“I need you like I need a fucking toothache. And right now you’re a bigger liability than you are an asset,” Roberts warned him. “You’re either a part of this team or you’re not.”
James shot him a smirk. “Funny. I was about to say the same thing to you.”
*****
When morning came and the first licks of sunshine broke across the eastern horizon, a lone jet approached from the east. Gunnery Sergeant Tufo stepped out into the brisk morning air, his eyes adjusting to the brightening sky, his ears picking up the sound of the jet’s engines before his eyes picked it up as it descended. The control tower had called and notified him that the cargo jet was coming in bringing supplies and a lone squad member who had been hopping military jets all the way from Italy.
Mark knew that Colonel Mitchell had nearly pulled an all-nighter, as had Laura Youngblood so he took it upon himself to greet the young soldier who had risked everything to save his family, and thereby, got himself into a pile of trouble that could have only been one step up from Hell itself. Mark and another crew were leaving this morning to go back to Tinker to pick up a few things left behind anyway, but this call made it worth getting around a bit earlier than he had planned. He had contacted the duty chief and had a crew standing by to offload the cargo plane and an electric golf cart ready to take Dom to the infirmary for a quick check over. He was sure that Dominic would fight him over the medical check, but rules were rules. Besides, Matt had already told him that once Dom got back, that was the first thing on the list.
Mark waited anxiously for the plane to land and taxi to a stop near the hangar he stood by. As the rear cargo doors opened, Dom practically clawed his way out of the plane and bounded out to the tarmac. Mark smiled as he saw the oversized Italian again and shook his head.
He raised his hand and yelled to him, “Dom!”
Dominic turned and saw Tufo standing by the edge of the tarmac and his head instantly tilted, the confusion evident across his face. “I remember you,” he said absently.
“Gunnery Sergeant Mark Tufo. You saved my family in Ohio.” Mark approached him and stuck his hand out. Dom took it and shook his hand, the confusion still evident in his face. “We have a lot to discuss, so if you’ll follow me?” Mark led Dom to the golf cart.
“I really need to talk to the colonel.” The anxiety in his voice was loud and clear.
“I know, but he made it clear what we need to do first, Dom.” Mark motioned toward the cart.
“Why are you here, Tufo? I mean, I understand you’re grateful and all, but you shouldn’t be here…”
“I’ll explain everything if you’ll just follow me.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you, Gunnery Sergeant, unless it’s to see the colonel.” He appeared adamant and crossed his arms across his massive chest as if to punctuate his statement.
Mark stopped and shook his head. “Don’t make me write you up, Mr. DeGiacomo.”
Dom snorted derisively. “You can’t do shit, Gunny. You ain’t even in the Corps no more. You’re just a spotter for the squads.”
Mark raised an eyebrow and shot Dom a hard look. “For your information, I’m your new Executive Officer. Now get your oversized ass in that golf cart before I kick it up between your shoulder blades,” Mark said quietly but forcefully.
Dom’s jaw went slack and he stared at Tufo. “Are you shitting me? What happened to Laura? I mean…Ms. Youngblood? Is she okay? Did she get hurt? Is she—”
“Get in the fucking golf cart, soldier! NOW!” Mark used his best drill instructor voice.
Dom jumped and double timed it to the golf cart. The springs actually groaned and the cart leaned as he stuffed himself into it. Mark got in behind the wheel and started across the campus for the infirmary. “Now, to catch you up on what’s happened since you’ve been out…”
He told Dom about how he forced his way back into the teams and how Laura had been expressing interest in leaving. He explained that Jack came up with the idea of him taking her place and Mitchell begrudgingly went with it. He went on to explain that the team knew about the upcoming attack from the Sicarii thanks to Jack’s contacts and they also had recruited the greater elves to fight. He explained that Jack’s grandfather in law was some big-wig werewolf and had the power to call all the wolves to him and recruit them to fight on their side. He did the best he could at giving Dom the ‘big picture’ over view as he could and the two sat outside the infirmary and talked while the sun continued to rise. All around them, the base slowly came to life and people assumed their daily duties as Dominic and Mark sat in the golf cart and got Dominic caught up as quickly as they could.
