by Ronie Kendig
PRAISE FOR THE DISCARDED HEROES SERIES
In Wolfsbane, Ronie Kendig has crafted a story of brokenness and healing. Add in an electrically-charged romance and twists so complex you’ll feel like a pretzel—all within a fast-paced military thriller—and you have the perfect suspense novel that will tug at your heart as it compels you to read one more chapter. I hated to see this book end!
—Cara C. Putman,
author of Stars in the Night and Ohio Brides
True to her tagline, Rapid-Fire Fiction, Ronie Kendig intensifies the tension, action, and emotional heartache in her latest Discarded Heroes thriller, Wolfsbane. Unafraid to pen flawed and vulnerable characters, Ronie brings together a tarnished hero and a shattered woman, both fighting bitterness and desperate for redemption and forgiveness. A high-risk mission in the Venezuelan jungle provides relentless action and stomach clenching danger as Canyon, Dani, and the Nightshade team experience betrayals and consequences that will leave you breathless. Supremely talented, Ronie Kendig’s military thrillers are imprinted with an unparalleled combination of grit, courage, emotional intelligence, and spiritual depth. The Discarded Heroes series holds pride of place on my bookshelves—why not yours?!
—Rel of Relz Reviewz
Ronie Kendig serves up a mix of machine gun-fast action, touching romance, and more twists than a coil of detonator wire. Get a good grip on the edge of your seat before you start reading!
—Rick Acker,
author of When the Devil Whistles and Dead Man’s Rule
Gripping. Compelling. Gritty. Intense. And that’s just the first few pages. Ronie Kendig’s Wolfsbane made me hold my breath and grit my teeth with the turn of each page. The suspense and the emotion merged together in an action-packed tale of danger tempered with redemption. When you sit down to read this book, hold on tight. You’re in for a wild but fulfilling ride.
—Lenora Worth, author of Body of Evidence
“Wolfsbane is rapid-fire, fast-paced, and will leave you breathless. An incredible story with intense characters who face timeless struggles. Another favorite for our shelf from Kendig!”
—Kimberley and Kayla R. Woodhouse,
authors of No Safe Haven and Race Against Time
Digitalis kept pace with thrilling suspense and strong characters that will live long past the last page. None of us realize the dedication of those who keep our world safe.
—DiAnn Mills, author of the Call of Duty series
An action-packed thrill ride from start to finish … if you liked CBS’s long running hit series The Unit you’re going to love Ronie Kendig’s Digitalis. Enjoy the ride and the read. I only have one question … where do I sign up for Nightshade?
—Bob Hamer, veteran FBI undercover agent
and the author of Enemies Among Us
Fast paced and deliciously intriguing, Digitalis delivers military high-octane with just the right amount of romance and suspense. Kendig knows how to keep readers flipping pages until the wee hours of the night. Don’t miss this one!
—Robin Caroll, author of
Fear No Evil and In the Shadow of Evil
OTHER BOOKS BY
RONIE KENDIG
Nightshade (Discarded Heroes #1)
Digitalis (Discarded Heroes #2)
© 2011 by Ronie Kendig
Print ISBN 978-1-60260-784-2
eBook Editions:
Adobe Digital Edition (.epub) 978-1-60742-542-7
Kindle and MobiPocket Edition (.prc) 978-1-60742-543-4
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission of the publisher.
Scripture quotations are taken from the HOLY BIBLE, NEW IINTERNATIONAL VERSION®. NIV®. Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.™ Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual people, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.
For more information about Ronie Kendig, please access the author’s website at the following Internet address: www.roniekendig.com
Cover design: Müllerhaus Publishing Arts, Inc., www.Mullerhaus.net
Published by Barbour Publishing, Inc., P.O. Box 719, Uhrichsville, OH 44683, www.barbourbooks.com
Our mission is to publish and distribute inspirational products offering exceptional value and biblical encouragement to the masses.
Printed in the United States of America.
Table of Contents
Endorsements
Nightshade Team
Glossary of Terms/Acronyms
U.S. Army Special Forces Creed
The Invitation
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Day 1
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Day 2
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Day 2
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Day 2
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Day 6
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Day 7
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Day 7
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Epilogue
DEDICATION
To my children,
Ciara, Keighley, Ryan, and Reagan
Thank you for your patience,
Your cheers,
Your quiet (so Mommy could write),
Your laughter,
But most important …
For being YOU!
I love you soooooo much!
ACKNOWLEDGMENT
Special thanks to:
The Barbour Fiction Team—Becky Germany, Mary Burns, Shalyn Sattler, Elizabeth Shrider, Laura Young … a hundred-thousand thank-yous!!
Andrew Kendall—For the amazing Nightshade insignia! You rock!
Agent-Man Steve Laube—You RAWK!! No more ledge-pushing for me, k?
Julee Schwarzburg—A million thanks is not enough. Thank you for believing in me and this series and working so tirelessly. You. Are. Amazing!
