by Alisa Woods
Jaxson and Jared looked at him, expectantly. “Which we do not,” Jace reminded them. He turned to Daniel. “I think we need to bring Piper into this. She might have more intel to share than she was willing to give up last night under, er, less than desirable circumstances. Why don’t you go fetch her? She’s in the last bedroom on the left, end of the hall, upstairs.”
Daniel looked like Jace had just asked him to dip his fingers into the latrine. But he turned and jogged off toward the stairs.
Jace waited until he was out of earshot. “Daniel and Piper… have issues,” he explained to Jace, Jared, and Olivia. “Last night they had a hell of a fight. Some kind of thing with the dad, the Colonel at the Joint Base. Piper wanted Daniel to use his clearance to get into their systems and poke around, looking for Noah. Daniel was having none of that. But it might not be a bad idea.”
“I don’t know,” Jared said, a skeptical look on his face. “We don’t know how far this thing reaches.”
“True.” Daniel crossed his arms tight over his chest. “Maybe Daniel can look around but keep it quiet. Meanwhile, we’ll do our research on the outside. If Noah’s truly disappeared, it has to be connected to this Agent Smith. If we can get a clue as to where he’s hiding, that has to help. And if Daniel’s careful, he won’t violate any classified material protocols and shouldn’t raise too many alarm bells.” Jace glanced at Olivia. “And maybe we can get a little magical help from our favorite witchy office assistant.”
Olivia grinned. “Aunt Gwen’s dying to help me learn some spells. I think a seeking spell might be first on the list.”
Jared seemed dubious about that, too, but Jaxson had a small smirk on his face.
“Either way,” Jace said, “we need to get on this. If we work together, cover multiple fronts at once, we should make the fastest progress. We already know Agent Smith was experimenting on the prisoners he had before. If he’s taking military shifters now—” The sound of bare feet pounding down the stairs cut him off.
Daniel came flying back into the kitchen. “Piper is gone.” He rushed the words all out at once.
Fuck. Jace hung his head down, shaking it slightly. “Man, I should’ve known. No way was she settled last night. Dammit.” Just like a Wilding to run off half-cocked, doing God-knew-what. Probably the craziest thing possible. From what little he knew of Piper, it was probably the most dangerous thing possible. Somehow that roused his wolf up from the depths almost as much as her curvy little behind in the moonlight. He growled back at his wolf, shoving him down again, then whipped his head up to look at Daniel. “I don’t suppose you have any idea where she’s run off to?”
His scowled, the muscles in his jaw working overtime. “I know exactly where she’s gone.”
Getting onto the Joint Base wouldn’t be that difficult, now that Piper had swiped her brother’s identification and base pass. She’d used his ID to create a slightly-modified duplicate, putting some of her counterintelligence skills to good use, but the security just wasn’t that tight at the Joint Base to begin with. At least, not at the front gate, where she sat in a line of cars idling in the early morning wait to get waved through.
The sun was just starting to rise over the mountains in the east. The small guard shack sat under a long corrugated metal roof stretching over the three lanes that marked the entrance. She’d retrieved her car—the one she used when she was in Seattle—to drive to the base rather than take a cab, like she’d used to return from River brothers’ safehouse in the mountains, a good hour away. She imagined Jace was looking for her about now, and she couldn’t help wondering what his reaction would be when he discovered she took off. Royally pissed, probably. Her wolf had been whining ever since she left, but she doubted Jace’s first reaction would be regret that they hadn’t ravished each other before she disappeared. Piper rolled her eyes at her wolf’s pathetic whimper about that.
The Joint Base was south of Tacoma, a sprawling enterprise of on-base housing, training grounds, workout facilities, and all manner of Army and Air Force operations. The building she was most interested in was near the center of the several mile wide complex—the command center. She hoped Daniel’s key card would gain her access to the red-bricked and stoic-looking building… as well as a secure terminal to search for clues as to Noah’s location.
Of course, hacking into the Army’s database was highly illegal, but she was doing it for a good cause—and it was something the Army itself should be doing for her brother, if they cared at all about their shifter soldiers. He was just another grunt to them, but he was everything to her. And she worried that his shifter abilities had maybe caught too much interest from them. As she well knew, the Army put their soldiers to maximum use, deploying all their assets. Her secret hope was that they’d simply recruited him into some dark program where he was using his shifter abilities to fight the bad guys. She’d even be proud of that.
But she knew her little brother—he would have bragged about that to her. Endlessly.
Piper edged forward in the car line, sandwiched between two rows of pointed orange cones half the size of her vehicle. The guards quickly waved through the people ahead of her, but when she reached the front, the middle-aged one in charge asked for her ID with a short wave of his fingers. She gave it over with a bright smile that she hoped would convince him she had the IQ of a fluffy bunny and posed just as much of a security risk… and couldn’t possibly be civilian counterintelligence trying to hack their secure databases. This wasn’t her first time convincing people she was something she wasn’t, but she couldn’t go too far with the dumb girl act. The Joint Base got a lot of civilian traffic, spouses and significant others of soldiers traveling on and off base, but her ID said she had top-level security and thus access to the more secure buildings on the grounds.
