Phantom Wolf pf-2

by Bonnie Vanak

  Tears gathered in Hilda’s eyes. “You’re the only one left who can save them, Kelly.” Hilda glanced at the silver triskele. “You have powers we lack. Make right this wrong before the Elementals judge all Arcanes as guilty and kill us.”

  Hatred punctuated those words. Kelly placed a gentle hand on her friend’s arm. “There are good Elementals. Not all are so unreasonable.”

  The dripping rain slowed and stopped. But a steady tapping came upon the battered roof. Fear flickered across Hilda’s face. She and Fernando glanced upward.

  The sound of claws skittering across a metal roof, accompanied by a distinct, foul smell. Only one creature could emit such a nauseous stench....

  Kelly’s heart dropped to her stomach. She pointed at the ceiling. “Ilthus,” she whispered.

  Blood drained from Hilda’s face.

  Fingers tight around the triskele pendant, she headed for the door. Hilda grabbed her arm.

  “Don’t go out there. It will kill you,” the terrified woman whispered.

  “I can’t let it get to Fernando.”

  The warped turquoise door creaked as she opened it. Rain dripped on the cracked concrete courtyard, where the soaked wash hung limply on the frayed clothesline. Kelly sang out a chant to gather her powers as she stepped outside.

  A foul stench tainted the air, the smell of sulfur and decay. Gagging, she inched backward, trying to peer onto the roof. The skittering sound stopped.

  Power hummed beneath her trembling hands. Ilthuses were clever and quick, and they could move...

  A harsh screech split the air. As she looked up, a red-and-blue-speckled thing launched itself off the roof.

  Scrambling backward, she avoided the daggered claws swiping at her face. Instead, the creature shredded a ragged shirt on the clothesline. The ilthus shrieked again and skittered on all fours. Saliva dripped from its black slit of a mouth.

  It came closer, hissing, its lizardlike pupils contracting as it fixed a stare at Kelly, seeing prey, seeing its target up close. A forked tongue shot out of its mouth.

  The ilthus opened its mouth and hissed. A steady stream of gray mist sprayed out of its mouth, the rotten-egg stench making Kelly’s eyes tear, her vision blur.

  Backing up, she hit a wall. No place to run. Dear gods, I’m going to die from the smell. She blinked hard and focused.

  The door banged open. Hilda came outside, armed with an iron skillet. The brave, crazy woman!

  “Take this, you stinking son of a bitch,” Hilda screamed in Spanish as she threw the skillet.

  It missed the ilthus, but the distraction was enough. The creature stopped spraying.

  “Get back,” Kelly yelled at Hilda.

  Kelly breathed through her mouth and flung out her power at the creature, and then she dived behind a rusty washing machine.

  With a loud shriek, the ilthus exploded, spraying green slime over the walls and the wet laundry.

  Hands shaking, Kelly struggled to her feet. She stared at the mess. Hilda stepped into the courtyard, holding her nose.

  Rain began falling again. Kelly gave a wry grin.

  “Sorry about the laundry and the smell,” she said.

  Hilda hugged her tight. “You saved us.”

  “No.” She pushed at her long, tangled hair. “I brought it to you. It must have followed me from the airport.” She could expect more scouts like this. The rogue Arcanes didn’t want interference before they could hide the children in a safe place.

  “But who knew you were coming, or where you went?” Hilda looked confused.

  Kelly thought of the angry cabdriver. “The taxi driver who drove me here. He’s Arcane. Must have been alerted I’d left the country and waited for me at the airport.”

  “You’re fortunate he did not harm you in the cab.”

  “Maybe he was instructed to notice where I went. They probably want to see how much I know and where I go.” Kelly squeezed her friend’s hands. “Take Fernando, go visit your sister. Please. For your own safety. He’ll be more comfortable there.”

  The rogue Arcanes were watching her, probably to see if she dared to track down the children. She needed Sam and his team of SEALs. But if they weren’t coming, she had to do this on her own. Kelly’s stomach churned. She wasn’t a courageous navy SEAL, trained to combat evil.

  But neither was she a coward.

  Chapter 6

  In ST 21’s ready room, Shay looked at his CO with pure dismay.

