More Than Friends (7 page)

          They had no intention of allowing themselves to be caught again so easily—especially not by a woman such as this—no matter how beautiful and enticing she might be.  Armando shielded his thoughts from the others as he’d watched her and grown increasingly attracted to her sure and swift movements, her command over the men under her care, not to mention the lure of her fit and agile body and thick, curly hair.  Her scent had drawn them all to her, for it had been a long time since any of them had seen a woman.  The seasons seemed to blend into one in the jungle—a hot, balmy one that eluded their abilities to distinguish the passing of time.

          Armando didn’t know how long it had been since he’d been free to roam as a man and not the prisoner of experimentation.

          Rafael mind-spoke to his cousin. 
What ails you, Armando?  You’ve paced all morning and haven’t said a word of your thoughts.

          Armando looked to him and Remy.  They’d set off most of the traps meant to catch them and the others, but they’d seen the woman and her men working for days digging pits and going deep into the jungle to collect fronds and vines to disguise their work.  The valley had been transformed and then covered, as if nothing had ever been disturbed.  The work the group had done was quite spectacular, considering what they worked with, but the scent of their fear hung heavy in the air.  No supernatural being could overlook the human pheromones so cloying in the area.  It was why nothing had worked before.

         
They’re working on something big
, he responded. 
And I want to know why they’ve gone to greater scale rather than different tactics.  The woman isn’t an idiot.  She can tell there’s something wrong.  I don’t like it.  They’re up to something, but I’m damned if I can figure it out.

          Remy, who possessed the form of a cougar, and not a leopard as they, snorted and smacked his lips, giving a great yawn. 
She should have given up by now.

          Rafael laughed mentally. 
She doesn’t strike me as the kind of woman that gives up easily.

          Armando could tell his cousin, Rafael, was just as interested in the woman as he.  Hell, had the situation been different, they probably would have all killed themselves fighting over who was going to have her first.  But she was the enemy here, and such thoughts didn’t bear weight.

         
All the more reason to keep close watch on her
, Armando responded.  His thick, black fur twitched on the back of his neck, and his tail moved with agitation.

          The other cats agreed, and moved with stealth to surround the soldiers.  They would wait to see what plan the company men would hatch this time.

****

          The unceasing sound of insects and frogs filled the humid air with a cacophony of white noise that could drive a sane man mad.

          Luckily for Yvonne Jackson, she was no man, and she’d been in the jungle many times before and knew how to ignore the irritating noises.  Never before under these circumstances, however.

          With the IRS breathing down her neck for her bastard ex-husband’s taxes, which he’d saddled
her
with and gotten away Scott-free from any responsibility, she hadn’t had much choice on whether to be here or not.  Every time she thought about Tyrell, she wished she could track
him
down and cut off his balls.  It was enough to make her hate men forever.

          Yvonne sighed.  She didn’t have much choice but to be here, leading a team of men against predators unseen before by man.  Genetically altered by man.  Freaks of nature never intended to roam the earth.  The implications of what could happen if they bred with natural cats made her shudder.  She’d watched enough movies and read enough books about mankind fucking with nature to know even if she wasn’t getting paid enough to wipe out her debts—she didn’t want anything like that to happen.

          The impulse to shudder in revulsion was quickly quashed as she focused on the task at hand, checking their setups of traps and pits.

          Heading a team of heavy footed, dumb-fuck soldiers, and all in the search of a pack of cats. Most of the big cats didn’t move together in groups.  They were solitary creatures, independent, always relying on themselves.  It was definitely weird that a group of them had ´decided´ to bunch together.  Why had they formed a pack?  It didn´t make sense, but nothing about this whole assignment did anyway.

          The great cats, set free by internal saboteurs, were proving harder to catch than she’d originally predicted.  She’d tried tracking them, to no avail.  It was as if they’d known she was on their trail and had deliberately led her in circles.  She’d tried live bait, dead bait, pits, trip wires—she’d wracked her brain for every technique, and each time, she came up empty.  She’d begun to feel like there were no cats on the miserably hot island, except for the outstanding evidence that they were there.

          They were smart.  Too damned smart.

          She didn’t know how they kept avoiding capture, but they had.  It seemed to her she was always two steps behind.

          She had one more trick up her sleeve—a pheromone the project leaders assured her would be irresistible to the animals.  It was her last chance to prove she could do the job.  Her last chance to get out of IRS hell.  Everything was riding on this.

          Her stomach churned, tied up in knots.  A greedy mosquito sucked on the exposed flesh of her neck.  She smacked it, cursing the tiny hellion and the itchy mark it had left on her neck.

          The afternoon rains had died down and the sun had come out full force, the solar heat turning the standing water to choking, body draining humidity.  She could feel the hair around her face kink up in the humidity.

          She should’ve chopped it all off before coming out to the jungle.  The temptation to trim it down with her knife to alleviate some of the heat trapped beneath it still existed.  She kept it up and off her neck as best as she could.

          Yvonne wiped her brow and smoothed her curly hair back from her forehead, scanning the dense foliage.  She waited on word that the East side was set up and ready to go.  The plan was to channel the beasts down this sloping valley she perched above, hidden within the embrace of some thick, cloying brush.  They’d worked on the pits for two days, lowering cages inside, setting rope lures for backup.  Delving deep in the jungle for fronds and leaves to cover their tracks.  Everything was as ready as they could make it.  Her men were hidden on the ridge above, ready to tranquilize anything that moved.  Maybe they could keep their cool when the shit hit the fan.

          A male voice came through the communication unit on her shoulder.  “We’ve got the cages set East side.  Everything’s in place.  We’re ready for you.”

          A bird cackled from the impenetrable leafy canopy above, mocking her, laughing at their efforts.  Another answered the call, the swift rush of wings fluttering overhead sounding suddenly eerie amidst the chirruping insects in the jungle.