The guard took too long to scrutinize her ID. “State your name,” he said without looking up. His gruff voice sounded like he’d already been up half the night.
“Daniela Wuldinger. On reassignment from the Senator’s office. Temporary.”
The guard lifted one eyebrow, still examining her ID. For far too long.
A nervous sweat broke out between her shoulder blades, but she kept the smile at full force.
Then he gave her a short nod. “Just a moment, please.”
His hard-soled shoes scuffed the pavement of the street, then the concrete of the guard shack floor as he stepped inside to consult with his computer and a fellow guardsman. They were both wearing the desert camouflage that was standard for active-duty personnel on base, as well as a bright yellow reflective vest, presumably for the traffic.
Piper waited, forcing the smile to remain on her face… as if she had no concerns whatsoever that her completely falsified identification would be discovered. She truly was connected to the Senator’s office, as a consultant to the defense subcommittee—but her altered ID was a hodge-podge of hers and Daniel’s real clearances mixed with a falsified name. She’d conjured worse IDs in much more hostile territories in her operations around the world, but security in the US was actually competent most of the time. Which made it a higher bar she had to hurdle. And this false ID was a slap-dash effort at 4 am in her apartment, not going through her normal chain of command… not least because it would never have been approved.
There was far too much discussion going on in the shack.
When the original guard finally returned to her car, he said, “Welcome to Lewis-McChord, Ms. Wuldinger.” He handed her ID back to her.
She did an impressive job of not letting the sigh of relief show.
He leaned in with one hand on top of her car, gave her an appreciative look, and smirked. “You might want to stop by the Soldiers Field House during your stay, Ms. Wuldinger. We’re having a Combatives Tournament today. I’m afraid civilians can’t compete, but Senator Krepky might want a personal report on the fine fighting form of our active-duty personnel.”
She returned his flirtatious grin. “A bunch of sweaty grunts, musc
led up and testing their hand-to-hand combat skills? Wouldn’t miss that for the world. Thank you, Corporal.” She mock-saluted him.
He just stepped back, grinned, and waved her through.
Piper had only been on base at Lewis-McChord once before, but the directions around the sprawling military city were fairly straightforward, and she’d mapped out her route anyway. She sailed right past the red-bricked, colonial-style Headquarters with the large brass cannon on the front lawn and headed for the command center, which had the high-security access she needed. It was just a short drive along the nearly-empty early-morning streets, near the center of the base.
Unlike the traditional architecture of Headquarters, the command center was a modern architectural beauty. The designers had mixed traditional red brick with native white granite and thousands of square feet of glass. The 66th Theater Aviation Command (TAC) Readiness Center was the largest and newest command center for the Washington Army National Guard, according to their website. Piper had seen the pictures before, but the building itself was undeniably gorgeous—three stories of soaring glass and steel that let in tons of natural light. She had no doubt her father strutted through the doors like a peacock every morning. But the building was large enough—and she was early enough—that the chances of crossing paths with him should be infinitesimally small.
She hoped.
Two guards with semiautomatic M-16 rifles stood at the entrance, but they were primarily an honor guard, and their brusque looks didn’t concern her. Either her ID would pass, or it wouldn’t. She swiped it past the detector, the light came up green, and she cruised inside. The two-story entrance had more of the white stone flooring, which was tinged a pale rose by the early-morning sun.
She strode confidently past the reception desk toward the offices on the main floor.
Piper had a lot of experience acting like she knew exactly what she was doing even when she had absolutely no clue. Pretending she was precisely where she belonged was an art. With the right amount of confidence and charm, she’d proven time and again that she could convince almost anyone of anything. It was a kind of game, this mask she put on for the world, not so much a deception—at least for the good guys. The bad guys, she was happy to screw all day long. Not in the literal sense. The only men she allowed in her bed were the ones who had some decency. It was often a fine line, especially in the field, but she had a well-tuned antenna. Knowing the difference between the good guys and the bad could mean walking away or ending up in pieces. That wasn’t an exaggeration, even for a rapid-healing shifter like her. And the genuinely good guys were rare, so when she found one, her antenna pinged hard.
Like with Jace River. She pushed that unwelcome thought aside. She’d blown her chance with him by bailing and coming here… and she didn’t plan to stick around Seattle long enough to have another.
As she wound through the cubicle-land of the command center analysts, Piper held her head high, met the curious stares with a smile, and occasionally gave someone a friendly wave. Anyone at their desk at 6 AM was either working the early morning shift or had been there all night. As civilian counterintelligence for the Army, her time in Washington was usually spent in Olympia at the capitol building, consulting with Senator Krepky’s staff for the Senate defense subcommittee. Her clearance, her experience, and the fact that she was a shifter, all made her a resource the Army liked to exploit to keep the political types on their side.
It was a great job, actually, and one she had no desire to lose. Not to mention that her travels conveniently kept her far from this precise building where her father, Lt. Colonel Astor Wilding held court. Ever since she had turned eighteen and stormed out of the house, staying out of her father’s orbit had been priority number one. This little mission was trespassing on her father’s territory, something she had long ago vowed never to do. But Noah deserved better than to disappear into a black hole and have no one even try to find him.
