Mitchell stepped off the elevator and headed to the indoor range. He didn’t often shoot, but when he did, he preferred his privacy. The one thing he did appreciate about his position was that he could take what time he did have and use it as proficiently as he saw fit. If that meant spending it in the gym, he could. If he wanted to go to the indoor range, he could do that as well. As he stepped behind the shooters table and attached a target to the clips, the motorized transom ran it out to distance. A life-sized target, he should be able to score easily with his eyesight. He began loading the magazines and setting them on the table for future use when some of the new recruits came in. The colonel glanced up for a moment then went back to loading his magazines.
The men looked down and noticed the colonel was loading 9MM rounds into one set of mags and .45s into another set. Lamb felt compelled to ask, “Colonel, you don’t carry a FiveseveN like the rest of us?”
“No, son, I’m usually stuck in control and, to be honest, I still prefer the old classics.” Matt rammed a magazine home and let the slide drop forward, chambering a round.
The men just nodded. They had grown fond of the new weapons, but some of them really wished they could trade out the carbine for the M4 they were so much more familiar with. They just didn’t know how to breach the subject with the colonel. He seemed so adamant that they use the same caliber weapon for both their pistol and carbine that it seemed sacrilege to even broach the subject.
The colonel ran through a couple of magazines of 9MM and shot well. Good enough for an officer, Jacobs thought. “You ever shoot the FiveseveN, sir?”
Matt glanced at Ing over his glasses as he reloaded his magazines. “Of course, Jacobs. I’m the one who approved the platform.”
The men all just nodded. Finally, Matt set his ammunition and magazines down and turned toward the men. “Is there something you boys would like to discuss with me?”
Most of the men took half a step back, muttering, ‘no’ or ‘no, sir’ as they did, but Lamb stepped forward. “Sir, I’d like to request permission to transition back to the M4 battle rifle.”
Matt raised an eyebrow. Of the two squads, none had ever requested anything like this before. They all seemed more than happy with the FN weaponry. They loved the cyclic rate, the power of the 5.7 round, the lethality of the low grain .224 bullet, the light weight of the weapon, the short barrel was perfect for CQB. He saw no flaws with it. “Is there a reason why, Ron?”
“Sir, with all due respect, it’s just too small for me. I can’t comfortably get a cheek weld on it and it feels like I’m trying to use a pistol as a rifle,” Lamb shrugged. “You made an excellent decision in the round, sir, and the platform is more than sound, it’s just too uncomfortable for me to get used to. My arms are too long and my neck simply doesn’t bend right to get a proper cheek weld. I’ve tried using three different optics on it and I just can’t get it.” Lamb looked almost distraught over it.
Matt nodded his head. He looked around at the other new men and asked, “Any more of you having trouble adjusting to the new weaponry?” Robert Mueller and Gus Tracy both raised their hands. Matt nodded his head again and looked at the ground. “And all of you are wanting to switch to the M4?”
The two men exchanged glances. Tracy shrugged. “I might could make the SCAR work, sir, but the M4 is more comfortable. It was my go-to weapon.”
“All right,” Matt said. “First thing tomorrow go to Ms. Youngblood and put in a requisition for new M4s. Make sure we order enough hi-capacity magazines for you boys to both train with and for field use.” Matt went back to loading his magazines for use on the range. “And make sure the armory knows that we’ll have three squad members switching primary weapons. He’s going to need to keep spare parts on hand, and probably spare weapons.” Matt put his ear protection back on and took aim. “You boys are hell on weaponry in the field, and I damn sure don’t want to end up short on equipment when the shit hits the fan.”
He emptied his weapon into the target and dropped his magazine to the floor, sliding a new one in as the first one fell out and, releasing the slide forward, he was back on target in the blink of an eye and shooting the eyes out of his target. When that magazine was empty, he dropped it and blew the smoke from his Beretta. “I’m no squad member, but the old man can still hold his own.”
Robert Mueller cracked a smile, “I’d let you cover my six, sir.” With the nod of his head at the decimated target he added, “Any day.”
Jack was still in shock from what Nadia had told him. She remained cuddled next to him and rubbing his hands, calming him. His world had been turned upside down in a matter of moments. He literally went from being relieved that he wasn’t a vampire to finding out that he was a werewolf, and never had a clue.
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Positive.”
“How?” he stammered. “I mean, how can you be sure? And how are the little black pills the key?”
“The black pills are wolf’s bane. They prevent you from making the shift if you take it regularly. This is why you need to start taking it again. The full moon is close, and we cannot take chances. You must start taking it again.”
Jack’s mind was reeling. Too large of a realization and too much information at one time, and to top it off, Nadia tells him that she is a werewolf as well? Or did he hear her wrong?? “And you’re a wolf as well?”
“Yes, I too, am a wolf.”
“And this is how you know so much?”
“No,” she answered, smiling at him, cuddling closer. “Many of the things I’ve learned…I’ve only recently learned. I’m a natural wolf. My parents were natural born wolves as well. I’ve never known anything but being a wolf.”