Once Mark felt that Dom was sufficiently informed, and Dom stopped asking questions, he escorted him into the clinic for a quick checkup. Of course, Dom balked, but he explained that Mitchell was dead serious about the check up and he wanted to make sure that Dom was caught up on his ‘medicine’. The full moon was coming up soon and he didn’t want to have to worry about any of his squad members shifting unexpectedly.
Dom grumbled, but complied. He got checked out as quickly as he could and Mark was waiting to escort him to Mitchell’s office. As he stepped out of the infirmary, he shook Mark’s hand. “Thanks for waiting for me. I’d never find where I was needing to go here.”
“No problem, buddy. It was the least I could do after what you did for me and my family.”
“So…hey…I was wondering something. Until Laura actually leaves, what do I call you? I mean, you aren’t officially the XO yet, and…I mean, well, what’s proper?”
“You can call me Mark, you can call me Gunny, or Tufo, or Asshole…or whatever you feel like. Just don’t call me late for supper.”
“Yeah, right. Somehow calling you asshole seems like a good way to get my butt handed to me.”
“Naw. My bark’s worse than my bite,” Mark admitted. “I’m not augmented like you fellas are.”
Dom shot him a puzzled look. “I thought you said you used to be with the teams?”
“That was before they came up with the augmentation.”
Dom nodded. “Wait…and you came back and still hung with First Squad? With Jack?”
“Yeah, why?”
Dom clapped him on the back. “Augmented or not. That’s doing something, buddy.”
“If you say so.”
“I do,” Dom replied. “You don’t get it, do you?” Tufo shook his head. “Dude, First Squad of Team Four? That’s like the elite of the ELITE. It don’t get any better than that. Why do you think they made Jack the team leader?”
“I figured it was because he was so damned ugly,” Mark joked.
“Yeah. Ugly is one way to put how he fights.” Dom raised a brow. “If you hung with them, you’re more than okay in my book.”
Mark stopped the cart in front of the Headquarters Building. “Mitchell’s office is in there. On your right. You can’t miss it.”
Dom looked up the stairs at the building. “Thanks, Mark. I really appreciate you catching me up on shit.”
“It was the least I could do.” He nodded. “Listen, we’re about to go back to Tinker and sift through a bunch of shit we left. Anything there you need?”
Dom feigned thinking hard. “Umm, everything?”
Mark chuckled and patted his shoulder. “This isn’t our last trip back, just a quickie trip to get some stuff we could use. Tell you what, make me a list of things you know you’ll need and get it to me within the next couple of hours and I’ll be sure we get it for you, okay?”
“Thanks, brother.”
“Just have Matt or Laura shoot it to my PDA.” Mark gave a mock salute as he pulled away.
Dom watched him scoot off in the little golf cart and shook his head. His eyes scanned the new base with its barren, industrial appearance and he sighed. He had only been here a short while and already he missed seeing grass. He missed the smells of Tinker, the jet fuel, the unmistakable smell of cattle and oil and people. He missed the whiffs of the Burger King that th
e wind would waft toward their little hangar when the wind was from the north. With a shrug of his shoulders and less spring in his step he climbed up to the front of the building and entered.
He worked his way to Colonel Mitchell’s office and knocked.
“Enter,” Matt barked. Dom smiled to himself upon hearing that familiar voice.
“What’s a guy got to do to get a welcome home drink around here?”
Matt looked up from his desk and smiled. “About damned time you got here, soldier. I thought I was going to have to report you AWOL.” He got up and embraced him. “How you doing, Dom?” He looked him in the eye, searching for signs of a shattered person. “You didn’t sound well on the phone.”
“When we talked, I wasn’t doing well at all,” Dom admitted quietly. “Fucker got in my head, sir.”
Mitchell studied him intently. “And now?”
