Читать книгу Untamed Wolf - Linda O. Johnston - Страница 11

Chapter 4

What the hell? Jason didn’t need Sara’s frantic shouts of fear, magnified by his canine senses, to spur him to dash to the burning vehicle that suddenly veered off to the side.

He assessed the situation as he ran toward the front of the car. He kept all assumptions and fears, all emotions, in check. Now was only a time for action.

He had worked on the general’s Jeep a couple of times when the old man had come to Ft. Lukman for meetings since Jason’s recent enlistment. It was an early 1990s model Jeep, not quite old enough to be a classic, but still an admirable aging vehicle.

The gasoline tank was in the back—near where the smoke was pouring from, but down low, beneath the axle. That model’s gas tank was built well, to prevent catching fire from sparks off the road or otherwise. Everything should be fine.

Except that the tires were flammable. So were the seats, the carpeting, the safety belts...

And right now, there was plenty of smoke. What remained of the canvas cover could confine a lot of it inside, enhancing the danger of smoke inhalation by the general.

Plus, depending on the location and intensity of the fire...well, despite the built-in precautions, there were no guarantees that the gas tank wouldn’t explode.

Jason aimed for the driver’s door, shoving his hands in his pockets as he ran to check for anything useful. Despite his dedication to working on cars, he didn’t coincidentally happen to carry tools that people were supposed to keep in their glove compartments to shatter windows in emergencies. All he had were keys. A pocket knife. His cell phone.

Nothing likely to be helpful.

Was the general still conscious? The haphazard way the car now progressed suggested otherwise. Yet if he was, maybe Jason could get him to turn off the engine and take the thing out of gear. Push the button to unlock the driver’s door.

For now, he would assume the commanding officer remained alive. He had no evidence he wasn’t...at least not yet.

The stench of burning rubber and more grew even ranker as he arrived at the vehicle, but Jason ignored it. He also ignored the shouts of other people. All behind him? He saw no one closer to the car than he was.

Unsure what was searing hot and what wasn’t, he yanked off his camo shirt and wrapped it around his right hand.

He reached the door and looked in. Smoke. Lots of it. But in the middle of it all, Jason could see that the general appeared conscious—barely. His eyes were open. His hands? Moving, but not in the right direction to get him out of there.

Jason first tried to yank the door open, to no avail. He pounded on the window to get the general’s attention. “It’s locked!” he shouted as Yarrow’s head jerked toward him. Had he heard? Was he aware enough to understand?

Yarrow, one hand at his mouth as he coughed, turned toward the door. In a moment, Jason heard a click that probably wouldn’t be audible to someone with normal human hearing, but with his acute senses it sounded nice and loud. He again tried the door.

This time it opened.

He coughed, too, as smoke smothered his face and his ability to breathe. But it didn’t completely mask visibility.

“Let me help,” said a familiar female voice from behind him. Sara McLinder. The lieutenant had kept up with him.

“Stay back,” he said as he leaned inside.

But she apparently wasn’t used to obeying orders from lower-ranking soldiers. As Jason leaned in and grasped the now-limp body of the general, he was suddenly glad that was so.

He needed to get the CO out of there fast. In moments, as he thrust his hands under the general’s armpits and heaved him out, he found Sara, despite also coughing, grabbing the legs and swinging Yarrow even farther from the frying car.

Others who’d caught up with them, Lieutenants Seth Ambers and Grace Andreas-Parran, also helped to form a stretcher of human—well, somewhat human—arms.

Grace was a doctor as well as a shifting member of Alpha Force. It was still too soon to have her check the general’s condition, though. Awkwardly but quickly, Jason helped the group maneuver the general’s barely conscious body far from the car and within a parking area near the base’s entry kiosk.

The harsh smell of the fire suddenly multiplied, and so did the background odor of oil as the flames apparently reached the engine. How secure was the gas tank now?

Jason swiftly noticed that he wasn’t the only Alpha Force member helping here whose eyes had widened as their noses lifted.