“So, you can shift at will like Rufus was telling me?”
“Yes. And as long as it is not the full moon, I control the wolf.”
“But when the moon is full, you shift whether you want to or not, and then the wolf controls you.”
“Yes.”
“And this will happen to me?”
“No,” she said sternly. “We will keep you taking the bane and you will not shift. You will not like the shift, Jack. The wolf will always have control of you, and never you having control of the wolf. You must keep taking the bane.”
“What if I don’t want to?” he asked, studying her face closely.
“Why would you say such a thing, Jack? Being the wolf is not an enjoyable thing. The wolf will always struggle with your humanity, struggling to dominate who you are. Its aggression will manifest in your daily life.” She pulled away to look him directly in the eyes. “Slowly at first. But the more you shift, and the more the wolf becomes free, the more it will try to steal your life during the times it cannot be free.”
“Okay, so I go back to taking the bane after—”
“No! It does not work that way, Jack.” She was struggling to find the right words. She needed to make him understand that once you crossed the threshold, there was no going back. “Once you make the initial shift, you can never stop it again. No matter how much bane you take, no matter what you do, or whose help you seek, you will never be free of the wolf or the full moon’s power. The shift will take you and you will take the wolf’s form.”
“Forever?”
“Forever,” she said solemnly. “There will be no going back. Even if you lock yourself away as I do on the full moon, even in the darkest of dungeons, the deepest of caves, the moon’s pull will transition you.”
Jack thought about what she said. He pulled her closer to him and he felt her shiver against him. He nodded and wrapped his arms around her. “Okay,” he patted her arm, “I’ll start taking the bane again if it will make you happy.”
She nodded and he could hear her sniffle. He didn’t know why it was so important to her, but it was. He held her like that for a while and once in a while he could feel her shoulders tremble and he imagined she was trying not to cry.
“Nadia, I was just thinking about something.”
“Yes, Jack?” she said, wiping her face.
“If you shift before the full moon, you keep control, right?”
“Yes.”
“Is there a limit on how long you can keep that form?”
Nadia thought for a moment and then answered, “No. I suppose that if we chose, we could live our lives as a wolf and never shift back to human.”
“So, if a natural born wolf shifted when it wasn’t a full moon, and stayed that way…what happens during a full moon if they stay a wolf?” he asked, looking down at her.
Slowly she pulled away from him, thinking to herself. “I do not know, Jack. To my knowledge, nobody has ever tried what you suggest.”
“So we don’t know if a natural wolf would still keep control and have full control of their mind if they shifted prior to the full moon?”
“No. We do not.”
“How long until the full moon?” he asked her, a grin spreading across his face.
Finally! Franklin thought as he took his seat on the commercial flight to Oklahoma City. The commercial flight gave him the opportunity to fly into that nasty state unannounced where he could rent a car and hit the base at the last minute. Mitchell wouldn’t know what hit him. Franklin would call it an impromptu meeting. He’d claim that he had a layover in this god-forsaken state and thought he’d drop by and check in on his pet project. He’d paint on an unfelt smile and pretend that everything was hunky-freaking-dory and go about as if everything was just fine. But the whole time, he’d be looking for any and every opportunity to get access to a secure computer and plug in the little USB device the hacker had delivered to him. The little device looked harmless enough, but even Franklin knew that looks were deceiving. The little electronic doo-dad would be the Monster Squad’s undoing.
As the plane lifted off and took to the skies, the fasten seat belt sign went off and the pilot announced that it was okay for them to get up and stretch their legs about the passenger compartment. First Class was much roomier and the seating more comfortable, so the need to get up wasn’t really necessary. Franklin did unfasten his seat belt, though, and when the flight attendant came by, he lifted his arm.
“Stewardess, I’d like a Jack and Coke, please.”
The flight attendant made an unkind face at the un-PC term, but she brought him the little bottle of Jack Daniels and a can of Coke with a plastic cup filled with ice. Franklin didn’t bother with a ‘thank you’ or a ‘kiss my ass’, he simply popped the tops on both and began mixing. He smiled to himself when he thought of the chain of events that he hoped to unfold.
Plant the device, download the data, get it to the hacker, make the Monster Squad known to the rest of the world, and make it look like they released the information themselves. Paint them to be money wasting military show-offs and then disown them all. Ruin them, publicly, politically, and in the courts of the media.
Ah, it felt like a perfect plan. Nothing short of an act of god could stop him now.
The plane chose that exact moment to hit a small bit of turbulence, and Franklin spilled his drink in his lap. Despite the cold, the spilled drink made it look at as though he had wet himself. And it smelled of cheap alcohol. Just what he needed. He took the small cocktail napkin and dabbed at the spill on his trousers, then stood and headed to the restroom to try to clean the mess better. It was going to take more than a speed bump in the sky to deter Senator Leslie Franklin.