Loyal Wolf (4 page)

Plus, what they now needed to do could not be done with any normal, non–Alpha Force human around.

It was a secret from all other eyes. It was the heart of their supercovert military unit.

They both were out of the car. Click had remained locked in the rented cabin next door to theirs. He was vital to this part of their assignment—but only because he closely resembled the wolf into which Jock was about to change. If anyone happened to see Jock, Ralf and he would laugh it off. Show off the dog later and say it had always been Click.

“You ready, sir?” Ralf asked. He had pulled his large backpack out of the rear seat of the car and was holding out a vial of the very special Alpha Force shifting elixir.

That elixir alone was enough to entice shapeshifters to join Alpha Force. It had been developed by some of the unit's members, starting with its commanding officer, Major Drew Connell, and enhanced by formulas that other members had created independently that provided additional qualities.

“‘Sir'? You're too military, bro.” Ralf was a staff sergeant. Jock, as a lieutenant, was, in fact, his superior officer. But Alpha Forcers worked together too closely to stand much on military protocol. “But yeah, I'm ready.”

They had decided, to save time, to have Jock shift outside the house, at least for this change. Then, when he was off performing his recon, Ralf would find a way to get inside and check the place out.

Now the only illumination was from the penlight that Ralf had taken from his sack and turned on, plus a bit of natural light from the starlit sky, visible now and then through the canopy of trees and over the road where they had been cleared. No full moon, not for another couple of weeks. Jock took the bottle of elixir and downed it slowly. It tasted somewhat minty and a bit like citrus fruit. Drinkable, but that didn't matter.

When he had finished it, he handed back the empty vial, took a deep breath and said, “Now.”

Ralf aimed the other light he had taken from the backpack toward Jock, the one that, turned on, resembled the illumination of a full moon.

Jock immediately felt the stretching and pulling sensations begin. He smiled, then growled, as his body began morphing into the form of a wolf.

* * *

He prowled through the forest, in the direction of the distant sounds and scents of a large human habitat
.

The one that was his target. The target of Alpha Force
.

Tonight would be an overview by a wolf seeking information—one with the perception of a human, thanks to the elixir—to see what was there, to help plan what would come next
.

He smelled the aromas of the woodlands—the trees. Small creatures whose sounds he heard in the underbrush, fleeing from him. Larger animals—a bobcat. A bear. Perhaps a wolverine. He scented them all, but none was near him
.

A good thing. He wanted neither to flee nor to fight
.

Not this night
.

He soon arrived at his destination. He smelled a legion of humans. Saw the compound surrounded by a tall chain-link fence
.

He slowly began circling it, careful to stay far enough away in the trees not to be spotted by curious human eyes
.

He smelled fire and approached the wooded area closest to where it seemed to originate. Yes. Beyond the fence, a group of humans sat around a large campfire, apparently talking and drinking. He could smell beer and some harder stuff. Despite his keen hearing, he could only make out a hum of conversation, not specifically what they were saying
.

Was it true? Were these men bent on evading—or toppling—authority and harming other humans? Or were they just a group of hunters banding together in a bond of yearning to kill wildlife?

As much as he despised that, it would not be something that merited Alpha Force intervention
.

Killing or even threatening other humans did
.

He needed to learn more. But he had done most of what he had intended for this night
.

Observing, using his other senses that were much keener than those of a human, he nevertheless waited for another twenty minutes, but that yielded little further useful information except for the scent of gunpowder, which fit with who these people were. Explosives? Maybe, but if so they had been set off a while back
.

But what he sought could still be on the property, hidden, perhaps being stored without being utilized, for now. This was not the time to check—but he would in the near future
.

He had determined where the gates to this property were, including the one staffed by a guard. Other areas where the fencing was not rooted as well. Ways he could enter if he had to
.

Still others where the trees and bushes and undergrowth did not end at the fence line but extended onto the property—and could hide a wolf who happened to stalk into them and hide
.

He would return here
.

Soon
.

And then, as he began to leave, he inhaled a scent. A familiar human scent, one that trumped all he had smelled previously
.

He had to be wrong. And yet his special senses were never wrong about things like that
.

A woman with the anarchists?

No. Near them
.

Kathlene
.

* * *

What was going on?

Kathlene had headed back to the area of the cabins and arrived just in time to see the car driven by Ralf exit through the motel's gates and head in the direction of the anarchists' area. She'd had to stay far back, even drive without using her headlights, to ensure that she wouldn't be seen.

She'd watched as their car pulled into the driveway of what appeared to be an abandoned house along the road. She had decided she'd better park along a nearby turnout and walk, rather than drive, to keep an eye on them.

And, potentially, protect them. She had taken her weapon from where she had locked it in her glove compartment and now wore it at her hip.