  Kelly had fled and the Council of Mages gave an official order. They were going down range into Honduras. Hellfire, he could face a squad of vampires armed with RPGs easier than this assignment.

  The briefing book lay open before him on the table. In the room, Dakota, Renegade and Sully studied their copies. Using a red laser pen, Curt pointed to a map on the screen in front of the room.

  “More than eighty percent of the coke entering the U.S. is shipped through Honduras. Drugs are flown into the Miskito Coast from South America and then transported to the States.

  “This is an extremely covert op. Several months ago, U.S. forces joined with the Hondurans and used military outposts, established by the Hondurans, to conduct counterinsurgency against the cartels. The FOL had the Honduran Air Force rapidly deploying to intercept aircraft and boats smuggling narcotics. Brass pulled the plug after bad PR regarding a shooting incident. Now brass wants us to train the Honduran security forces on counterinsurgency and CQC techniques.”

  FOL, forward operating location. CQC, close quarters combat.

  SOL, no explanation needed. That was Kelly’s fate, and he was powerless to change it. He’d told Curt what Kelly suspected, but his CO needed proof.

  Kelly had none.

  Shay squeezed his briefing book, magick boiling in his blood. Sparks of white light began dancing on the table’s surface. Sully glanced over and motioned to tone it down.

  Deep breaths. He forced his magick to calm. If Curt suspected he couldn’t control his powers, he’d order him off this op. And he needed to be there, to ensure nothing happened to Kelly.

  “Your mission is nonintervention. Restricted to training the Honduran security forces in counterinsurgency and CQC.”

  Their CO paused, his gaze steady and unblinking. “That’s your official mission. Your paranormal code mission is Operation Flight Bird. Find and capture Kelly Denning to face arrest by the Council of Mages on the charge of kidnapping Billy Rogers. The council is sending a special detachment to escort her back.”

  So it had come to this. Shay cursed his uncle’s sabbatical on a remote island. With Al’s lone voice of reason gone, the council moved against Kelly. “So she doesn’t get a chance to defend herself?”

  “The council will provide an attorney,” Curt said.

  Shay snorted. “Right. One working for the lynch mob.”

  Beside him, Renegade shook his head. “The woman’s guilty as hell, Shay. You can’t see it because you were involved with her.”

  Flipping him the finger, Shay shook his head. “Everyone is innocent until convicted.”

  He looked at his CO.

  “You know what those bastards in the council will do to her, Curt.”

  Sympathy flared in the older Mage’s gray gaze. “I know, Shay. We’re caught in a web of dirty Mage politics, and Senator Rogers is jerking our strings. But she will receive a fair trial, even if I have to fight tooth and nail for her. You have to trust the process.”

  Trust the process. Right.

  “Those are your orders.”

  He was a soldier in the U.S. Navy. Order and discipline. Even if he didn’t like the orders, Shay had to follow them.

  Even if the thought of taking his former lover prisoner splintered that rock he once called his heart.

  * * *

  Hours later, they landed at the Palmerola Air Base, where the United States had a long-standing presence. They were joined by Greg Andrews, the new SEAL on Team 21’s Phoenix Force. Andrews was a last-minute addition to the op, direct order
s from the admiral himself.

  Shay knew the guys slightly resented the FNG, the effing new guy, mainly because he took Adam’s place. Adam was a jag shifter, killed in Afghanistan when he and Dakota were ambushed by demons.

  Shorter in stature, with mild brown eyes and a lean build, Greg studied the old, weathered “hootches” serving as their quarters.

  “No running water inside,” Greg mused. “Latrines and showers are over there.”

  Sully took a look at the worn-wood buildings and shrugged. “Beats sleeping in the jungle.”

  “To each their own, wolf.” Greg was a tiger shifter.

  They stashed their gear. They had barely finished when Dakota’s cell rang and he stepped outside to take the call. Their lieutenant returned to the barracks, his face grim. Shay stopped cleaning his sidearm. He knew that look, disbelief and frustration.

  Meaning, some hotshot brass had screwed up the mission.

  Dakota ran a hand through his hair.

