DRAMA NOVEL ONLINE Alpha’s Moon: Chapter 5
Deke
The wind whips over the rocks and cleaves a path through our camp. The frozen breeze slices through my thin jacket. If I were human, I’d be shivering, but my shifter blood keeps me warm. Snow crunches under my boots as I make my way to Sierra One, the highest sniper position in our mission. Lance is already there on his belly, peering through his rifle scope down at the fancy ass chalet. We’re deep in the Swiss Alps, high above our target.
My radio crackles, and Rafe’s voice says, “Sierra One, this is TOC. You got eyes on Tango?”
“TOC, this is Sierra One,” I respond. “No movement yet.” Several hundred yards below our stakeout perch, the mansion is lit up like a candle, each window emanating a soft warm glow. Nestled in the side of the mountain, surrounded by snow-dusted pines, the castle looks like it’s part of a Christmas village set. One of those kitschy toy ones grandmas put out around the holidays, with mounds of cotton balls to make fake snow. Except this place is real. Twenty-five thousand square feet of luxury housing, inhabited by the most successful black market arms dealer in the world. Gabriel Dieter, a guy who makes a living being pure evil.
“Should we move in closer?” Lance asks me softly, his eyes still trained on the target.
“We’d better not.” The mission is surveillance only. Getting close could cause us to engage when we’re just here to watch.
Of course, my wolf hates that. Just being on a mission brings on blust lust. My wolf wants to tear down the mountains, howling, take on the mansion security—guards, dogs, lasers—find Dieter and rip the Tango’s head off. Mission accomplished. Which is why my alpha’s concerned I’m not stable and sane.
“Movement, front left. Near the pool,” Lance reports.
I lift the radio to my mouth. “TOC, we have movement. Eyes on Tango.” I report the subject’s movements. Gabriel Dieter is set to meet with a contingent from an unknown terrorist force. We’re here to spy on the meeting, record Gabriel’s movements and get any evidence we can of his illegal arms deals.
But first it looks like the man’s going to use his fancy schmancy outdoor pool. Dieter walks out of the glass conservatory. He’s a tall man, fit. A head full of dark hair with no sign of going grey or his body going to seed. Of course, anyone would be fit and toned if they had enough money to hire an army of cosmetic surgeons. Evil pays.
“Deke,” Lance calls, and I realize my chest is rumbling with a growl. My wolf wants off the chain. I slide my hand into my pocket and touch my phone. It’s become a habit, and it all started with Sadie’s call a week ago.
She’s taken to texting me every other day. A smiley emoji, a joke. “Happy Monday,” she sent an hour ago, along with a picture of a cheerfully smiling sun. “Hope you have a great week.” I shake my head at her optimism.
Reading her texts helps focus me. Just swiping a thumb over the smooth phone screen is enough to instantly calm my wolf.
I gotta get a grip. What would Sadie think about the things my wolf has done? What he wants to do? That thought sobers me.
“Movement in the house. Far right wing. Base of the turret.”
I grab a pair of binoculars and check out the side of the mansion Lance is referring to. A door opens and black clad men are pouring out, each armed with tactical gear. Boots, knee pads, helmets and balaclava masks over their faces. And giant guns.
“Fuck.” I swivel and get eyes on Gabriel Dieter again. The business mogul stands beside the pool, water dripping off his muscled chest. He raises a hand and waves right at me.
“Bastard.” I toss the binoculars in the bag. “He knows we’re here. Move out.”
Lance is already on his feet. He has his rifle, I have our bags. We turn and race up the mountain.
The radio squawks. “We’ve been made,” I holler into it.
Three hundred yards below us, men stream in coordinated lines up the mountains towards us.
“Abort mission. Get to high ground,” Rafe orders.
Barking fills the air.
“They got dogs,” Lance announces the obvious, and picks up his pace. We pound over the ice slick rocks, climbing the mountain peak. The air is thin, and my lungs burn, struggling to adapt. My legs scream for more energy while my head gets light.
