Fated To The Soldier Fox (Special Ops Shifters: Dallas Force Book 3)

by Meg Ripley

  She could report him for being sexist. Erica had thought about it many times before. She knew, however, that even if Randall got fired, there would just be another misogynist waiting to take his place. And, just like Mr. Holt wanted in his report, there were no cold, hard facts to really prove he’d said what he did. “Right, sir. Of course.”

  Thinking he’d won, Randall pushed himself off the doorframe. Erica thought he would turn and go, but he stepped forward and leaned down. He put his hand on the corner of her desk, his fingertips whitening with the pressure. “Women don’t belong in this field, and you and I both know it. They don’t want you for any of the overseas operations because it’s too dangerous. Heaven help the department if one of you wants to go off and have a baby because then you think you deserve all this time off. If I had my way, we’d have a complete remodel of this place.”

  She met his eyes, putting all her anger and ferocity behind her glare. “I think a complete remodel is exactly what we need,” she said evenly.

  It wasn’t what he expected, and he straightened. “I take it that means you’re looking for a different job? Maybe a nice secretarial position somewhere?”

  “No. It means we’d get a lot more done if all the dicks got out of the way. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.” Pointedly, she turned to her computer and began typing.

  Holt sputtered and fumed for a moment before he disappeared.

  “You didn’t?” Andrea almost choked on her turkey sandwich a few hours later in the breakroom. “Good God, I would’ve loved to have seen his face.”

  Erica had worried a little after her confrontation with Mr. Holt. He was her boss, after all. “I did. I’ve been holding it back for too long with him. He thinks that just because I’m good at my job, there must be something wrong; like if things go smoothly, I must be cheating somehow.” In a way, she was. Her psychic abilities certainly gave her an advantage that no one else had. If she was using them to keep people safe, though, it seemed an easy enough thing to justify.

  “So, tell me when the grand inquisition is and if I’ll be called to trial to testify,” Andrea teased.

  “I’m guessing there won’t be one,” Erica replied with a shrug. “Believe me, for about an hour after that, I flinched every time someone walked past my door, convinced someone from HR was on their way to get me. But I didn’t hear anything. I figure no news is good news.”

  “He’d be an idiot to get wrapped up with you in a war like that, considering everything he’s said to you,” Andrea pointed out. “If you wrote down every incident, you’d have a whole novel to hand over.”

  “Maybe, but you and I both know this place is a man’s world. They think we’re delicate little flowers who’ve tried shoving our way boobs-first into the field just because we don’t want to be housewives. It’s awful.” She stabbed her fork into her baked potato, but it wasn’t very satisfying.

  “You’re telling me. I’ve made the mistake of referring to myself as Andy so many times that everyone else calls me that, too. Then someone calls my office expecting a man, and they get so baffled when I insist that, yes, I’m Andy.” She laughed and shook her head of tight black curls. “Ridiculous.”

  Erica glanced around at the cafeteria, realizing just how familiar of a scene this was. “You know, when I was high school, I spent a lot of time daydreaming about how great everything would be once I was all grown up and I didn’t have to deal with the politics of a small town anymore. It’s a shame to find out that isn’t true.”

  Andrea cracked open a Coke. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean adult life is just the same as it was back in high school, except we fool ourselves into thinking we’re more mature. Holt thinking I’m not capable isn’t any different than a football team or robotics league that doesn’t want a girl to join their ranks. And look around this room.” She gestured widely at the various tables. “It’s mostly the exact same groups as there were back then.”

  Her friend was looking around now, too, understanding what she meant. “There are the preps in their Prada suits, the popular girls wearing all the latest fashions, and even the nerds from IT. Granted, they’re not nearly as nerdy as they used to be when I was in school. We’ve come a long way now that there are better prescription glasses on the market.” Andrea waggled her fingers at one of the tech guys.

  “See? Like I said.”