          Yvonne stood, adjusting the heavy gear weighing her down.  She hit the comm. button to contact all the men.  “Get ready.  Setting the lure.  Out.”

          She shifted her weight, being careful as she moved down the hillside to release the pheromone into the valley for maximum effect.  They wouldn’t know how far the scent would travel, or how long it would take the beasts to be attracted to it.  That was the hard part—waiting.

          It always was the hardest, but she’d learned to be patient over the years.

          The humidity seeped into her bones, making her sticky with sweat.  Her damp hair plastered against her scalp and neck.  Tiny droplets tickled between her breasts and the small of her back.  She swiped her forearm across her forehead and withdrew the vial of pheromones she’d been entrusted with from a pocket over her breast.

          The clear, innocuous liquid scared the shit out of her.

          She only had the project leader’s word that it would do the job, and she wasn’t so sure she wanted to see what these genetically altered beasts looked like—not with as intelligent and crafty as they were.

          It took every ounce of nerve in her gut to keep her from pulling out of this.  She focused on ridding herself of her monetary problems, the task at hand, anything but what might go wrong if this plan failed and the men fanned out in the jungle couldn’t keep their heads straight and get this shit done.  Everyone was on edge from spending night after night in the jungle.  She didn’t blame them—it wasn’t the kind of place anyone would want to go to for a camping trip.

          Once she reached the spongy valley floor, she opened the vial and sniffed the contents.  The liquid smelled musky and strong as hell.  She gagged at the smell and went to work pouring a minute amount out at each pit site, carefully weaving through the brush and traps to keep from setting anything off.  The wind would catch the scent soon.  She had no idea how long they’d have to wait to see if the pheromone really worked like they said it would.

          The wind picked up, carrying the scent into the thick wood.  Yvonne scurried back into her previous position, making sure she was hidden as carefully as before beside her men.  One of them nodded, hefting his tranq. gun as he looked down at the valley.

          Her equipment seemed to have gained twenty pounds, making her back and shoulders ache.  Sweat had built up beneath her jacket, drenching her and making the shirt beneath stick uncomfortably to her skin.

          Miserable as she was, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of tense excitement.  Her pulse felt faster, her heart beating hard.  She was getting close now.

          She loved the hunt, the excitement of it, the thrill of the chase, it wasn´t about hurting the animals, hell no, she loved all animals.  No, she liked the intensity of the search, the capture, knowing that she´d bested some of Mother Nature´s finest beasts, but afterwards, she´d always been able to release them either back into the wild, or with a reliable wildlife preserve, a reputable zoo—anything other than a research facility.

          It made her sick to think of what might have been done to these creatures, and now she was a part of it.  She’d have to learn to live with her decision later.

          She was going against all of her principles, but unfortunately for Yvonne, she had no other choice.  When the IRS comes a calling, and they tell you that you owe them three hundred grand, then you´ve got to do what you´ve got to do.  She´d jumped at the chance when one of her contacts had found her this job, especially when she´d been told about her salary for successful completion of the mission. This one job would clear not only the IRS debt, but it would also help her rebuild the tatters of her old business.

          Blood money to keep her mouth shut once she got off this damned island.

          She’d known from the start that the project leader was holding some details back—this was top secret government work.  It didn’t pay for her to go snooping around, and it wasn’t part of her job.  As long as she didn’t end up dead or horribly mangled, she’d keep her mouth shut and her mind on something else.

          All Yvonne wanted to do was finish the assignment, get paid, and then get the hell out of here.  That’s what she had to keep telling herself.

          Ears straining for anything different, she sensed the jungle noises quieting down.  A welcome breeze blew through the trees, making her skin feel cooler.  Her hair tickled her nose and eyes.  She pushed it back under her cap, listening, waiting.  Her breath caught in her chest, and she forced herself to remember to breathe.

          In Yvonne´s experience, silence only deepened when something big was about to go down.  The jungle knew.  It was equal to the hairs on the back of your neck standing up, or suddenly having an attack of goose flesh, the hunter in you knew danger was ahead, and it was prepping your body for the attack.  To this day, she still used the techniques her foster father, David, had taught her when she´d been a rebellious, resentful, teen aged brat.  He´d hunted all his life, as a boy he fished and hunted with his Daddy, then he hunted men.  He´d fostered her after he´d retired from his business--bounty hunting.  He´d taught her all he knew, and it had not only helped calm the brat down, but it had enabled her to forge a career out of his teachings as well.  She would never forget one word of his lessons, too often she´d been caught in a sticky situation and she´d only managed to escape thanks to David´s methods.  She was about to use one of them now.  

          Breathing so deeply that it almost hurt her lungs, she controlled her heartbeat, and calmed her nerves simultaneously.  She always found that she could hear, see, and sense more when she wasn´t focused on butterflies in her belly or the beat of her heart, and this technique had never let her down.

          Her eyes flickered over the valley, the traps she couldn’t see but knew were there, then behind and further into the underbrush.  She scanned the jungle, constantly searching for her quarry.  Her ears picked up the hunt, however, it was a soft sound at first, unnoticeable to anyone who wasn´t listening out for it, and then it came, a wildcat´s scream that ruptured through the air. Only experience stopped her from flinching, the guy next to her jumped and swore under his breath, within seconds she was prepared, and within seconds it attacked.

          Yvonne quickly jumped up, braced her legs, and raised the tranquilizer gun to a comfortable height as a panther quickly leapt through the trees, foam dripping from its mouth like rabid dog.  It screeched angrily, foam spraying on the valley floor as the panther growled and leveled his stare up at her.  She felt the hairs on her neck react and quickly shot the beast before he could launch an attack.