by Lynn Red
"She really is in my dreams, then?" Jackson asked, his eyes going to his hands.
"Yes. Another perk of Fated Ones."
"Any other 'perks' I should know about?" Jackson looked up at Arthur.
"You can find her anywhere she goes. Same as she can find you. Even if she's not a wolf. You'll start finding you think alike, and that you preferences are her preferences and vice-versa. You are two halves a whole and you need the other to feel complete." Arthur smiled softly.
"Do you have one? A Fated One?"
Arthur's face fell into a horrible sadness. "I did. She died."
"I'm sorry," Jackson said. Arthur shook himself, as though trying to free himself from his despair.
"Me too." Arthur held Jackson's eyes. "Are you going to tell her?"
Jackson thought for a moment. He didn't want to keep anything from Chloe, but he was afraid of what she might think of him if he told her. She was a gentle soul, kind and compassionate. What would she think of him if she knew the horror and destruction he had wrought?
"I don't know," Jackson answered honestly. Arthur nodded slowly.
"Do what you think is right. She will know everything about you eventually, and I guarantee should would rather find out from you than on her own." Arthur returned to facing forward. The car was quiet again.
Jackson's mind buzzed with thoughts. He wasn't sure how he was going to tell Chloe what he had done, but that was pushed to the back of his brain. One thought kept bubbling to the surface and made it hard to concentrate on anything else. He wasn't going to hurt Chloe. He could be with her. And that was what he wanted more than anything else in the world.
Chapter 30
Jackson walked casually onto the base after being dropped off a quarter mile down the road. He showed the gate guard his ID and began walking toward the parking lot with his truck. The snow was almost melted and dead yellow grass lay in strange patterns as he walked across the field to his truck.
As he came closer to the building, he could see yellow tape blocking off the main entrance, and numerous Military Police vehicles parked along the edge of the building. The smell of acrid electrical smoke and water hung heavy in the air. It made Jackson's nose itch. A guard stood at the corner of the building, waving away anyone coming toward the medical center. Jackson could hear him tell a group of soldiers that the medics were now located in the chapel for the time being.
Jackson sauntered over to the guard. The guard gave him a polite nod, noting the rank on Jackson's uniform as he straightened. He rendered a quick salute.
Jackson returned the salute lazily, as if telling him that it was no big deal. "What's going on over there, Specialist?" Jackson asked, giving the man his most friendly smile. The Specialist relaxed as he saw the Captain wasn't going to pull rank on him.
"Well, sir, there was an accident last night."
"What kind of accident? It smells terrible!" Jackson leaned against a nearby tree. "You've got a rough job today," Jackson said. The soldier smiled, warming up to him.
"There was an electrical fire. The experiment in the lab it was in was ruined," the soldier said.
Jackson nodded. "Anything to do with the Colonel's death? I heard a rumor he was there."
The soldier nodded, his body language relaxing the longer Jackson spoke with him. This was how Jackson got a lot of his intelligence; just being friendly.
"Rumor is the Colonel started it," the soldier replied, leaning in conspiratorially. "They say he wasn't pleased with how the experiment was going and blew a gasket."
Jackson nodded. "After meeting the Colonel, I wouldn't doubt it. He wasn't exactly polite the last time I had to work with him."
"I hate to speak ill of the dead, sir, but I have to agree with you." The soldier glanced around and then whispered to Jackson, "Rumor is if he had survived, he'd be looking at a court-martial for some of the things he authorized."
"Wow, at least now I know why I didn't have a good feeling about him. Did anyone else get hurt?" Jackson asked.
"Yeah, the scientist who was working the lab. Just some burns. He's with the MPs now if you need to talk to him," the soldier offered up helpfully.
Jackson shook his head. "It's my day off and I'm just here to get my car today. You know how the Army is, though. I have a feeling I'll get called in tomorrow to help sort this mess out."
"Good day to be off. Hope you get the rest of it off," the Specialist replied, waving his hand to indicate the weather.