And then, kaboom! As loudly and completely as any explosion in an action movie, the general’s car detonated.

* * *

“Sir? Are you okay? Greg?” Sara wasn’t certain where the tarp had come from on which they gently laid the general down on the hard parking lot surface. Maybe from one of the vehicles parked nearby. It didn’t matter.

What did matter was how her boss, commanding officer to many of those present at Ft. Lukman, was doing.

Was he still alive?

He hadn’t responded to her queries, which she knew sounded pitifully plaintive. Maybe he couldn’t hear her. She wasn’t right beside him now. Not the way things had worked out as the group of them had laid him down gently.

She therefore maneuvered around on the periphery of the tarp to be nearer to his head, not exactly elbowing others out of her way but coming close to it.

She prayed she didn’t imagine it, but the general’s chest seemed to be moving slowly, indicating he was breathing.

“General Yarrow? Sir?” she said, louder this time and definitely closer to his ears, not caring that her voice broke as she addressed him.

He was her mentor. Her friend.

And he might be dying.

Sure, she was a soldier. She had joined the military prepared to go into combat. To lose comrades in arms, if necessary.

But not here, on U.S. soil.

And not this very kind, very wonderful man.

She moved even closer, only to find her way blocked by Jason. “You probably haven’t met Lieutenant Grace Andreas-Parran yet,” he said to Sara, gesturing to the woman in camo uniform, like all of them, who knelt at the general’s other side. “She’s a medical doctor as well as a member of Alpha Force.”

“Oh.” Sara knew what Jason wasn’t saying. She needed to back off. Let the doctor do what she could for the general.

Grace was slim and attractive, with blond hair so pale that it almost looked silver.

More important, her luminous brown eyes were narrowed as she concentrated on scanning the general’s body. From what Sara could see, his camo uniform was intact. Unsinged. Maybe he hadn’t been burned.

That didn’t mean he would survive. Smoke inhalation could kill people. And so far Sara didn’t know if he’d suffered any other kinds of injuries.

“Was he hurt?” she asked Grace. “I mean, besides being in a burning vehicle.”

“Not sure yet.” The doctor’s long fingers moved rapidly along General Yarrow’s prone body, clearly checking for injuries along with her concentrated gaze. “You’re his aide, aren’t you?”

“That’s right,” Sara said.

“Are you aware of any medical conditions he may have—heart related or otherwise? It’ll help diagnose and treat him if we have all his information.”

“I don’t know of any. He’s not exactly forthcoming with that kind of stuff, but I’ve made him occasional appointments for checkups at Bethesda Medical Center. I can call there.”

“Just get me the contact information. With privacy issues, they’re more likely to let me know matters like that.”

Which peeved Sara. She was almost like family to the general. But Grace was right. She was the doctor. She was the one they’d talk to about anything needed to save Greg Yarrow.

Sara was aware of Jason’s presence right behind her. He must have heard the conversation. He rested his hand firmly on her shoulder. To warn her to back off? But the contact seemed more comforting than cautionary.

Under other circumstances, Sara wouldn’t allow him to touch her at all. She was his superior officer. They were on duty.

But at the moment his touch somehow helped her to survive this horrendous situation.

She heard a lot of voices near them, too, and looked around to see other soldiers she had already met here. Some, like Seth Ambers, Colleen Hodell, Rainey Jessop and Jock Larabey, were members of Alpha Force. Others, including Lieutenants Cal Brown, Manning Breman and Samantha Everly, were members of the Ultra Special Forces Team.

All circled the general’s vulnerable body, staying respectfully back.

“Hey. What the hell happened?” That was Major Drew Connell, who maneuvered his way through the crowd.

“He’s a doctor, too,” said Jason into Sara’s ear. “A damned good one.”

She already knew that Drew, CO of the unit, was also a physician. “Great.” She turned to look toward Jason. His expression was bland, but his gaze, as he looked at her, seemed surprisingly sympathetic and she felt tears rush to her eyes. “Two Alpha Force doctors right here?” she continued, needing to say something else to demonstrate that she wasn’t some emotional wimp. “The general’s in good hands.” Sara prayed that was so.