Once she had made a circuit through the first floor, she subtly tried the access to a stairwell with her key card. Locked. She didn’t want to trigger any alarms with a repeat attempt, so she made her way to the coffee room and poured herself a brimming, steaming cup. With any luck, the command center would be high enough on the food chain to have decent coffee. Which she certainly needed after being up most of the night. She took a few sips—not bad—then casually strolled back down the hall and ducked into an empty cubicle.
The analyst who owned this ten-by-ten space had either not come in yet or stepped away. In case they’d only made a quick trip to the bathroom, Piper hung out, sipping her coffee and looking like she was just on break. After about three minutes, she set down her cup, eased into the chair, and tapped awake the computer screen.
Her background didn’t include a specialization in computer hacking, but she was familiar with military security protocols, and she hopefully had the right ID. It wasn’t so much a matter of hacking, as just having the right access to begin with. The computer was locked down, as per protocol, but anyone with standard level access should be able to open it up again. Which she managed with a simple swipe of her key card. The prompt for the central database would be the trick. She’d already constructed a new user and password for her ID—she tapped those in, said a silent prayer, and pressed the enter key.
Access denied.
She typed it again hoping she had simply mistyped the first time.
Access denied.
Shit. Third time was either the charm… or the thing that would set off all the alarm bells. She stood up, ready to make a run for her car, as she carefully typed the string of letters and numbers one more time.
She didn’t even finish typing before a shuffle of boots and a click sound made her look up. Standing at the entrance to her cubicle was a burly man in camouflage with an M-16 pointed at her head.
Her hands whipped up into the air. “Hey, no need to get excited! I just was checking my email.”
He didn’t move. Half a breath and a flurry of stomping boots later, four more rifles appeared over the top of the short cubicle walls, all pointed at her head.
“Hey, now, come on,” she said quickly, forcing a smile on her face. “I’m not doing anything.”
“Down on your knees,” the first one said in a low command that brooked no dissent.
She dissented anyway. “But, I swear, I didn’t—”
“Not going to ask you again, Ma’am.”
The military politeness sent a shiver through her. The boy was serious. He was prepared to shoot her dead right here in the cubicle.
“Yeah, okay, sure. Just don’t… don’t shoot, okay?” Piper kept her voice light and scared, like an innocent person would have, even though she was far from that. She slowly sank to her knees, hands behind her head.
The soldiers rushed in and shoved her to the ground.
Somehow, she’d really fucked this up.
Daniel was convinced Piper would come straight to the Joint Base, and Jace could understand why: she had stolen his ID. Which was why they were sitting in the security office of Lewis-McChord, getting Daniel’s fingerprints and retina scans recorded and cleared through the system. They’d been there for over an hour, and the sun was halfway up the sky. Finally, after a hell of a lot of paperwork even for the military, Daniel scored a new ID, and they were released. Jace had a restricted-access visitor’s pass, but Daniel had his full security clearance key card enabled.
Jace glanced at his phone: nearly ten o’clock.
As the two of them strode out of the brick-and-concrete security office near the front gate, Jace asked, “Your dad’s a Colonel here, right?” He hadn’t wanted to mention it earlier, while they were inside, especially given how it seemed a sensitive issue between Daniel and Piper. But it was pretty relevant to their objectives, given the Colonel surely could have vouched for his son and expedited getting a new ID.
“Yeah.” Daniel’s face pinched in. “Trust me, the Colonel’s not the kind to easily forgive something lik
e losing your ID. It was easier and less painful this way. Plus, I didn’t want to explain that Piper was the one who stole it.”
Jace looked askance at him. “But if Piper came here directly, wouldn’t he already know? Especially if she used your ID to get in? I mean, would that even work? You two look alike, but trust me, no one’s going to think she’s male.”
Daniel grimaced. “She probably altered the ID. And she’s probably sneaking around the base without setting off any alarms. It’s the kind of thing she’s good at.” He scowled like there was a history behind that statement. “Believe me, she doesn’t want my father to know she’s here. I’m sure she’s using all her shiny new spy skills to avoid that.”
“So, then, what’s our next move?” Jace wasn’t familiar with the base. During his time in the Army as a medic he was stationed at Fort Drum in New York, the First Brigade Combat Team, 10th Mountain Division. The 1st BCT deployed to Afghanistan, like Noah Wilding’s troop, but Jace discharged over a year ago now, and there had been thousands of soldiers rotating through Afghanistan since then. Still… some of his contacts in the Division might know if soldiers had started to go missing. Jace had already put some feelers out before they left the safehouse.
Daniel gestured to his car. “Next, we go to my office and try to figure out where Piper might be.” They hopped in and drove to a large brick-and-white stone building near the center of the base that looked brand-spanking new. Its towering glass and steel architecture was straight out of a design catalog. The sign out front identified it as the Theater Aviation Command (TAC) Readiness Center.
“Your buildings are like flipping cathedrals here,” Jace said, with a smirk as they climbed out of the car. “Knew I should’ve tried to get stationed in Washington.”