“Come on, Deke,” Lance calls. “Race you to the summit.”
I push myself to climb faster. The snarls of the guard’s dogs echo around us. They’re getting closer. I hope our alpha’s planned a surprise exit; otherwise, I don’t know how this ends well.
My boots skid on black ice, and I halt, considering. I should stand my ground, give Lance a chance to escape. This is the way I could go out a hero. No one but my packmates would mourn my death.
And Sadie…
“Deke, what the fuck are you doing?” Lance skids to a halt a few yards ahead. Behind us the shouts and scrape of the militia’s boots and barks of the dogs grow closer.
But there’s another sound, this one up ahead. A thuk-thuk-thuk of helicopter blades.
Lance’s face splits into a grin. “Sonofabitch,” he murmurs. “He’s done it again.” We both turn and race up the mountain, headed for the snowy ridge as the bird appears, hovering over the summit.
“Heard you needed a ride,” the pilot shouts over the din of the helicopter blades.
Rafe sticks his head out of the side and throws down a ladder. “Get the hell up here.”
Lance leaps on the ladder and starts climbing. The militia chasing us shouts, and I grab the bottom of the ladder. Any second now, they’ll start shooting. It’s a miracle they haven’t started already. Guess Deiter didn’t think to ready any long range guns.
A few heartbeats later, Rafe and Channing haul me into the chopper, and the pilot spirits us away.
“What the fuck happened?” Rafe asks.
“He had eyes on us,” I tell him. “He knew we were there.”
Rafe curses. “I can’t believe this.”
“Is there a leak on our end?” Lance asks.
“No one knew about this except Colonel Johnson and our team. Deiter knew we were going to be there. Somehow, he knew.” I can hear Rafe’s teeth grinding.
Rafe growls and pulls out his phone. As soon as he’s in range, he’ll report to Colonel Johnson: Mission Aborted. We failed, but we’ll live to try again another day.
When we’re back at HQ, I pull up my phone and check to see if Sadie’s texted me. I don’t even have a picture of her, only her name and number saved in my Contacts folder, but seeing her name makes me scent her candy sweetness.
“Deke’s texting his girlfriend,” Lance singsongs.
I bare my teeth at him, and he chuckles and elbows Channing. “I’ll bet you twenty bucks says he has her under him by full moon.”
I don’t think, I don’t pause. Red washes over my vision, and the next thing I know, I’m on top of Lance. He’s on the floor, and I’m pounding him with my fists.
“What the fuck,” Channing shouts and tackles me, dragging me off of Lance. Lance’s pretty face is bruised and bleeding, but the fucker is laughing hysterically. I push Channing away and retreat to the corner, trying to get my wolf under control.
“Settle down,” Rafe orders as if we’re kids roughhousing on a playground instead of three fully grown werewolves trying to kill each other.
“Well, you can’t say this wasn’t fun,” Lance grins at me, his teeth streaked red. He’s as crazy as I am, he just hides it better.
“Plane’s almost here. Get cleaned up, so we can go,” Rafe orders.
“Any other missions?” Channing asks Rafe.
“Nope. Next few weeks are quiet. Two security gigs and some surveillance. Oh,” Rafe shoots a glance in my direction, “and visiting Sadie Diaz’s kindergarten class.”
My heart thumps when I hear her name. My wolf gets agitated in a new way. A far more frisky way.
Once I’m on the plane and strapped in, I reach into my pocket and find my phone. I swipe my thumb across the surface, touching it like a talisman.
The aftermath of battle has always been hard on my wolf. I’ve been honed into a killing machine, and it’s difficult to come back to civilian life. The bloodlust, the need for battle hums in my veins.
But when I’m with Sadie, all that pressure lightens. I forget that I’m a killer. I can remember that my wolf isn’t just a weapon, he’s a wild creature, and there’s more to life than fighting.