A siren sounded in the distance. “Good,” stated Drew Connell. “I called 911 immediately.”

“I did, too,” Grace said. “The general needs to be checked out by EMTs with appropriate equipment, then transported immediately to the nearest emergency facility. That’s at the Memorial Hospital in Easton, isn’t it?”

“That’s right,” said Drew.

“What...” The word was soft but interjected into the conversation from below them.

The general!

It was all Sara could do not to push her way through all people, doctors or not, to get closer, to hear what Greg had to say.

Only...was it good for him to expend energy trying to talk?

The wail of the siren grew closer. It would be even more difficult to hear him, anyway.

But his eyes opened. They looked around, cloudy and dazed—not at all the usual strong expression conveyed by the powerful and confident CO.

“What happened?” he said. His voice was loud enough now to be heard. He began moving, as if wanting to sit up.

“We’re not certain yet, sir.” Drew held him gently on the ground. “Please stay still for now till we can check you better for injuries. Your car caught fire and we’re going to get you to the nearest hospital for an examination as soon as possible.”

Which was a good thing. Sara had learned, from the general’s initial description of Ft. Lukman, that it held an infirmary with high-tech equipment. But that couldn’t compare with a genuine medical facility staffed by specialists and nurses. Greg Yarrow was entitled to the best care possible.

“Fire?” The general’s look somehow hardened, despite the overall laxness and pain in his features. “Hell.” That apparently cost him a lot of effort, since he grew silent again.

The siren was extremely loud now. Sara saw the ambulance screech up to the entry kiosk that, only a few minutes earlier, had admitted the general’s now-destroyed car.

The EMTs were allowed in immediately. They quickly gave the general an initial exam, and then loaded him into their vehicle. Lieutenant Grace Andreas-Parran and her husband, Lieutenant Simon Parran, who had just joined the group around the accident site, got into the ambulance with him. Jason also let Sara know who the newly arrived man was—and that he was a doctor, too.

“There are a lot of medical doctors in this unit,” Sara said. Did that have something to do with their apparently woo-woo nature, or did their backgrounds somehow help to mask what Alpha Force was really about?

“Yeah, there are,” Jason responded. “In case you’re wondering, those two are especially appropriate to go with the general. They recently returned here after dealing with an ordeal of their own.” Sara had heard about that from the general. “They’ll take good care of him.”

Major Drew Connell stood beside Sara and Jason, along with some Alpha Force members Sara recognized and other people she didn’t. As the ambulance pulled out of the gate, Drew turned toward them.

“So, cuz,” he said to Jason, then gestured toward the smoldering hulk of the destroyed car. An emergency truck with a Ft. Lukman sign on the side had pulled up and was spraying the wreck with chemicals, presumably to put out the fire. “I doubt there’ll be much left to examine, but when those guys are done I want you to take a lot of pictures. We’ll need to secure the wreck where it is temporarily, but I want you to move it ASAP into a secure part of the main parking structure and cordon it off so no one can reach it till I get a good forensics team here to check it out. I need to know exactly what happened. Vehicles like that don’t just catch fire for no reason. You okay with that?”

“Is that an order, Major?”

“It sure is, Sergeant.”

Jason offered up a halfhearted salute along with his grim smile that looked right at home on his sharp-featured, too-handsome face. “You’ve got it, cuz. Er, sir.”

Sara didn’t smile, even though she recognized the lightness in the exchange between the two cousins as most likely their way of dealing with this terrible event.

At least the general had survived. But now, as Drew had suggested, they had to figure out what had happened.

She wasn’t certain how, but she intended to help.

She would do all that she could to bring to justice anyone involved with endangering her CO.

* * *

One of the first things Jason had done after enlisting in the military, and showing up at Ft. Lukman for a very specialized form of basic training, was to check out the closest auto-repair and maintenance facilities.