  “Orders have changed. The tracking chip indicates our target is in San Lorenzo, way south of here. We’re to capture the target and notify Curt as soon as she’s in custody. Then take her to an LZ near San Lorenzo to await a helo, where we’ll hand over the prisoner to the Mage council representative. We’re traveling as civilians. No weapons. Curt says we’ll spook the local police.”

  Gooseflesh broke out on Shay’s arms. “Not even a sidearm?”

  “Curt said those are our orders, direct from the admiral.” Dakota’s voice was tight.

  His Mage senses were all but roaring. “What’s the deal? He’d never send us out without weapons.”

  “Damn, I don’t like it,” Sully muttered.

  “Any ideas, Shay?” Dakota gave him an even look.

  Shay gazed around the stark barracks. Sweat trickled down his back into the waistband of his cammies. He always followed orders, but hellfire, this order sounded like trouble. He was the team’s weapon’s expert. “Time to call in some favors.” He removed his cell, palming it. “Give me a couple of hours.”

  It took less than that. The former politician in the Honduran Congress he’d done a security detail for two years ago was happy to help. An hour later, Shay returned to base in a dark blue Range Rover. The other SEALs gathered around the vehicle as he jumped out.

  “Vehicle’s bulletproof. We’ll travel in these.”

  He tossed five oversize khaki shirts and several pairs of olive cargo pants to Dakota, along with five leather gun holsters. Sully picked his up and whistled. “Sweet. It’ll do.”

  “More goodies in the trunk. Not much ammo. All I could scrounge up at the last moment.”

  Dakota nodded. “Good job, Shay.”

  No satisfaction filled him at the praise. Instead, he felt only a sense of unease. Every instinct screamed caution.

  A short time later, they emerged from their barracks in cargo pants, the loose-fitting khaki shirts draped over the waistbands. Tucked inside each man’s pants was a leather holster carrying a Sig Sauer 9 mm.

  “Not bad,” Greg muttered. “We blend with the locals. Too bad we can’t carry a rocket launcher in our pants.”

  “Shay always carries a rocket launcher in his pants,” Renegade jested.

  As they moved to the vehicle’s rear, Shay looked around to ensure they weren’t watched. He opened the hatch and lifted the carpeting. In a specially designed wheel well were five HK MP5 submachine guns.

  “No extra ammo, but fully loaded.”

  “I always did like fully loaded vehicles,” Sully drawled.

  Dakota nodded. “Much better insurance for the road than triple A. I’m not going to ask how you got them. We’ll take a minimum of gear, plus com equipment, stash it here.”

  After doing so, they loaded the vehicle with water, supplies and their packs. Shay pocketed flex cuffs he’d laced with his own magick to restrain Kelly once they caught her.

  Sitting shotgun next to Dakota, Shay consulted with the miniature receiver that transmitted a steady beacon from Kelly’s security chip.

  Renegade leaned between the seats. “What if she removed it?”

  “She wouldn’t. Kelly knows Rogers would send us here. That’s what she wants.”

  Sully whistled. “Why?”

  He studied the flashing pinpoint of light. “She needs our help.”

  Renegade snorted. “Help her? The woman who kidnapped the senator’s only child?”

  Kelly had trusted him and spilled all her secrets. But she didn’t know what a dangerous game she played. Shay’s fingers tightened around the transponder. Curt had assured him that she’d get a fair trial. But even the powerful Mage couldn’t prevent Kelly from suffering an accident.

  Are you delivering her to her death?

  He looked directly at his lieutenant. “She didn’t kidnap Billy. Kelly told me rogue Arcanes are holding other Elemental children here in Honduras.”

  Dakota looked stunned.

  “She’s here to rescue these missing Phantom children. Kelly says a group of Arcanes plans to kill them, drain their powers and use the magick to imitate Elementals to exterminate my people. And they’re going to create another Dark Lord to aid them.”

  Shay’s throat tightened. “Genocide of all Elemental Mages.”

  Silence, except for the rumble of the engine.

  “Christ,” Sully muttered. “Shades of Rwanda and Bosnia.”

  “Sounds far-fetched. You believe it?” Renegade asked.

  Shay sighed. “I believe she didn’t kidnap Billy and that she believes she is fighting for the right cause.”

  The other, he needed proof.

