“I never said that.”
“Didn’t have to. You were looking at him like you wanted to plaster him against a wall. Same way you were lookin’ at me.”
Since Cole knew he couldn’t make a convincing argument against that, he let it pass. “Then who is calling the shots?”
“We’re workin’ on that.”
Waggoner shook his head and rubbed his temples. “I don’t know if it’s everything that’s been going on or if it’s because of these drops, but I feel a dizzy spell coming on.”
“Get used to it,” Cole said. “I’ve been feeling like that ever since I saw my first werewolf. Okay, Rico. So the Torva’ox flows into humans. Can we use it?”
“I don’t know and I ain’t even sure we’ll get a chance to find out. That shit that’s flowing through them Full Bloods makes them stronger, and this stone just seems to give the Torva’ox some extra spark so we can see it, or maybe adds more of a kick. I don’t know. We didn’t even make the damn thing. All I can tell you is that your average human being is sucking away the power that those Full Bloods want. Now if you were one of those big hairy sons of bitches, and you went through all that trouble to get the juices flowing, what would you think about so many little monkeys leeching off of the source?”
“I’d want to get rid of them,” Cole said.
Waggoner wanted to rub his eyes, but stopped himself. “Is that why they’ve come after us so hard?”
Now, Rico slapped Waggoner on the shoulder. “That’s the shitty thing about being able to see things from another perspective. Doesn’t always paint a pretty picture. Take the Jekhibar,” he said to Cole.
“You sure about that?”
“Yeah. It’ll be a good long while before anyone figures out a way to get that hatch open anyway, after what I did to mess with those runes. When someone finds out about that, I’ll steer the explanation toward interference caused by too many new recruits scuffing up the symbols. Should keep ’em busy for a few weeks. Think you can get it back to me by then?”
“I honestly don’t know,” Paige replied as she strode toward them. Her Beretta was in hand and ready to provide assistance if Rico stepped out of line, but she’d apparently decided that wasn’t necessary. “What will you do if things get too hot for you with the Vigilant?”
Rico showed her a crooked smile and plenty of blocky teeth. “I’ll leave. I been hidin’ from guys a lot more dangerous than them for a long time. Now that I know they were lyin’ to me about not knowin’ anything about Cole being locked up, I don’t feel too bad about jerkin’ them around. Until then, I’ll stay in town and see what more I can find about them. Somethin’ tells me we’ll have enough work to do for me to remain a valuable asset.”
Paige holstered her pistol and rubbed his arm. “Take care of yourself, okay?”
“You too, Bloodhound. You owe me for this and I’ll collect.”
Chapter Ten
Shreveport, Louisiana
Two miles northwest of the Bossier City Reservoir
The NH-90 tactical transport helicopter roared over the flat Louisiana landscape amid a roar of engines. It was only one in a formation of the metallic aerial predators that had been specially modified for service in the IRD. One thing that hadn’t needed modification was the thermal imaging camera mounted to its nose. As the helicopter sped toward Shreveport, it scanned the terrain for any sign of its prey.
Inside, Major Adderson hung onto a steel grip bolted over his head so he could remain upright without taking his eyes from the thermal camera’s display. Since the sun was still adding some heat to the ground and casting a glare, he adjusted the monitor to a less sensitive setting while also flipping it to black and white. Almost immediately a group of white blobs leapt out at him from the dark gray mass covering most of the screen. “We have contact,” he said to the man beside him.
The other man stood with Adderson and the pilot in the front section of the aircraft. He was short with a wiry build tailor-made for the tight confines of jets and attack copters. Hanging from another of the hand grips mounted to the ceiling, he looked over Adderson’s shoulder at the display and said, “Looks like a pack of Class Twos. Kind of small, though.” He reached over for a little stick set into the console near the bottom right portion of the screen. With a few expert nudges, he panned around to where he wanted despite the helicopter’s churning forward movement. “There they are. Looks like two smaller packs running alongside that other one.” He reached for the switch of the radio clipped to the front of his flight suit and said, “Veer off to the west and swing back around. Flight pattern Alpha.”
“Alpha,” Adderson said. “You think there’s a Class One out there?”
“Class Twos travel in packs anyway, but when you see little groups working together, that usually means there’s a big papa somewhere nearby steering them.”
As if responding to that, the pilot spoke through the channel designated for local chatter. “Visual contact on a possible Class One. Please verify. Over.”
Adderson allowed the smaller man to work the controls until a huge white blob marking a heat source smeared across the screen. He switched away from the thermal imaging then and got a good look at a massive Full Blood covered in thick layers of silvery gray fur that flowed across its back as it loped on all fours behind at least a dozen Half Breeds. After flipping over to a broader channel, Adderson keyed his radio and announced, “Ravens Two and Three, this is Raven One. Confirmed sighting of a Class One shifter and several packs of Class Twos. Be advised, unknown number of additional Class Twos in the vicinity.” After keying off of the open channel, he moved away from the monitor and allowed the smaller man to take his spot back.
The main cabin of the helicopter contained five soldiers who were buckled into seats that folded down from the wall or from a set of posts in the middle of the cramped space. As the NH-90 banked through a wide turn, Adderson shifted his weight to keep from stumbling as he studied his men. The soldiers were dressed in standard black, white, and gray camo fatigues bearing only a name tag and the half-wolf, half-skull patch of the IRD. Each was armed with an HK G36 assault rifle. Adderson claimed one for himself from a rack as he said, “In case you haven’t heard, we found the dogs we were after. There’s a whole lot of them along with one big papa. Looks like they’re headed for Shreveport, but we’re not about to let that happen. Am I right?”
Despite being a mix of races, nationalities, and gender, all of the soldiers responded with an affirmative bark that made them sound like their own breed of pack animal. Their rifles were held in steady hands and their eyes reflected just the right mixture of aggression and anxiety.
“Standard drill,” Adderson continued. “We land and deploy while the others provide air support and reinforcements if necessary. Our mission is to set explosives and try to draw those things close enough to feel the burn. Our specialists left some of their sniper rounds, but there’s not a lot left.”
“Do we have any specialists on this mission, sir?” one of the soldiers asked.
Even though the extent of the Skinners’ knowledge wasn’t commonly known to the IRD rank and file, their contributions had been large enough for their presence to be immediately felt. There were only a handful of Skinners who’d agreed to ride with the IRD on any mission, and only Cole and Paige could be counted on with any consistency. Still, no matter how much a rifleman knew about what Skinners actually did, they were aware that having them along greatly increased their odds of survival. Adderson had plenty of faith in his men, but a morale boost like that was hard to come by. He felt a regretful pang in his gut when he told them, “No specialists this time around, although I was informed by one of them that there’s a pair of fighter jets in the air that may be able to rain some hell down on these things.”