Jason understood from even before he enlisted that his primary official assignment would be to take care of Ft. Lukman’s vehicles, which was what he knew best...besides shapeshifting. Oh, and stealing cars—but that would remain in his past. Like it or not, he’d started over here, as a member of Alpha Force.

The base didn’t have much in the way of auto-repair equipment for him to use, though. He’d bought some of the basics. But he had also needed to figure out where he could rent what he’d need only occasionally.

As a result, he had an immediate answer when Drew asked, “Any idea how you’re going to move that thing?”

They both watched the base security guys who’d finished spraying the damaged vehicle with foam to end its smoldering.

“Sure do,” Jason said. “There’s a well-equipped service station in Mary Glen that has a car-carrier tow truck to haul in wrecks or whatever. I’ll see if I can rent it. If not, I’ll get the owner to bring it here and move the carcass for us.”

“Sounds good. Meantime, I’ll keep an eye on that hulk to make sure no one plays with it. We don’t want any further destruction of evidence of what caused the fire, especially if it was somehow deliberately set.”

Jason turned to walk through the substantial group of onlookers still hanging out despite dissipation of the excitement. Sara McLinder remained among them. In fact, the lieutenant hadn’t moved, and he couldn’t read the expression on her beautiful but clearly sad face as she continued to stare in the direction where the general’s ambulance had departed. But it held more than sorrow. Anger? Determination?

Hell, he wanted to find out what she was thinking. He approached her and asked impulsively, “Hey, Lieutenant, you haven’t been here long enough to visit our nearest town, Mary Glen, have you?”

She turned toward him and blinked her amazing blue-green eyes as if she’d just been brought back to awareness from some kind of dream. “No,” she said slowly, as if wondering why he asked, “I haven’t.”

“Okay, then, come with me while I pick up a truck to move that thing. We won’t stay long, but at least you’ll get a sense of the place.” He paused then drew nearer and said in a confidential tone too soft for nearby members of the Ultra Special Forces Team to hear. “Oh, and by the way, some of the townsfolk even believe in shapeshifters. I’ll tell you all about them on the way.”

* * *

Sara was fascinated.

First of all, she liked that, riding beside Jason in his souped-up, old, red Mustang, she could pay much more attention to the road leading away from Ft. Lukman. It was surrounded by gorgeous, thick woodlands composed of trees including mature oaks as well as evergreens.

The road was basically two-lane—barely. They made a sharp left turn at the edge of the base, and Jason swerved to avoid some stones on the pavement.

Sara was definitely an urbanite, but she still found the area charming and attractive. Definitely worth visiting.

But not under these circumstances.

“How far is Mary Glen from here?” she asked Jason.

“Not far in mileage.” He glanced toward her from the driver’s seat for only an instant before redirecting his eyes back to the risky road. “Light years away in attitude.”

“I suppose you’re going to explain,” she said.

“I suppose I am.” He grinned. And then he began telling her an utterly wild tale about Mary Glen and some murders that had been committed there over several years. “I don’t have firsthand knowledge of this,” Jason said, “But my cuz Drew told me about it. It’s how he met his wife, Melanie, in fact. Now they even have a kid—little Emily.”

“Really?” Sara said. “Now I’m getting interested.”

“Okay, I’ll tell you about it. First of all, he said a lot of townsfolk bought into the legend of shapeshifters living in the area. I don’t go to town a lot, but I gather some of its citizens still believe the story. If nothing else, they liked the legend because it brought tourists—and, in fact, it’s one reason Ft. Lukman was established so near Mary Glen, as only loonies like them would buy into the rumor that anyone had seen shifters in the area. Other people here, though, hated both the idea and shapeshifters.”

He explained how the parents of Lieutenant Patrick Worley, one of the members of Alpha Force, had been killed by silver bullets, about a year apart, theoretically because they were werewolves.

“And in fact, Dr. Worley, senior, was a shifter. After he died, Patrick sold his dad’s veterinary practice to Dr. Melanie Harding—Melanie Harding-Connell now, my cousin-in-law. Drew’s wife.”