  He glanced at his lieutenant. “And I believe the council is gunning for her, because of Senator Rogers.”

  Dakota had a white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel. “They’re your people, Shay. You know Mage politics better than we do. But we have our orders.”

  “Let’s go,” he said, and gave the coordinates.

  * * *

  Trees and shrubs flanked the road, shadowed by the magnificent vista of jagged mountains. Dakota kept a steady speed, except to slow and jerk the vehicle around potholes the size of moon craters. Small, rough-hewn shacks sold colorful handwoven hammocks strung between trees. Two or three times they had to stop and slow for men driving a herd of cattle on the road, waving a red caution flag for vehicles.

  Three hours later, they reached San Lorenzo. A faded statue of the saint guarded the town’s entrance. Shay’s pulse accelerated as he glanced at the receiver.

  “She’s here. Take the right fork, then the first right.”

  They drove past a row of buildings and hit a dirt road. Simple wood-and-adobe houses flanked the road, cordoned off from each other by barbed-wire fences. The burning sun in the crisp blue sky baked the landscape.

  After a series of turns, they arrived at a white concrete building bearing a sign that read Health Center in Spanish. A few women, babies in their arms, mingled out front as Dakota parked the Rover.

  In the dirt road, Kelly kicked a soccer ball to four young boys. Faded jeans hugged her curves and clung to her heart-shaped ass. The cap-sleeved turquoise shirt accented her high, generous breasts and showed arms that were toned and tanned. A clip held up her long red hair, but several tendrils had escaped and curled in the heat. Shouts sounded as the boys chased the ball. She glanced up and saw their vehicle. No reaction.

  “She’s expecting us,” Sully marveled.

  Shay removed the flex ties and climbed out as Dakota waited, engine humming. The thick, humid air wrung sweat from his pores as he faced his former lover.

  Soon to be his prisoner.

  For a moment, he remained motionless. Skin soft and smooth, she was so pretty, life sparking in her big blue eyes. He loved the way the sun glinted off the copper highlights in her hair as the ponytail tumbled past her slender shoulders. Shay drew in a deep breath as a droplet of sweat rolled down the slope of her smooth throat.

  He remembered another time when he’d made he
r sweat.

  Shay steeled himself. You have a job to do.

  Kelly kicked the ball to the boys. “Sorry, guys, my ride’s here. You finish the game,” she called in Spanish.

  As she grabbed her pack, Shay waited. No emotion showed on her face as she walked toward him.

  “Kelly Denning, you’re under arrest,” he said in English.

  “Please, don’t do this here,” she said in a low voice. “Not in front of them. I don’t want a scene.”

  Shay took her arm, led her down a deserted side street, away from curious bystanders. Dakota followed in the Rover.

  Before an abandoned adobe building, he cuffed her wrists.

  Her skin was soft and warm beneath his fingers. Shay kept his voice steady.

  “Kelly Denning, you are under arrest according to the Law of Mages and hereby remanded to custody.”

  He ushered her into the vehicle, between himself and Greg in the backseat. Dakota glanced in the mirror.

  “I made the call to Curt. Helo will meet us at the LZ in thirty minutes,” he said in a tight voice.

  Her hands shook, but she scrubbed them against her jeans. “Where...” She cleared her voice. “Where are you taking me?”

  As Dakota told her, blood drained from her face. “I can’t leave the country.”

  “You have no choice,” Shay said almost gently.

  She pulled at her cuffs to no avail. “I won’t let you do this.”

  Shay placed a hand on her arm, feeling delicate bones beneath her soft skin. “We’re under orders, Kelly.”

  “Whose orders? Your commanding officer?”

  When he nodded, she looked paler. “He’s a Primary Elemental Mage, isn’t he?”

  “Yes.” Shay looked out the window.

  “Those orders are bogus.”

  From the front seat, Renegade snorted. Dakota glanced at Shay in the rearview mirror as they headed south on the highway.

  Kelly turned to him, her expression fierce. “Your CO isn’t who you think he is. He’s been replaced. The extermination of your people has already begun, Sam.”

  The others said nothing, but their faces said it all. Kelly was a desperate prisoner who’d do anything to escape.