The night was dark, especially with the canopy of trees looming overhead, obliterating the light from the half moon and the stars that, in as remote and unlighted an area as this, usually lit up the sky in identifiable constellations. And she had been right. It
was
unpleasant to come to this area at night, especially alone. But she had little choice.

She had carefully stayed on the road, walking slower than she would have liked but trying to make as little noise as possible, staying off the cover of dry leaves on the ground yet trying to remain invisible at the edge of the road. Making her way in the darkness. Staying careful, and as aware of her surroundings, and her solitude, as she possibly could.

That way, it took her a long time to catch up.

She had finally reached the house, looked inside a window, saw Ralf there in the faint illumination of a flashlight—but not Jock.

Had he tried to get inside the compound alone?

Bad move, she'd thought. What if he were seen?

Maybe he'd only intended to walk the perimeter outside the fence, just to take an initial look in the dark when he was less likely to be noticed. That made sense to her.

She'd decided to go check, just in case.

Still careful to walk as silently as possible, she had left the house with Ralf inside and hurried toward the road to the compound.

She'd wished she could use a flashlight, but at least her eyes had acclimated to the darkness. She had soon seen the light from the guardhouse and slipped behind the nearest trees, still carefully drawing closer to the area.

Then she'd started to slowly walk the perimeter. But then she had stopped. What was that?

Some kind of canine. It looked, from where she'd stood, like a German shepherd mix of some kind—but tawnier. Furrier. Like a wolf. A wild dog, maybe, that was part wolf.

As she'd watched, it seemed to smell the air in her direction. And then it moved on.

Moving cautiously, she tried to watch it but got only occasional glimpses of it. It appeared to stalk the compound outside the fence, like her—staying in the cover of the trees. It walked slowly, staring inside the enclosed area as if consciously observing what was there.

And then it disappeared. Even so, she continued to watch the area of the old ranch from her cover.

Now she had returned to an area not far from the driveway, hoping to see Jock, assuming he had come on foot to check the place out.

But after half an hour, she didn't see him. She was tired. Disappointed. Maybe she had been wrong about what the Alpha Force members intended to do this night besides exclude her.

She still didn't know what Ralf had been doing at that house. Where was Jock? Did it matter?

That wolf had most likely been hunting for food and had nothing to do with what else was going on around here.

Right?

But why was it she couldn't quite accept that?

Still careful, she headed back to where she had parked her car.

Maybe she would get some answers tomorrow.

Chapter 4

“S
he was there.”

While still a wolf, Jock had loped through the woods back to the house near which he'd previously shifted. As planned, Ralf had gotten inside and had opened the door for him when he'd returned.

Jock had just morphed back to his human form. He'd grabbed the clothes that Ralf had folded neatly and left on a cleaned spot on the floor, then threw them on.

Now, inside the dismal and filthy hovel, he was dressed and angry and wanted to slam something. Except for spotting a few flaws in their security and some possible entry points, his initial observation had been totally inconclusive. He still had no sense of the extent of the likelihood for peril looming around the former ranch, but he definitely hadn't ruled out the conceivability of those now staying there being at least skilled and dedicated terrorists and possible anarchists, as well.

He needed to get inside, though, to check for the extent of their weaponry.

Now he knew all his frustration was evident as he spoke to Ralf.

“Who? Kathlene? Where was she?” Ralf had placed his equipment on the floor and was now stowing it in his backpack again. He stopped, though, facing Jock in the dim glow of the flashlight he had left on for illumination.

“Near the old ranch, outside the fence like I was, also hiding in the woods. But I scented and heard her, then saw her. Damn the woman. She must have been following us. Does she like throwing herself into potential danger?”

“I think you know the answer to that,” Ralf said drily. Which only made Jock want to slam something all the more, like the wall. Not Ralf, and certainly not Kathlene—although, had she been nearby, it wouldn't have been outside the realm of possibility for him to grab and shake her.

And he knew what a bad idea that would be...touching her again at all. He'd want to kiss those defiant lips, and more.

Well, he would have time to cool down before seeing her at lunch again tomorrow.

By then he would have thought of a brilliant way to convince her to back off and let Ralf and him do their jobs.

At least he hoped so.

“Did she know it was you?” Ralf asked, interrupting his thoughts.

“Of course not.” But Jock wondered nevertheless. Had she just shown up there because that was what she did—keeping an eye on the place where she thought a lot of dangerous people were gathering? That was a viable theory, of course. But unlikely for this evening.

Had she instead followed them—him?

That was something else he would have to check into tomorrow.

* * *

Kathlene was tired when she reported to work the next morning.

That wasn't surprising. She hadn't slept much.