"Yeah, it is. Don't get sunburned," Jackson joked as he turned to walk toward his car. So far, things seemed to be going the way they should, but he still wanted to do some checking before heading back to tell Chloe it was safe.
Jackson's truck rumbled to life, and he drove it to the front of the little building he used as his office. The guard that had been stationed there was gone, and Jackson was glad he didn't have to show ID just to get into his office anymore. Things were already changing with the Colonel gone.
The door to Jackson's office swung open easily and he did his usual checks to see if anyone had been inside. No one had. He pulled out his computer, waiting at the boot screen so he could dig up files and make sure Herbert was sticking to his story.
Jackson's eyes fell on the picture of his unit. He stood, picking it up and cradling it in his hands. He missed them. He would have given his right arm to have them back, but he knew that wasn't an option. Their eyes stared out at him from the frame, and he knew he had to tell Chloe. Even if she hated him for it, he had to tell her.
The computer beeped and he set the picture down, pulling up his search boxes and quickly querying the system. Several reports had already been filed, and Jackson checked them one by one. Each one said the same thing. The Colonel had been angry at the lack of progress on his pet project and had taken the drug himself. It reacted badly and he had knocked over the tanks, thus starting the electrical fire. The test subjects Dr. Hulsey had been using hadn't even been in the lab that night, according to the doctor. So far, it appeared as though Herbert was sticking to the story and that they were believing it.
Jackson searched through the reports for another thirty minutes, but no new information came up. He checked on the status of the men who had attacked them earlier, but with Colonel Bronn gone, there was no reason for them to keep searching for Chloe. It appeared as though they were all going to get out of this without too much trouble, but he was going to have to keep an eye on the situation. Jackson didn't want any surprises coming up that could put Chloe in danger.
Jackson closed the lid to his laptop. He wasn't quite sure how he was going to explain Blake, Joel, and Evan's disappearance from the base, but since they were never officially on-base to begin with, he wasn't too worried. If what the Specialist had said about Bronn's authorizations being questioned, the fake orders to Afghanistan would pop up soon enough. Maybe even his connection with the men who attacked Chloe would come to light. A guy could dream.
With a creak of the chair, Jackson stood and stretched before putting the laptop in a protective case. He thought about stopping for flowers, but changed his mind, instead simply heading out to his truck and tucking the laptop under the passenger seat. A smile crossed his face as he started the engine, ready to go back up to the camp. He was going to see Chloe.
Chapter 31
Chloe sat by the window overlooking the courtyard wrapped in a big quilt she had found on one of the beds. She had let the fire go out in the cabin but the warm sunshine coming in through the windows was keeping her toasty and comfortable. She had genetics books spread out on the table in front of her, but she was having a hard time concentrating. She kept glancing out the window at every sound, hoping it was Jackson coming back.
A knock on the door startled her. "It's open!" she called as she attempted to untangle herself from the blanket.
"Hey, Chloe," Blake said, opening the door and kicking the snow off his boots before stepping inside. She beamed up at him, finally escaping the clutches of the quilt.
>
Blake wrapped her up in a big bear hug, popping her back in the process. She still couldn't believe how strong he was. Or that he was a good three inches taller than when she had last seen him. He had changed quite a bit, but his green eyes were still the same. She knew that even though he was different, he was still her little brother at heart.
"How are you doing? I haven't seen you since last night, and it's way past noon now," she said, as he set her down from his hug.
He grinned. "Just woke up. That wolf stuff is exhausting. I've never run so far so fast... I'm feeling it now, but last night was awesome."
Chloe shook her head at him, going back to her chair and wrapping up in the blanket.
"You want me to restart the fire?" Blake asked, watching her cuddle into the blanket. She nodded and he laughed, going to the small fireplace. He picked out several small pieces of kindling from the woodpile by the door and started building a wood base.
"You always were better at the outdoorsy stuff than me," Chloe commented as he quickly got a small fire dancing. He added more wood and kept coaxing the flames.
"You know we're inside right?" he teased. He looked over at her, his eyes soft. "Chloe, I need to thank you. From what I've been told, I'd be a real monster if you hadn't saved me. Thank you for not giving up on me."