It seemed that a cult of shapeshifting groupies used to hang out in Mary Glen hoping to see, and perhaps dispose of, some shapeshifters by shooting them with silver bullets. Maybe some still did.

“That’s an absolute myth, though,” Jason added. “Shapeshifters can be killed just like regular people, by any normal kind of ammunition.”

Sara just rolled her eyes but didn’t comment.

In any event, back then someone had shot Drew’s cover dog, Grunge, who was found injured by Melanie, and, excellent vet that she was, she had saved the dog’s life—while endangering her own as an apparent shapeshifter lover. She’d proven to the town that Grunge was not Drew in shifted form. Drew, of course, never admitted to shapeshifting—especially not to that wacko group of people.

Eventually, after more killings, the perpetrator was finally caught. Things around Mary Glen—and around Ft. Lukman—had settled down to a relatively peaceful existence.

Until now.

“Do you suppose anyone from town could have sabotaged the general’s car?” Sara asked.

“Possibly, but that all happened a while ago. I’d bet instead that it was a member of our new best friends, the USFT.”

“But why?” said Sara.

“When we figure that out,” Jason replied, “we’ll probably know who it was, too.”

Their discussion was enough of a diversion for Sara that the drive to the main street of Mary Glen, Maryland, went quickly.

So shapeshifting was real. Jason certainly sounded convincing.

He had looked even more convincing....

* * *

The car-carrier truck was definitely available for rent. At the right price. At the right high price.

But hell, Jason thought. Uncle Sam would be footing the bill, not him.

And the vehicle, with its black, shining cab in front and car-size, ramplike bed in back—along with a hookup to pull a car onto it—was exactly what he needed.

Sara didn’t seem impressed, but he figured she wasn’t a vehicle aficionado, at least not the way he was. He haggled for a few minutes with the owner of the service station that owned the truck, though, so she’d figure he was a good military guy who wanted to save his employer, and his country, some money.

After more discussion, he locked his beloved Mustang in a relatively secure-looking garage area.

He then returned to the truck, opened the passenger door and took Sara’s hand, helping her climb inside.

He liked touching her warm hand, feeling her firm grip.

Wondering what it might feel like elsewhere on his body...

Hell, what was he thinking? Why had he even taken this woman along with him? It wasn’t in his nature to feel sorry for someone who was apparently suffering in sympathy for a downed friend—in this case, a superior officer.

But he had enjoyed her company. Too much.

“This thing rides amazingly well,” Sara said as they headed back toward Ft. Lukman. Then she paused. “But I really like your Mustang.”

Okay. If he hadn’t already been attracted to her, Jason knew he would be now.

But, he told himself, just because she was beautiful and sexy and fun to tease—and talk to—and he’d inhaled her light and appealing citrus scent on their entire ride to town, and even though she liked his car, that didn’t mean he could let himself get involved with her.

She was an officer—a non-Alpha Force one at that. She seemed completely by the book. Ready to obey all orders of her commanding officer, the injured general.

Horrified that she’d seen Jason shapeshift and now trying to ignore it.

And he was just a military peon.

One who happened to be a shapeshifter, and proud of it.

* * *

Their ride back from Mary Glen wasn’t as enjoyable to Sara as going the other direction.

Surprisingly, she had been enthralled by Jason’s glib tale about the quaint small town and its foibles. Not that she’d liked hearing about murders and strange shapeshifter groupies, but the way Jason had described the amazingly squirrely people had captured her interest.

But on the way back, it seemed as though he’d exhausted his interest in the town—and her.

Even so, their being cooped up in the small cab of that truck hadn’t seemed uncomfortable.

Sara hadn’t let it.

Her verbal encouragement hadn’t spurred Jason to tell more stories about Mary Glen, or even himself. Maybe he didn’t want to talk to her about his shapeshifting. Maybe then he would have had to explain what Alpha Force was really about.

And Sara would have enjoyed hearing it. Been relieved, in fact, to learn the secrets.

She had other questions about him, too. Why had he joined the military at all? He didn’t seem enthralled by it. Was it simply to join this team of military shapeshifters?