Her mind kept buzzing around thoughts of her new Alpha Force best friends. Especially the so very sexy Jock Larabey, her supposed old buddy.

And their attempts to exclude her from the investigation.

Plus that strange visit of hers to the anarchists' enclave last night, thinking she would see Jock hanging around outside, near where she was, after leaving Ralf at that old house...but instead seeing only a wolf.

A particularly strange-acting wolf...

Now, inside the sheriff's station, in the assembly room waiting for the day's instructions, she kept herself from yawning by sheer willpower.

The dozens of other deputies taking their seats on folding chairs around her would only rib her about it if they saw.

The noise around her was growing—loud male voices hailing each other, chairs being dragged around the wooden floor, shrill feedback from a microphone that Sheriff Melton Frawley's top assistant, Undersheriff George Kerringston, was testing from the row of chairs up front that faced the rest.

Hardly any sound of female voices. Oh, yes, there were a couple of other deputies toughing it out like Kathlene. Or, actually, not like Kathlene. Deputy Betsy Alvers and Deputy Alberta Sheyne were perfectly happy being obedient underlings who did as Melton said, filling out paperwork at the station and bringing coffee to the big, brave men in the department.

The other couple of female deputies had resigned and moved away. There wasn't even a local police department for them to join, since the county sheriff's department was the only law enforcement in this area other than the state highway patrol on the major nearby roads. Only Kathlene attempted to keep up the job as they had once all known it.

That had become a daily fight. But she was no quitter.

And now, with her concerns about the apparent anarchists, she felt she owed it to the town, to the many people who remained her friends, to see this through.

“Hey, good lookin'.”

A thin man dressed just like her sat down on the empty chair beside her, sliding over so their hips met.

“Hey, ugly guy,” she said back, turning to smile up into the face of Senior Deputy Tommy Xavier Jones, the man who appeared to be her only supporter in the higher ranks of the department.

Tommy X had been a deputy for nearly twenty years. He had short gray hair, a long, almost equine face, and a lot of wrinkles. He was the tallest member of the department, was great friends with the town's ranking politicians and dated a county commissioner, who also happened to be Kathlene's friend.

He could get away with bucking the current regime within the Sheriff's Department—and did.

And fortunately, he remained Kathlene's champion, too.

“So—do you anticipate anything exciting today?” he asked, nodding toward the front of the room where Sheriff Frawley was about to take the microphone.

“Here? Nope. But I'm having lunch with my old college friend Jock, the one I told you about. I saw him briefly yesterday. He's here with a friend on the way to Yellowstone and I'll spend as much time as I can with them before they leave.”

Even with someone as close to her as Tommy X, Kathlene had decided to maintain the cover story—partly because she'd been instructed to if she wanted continuing help from the elite and covert Alpha Force, whatever it was, and partly because she didn't dare allow her personal investigation of the anarchists become the knowledge of anyone here, not even Tommy X. Tommy X was a nice guy, trustworthy—but if he let even a hint of what was going on drop in front of anyone here who wanted to curry favor with Sheriff Frawley, she'd be toast.

“Attention, please.” That was Kerringston, shouting into the microphone although he didn't have to. He knew that. He'd been told nearly daily since his promotion to undersheriff six months earlier, when the former sheriff had retired and Melton Frawley was promoted into his position.

Before the good old days had ended, Kathlene thought. Unlike today.

Kerringston gave his greeting and handed the mike to his boss. Melton did his usual song and dance of thanking his people, telling them to do a good job, going over the stuff that had been investigated yesterday—which amounted to nearly nothing unless one was impressed with local traffic stops.

And then the sheriff finished. He didn't look toward Kathlene. He didn't have to.

But she knew exactly whom he spoke to next, since he did so often.

“Now, we've had a few more local applications for hunting licenses. Like always. Nice for the economy since the licenses aren't cheap, plus some of the sportsmen—that's what they consider themselves, you know—are joining the others already here who're practicing their shooting skills and all. I've talked to them. They talk to me. No one's been hurt as they do their target practice—still. And no one will be hurt.”

He stopped, looking over the heads of nearly all the deputies quietly facing him, some jabbing each other in the sides with their elbows as they nodded toward Kathlene and laughed.

“So...today's a new day. Anyone want to ruin our meeting by objecting to our visitors?” This time, he shot a look right at Kathlene, challenging her, even as he guffawed aloud.

She said nothing. Just looked down as if there was something loose on her utility belt that she had to check.

Same as every day. Even as she felt her face flush, her insides churn.

His discussions with the
sportsmen
suggested they didn't mind authority, so they couldn't be anarchists, could they? Or was he being wooed by them so he'd leave them alone?

Melton obviously wanted her to quit and run. She knew it. And she was tempted daily. Like now. After he had humiliated her—again.

