The Werewolf of Marines Trilogy

by Jonathan P. Brazee

  There were always rumors of feral tribes (the Council considered anyone not under its control “feral”) in the more remote areas of the world. Twenty years before, the Council had even acted on a small feral tribe living in northern Canada. That small group rejected the Council’s authority and reverted to considering humans as nothing more than prey. The Council, fearful of exposure, eliminated the threat. So, according to Hozan, the Leewekhel might have good reason to stay out of sight.

  Hozan had felt the shift of so many vargs and attuned his senses to the mountains above the FOB. When Aiden had shifted, he recognized it and shifted to his lycan form, that of a full wolf. He tore up the mountains, tracking the group down, hoping he would be in time. It had been a near thing. Another five minutes would have been too late, and Aiden would have been executed to keep the village’s very existence a secret by eliminating any attention Aiden’s shifting could bring to the area.

  Hozan had burst into the village, where werewolf tradition going back hundreds of years gave him the right to speak. Unfortunately, Hozan did not speak Pashto, and no one in the tribe spoke Kurdish or Arabic, and only one oldster spoke any English. They finally found a common tongue: Farsi. It had taken awhile, but Hozan had finally convinced Zakia, their leader, that not only was Aiden not a threat, he was an ally. He was working to free the land of the drug smugglers, and any indiscretions he had shown while shifting were simply due to his only recently being turned and not knowing there was anyone else in the Tribe (the Leewekhel considered themselves as in the Tribe, just not under the Council) in the area.

  To Aiden, Hozan’s reasoning didn’t make sense, but he was glad this Zakia accepted it. The alternative would not have boded well for either of the two of them.

  Hozan had promised them that with Aiden’s “high” position, he could help deflect attention from their tribe.

  “My ‘high position?’” Aiden had asked. “I’m a dumb grunt, nothing more. You lied to them.”

  “So you wanted me to tell the truth, that their fears were valid and they should kill us?” Hozan asked.

  “No, of course not. It’s just that I thought, I mean, you have your honor, right?”

  “My honor died with my family in Halabja. My honor died when the Soviets used our Republic of Mahabad for their cold war propaganda, then turned us out when we were of no more use to them. My honor died when Günter Wais sent his assassin to kill you because he was at odds with your patron’s father.”

  That shut Aiden up. And if that lie kept both of them alive, he was glad his friend had had the quick wits to make it. It wasn’t as if Hozan had been completely honest with him, after all. He’d kept the entire wolf capability a secret from him.

  Aiden was a little pissed about that, but also excited. He wanted to know more. At last, Hozan seemed finished with what happened in the village, and Aiden waited expectantly. He’d figured out the important part, but he wanted Hozan to confirm it.

  When Hozan explained that while the varg form was the one most used by members of the Tribe, the lycan form was considered the pinnacle of their very essence. This is who they truly are.

  “I knew it!” Aiden said. “So how can I make that shift?”

  “You can’t,” Hozan said with a resigned expression.

  “What, more Council rules? You know what they can do with those,” Aiden said, suddenly angry.

  “No, not the Council. Nature. Only bloods can make the full shift, and not every blood can do it. Kreuzung don’t have the ability.”

  “Bullshit. You’re lying again.”

  “I’m afraid that’s the truth. You can try if you want, but you won’t be able to do it. No kreuzung has ever made the shift.”

  Fuck yeah I’m going to try it. No, not just try it. Do it! Aiden thought.

  Aiden grilled Hozan about the process, and his friend didn’t seem to be holding back. Aiden was convinced that Hozan thought he was telling the truth. Aiden just didn’t accept that as a fact.

  One aspect about his experience with Zakia still confused him. It was her ability at thought control. Hozan always held that the Tribe’s abilities were based on science and nature, and thought control was right out of science fiction.

  Hozan laughed when Aiden mentioned “mind control.”

  “No, it is nature. All members of the Tribe both give off and are susceptible—that is the word, right? Susceptible. Yes, all members are susceptible to pheromones. As a human, you can only barely sense them. As a varg, they are much more pronounced. And as a lycan, they can almost overwhelm you.”