But he was a noncommissioned officer, and many other members of Alpha Force whom she’d met so far were lieutenants and above. Why was he different?

She didn’t ask. Not now. And when Jason stayed quiet, Sara had started talking about herself—and how she had become General Yarrow’s aide. She’d first gotten her undergraduate degree in political science at Kent State University, where she’d also joined ROTC. She’d always wanted to give back to her country, plus she loved the order of the military. She’d planned early on to make it her career.

She didn’t mention, though, that Alan, her college boyfriend, had thought her nuts and kept trying to get her to do things outside the box. All he did was make her feel uncomfortable.

One night she’d joined Alan at a party and found him drinking, indulging in “recreational” drugs—and making out with another woman. That ended their relationship. And Sara hadn’t been seriously interested in another man since then.

Which was a good thing, especially now. She would never get involved with someone like Jason. She was superior in rank to him. She had the honor of being an aide to a general, and Jason fixed cars.

And, worst of all, he was an amazingly genuine shapeshifter.

His sexy, amusing demeanor didn’t make up for any of that.

“I’d really like to know more about Alpha Force,” she finally finished. “And what makes it tick. General Yarrow is really proud to be the unit’s commanding officer and always hinted broadly at its...unusual characteristics. One thing I do like is the camaraderie among its members.” Although she knew she’d have to remind herself more than once that it was okay to call other members here by their first names instead of their ranks, as she did sometimes in private with her mentor, Greg Yarrow. She’d slipped, though, out of fear for him earlier today, but she wouldn’t do it again.

Alpha Force was military, but its members clearly were less formal than any other unit she had associated with.

Jason shot a quick glance at her then—just as he flipped on the truck’s turn signal.

They were back at Ft. Lukman, and he was about to enter the part of the road nearest the entry—just beyond where they’d first seen General Yarrow’s car on fire.

Jason slowed down again, as if seeking clues. Or avoiding those stones on the road. Or both.

Sara couldn’t help it. She looked around, too. The area was surrounded by trees similar to those they’d passed all along the drive. Could someone have shot something from the cover of the forest that set the Jeep’s canvas on fire?

But wouldn’t the guard in the kiosk have seen it?

Maybe it had been completely accidental. Maybe the people studying what was left of the vehicle would find an indication of what the general had been storing in the back that caught fire. Or maybe he was a closet smoker—though she’d been around him a lot over the past months and had seen, and smelled, no indication of that. And surely the vehicle would have been designed, for safety, for its canvas cover to withstand being hit by a lit butt, just in case.

Still, it seemed awfully coincidental for it to start burning in earnest, however it caught fire, just when the general entered Ft. Lukman.

Jason stopped at the kiosk. As he showed credentials to the guard who greeted them, Sara jumped as she heard a rapping on the passenger window beside her. She looked over.

It was Major Connell. She immediately pressed the button to roll the window down.

“Good,” said the major. “You’re back.”

Sara felt herself quiver in anticipation. Had something else bad happened? Before asking, she looked around.

The hulk of General Yarrow’s car was still there in the spot ahead of them. A couple of soldiers stood by it, rifles at their shoulders, obviously guarding the vehicle’s corpse.

With the truck she rode in, there was a means of moving it to an out-of-the-way spot for further study before official disposal.

For now, though, Jason would have to steer around it.

But not immediately.

Sara stared back out the window toward Drew. “Is the general—” she began.

“He’s doing okay. He wants to see you and me at the hospital ASAP.”

“Fine.” But Sara darted a glance toward Jason. “Only—”

“I’ll get some of the guys to help me move the damaged car onto the ramp back there,” he said, casually gesturing toward the back of the truck. He didn’t seem at all perturbed that she’d be deserting him this quickly.

Which shot a bolt of unanticipated sorrow through Sara.

She hadn’t planned on being with Jason for this amount of time.

She certainly hadn’t planned on enjoying it.

But this just might be the only opportunity she would ever have to spend time with this appealing, sexy—and unattainable—man.

Ever.

And now it was over.