“Now?” Dom smiled. “Now I’ve turned the tables on him, sir. He shot my head full of…well, everything.” Matt gave him a quizzical look. “He injected me with his memories. I mean all of them. I know who he is, where he came from, what he’s done…everything.” Dom tapped the side of his head.
“Oh, my God…”
“Yeah, it was hell,” Dom reflected. “I thought I was going to lose it. But during the time in the hospital, I went on a journey.”
Matt sat down and motioned for Dom to join him. “A journey? You mean when you worked your way to Aviano?”
“No sir.” Dom wasn’t quite sure how to explain what he meant. “I mean…a journey in my head. While I was in the coma. I know I can’t explain it to where you’d understand, but it helped me figure out something that the bloodsucker stuck in there that I don’t think he meant to.”
Matt shook his head. “What are you saying?”
“When he put his memories in my head, he put them all in there, Colonel. Even some I don’t think he meant for me to have.” Dom leaned forward, trying to emphasize the importance of what he was saying. “I don’t know if he wasn’t thinking, or if he didn’t think I could figure it out, or pick them out of the mess or if he didn’t think it would really matter, or…what?”
“Okay.” Matt waved him on. “So what did you find?”
“The dirt!” Dom said excitedly.
Matt’s face went blank. “What dirt?”
“When I escaped from them, I took a van. In the van was a long crate. Like a coffin, but…not really. And in that box was dirt! But not just any dirt, sir. It was dirt from his homeland.”
Matt shook his head. “I’m still not following you, son.”
“Colonel! He has to have that dirt with him! He can’t be away from it. I don’t know why he has to, but he does. He can’t sleep without it. He can’t be far from it or it weakens him…a LOT.” Dom said excitedly.
“Come again?” Matt’s eyes were squinted as he tried to comprehend. “How does this dirt help us? I mean, he could just scatter a little wherever he went, couldn’t he?”
“No, sir. I don’t think he can. He has to have it. He sleeps on it, he needs it to be close to him and I haven’t figured out the why just yet, I just know that he does.”
Matt nodded. “Okay.”
“Okay?” Dom asked. “That’s it? Just okay? Sir, this could be the key to stopping him. If we figure out where he’s hiding his dirt when he comes here, and then destroy it, then we could…”
“Son, we need more information.” Matt held his hands up. “We don’t want to go off applying resources to something that may or may not be a viable avenue of attack without more background information.”
“But, Colonel, I’m positive that—”
“I’m sure that you are.” Matt stopped him. “But first, we don’t know why he needs the dirt. Second, we don’t know where he may be hiding it. Thirdly, we don’t know the proper way to dispose of it. Fourthly, do we need to destroy it or can we simply taint it with something like silver or iron or—”
“Okay.” Dom cut him off. “I get your point, sir.” Matt could tell he had knocked the wind from his sails.
“Look, I’m not discounting what you’ve brought us. We’re definitely going to look into this. And we have a couple of vampires right here on the base who might can help us out with this little problem.”
Dom looked up from the floor. “You mean Evan, sir? He’s never used any kind of dirt before that I’m aware of.”
“He’s not the only vampire that’s helping us these days,” Matt informed him.
10
Later that afternoon as Second Squad finished securing the last of the gear from their old haunt at Tinker, the guards maintaining the hangar changed and Tufo was approached by their squad commander. “Gunny, we have an issue that you might need to bring up with Colonel Mitchell.”
Tufo looked up from the manifest he was operating from, “I’m all ears, Master Sergeant.”
“Immediately after the squads left, my men reported that someone from Tinker Actual came and stated that the hangar was going to be absorbed back into the base’s assets,” he explained. “I wasn’t on duty at the time, but they contacted me and I informed them that the last word we had from the colonel was that the squads were returning. The base rep said that they got it from the Pentagon that you weren’t.”
Mark nodded. “Well, the rumor may well be true, Sarge. We probably will be relocating to the desert, but even if we do, they can’t just come in and change the locks on the doors. This is our house, got it?”