  “But I felt her. I had to do what she wanted.”

  “Zakia is an alpha, a very strong alpha. That is why she is the leader.”

  “I wanted to ask you about that. Why is she the tribal chief? I thought only men held those positions here.”

  “Like I said, she is an alpha, and our biology has been developed over tens if not hundreds of thousands of years, long before human culture emerged. And she is an alpha because her pheromones are stronger than that of anyone else in her village. What you did was not what she wanted, really, but what you thought she wanted. You naturally felt subservient to her as an alpha, and you needed to let her know you accepted your positions relative to each other. She couldn’t control you, but she could make you want to please her.”

  “That sounds pretty weird, if you ask me. It felt like mind control. I know about pheromone perfume and stuff, but when Claire tried it, I couldn’t tell the difference,” Aiden said, not convinced.

  “But when your Claire wants you to bed her, you do, right?”

  “Well yeah, of course. But that’s just being in love.”

  “And is that all?”

  “Well, horny, too,” Aiden admitted, feeling uncomfortable discussing his sex life.

  “Was your Claire using mind control?”

  “No, of course not. I wanted it, too.”

  “And somehow, you knew she wanted you just like you wanted her. Pheromones,” Hozan said smugly, point made.

  Aiden gave up. He wasn’t sure he bought all of that. Sometimes, despite their time together, Aiden still thought of Hozan as some backwards mountain Kurd, yet here he was talking about pheromones and pack alphas, things that were beyond Aiden’s comprehension. Aiden had a lot to absorb, and it would take some thinking to get it all straight in his mind.

  One thing was for sure, though. Hozan might be the werewolf expert, but not the Aiden expert. No matter what anyone else thought, Aiden would make the shift all the way to his inner wolf.

  Chapter 12

  “He’ll be here in a few minutes,” MT said, coming in the little plywood structure that stood in as Keenan’s “office.”

  Keenan sat behind his field desk, marshalling his thoughts. He needed some feedback from MT.

  “So, what do you think?” he asked his assistant.

  “Think about what?” MT asked.

  “You know damned well what. About our little call,” Keenan said.

  “I . . . uh . . . I don’t think that’s my call.”

  “Bullshit. I want your opinion. Was the colonel involved with this little incident?”

  MT looked pensive, as if trying to figure out what he could and could not say. Keenan and MT had a very close working relationship that went beyond them both missing legs, and they tended to be quite informal with each other. But still, Keenan was a major, MT a Spec 5, and they were discussing a bird colonel.

  “If you really want to know my opinion,” he finally relented, “I think it smells like shit.”

  Which was exactly what Keenan thought, if not so eloquently put. During their phone update, Colonel Tarniton had berated Keenan for his lack of progress, telling him he had to gain Kaas’ trust and confidence. He was supposed to become Kaas’ friend. When Keenan had asked for a clarification, the colonel had told him that Kaas’ mother had been roughed up during a break-in, and he wanted Keenan to break the news to the corporal, let him call home on their sat phone, and offer any
assistance.

  The “home invasion” seemed pretty coincidental, and Keenan asked the colonel if he’d had anything to do with it.

  “Goddamn it, Major! I’ve told you before that we are not the fucking CIA. We don’t beat up women to get our way. But since it did happen, there’s no use wasting the opportunity,” the colonel had thundered over the phone.

  “What if he wants emergency leave?” Keenan asked, not sure how to directly respond to the colonel’s outburst.

  “Sympathize, say you’ll work on it and make him think you are, but it won’t be approved. I can promise you that. You’ve disappointed me so far, Major, and it’s about time you manned up. Get on his good side, but employ the bug. We need visual proof. Tarniton, out.”

  Keenan turned off the speaker, then looked up at MT, who’d been listening in.

  “You got that thing?” Keenan asked.

  MT held up a small, nondescript package that had come with the last helo lift into the FOB.

  “And you know how to work it?”

  MT nodded.