  “Okay, we’ve got everyone else categorized, but where does that leave us? What table are we sitting at?” Andrea challenged.

  Erica tipped her head to one side. “Well, if all things really are equal, then we’re the weirdos, the freaks, the misfits.”

  “I have a hard time imagining that was you.” Andrea dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “You’ll have to bring in an old photo of you in black lipstick to prove it.”

  “No, not a goth,” Erica replied with a sardonic smile. In fact, it would’ve been nice if a difference in style was what had separated her from the other kids her age. She’d tried hard to fit in. That’s a difficult enough task for anyone that age who’s still trying to figure out who they are, but it’s even harder for a girl who’s realizing all those strange feelings she has and the odd things going through her head aren’t just hormones, but psychic powers. Even now, she still couldn’t share her true story there at work. Andrea was a great person, but a secret like that was too much to ask anyone else to keep.

  “We moved around a lot when I was a kid,” she explained. “We ended up in a lot of small towns because my mom wasn’t big on city life. She thought she was doing me a favor because of the kinds of troubles you hear about with metropolitan areas, but she never really understood what it was like for me. I mean, I went to schools where all the other students had practically known each other since they were born. I was an instant outsider, and I’d lived in other places and seen different things. There was no possible way for me to fit in, no matter what I did.”

  “The guys must have liked you, at least,” Andrea pointed out.

  Erica shrugged. “A few here and there, but there’s something about me that just turns guys away. My dad used to say it’s because I’m smart, and they don’t like anyone they can’t control.” She had to laugh at little at that one. “I guess he isn’t entirely wrong in that. Even as an adult, guys only like me until I open my mouth and they realize I have a brain.”

  Andrea gave her a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, sweetie. That’s rough, and even more so because it’s true. Around this place, I’m not sure I’d want to date anyway.”

  Erica waved off her concerns. “Don’t mind me. I wasn’t trying to make anyone feel sorry for me. I just think the comparison between then and now is interesting. I have a feeling Holt probably didn’t fit in any better than I did, and that’s why he’s always giving me such hell.” She glanced around the room once again, thinking about that last remark from Andrea. There were plenty of men working in intelligence, but her coworker was right. There wasn’t a single one of them she knew that she’d want to go out with.

  “Anyway, on a slightly different note, I’m getting shipped out again in a couple of days. A potential terrorist cell has popped up in Illinois. It should be an interesting operation, considering Winston Anders is involved.” She was somewhat grateful to have another assignment so quickly, since it meant that at least someone was taking notice of her, but she also wished she had a little more time to recoup.

  Andrea slammed her Coke down. A bit sloshed out onto her fingers, and she licked it off. “You’re getting to work with Winston Anders? Girl, now I know you’ve hit the big time in the intelligence world. That man’s been everywhere and done everything.”

  Erica felt her face heat up and decided not to tell Andrea that Winston had specially requested her for this mission. She didn’t want to rub it in her friend’s face. It was nice to have someone to talk to about work who had the same security clearance she did. Most people could go home and gripe about their customers or their bosses all day long, but as so
on as Erica left the building, she had to keep her lips sealed. “It’ll be interesting, for sure. I was really excited when I found out I was going to be working with him, but when I went in for my briefing this morning, I was also informed they’re bringing in an outside consultant.”

  “That must mean it’s one hell of a big deal,” came Andrea’s conclusion.

  “Maybe, or maybe Randall has told enough people how much he doesn’t trust me and Winston’s convinced I can’t do the job myself. I instantly want to be insulted, but that won’t do me much good.”

  Andrea shrugged. “The one thing I can tell you is that I’ve never heard a bad word about Winston. Everyone loves him, men and women alike, and the rumors about his skills are everywhere. You’ll have a blast.”

  “Maybe.” Erica leaned forward, glancing aside as someone walked to the trash can just to make sure no one was listening. “But if Winston’s so great, then why are they bringing in a consultant? Who could possibly be more experienced than him?”