"You know I've never been good at leaving you alone," Chloe said with a smile. "Just, no signing up for weird experiments again, okay?"
Blake laughed, leaning back on the balls of his feet as the fire caught on the bigger logs Blake fed into the fireplace. "Arthur says I can't tell mom, so I'm glad I've got you. We always were good at secrets." He grinned at her. "Can you imagine what she would say if I did?"
Chloe put on her sternest face, frowning and pulling her brows together. "Blake Madison, if you pee on the houseplants again, I will make you sleep in the doghouse!"
Blake laughed, balancing himself with his hand on the stones of the fireplace. "You do a spooky imitation of Mom. I remember her saying that!"
"You were in so much trouble. I couldn't believe you had actually done it," Chloe snickered. The room already felt warmer with the fire going. Blake opened his mouth to say something, but instead cocked his head to the side for a moment. "What is it, Blake?"
"Someone's coming up the road. Truck if I had to guess." His eyes grew distant as he listened to a sound Chloe couldn't hear.
"It must be Jackson." Chloe felt her heartbeat speed up. Even though she had seen him only a few hours before, she couldn't wait to have him back with her.
"Hey, sis," Blake said, standing from the fire and sitting down in the chair next to her. "I know there's something between the two of you. I'm okay with it, after last night, I actually really like the guy, but be careful, okay?"
Chloe smiled. She could hear the truck now. "Thanks, Blake."
"Just looking out for my big sister." He grinned at her and looked out the window. "You've got a visitor," he said in a teasing, sing-song voice.
She smacked him on the shoulder and he laughed. Chloe heard the truck stop and the door open. He was walking toward her cabin and it made her heart soar. Blake leaned forward and gave her a hug, wrinkling his nose as he pulled back.
"I can smell the happy hormones all over you." Blake made a disgusted gagging noise and Chloe smacked him again. He winked and stood up. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."
Chloe rolled her eyes and sighed. Blake opened the door to reveal Jackson raising his hand about to knock.
"Good to see you, sir," Blake said, stepping out on the porch and taking Jackson's hand in a friendly handshake. If Jackson was surprised, he didn't show it.
"Good to see you too," Jackson answered back amicably. His eyes were on Chloe rather than her brother though. "Chloe, I need to talk to you."
"Sure, come on in," Chloe told him, opening the door a little wider to let him in.
"Oh, Captain Wolfe?" Blake blocked Jackson's progress inside. "I just want you to know, you better take good care of her. You hurt her, and I'll-"
"Have to kill me," Jackson finished for him. "I know. Between you and Quent, I'm a dead man."
"That's if they get to you before I do," Chloe said. She flashed a grin at the two men. "I know how to do stuff, too."
Blake laughed, stepping to the side to let Jackson pass. Blake chuckled to himself as he walked into the woods, looking for his friends. Jackson closed the door behind him.
Chloe was out of her quilt and on her feet before the door finished clicking shut, reaching to kiss him as he turned. His lips were soft and his face rough with stubble. It wasn't so short that it was like sandpaper, but more a gentle prickle that contrasted with the sweetness of his kiss in the most delectable way.
"Chloe, I need to talk to you," he repeated, pulling reluctantly out of her kiss. His face was troubled and his eyes were dark. She smiled gently and sat down at the table.
"Sure. You can tell me anything."
Jackson moved slowly to the chair Blake had been sitting in earlier. He didn't want to tell her. It was the last thing he wanted to do, but he needed her to know. She needed to know his story before she became a part of it.
"I have nightmares," he began. He stopped and took a deep breath. Her green eyes sparkled encouragement at him. He had to tell her. "The first time I changed, I did something terrible. I killed people. They deserved it, but... "
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," she said, feeling his anxiety. He shook his head.
"No, I need you to know what I did. If you hate me for it, I'll understand, but you should know the kind of man you're getting into bed with. So to speak."