Michael Lawrence—for surfing help. Thanks, Dude!
Knees-On-Ground Prayer Team—Your prayers have sustained, encouraged, and uplifted me. I pray God will bless you one hundred-fold in return!
My Arsenal of Friends and Crit Partners—Lynn Dean, Lynne Gentry, Kellie Gilbert, Dineen Miller, Robin Miller, Sara Mills, Rel Mollet, John Olson, Jim Rubart, Camy Tang, Lori Twichell, Lara Van Hulzen, Kimberley Woodhouse, and Rebecca Yauger.
First Reader: Shannon McNear—Girl, you are such a Godsend. I praise Him for your friendship!
Chuck Holton—Thanks for being part of my “arsenal” for military advice and direction. (All mistakes in Wolfsbane are purely mine.)
Don Brown—Thank you, sir, for your service to our country, and thank you also for your help regarding military law.
Jeanette Windle—For being gracious and helping me with Spanish.
NIGHTSHADE TEAM
&nbs
p; Max “Frogman” Jacobs—former U.S. Navy SEAL, team leader
Canyon “Midas” Metcalfe—former Army Special Forces Group
Colton “Cowboy” Neeley—former U.S. Marine Corps Special Operations Command, sniper
Griffin “Legend” Riddell—former U.S. Marine Corps Special Operations Command
Marshall “the Kid” Vaughn—former U.S. Army Ranger
John “Squirt” Dighton—former U.S. Navy SEAL
Azzan “Aladdin” Yasir—former Mossad
General Olin Lambert, aka “The Old Man”—Chief of the Army, member of Joint Chiefs of Staff
GLOSSARY OF TERMS/ACRONYMS
CID—United States Army Criminal Investigation Command
HUMINT—Human Intelligence
IED—Improvised Explosive Device
JAG—Judge Advocate General
Klicks—kilometers
MP—Military Police
NVGs—Night-Vision Goggles
PTSD—Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder
RPG—Rocket-Propelled Grenade
SF—Special Forces
SOG—a combat knife
Tango—military slang for target or enemy
USACE—United States Army Corps of Engineers
USCG—United States Coast Guard
VFA—fictitious Venezuelan rebel army: El Valor de Fuerzas Armadas de Bolivarian
U.S. ARMY SPECIAL FORCES CREED
I am an American Special Forces soldier. A professional!
I will do all that my nation requires of me.
I am a volunteer, knowing well the hazards of my profession.
I serve with the memory of those who have gone before me: Roger’s Rangers, Francis Marion, Mosby’s Rangers, the first Special Service Forces and Ranger Battalions of World War II, the Airborne Ranger Companies of Korea. I pledge to uphold the honor and integrity of all I am—in all I do.
I am a professional soldier. I will teach and fight wherever my nation requires. I will strive always, to excel in every art and artifice of war.
I know that I will be called upon to perform tasks in isolation, far from familiar faces and voices, with the help and guidance of my God.
I will keep my mind and body clean, alert, and strong, for this is my debt to those who depend upon me.
I will not fail those with whom I serve. I will not bring shame upon myself or the forces.
I will maintain myself, my arms, and my equipment in an immaculate state as befits a Special Forces soldier.
I will never surrender though I be the last. If I am taken, I pray that I may have the strength to spit upon my enemy.
My goal is to succeed in any mission—and live to succeed again.
I am a member of my nation’s chosen soldiery. God grant that I may not be found wanting, that I will not fail this sacred trust.
THE INVITATION
Judicial Building, Virginia Beach
Blood dripped into his left eye.
No. Not blood. Sweat. Hands tight against his hips and fists balled, Captain Canyon Metcalfe blinked away the sting. Another salty drop slid down his temple. Eyes ahead, he focused on his reflection in the massive mirror. Between it and him sat an eight-foot table harboring a panel of three Army investigators from Criminal Investigation Command sent for his one-year evaluation. More like interrogation. And he knew they weren’t legit. Nobody got a review once they were out. This wasn’t about legitimacy. This was about them insuring he’d kept his mouth shut.
Canyon watched his reflection as a bead skidded over his forehead and nose. Felt warm and moderately sticky. So much like …
It’s not blood. Not blood.
“Captain, do you have anything to add?” Major Hartwicke lifted the inches-thick file in her manicured hands and stared at him.
“You understand, Captain, if you reveal anything about what has happened here, you will face a full court-martial and dishonorable discharge.”
The voice from twenty-one months ago forged his response. “No, sir.”
Behind the one-way mirror a ghost of a shape shifted. Or was that a shadow? No, he was pretty sure he’d seen the human outline. So there were more eyes monitoring this so-called review. They’re testing me. No surprise. As a matter of fact, he’d expected them to drag him out of bed in the middle of the night, haul him into the woods, and try to beat a confession out of him.