  “I guess you’ll just have to find out,” Andrea replied with a smile.

  3

  Jack watched the ground disappear under the helicopter. “I have to admit I’m still not sure about this.”

  “What, working with the government again? I can’t say I blame you,” Max said with a laugh from the pilot’s seat. “You won’t catch me letting those assholes boss me around again. I’m happy to keep my work in the private sector from now on.”

  “Yeah, I get it.” Sweat constantly beaded on his skin in this humidity, and Jack wiped his brow. He’d thought a lot before accepting this job, and even once he’d officially taken it, he hadn’t been sure. The Army had given him a purpose in life and he’d enjoyed that, but even more so, he’d enjoyed the freedom of the Special Ops Shifter Force. He wasn’t sure if this was a good idea, but his urge to keep the country safe from terrorists outweighed all uncertainty. Fortunately, he knew he’d have at least one shifter on his side. “I guess we’ll find out soon enough if I’ve made a mistake.”

  Max shook his head. “Don’t think about it like that. You didn’t have much choice.”

  “Thanks, man.” At least there was someone else who understood. He wouldn’t have expected it from Max, who’d always been so full of anger and turmoil. The pilot had calmed down a bit over the last few months, though. “Just do me a favor.”

  “Sure.”

  “Keep this chopper warmed up to come pull me out if things go wrong.” His stomach twisted, and not from the movement of the aircraft. His fox was telling him something. Jack was about to dive into something deep.

  “You got it.”

  A short time later, Max descended the helicopter into a swampy area where thick cypress trees arose from the shallow water. There was a small grassy spot that was slightly drier with a gathering of small cabins. They didn’t look like official government buildings, but these were the coordinates they’d been given. “This chopper’s too heavy for me to land here safely. I don’t want to risk sinking in. Think you’re okay for a short jump?”

  Jack spent most of his time in front of a computer, but there was nothing like the rush of zipping down a fast rope from a chopper. “Yeah, I can handle it.” In fact, he looked forward to it.

  The rotors thumped overhead and echoed in his bloodstream as he affixed the rope to an anchor and pulled the door open. He braced himself against the hull, feeling the wind swoop up in his face as the ground swiftly drew closer.

  At Max’s nod, he let go. It was a short jump, nothing like he’d done when he was still in the service, but the rush of air past him send a thrill of exhilaration through his body. He landed perfectly, bending his knees to absorb the impact. Jack let go of the rope and turned to give Max a thumbs up before stalking toward the cabin.

  The place could’ve just as easily been a wilderness retreat or a scene from a horror flick. Bushy weeds grew up around the foundation, and vines twined themselves around the bowed wooden steps leading up to the porch. The rounded logs that made up the siding had seen better days, but the chinking was still in good condition. It could’ve been a house that belonged to anyone, except for the small security cameras that’d been mounted within the recesses of the eves. Without looking for them, Jack was sure there were other perimeter sensors in place as well. It wasn’t as though he’d tried to make his arrival a secret, considering a chopper had just dropped him off, but it was clear to him that whoever was there was intent on keeping the place secure. His inner fox tensed, watchful and wary.

  The porch boards creaked under his weight as he stepped up to the door. Jack knocked twice, paused, and then knocked twice again. The hinges creaked in protest as the door swung open, revealing a tall man with a slim face and brilliant blue eyes. “Jack! I was starting to think you wouldn’t show up.”

  Jack shook his head and stepped inside, the animal that resided within him relaxing considerably. “Hell, I’m not even late, Winston.” He gripped the other man’s hand firmly, pleased to see his old comrade. As many doubts as he’d had about the mission, Winston had been the tipping point.

  “But you’re only five minutes early,” Winston joked. “Come in and we’ll get started. We’ve got a lot to go over.”