  “Well, then, I guess we’ve got our marching orders. Let’s see if he’s available now. It’s morning in Vegas, so the timing’s right.”

  MT took a moment to prepare the small bug. This was getting to be too much for Keenan. The colonel was right. They weren’t the CIA. They were the US Army, and this spy shit was getting pretty deep. Now he was the one to break the news to Kaas? What about the normal procedures, going through the Marine’s chain of command? Wasn’t it frigging weird that an outside Army major would take over this task? He should not be reaching out to a man in another command, and then keeping that contact secret as per the colonel’s orders.

  He was sure that the colonel had arranged for Kaas’ mother’s assault. And when MT stated his opinion, that pretty much cemented it for him. The question was what he would do about it. He was in the middle of the Hindu Kush, a long, long way from the Pentagon. He had to either march on or request a relief, and frankly, he had to admit to himself that he was a little concerned as to what would happen if he did that. COL Tarniton didn’t seem to be a man who took refusal well.

  Neither Keenan nor MT seemed to want to catch each other’s eyes as they waited. Keenan almost wanted MT to suggest that they disobey orders. That would at least give him moral support. But Army training was pretty strong, and disobeying a senior officer had to have a very strong and valid reason behind it.

  After ten minutes of silence, there was a knock on the door.

  “Enter!” Keenan barked out, a little more forcibly than he’d intended.

  Aiden Kaas, a puzzled look on his face, entered and centered himself in the small space in front of Keenan’s desk, came to attention, and said, “Corporal Kaas, reporting as ordered, sir!”

  “Thank you for coming. Here, take off your battle rattle, son. You can hang it on the tree there,” Keenan told him, pointing at the pieces of two-by-four that had been nailed together to make a short, upright T.

  Most offices had the makeshift stands onto which body armor and webbing could be hung, close enough to don quickly if need be. Aiden looked over at the tree by the door, then almost susciciously took off his gear.

  “Here, sit,” Keenan continued as MT unfolded a small chair and placed it in front of the Marine.

  Warily, almost as if he were a wild animal, Kaas carefully sat on the chair, his body posture a clear sign that he was nervous.

  Is that because of my rank, or does he really have something to hide? Keenan wondered.

  He’d had half an hour to prepare, but still, Keenan was not sure how to start. He looked at the ceiling of his plywood shack, marshalling his thoughts.

  “Sir, I’ve got a girlfriend!” Kaas suddenly blurted out.

  That was unexpected, to say the least. Keenan stared at the young man in confusion.

  “What?” was about all he could muster.

  “I’ve got a girlfriend, in Hawaii. We’re gonna get married, too!”

  “Well, uh, I thank you for sharing that. I’m not sure why you did, but—”

  “Begging the major’s pardon and all, and I’m not judging anyone, but I like girls!”

  “WHAT?” Keenan yelled out, standing up as MT broke into uncontrolled laughter.

  A panicked look crossed Kaas’ face as he stammered out, “I mean —”

  “I know what you mean, corporal, but where in hell’s name did you get that idea!”

  “I . . . I mean . . . the other guys, they said . . . oh, shit!” Kaas said, a look of mortification washing over his face.

  Keenan glared at MT who was trying manfully to control his laughter.

  I hope you choke, he thought, looking daggers at him.

  He sat back down, and calmed himself. “You shouldn’t pay attention to bullshit, corporal. I assure you, that there is nothing further from the truth.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset the major. I just thought . . . never mind that, sir. But why did you want to see me?” he asked.

  That sobered the two soldiers up. No one liked to be the bearer of bad tidings.

  “As the senior officer aboard the FOB, I have to give you some bad news,” he began hoping that Kaas wouldn’t realize that senior officer or not, as Kaas was not in his chain of command, it wasn’t up to him to give Kaas the news. “Something happened to your mother.”

  “What happened?” Kaas asked, jumping up to stand over Keenan’s desk. “Tell me!”

  “Easy, son! She’s OK, a little banged up, but OK. The police have responded, and I pulled in a few personal favors to get the Air Force MPs at Nellis on the scene and take care of her.”