“You okay?” Tommy X whispered without looking at her. He'd already told her that his standing up and arguing in her favor would only garner more reaction from the sheriff and nearly all his minions.

“Fine,” she said. As always.

This time, though, she had something to add. For once.

“But I'm really looking forward to having lunch today with my dear old college friend,” she told Tommy X.

* * *

In the late morning gloom, Kathlene had walked briskly down the busy Cliffordsville sidewalk from the sheriff's station toward the Clifford Café, the place she had chosen to meet Jock and Ralf. She'd called to let them know the address.

She had gotten there first and grabbed a table in a corner. Now she looked around. She knew maybe a half dozen patrons there, some waiting for their meals and others eating already. As she caught the eyes of a few, she smiled and lifted her hand in a wave of greeting. She remained in uniform since she would return to duty in a little less than an hour, so they clearly knew who, or at least what, she was.

This wasn't usually where she spent her lunchtime, but it seemed an appropriate place for today.

The place smelled delicious, with the aroma of grilled meats and baking bread in the air. The sound of voices was mostly a low hum. She couldn't make out what was said in any conversations, but that was fine with her.

Even so, none of the tables in this busy joint was completely immune from eavesdropping by the nosy locals who frequented it. In a way, that was a good thing. Word would get out that Kathlene had publicly dined with those friends she'd been talking about. Nothing sneaky about that. Not worth anyone spending any time puzzling over or talking about.

Unless, of course, those
friends
of hers were successful in outing, and taking federal custody of, some or all of the
sportsmen
. If word got out, that might be something worth more than some lunchtime gossip.

In any event, this wasn't Kathlene's usual midday meal. Her favorite lunch on days she was on duty was to grab a sandwich to go at one of the chains where she could choose everything from the bread to the meat and all other ingredients. That way, she could stuff it with all the salad makings she could want.

It was too hard to eat salads in patrol cars. And fortunately, the guy who was usually her partner, chosen especially for that role by her buddy Sheriff Frawley, could also get all the unhealthy menu items he wanted, too.

That way, Deputy Jimmy Korling didn't gripe at her. At least no more than usual.

Today he had griped, though, since she was actually taking an hour to have lunch by herself. Well, not exactly by herself. With her old college buddy Jock and his traveling companion, Ralf.

“Can I bring you a drink to start with, Deputy Baylor?” The server had obviously read Kathlene's name tag. She wore a dress with a short skirt covered by a dainty apron—the kind of woman, Kathlene was sure, that Sheriff Frawley expected all his female deputies to be. Not that she had anything but complete respect for this server, who also wore a name tag. Hers said she was Addie. But Addie had chosen to take on this kind of job.

Kathlene hadn't.

“Just a cup of coffee,” Kathlene said, smiling. “And a recommendation for what I should order after my friends arrive.”

As she said that, she glanced past the server's shoulder toward the front entrance. There they were—Jock and Ralf were just entering the restaurant. As they looked around, Kathlene half stood and waved.

“Are your friends here now?” Addie asked.

“Yes. I'm sure we'll be ready to order soon. Your suggestions?”

Addie described the specials—a turkey club sandwich, a meat-loaf platter, the soups of the day. By the time she was through, she went over them again as Jock and Ralf pulled their chairs from beneath the table and took their seats. “I'll give you a few minutes to decide,” she said after taking their drink orders.

Kathlene noticed how the pretty brunette server's eyes skimmed approvingly over Jock, who smiled back. Oh, yeah, the server had noticed how sexy he was. How could she help it? But that didn't matter to Kathlene. Couldn't matter.

So why did she want to shake the waitress and tell her to go get their drinks? Fast.

“Do you have any other recommendations?” Ralf asked. This time his T-shirt was blue with a circular logo representing the Montana flag in the middle, along with the state motto
“Oro Y Plata”—
gold and silver. He'd definitely done his homework before coming here, probably ordered his shirt online. His toothy grin was friendly, not suggesting at all that he was anything but what he pretended to be: a visitor who'd come here along with a friend on a road trip.

Jock, on the other hand, was also in jeans but with a snug black T-shirt on top. It hugged his ample muscles and emphasized the tightness of his hot body. He wasn't smiling at Kathlene, though. Instead, his hazel eyes regarded her with an expression she couldn't quite read. Curiosity? Irritation? Challenge? Maybe all of the above—but she was entitled to feel each of those emotions even more than he did.

Although she had no doubt that he believed otherwise.

She turned back to Ralf. “I don't eat here often, but when I do I usually order one of the specials. I've never had a bad meal at this place, though, so just pick whatever sounds best to you.”

At least here, sitting at a table, she could order a salad. The Cobb salad at this café was one of the best she had ever tasted, so she knew that would be her selection.