  Jack grinned, pleased. “Sounds great.” He surveyed the open floorplan of the cabin. A small hallway jutted off to the left, probably leading to bedrooms and a bathroom, but the kitchen, dining, and living rooms were all one large area. There was little sign of how the previous occupants might’ve lived since the place was now filled with various castoff metal desks and battered wooden tables, each covered with computers, equipment, and stacks of files.

  This was what he was used to, and Jack instantly felt better about the situation. He stepped past a pile of foreign language dictionaries to follow Winston, ready to get to work. But then the man stepped aside and gestured at a woman seated behind a desk. “Jack, this is Erica. She’s quite talented in the field, and she’ll be working with us.”

  She rose from an office chair well-patched with duct tape. Her long dark hair draped down over her shoulders, a sharp contrast to her lucid green eyes. She watched him carefully as she extended her hand. “It’s nice to meet you. Winston has told me so much.”

  His inner fox went mad as he reached toward her, focusing all his control on his hand so he wouldn’t crush her in his fingers. She was beautiful, no doubt, but why should he be reacting this way? It was as though every impulse he’d ever felt had come rushing to the forefront of his mind, demanding that he act on them. Jack gritted his teeth and split his lips in what he knew was an awkward grin. “I’m sure he has.”

  There was something about her that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. His vulpine half was utterly captivated; that much was obvious. But he was also on defense. Something was different about this woman, and he was determined to find out exactly what.

  He held onto her hand for just a moment longer, trying to deduce if she was a shifter as well. It wasn’t always easy to tell, but Jack prided himself on knowing people and how to read them. He searched for some animal inside her, maybe not necessarily a fox like his own inner beast, but something else. Slowly, reluctantly, he let go of her hand. If not a shifter, then what?

  “Jack, I’d also like you to meet the head of the CMC, Roger Worth.” Winston brought Jack around the back of the room, where a man worked at a large table instead of a desk.

  Dressed in a polo and khakis, he didn’t look like any of the bigtime government officials Jack had worked with before. His sandy hair was mixed with gray at the temples, and he offered a warm handshake. “Great to meet you, Jack. I’ve heard a lot about you, and it sounds like you’ll be just who we need on this case.”

  Jack managed to sneak a pointed look at his old comrade. Winston had talked him up just to get him approved for this mission, he was sure, but he didn’t know if he should appreciate it or not. “I’ll do my best.”

  “Let me clear a little of this paperwork out of the way and we can
get started.” When the four of them were seated at the table, Roger turned his computer monitor around for them to see. “This is Ben Jones, or at least that’s what he goes by now. From what we can tell, he came to the U.S. in the late nineties. He’s currently living in Illinois, running a used car dealership. Ben’s record is absolutely immaculate. Not even a traffic ticket.”

  Jack studied the face on the screen. The photo wasn’t a mug shot or a candid image, but a headshot that’d clearly been taken to promote his business. He smiled kindly at the camera, ready to sell a Buick.

  “Jones has gone to college and received a bachelor’s degree,” Mr. Worth continued. “He hasn’t been stockpiling weapons or making any open threats, and as far as we can tell, he’s not even in contact with anyone back home in the mountains of the Middle East. The one thing that’s odd about him is this particular website.” Roger clicked to the next screen.

  The website was a standard one, the kind created with a free template for those who didn’t know how to code. Jack scanned the screen as quickly as he could, reading Ben’s glowing words about fellowship, peace, harmony, and understanding. The man was asking those who wanted to live in such a utopian society to come and see him so he could show them the way. A couple of links to videos were included at the bottom. “Interesting. Sounds more like a cult following than any of the religious extremist stuff we usually find.”

  “I know,” Roger said with a nod. “We have a few other small pieces of evidence that indicate something weird is happening, but nothing that’s actually illegal. We’ve got satellite images of a big compound he’s built in the Shawnee Forest about half an hour from his car dealership. Again, no law against that, but it’s practically like a small village. More and more people are moving in, too, considering how much traffic we suddenly see on these back-country roads that normally don’t have much more than the occasional tractor on them.”