  He went on to tell him the scenario, that it was a home invasion gone wrong, that his mother was roughed up. The two perpetrators ran off before they could steal anything, though.

  As expected, Kaas immediately wanted to go home on emergency leave. “I’ve got to get there. There’s nobody there to help her, and she doesn’t have health insurance. She needs me!” he told Keenan.

  As the colonel had ordered, Keenan promised to push through the request, knowing that was a flat-out lie. He hadn’t thought about medical care, though, so he made a promise that he would ensure she was checked out by one of the doctors at the Nellis clinic. That was against just about every regulation known to the military, but this promise, Keenan vowed he’d keep if he had to get the colonel to bring it up with the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs himself.

  “Look, I’ve got my own sat phone here. It is for official business only, but I’d say this is official, wouldn’t you agree, Specialist Sutikal?”

  “Yes, sir, major. I’d say it is,” MT answered.

  “Here, take this phone. Why don’t you step outside and call your mom. I’ll get the ball rolling on getting her checked out, OK?”

  A grateful Kaas took the phone and stepped out the door. Immediately, MT sprang into action. He carefully removed the tiny spy cam from its case and attached it inside one of the loops on the flak jacket, making a tiny hole in the material so the cam could view and record the scene. This was a very high piece of tech. It would not only record, but it would download the recording to a hard drive whenever the two pieces of equipment were within a klick or so of each other. With a quick application of extra material, the bug was almost unnoticeable. Keenan listened through the door to Kaas on the phone to make sure they weren’t caught. Both men sat down with relief when the installation was complete.

  A few minutes later, Kaas came back in the office and handed Keenan back the phone.

  “How is she?” Keenan asked.

  “Shaken up and bruised, but not hurt too bad,” a somber Kaas answered. “I told her I was going to come home, but she said no, it wasn’t necessary. She’d had worse from my father when he was still around, she said.”

  That made Keenan wince. These were real people, with real histories, and if the colonel was just treating them as pawns in some big game, then Keenan wanted no part in that.

  “
She refused treatment by the paramedics, but I told her you promised to send someone over to check her out. I really appreciate that, too, sir.”

  “Well, we have to look out after each other, right? I know it’ll be hard, but why not go back and try to get some sleep? I’ll let you know anything new that comes out of all of this. And if you need anything, anything, just let one of us know.”

  “Uh, well, OK. I’ll let my lieutenant know I’m putting in for emergency leave. Thanks for all the major’s help, sir. I really appreciate it.”

  Kaas came to attention, did a smart about face, then left the office.

  “Check it out, MT,” Keenan ordered.

  MT pulled out the receiver and turned it on. The screen flickered, and then the video appeared. It was jerking as Kaas walked, but it worked. At Keenan’s nod, MT turned it off. The camera itself would be good for up to five days. After that, they’d have to retrieve it and change the battery, but that was another day’s problem.

  The two soldiers sat quietly for almost a minute before MT said in an affected voice, “But sir, I have a girlfriend!”

  It was amazing how nimble a one-legged man could be while simultaneously laughing and dodging the manual Keenan threw at him.

  Chapter 13

  “You sure you don’t want me to carry anything for you?” Aiden asked Hozan.

  “No need. We are their guests, and they will provide,” Hozan said, shrugging as Aiden stuffed his clothes into his assault pack.

  Hozan had told Aiden they had been requested to visit Leewekhel again. Aiden had initially refused. If he wasn’t out on a mission, his duty was to stay in the FOB. And what if someone came looking for him? He was still waiting for his emergency leave to get approved, and if that approval came in overnight, they’d be looking for him.

  But Aiden was curious about the small tribe. Other than Hozan, he’d never met another werewolf who wasn’t out to either kill or beat him senseless. Something about this tribe called to him. Hozan thought it was just Zakia’s lingering “alphaness,” but Aiden wasn’t sure. Werewolves were now his “people,” so to speak, and he wanted to know more about them, and by inference, about himself as well.