Innocence didn’t matter. Justice didn’t matter.
Only one thing mattered: silence.
Hartwicke pushed her chair back from the table and stood. “Captain, I don’t understand.” She motioned to the two investigators with her. “We’ve told you the CID believes there is enough … ambiguity in the charges and proceedings from thirteen March of last year to question the guilty verdict.” She tilted her head. “In fact, this panel believes you may be innocent.”
“You are not innocent in this brutal crime, Captain Metcalfe. No matter your role, you are guilty. As the officer in charge, you bear that responsibility. Do you understand?”
The eyes of the government held no boundaries. They saw everything. Knew everything. One way or another. Always waiting to throw him away for good. Just as they’d done with the villagers.
Her shoes scritched against the cement floor as she stepped nearer. “Why are you doing this?” she whispered. “Why would you throw away your career?”
Throw away his career? Was she kidding? It’d been ripped from his bloodied hands in a colossal mistake twenty-four months ago. Canyon ground his teeth together. Do not look at her; do not respond. She didn’t deserve a response if she thought this was his choice.
A chair squawked, snapping his gaze to the second investigator who moved from behind the table, his gaze locked on Canyon. What did they want from him? He’d kept the dirty little secret. Lived with it. Relived it night after painful night. Living when she died.
Brown eyes cut off his visual escape. “Captain Metcalfe,” Major Rubart said in a low, controlled voice. “I don’t know what they”—he rolled his eyes to the side to indicate the one-way mirror—“told you or what they used against you as a threat in retaliation for talking, but I think you know something.”
Despite his every effort not to, Canyon looked at the mirror.
“You know the truth about that fateful night, don’t you?”
The words yanked his eyes to Rubart’s. Did this officer really want the truth? Or was this another test? What Canyon wouldn’t do to tell, to right the wrong, to relieve the burden … But that’s just what they wanted him to do—relieve his mind and prove they were right, that he could be coerced into talking. That he was weak.
He flicked his attention back to the glass and the shadow moving behind it.
“You disappoint me, Captain.” Air swirled cold and unfeeling as Rubart eased away. “Your sister says you’ve not been the same since you returned from that mission.”
“My sister puts her mouth before her brain.” And for that, Canyon would have a long talk with Willow.
“Do you understand what your silence means?” A bitter edge dug into Rubart’s words as he glared at Canyon, who stared through the man.
“What I understand is that you’ve abused a relationship with my impressionable sister to extract information for the military.”
Rubart’s lips tightened. “Your silence means the people of Tres Kruces receive no justice.”
The thick-bladed words sliced through Canyon’s heart.
Quiet tension tightened the air.
“Willow says you’ve wanted to be a Green Beret since you were twelve.”
“Ten.” Canyon bit his tongue on the automatic correction. He wouldn’t do this. Wouldn’t cave under the pressure. He’d endured far worse.
“How can you let them rip it from you? Everything you love and worked for with blood, sweat, and tears?” After several slow, calming breaths, Rubart gave a single nod. “Enough evidence exists to open a full investigation that could reinstate you with full honors, full rank. Just give us one w
ord, one inclination that you’ll work with us, and it’ll be as if you never left.”
Everything in Canyon wanted that back. Wanted the career he’d felt called to, the adrenaline rush of battle, the humanitarian work of helping villages after a tragedy or an insurgency …
Screams howled through the fires. He glanced back. Where was she? How had they gotten separated? He spun, searching the debris and crackling embers.
A scream behind him.
He pivoted. Two feminine forms raced into a hut. “No,” he shouted. “Not in—”
BOOM!
His body lifted, flipped as he sailed through the taunting flames and grieving ashes.
“Captain?”
Canyon blinked back to Major Rubart.
“Just give us some indication you’ll help. We’ll mete out the details later. Just don’t let it go at this. You know this is wrong. Don’t let them win.”
Irritation clawed its way up Canyon’s spine, burrowing into his resolve. He saw through the tactic. “Are we done, sir?”
Rubart’s cheek twitched. “You’re going to walk away?”
“In a three-to-one decision, you are hereby discharged. Your actions will be mentioned in limited detail in our final report to the congressional oversight committee. Should you speak openly about this again, you will find yourself in a federal prison for the rest of your life. Do you understand the ruling, Captain Metcalfe?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I cannot express this enough—this favor we are extending you will be revoked completely if you ever again speak of Tres Kruces.”
“Captain?”
He met Rubart’s gaze evenly. “Decision’s been made.”
“You can’t mean that.” Hartwicke’s voice pitched. “Think—”
“Dismissed, Captain,” the third investigator barked from his chair at the table.
Canyon saluted, then pivoted and strode out. He punched open the door. As he stomped across the parking lot, he wrangled himself free of the dress jacket. He jerked open the door of his red Camaro and snatched off his beret. Flung it into the car. Slammed the door shut. Shuffled and kicked the wheel.
