Homecoming (29 page)

“What the hell’s going on here? What are they doing?”

“Working on our disguises. And our weaponry. And our ammunition. And our uniforms. And…” he turned and smiled at the larger man. “What? You didn’t think we’d just roll up in your Hummer and ring the bloody doorbell, did you?”

“Well, I…I dunno. I just figured we’d hit them at night.”

“And so we shall. Probably.” Sheridan opened the office door and escorted Apollo inside. “We have people watching them as we speak. Once we have a better idea of how weak their forces are, we’ll decide if it will be a day or night operation.”

“Oi, isn’t this the chap that beat you to a bloody pulp?” A short and solidly built man with a short trimmed red beard asked.

Sheridan patted Apollo’s shoulder. “No worries, Big. He’s with us, now.”

“That still won’t keep my foot out of his arse, now will it?” The little man had spirit, but Apollo wasn’t sure if that was enough to endear the little loudmouth to him.

“Better check yo’self.” Apollo squared off, and Sheridan stepped between the two.

“Easy there, chaps. We’re all on the same team, right?” He pointed to the red bearded fellow. “This fellow is Bigby. We just call him Big.”

“Don’t look so big to me,” Apollo muttered.

“Big enough.” Bigby turned back to his work, occasionally glancing up at the intruder.

“Easy, boys. Apollo here is going to help us with our ‘Jack’ problem.”

“The Yank knows where the mongrel is hiding, does he?”

“I’m more of a Tigers fan, if you catch my meaning.” Apollo waded into the room and took it all in. Although the office itself was rundown, the equipment inside rivalled that of the OPCOM. “You got yourself a pretty nice little setup here.”

“Aye, that we do. And you best keep your booger hooks off it, too.”

“Little man, I’m about to shove a size eighteen right up your—”

“Okay, that’s enough.” Sheridan pointed his cane at Bigby. “I mean it. No more. We need you two to work together.” He shifted and gave Apollo a knowing stare. “No in-house fighting. Got it?”

“Put a leash on your boy there and we good.”

“Oi, is that a wolf joke?” Bigby swelled for another confrontation.

“One more and I’m going to let him have at you,” Sheridan threatened. “Is that what you really want?”

Bigby studied Apollo then sat back down. “He just saved your life, he did.”

Apollo let the little man have the last word. Something told him that if he didn’t, it would just keep going. “So what’s the plan?”

“The plan is a two-pronged attack. Just like we discussed. You’ll lead an attack squad against Jack’s outpost and Big here will lead one against your boys at the base.”

Bigby bristled. “Why does he get to lead the attack against the—”

Sheridan interrupted, “Because he’s been there before. He may not have the bloody place memorized, but at least he’s familiar with it. Plus, he has the coordinates to the island. Do you want to take a small fleet of boats and just go cruising in the Atlantic until you bump into it?” Big sat back and harrumphed. “I didn’t think so. At least you know where the bloody hangar is. So be quiet and listen. You’ll get your chance.

“Now, where was I? Oh, yes. You’ll take a squad to the island and cause merry mayhem while Big takes another squad to the hangar and does his best to bring it down around their bloody ears.”

Apollo nodded. “Who’s my squad?”

Sheridan pointed out the office window. “Some of those chaps. They may not be up to Monster Squad potential, but they’re all wolves and they’ve had their share of fight training. Enforcers of our benefactor.”

“He got the same peeps on his crew?”

Sheridan nodded. “For the most part, that is affirmative. You see, once I left, I approached a few good men from my squad and convinced them to come with me.”

“Like you did me?”

“More or less.” Sheridan patted the large man’s shoulder. “You see, Big here is dead.”

“Dead and buried I am. Rotting in the ground as we speak.” The red bearded little man laughed as if he were the only one privy to a joke.

“There were a couple of others that I tried to convince to come with. Only one did. He faked his death, and now he’s here with us.”

Apollo wrinkled his brow and gave Sheridan a puzzled stare. “What about the other one?”

“Well, I couldn’t very well have the man rat us out, now could I? Let’s just say he didn’t have to fake his own death.”

“Silver bullet to the noggin’. Clean and simple. Called it a suicide, they did.” The red bearded guy seemed a little too excited about that fact.

“What you gonna be doing during all of this?”

Sheridan tapped at his leg. “Bum foot. I’m afraid the only useful thing I can do is shift and tear stuff up. So, I’ll be going with Big.”

“And who’s running these shows?” Apollo wasn’t sure he was going to like the answer to this question.

“Well, in our case, I will be until I shift. Then Big will be directing the action. Seeing as how I’ll lay out the plan as best I can beforehand, he’ll really only be supervising the slaughter.” Sheridan placed a pen and paper in front of Apollo. “And we’d really appreciate it if you could give us a detailed layout of the internals of the hangar.”

“I can do that. But answer me this. Who’s gonna be running the show on the island?”

Sheridan gave Apollo a reassuring smile that definitely left him feeling greasy. “You will be, mate. It’s your show there. You will be the senior monster in charge.”

“I can dig it.” Apollo picked up the pen and began drawing.

*****

John stepped off the back of the Raptor and patted the side of the truck. “I think I’m going to like this.”

“Evan did a hell of a job, didn’t he?” Spalding unhooked the harness from the back of John’s tactical vest and placed it in the cargo compartment next to the gun mount.

“I’m loving that swivel harness. If you drive like an idiot and bounce the gunner off their feet, they can free float and still shoot.”

“What do you mean if
I
drive like an idiot?”

John paused, unable to backtrack. “What I meant was, if the driver…drove like…um, hit a bad bump and…”

Spalding laughed and waved him on. “You take stuff too serious sometimes.”

“Note to self, do not call the boss an idiot.”