"Okay. Tell me." She put her hands in her lap, her eyes focused only on him. She gave him a moment to collect his thoughts. Whatever it was he needed to tell her, she knew it wasn't something he was proud of. She didn't care, though.
Jackson took a deep breath and began to tell his story.
Chapter 32
One year earlier: Kandahar, Afghanistan
"He hasn't spoken to anyone yet, sir," the armed guard outside the tent said.
"Good," Captain Wolfe replied. He chambered a round in his own pistol just in case things got crazy in there. "Is the video equipment set up?"
"Yes, sir. The doctor said it was a pain in the ass to work around, but he knows the difference between a request and an order."
Wolfe nodded. He pulled the flap back from the tent and took a quick look inside before pushing the flap back into place. He had recognized the doctor, his enlisted nurse, and the man handcuffed to the bed was obviously the prisoner, but...
"Who's the fourth guy?" Wolfe asked.
"He's the guy who brought him in. An Afghan National Army officer named Actor, I think?"
Wolfe nodded. "Akhtar." He had heard that Akhtar had helped Americans in the past, one of the only ethnically Pashto officers in the region.
Wolfe pulled out his notepad and began to walk into the tent. The younger soldier stopped him. "Will you need a translator?"
Wolfe smiled. "My Pashto isn't quite as good as my Dari, but I think I'll manage."
He entered the medical tent. It was always cool in the medical tent, and even when the base was on low supplies, the medical tent's air conditioner was kept running. It smelled of alcohol, but Wolfe knew that there was no hooch being brewed in a bathtub still here.
Wolfe turned to the man in camo by the wall of the tent. He crossed to him quickly, his hand outstretched.
"Al saleem aleykum." (Hello.) Wolfe fell into the language easily, even though he spoke at a first grade level. "(My name is Wolfe. Thank you for bringing this guy in.)"
A toothy smile crossed the man's face. "(I am Akhtar. Anything for our American friends.)"
Wolfe smelled a hint of nervousness about him, even over the smell of his unwashed uniform and body. However, nervousness wasn't all that uncommon among even the most loyal of American allies. It wasn't something that Wolfe was proud of, but many of the native Afghanis had plen
ty of reasons to fear all Americans.
Wolfe turned to the man in the bed. He had taken a bullet to the upper shin, just below the knee. The doctor had stabilized him, and he wouldn't lose the leg, but the doctor also had insinuated that if he didn't get to a real hospital soon, he would need to get it amputated. Wolfe thought such threats were distasteful, but in war, they were useful. The fear dripping off him filled the entire tent.
Wolfe strolled up to him. The enemy combatant had been involved in an ambush, at a place where nobody should have known Americans were. Two young men had lost their lives, and an entire mission had to be scrapped while the area calmed down.
Wolfe didn't waste any time. "(Who are you with?)"
The man stayed silent.
"(Are you with the Taliban?)" The man smiled. "(Yes? Okay, who is your commanding officer?)"
The man laughed. No answer was going to come easily from him. His dark eyes were defiant, but Wolfe knew that he was scared. He could smell it.
("How did you know that the Americans would be in that valley?") When the man again went silent, Wolfe continued. "(You'll tell me if you want to keep that leg.)"
The man frowned. His eyes darted around the room, but then he looked up at Wolfe with hatred in his eyes. He spit and then hurled a long string of words that Wolfe only caught bits and pieces of. "Infidel" and "Stupid American" were words he understood, though.
Wolfe rolled his eyes. He reached in and grabbed the man's leg, below the spot where he was shot but firm enough that every movement sent shocks of pain through the man's nervous system. The man yelled, then panted with desperation. He was a lot quieter.
"(Good. Let me ask again. Who told you that the Americans would be in that valley?)" Wolfe asked.
A tear escaped from his squinted shut eyes, and suddenly, he opened them. He looked at Akhtar. Quickly, Wolfe looked over at him, too, just in time to see him shake his head just a little bit. Akhtar's eyes flicked from the wounded combatant to Wolfe, realizing that he had just seen him pass a signal. Immediately, he began to sweat fear.