The Master Sergeant snapped to attention and rendered a salute. “Understood, sir.”
Mark shook his head. “I’m not officially the XO yet, so don’t go calling me sir. I still work for a living.” He chuckled. “But let them know if they try that shit again that Mitchell is still the CO of this operation and until we come in and finish cleaning out our goods, they are to turn-to, heave-ho and whatever else they need to do to stay the fuck out of here.”
“Roger that, sir…er, Gunny.” He turned serious again. “And if they try to force their hand?”
“Have them contact Mitchell personally and report it to us,” Tufo ordered. “Until then, keep the doors locked and nobody is allowed access unless they’re MS personnel.”
“Roger that.”
“If all goes well, we’ll be back in a week or so and finish cleaning out everything. We’ll gather you boys up to go with us and we can play in the sandbox with the rest of the cat turds.”
“Looking forward to it, sir.”
Tufo shot him a warning glare, but the guard simply smiled. Mark shook his head and turned back to the crews and Second Squad loading the truck. “Everything ready?”
Apollo gave him a nod and a thumbs-up as he jumped into the waiting Hummer.
“See you in a couple weeks, Master Sergeant.” Tufo turned and headed to the Hummer.
“Good hunting, sir.”
*****
Barbara Mueller had been hiding at her grandfather’s cabin in the woods for days. She slept little and her nerves were shot. She stayed up all night, patrolling around the perimeter of the small cabin in the middle of nowhere while her son Bobby slept safe within. While she patrolled, she kept her pistol in her hands, always loaded with silver ammunition, a round chambered and ready to fire.
By day, she would try to catch small catnaps as time would allow. During those short times that she was awake during the day she would allow Bobby out of the cabin to get some fresh air, to run in the woods, throw rocks and climb trees; to be a little boy. Bobby tried not to complain because he knew that they were in hiding, but when you’re young and bored, it was tough.
The nights were cold and Barbara dared not light a fire for fear that someone may follow the smoke to the cabin. She waited until deep in the night before daring to light the old woodstove and by then, it barely took the edge of the biting cold. When the sun rose in the morning she would smother the fire and waken Bobby as the first rays of light hit the windows, ready to run at a moment’s notice.
Only once did she dare go into town since they had reached the cabin; when food and fresh water and necessities like toilet paper had bottomed out. She tried her best to conceal her identity, but having grown up in the area and having spent so many summers there with her grandfather, many of the local merchants knew her, even if they didn’t say anything to her. It was no surprise to them when the two strangers with short hair and polished suits showed up in town asking if she had been seen in the area lately. Flashing phony IDs that said Department of Defense and claiming that they really needed to find her, most locals feared the worst, that something horrible had happened to her husband Robert and gladly told the two strangers that they had indeed seen her in the area. Since a search of the local hotels turned up nothing as they expected, they felt fairly certain that she must be staying at her grandfather’s cabin. They weren’t certain where it was, and neither did many of the town’s residents. All they knew was that it was deep in the woods, somewhere in the mountains.
Tax records indicated that her grandfather had owned a lot of land in the area, and searching it all would take a lot of manpower. But at least they had the general area. They knew that she was here. They only had to sniff her out.
The two strangers made some strategic phone calls and notified a crew of familiars to come into the area and assist with the search. They only had a few days before the Sicarii’s forces hit the mainland, and they wanted good news to report.
*****
The convoy of tractor trailers made their way along the dusty highways until reaching the outer gates of Groom Lake. The drivers, familiars of Paul Foster, called ahead to Rufus Thorn to notify him of their arrival. Wackenhut Security Officers waited at the front gates for the black semis to arrive and as they approached the gates, the officers opened them and waved the trucks through, counting as they drove through the outer gates and into the base property. Another set of gates waited with another set of guards standing by to wave them through. As the trucks approached the base proper, Major Flemings and Third Squad stood by to escort the trucks along the bumpy terrain that used to be a road to the huge underground area that once was used as a warehouse.
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