“I’m not the boss, just the Team Leader.” Spalding held the door open for John as he went through.

“Why do you that?”

“Hold the door for people? It’s polite.”

“No.” John searched for the right words. “Belittle your accomplishments. You are the Team Leader. Your squad looks to you for direction. That makes you the boss.”

“Negative. That makes me responsible, but not the boss.”

John stopped walking and shook his head. “That isn’t right. If you give an order, we’re expected to obey it.”

“Because I’m the Team Leader.”

“And you earned that.”

“Yes, John, I did. I’m the second most senior operator, so they made me Second Squad Team Leader. But that doesn’t make me special.” Darren pulled him aside so they weren’t blocking the hallway. “Look, you have better shooting scores than I do. Ing and Ron both have much higher hand-to-hand scores than I do. Donnie…well. He’s Donnie.”

John snorted. “Okay, yeah, but you…what branch were you?”

“I wasn’t.” Darren let that sink a moment. John stared at him with disbelief. “I was a CIA operative before I came to the squads.

“Now, true, I had field experience and I was a prior Marine. But being a sniper in the Marines does not equate to being a NAVY SEAL or a Delta Force soldier or a Combat Controller.”

“Wow. Really? A spook, huh? I never would have guessed.”

“Most don’t. And I keep it that way.” He gave him an expectant look. “Most of these guys were bad asses before they ever got here. Before the augmentation. Before the special training. Me? I was just a CIA field op.”

John narrowed his gaze. “Somehow I feel like you’re holding a lot back when you say that.”

Spanky shrugged. “Maybe…maybe not. The real question is, do you still trust me to cover your six in the field?”

John didn’t hesitate. “Hell yeah.”

“Then that’s all that really matters. Trust your squad mates.” He tapped his breast pocket where he kept Brooke’s picture. “Trust them. They’re better at understanding than you might think.”

Darren turned and walked off leaving John alone with his thoughts. He instinctively reached for the picture in his pocket and felt the satisfying crinkle of the photo paper under the material.

“Trust my squad mates.” He nodded to himself as he fell into step.

*****

“Colonel, we have something you need to look at.” Jericho Jones waved a sheet of paper just outside his door.

Colonel Mitchell groaned. “What else could possibly go wrong?”

“Not necessarily wrong, sir, just…different.”

“Different?” Mitchell waved the man in and Jericho quickly closed the space between them.

“Hot off the press, sir. I have no earthly idea what it is.”

Mitchell looked at the hot sheet and shook his head. “Me neither.” He glanced up at Jericho. “Where’s Tufo?”

“Not in his office, sir.”

Mitchell pushed up from his chair and grabbed his hat. “Activate whoever’s up next.”

“Third Squad, sir.” Jones fell into step behind him as he marched toward the OPCOM.

“Sweet Jeebus, this is already seconded? How did that happen? We didn’t even see the first report.” Mitchell glanced at his watch to see how much time was already lost.

“Both spotters were together, sir. They verified at the same time.”

Matt paused. “Can they do that?”

Jericho shrugged. “I don’t know, sir. You wrote the rule.”

Matt shook off the conundrum and headed for the OPCOM again. “Activate the squad. I want them gone ten minutes ago.”

“Aye, sir.” Jericho took off at a dead run, tapping into his ruggedized PDA at the same time.

Mitchell pulled his radio, “Mark, we got a live one. Third Squad is going active now.”

“Copy that. On my way.” The static filled reply indicated he was probably top side.

Matt pushed open the door of the OPCOM and flipped the breakers, bringing the room up to full power. Technicians and monitoring personnel began filtering into the room and assuming their stations. When the room was manned and Tufo stood at the door, Matt addressed the group. “We have a Class II sighting in Louisiana. Unknown hominid.”

“Unknown?” Mark raised a brow.

Matt punched some buttons on the console and a digital photo came up on the big screen. What people saw could only be described as ‘unknown’. “My best guess is it’s some kind of goblin or ogre.”

“Negative on the ogre, sir. They usually travel in pairs or more,” a tech responded.

“Agreed, but since we only have a picture of the one, we have an unknown quantity until we can verify otherwise.” All eyes fell to the creature that appeared to have scaly skin, but with patches of brown hair across the top of its skull and down its back. Thick muscular arms and legs ended in three fingered hands with thick, claw like nails. A short, thick tail extended behind it, almost like a vestigial tail, but thicker, as if the butt simply hadn’t stopped growing. The most striking features were the red bulbous eyes that sat nearly atop its head. The flat nose below it sat atop a very wide mouth with short razor sharp teeth.

“That mouth reminds me of a frog,” a voice from the rear stated.

“Ever see a frog with teeth like that?” another replied.

“Okay, hold the conjecture.” Matt raised his hands to stifle the outbursts. “I know things have been a bit slow lately, but it’s not every day we come across a new species.” He turned to Mark. “Contact the clean-up crews. Make sure that we get samples back to the doc. I want to know what the hell this thing is.”

“Roger that, Colonel.”

“Okay boys and girls, batten down the hatches and saddle up. It’s time to make the doughnuts.”

*****

Damien slowly closed on the villa and listened intently before approaching the door. He paused his breathing and strained his hearing. Nothing stirred within the walls. He extended his nails and prepared for attack when the door slowly opened. Rachel stood silhouetted in the doorway, her form nearly taking his breath away. “You’ve returned.”

He withdrew his nails and slowly closed the distance between them. Something sounded ‘off’ in her voice. “Yes, I just got back.”

“Took you long enough.” She turned and disappeared within, leaving him watching and waiting.

Damien entered the villa softly, his guard up the entire time. “Are you okay?”

“I ate a family.” He turned quickly to see her sprawled out on a lounger in the family room; blood splatter could be seen on nearly every wall.