The Werewolf of Marines Trilogy Read online

  Aiden looked back at the guys. Rys was motioning him forward. He looked back at the Lez Queen, wondering if he’d done enough or if the guys expected him to give it another shot.

  “Is that the best you can do?” she said, eyes still forward.

  “Huh?” he replied stupidly.

  “I said, is that the best you can do? That was pretty lame, you know.”

  “Uh . . . yeah . . . well, you know . . .” he said, before admitting, “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry about that.”

  “I was hoping for something a bit more original,” she told him.

  Aiden stared at her. She kept her eyes forward, exercising away on the machine without pause.

  “What do you mean? I mean, why?” he asked her.

  “Well, because you’re you, of course,” she replied as if it was obvious.

  “You know me?”

  She laughed, then answered, “Of course I know you. Everyone knows who you are. You’ve developed quite a rep, as you know. I’ve seen you at the DFAC and here at the gym, and you’ve got an air about you, like you know you are the baddest mother around. You’re like a lion among the sheep here. I don’t know what you said to your friends there, but the black guy, I thought he was going to shit his pants when you were standing there looking at him.”

  Aiden looked back again. Dontrell gave him a thumbs up.

  “Then you start coming over to me, and I’m here wondering if you were going to talk to me, maybe ask me out. But you come and stand like some schoolboy and give me some lame-ass line.”

  Aiden caught on the “asking her out” part. His thoughts rushed back to Teri Brubaker. Hot girls did not go out with him. They pranked him.

  “Look, there, PFC Kaas. I know everyone thinks I’m a lesbian. Do you know the shit I put up with, how many times I get hit on? Guys all think I am here in Iraq for their personal pleasure. I’m a Marine, though, and a damn good one. I don’t need their chicken shit attention, and I told myself I wasn’t going to have any kind of relationship when I was here. So I shoot all of them down and just do my job.”

  “OK, I understand,” Aiden said, and he really did understand. It had to be difficult to be treated professionally when everyone wanted into your pants.

  “But,” she continued, still looking forward, away from Aiden, “we’re getting close to rotation back to the land of the big PX, and when you walked over, I think my resolve started to slip. Then you hit me with that lame shit.”

  Was she hinting that she wanted more, or was their conversation over?

  “If I had asked you out, what would you have said?” Aiden asked. “Given that you don’t want a relationship in Iraq.”

  She stopped stepping and turned to look at him.

  “I’ve always kept my love life and my professional life separate. But I like my men strong with a bad-boy streak. I like a hint of danger, and you, my friend, reek of danger: pure, animalistic danger. Maybe not right this second, but when I see you out and about. So who knows what I would have said?”

  Aiden’s mind swirled. Was he supposed to act? Did he blow his chance? She seemed to be waiting, and as the silent pause lengthened, he thought he saw a flash of disappointment form in her eyes. He had to act, fear of rejection be damned.

  “Well, then, LCpl Record, would you care to join me at the Coffee Bean after chow?” he asked.

  “I’m on duty until 2200,” she said, but hurrying on before he could turn away, “But if you can meet me at MEF then, I would be happy to go with you to the Bean, Aiden.”

  Aiden realized that he’d never given her his name, but she still knew him. That alone was as surprising as the entire turn of events.

  “Well, OK, I’ll meet you there,” he told her. “Thanks.”

  As he turned around and started walking back to the guys, her voice called out loud enough for the others to hear, “See you tonight, Aiden. And you’ll find out that my ‘Lez Queen’ nickname, well, with a real man, that name isn’t too accurate.”

  In front of him, four shocked Marines and a sailor stood, mouths gaping open.

  Chapter 23

  Aiden scrunched in back of the Humvee, his knees too high up for him to be comfortable. One of the problems, at least to him, was that the distance between the back seats and the deck of an up-armored Humvee was too short, so when sitting, his feet weren’t down far enough. It was better in the front seat, but Cpl Ruddy had the front passenger seat. Aiden would rather be manning the .50 cal[39] on the turret where he could stand up, but Snake out-ranked him and took it. It really wasn’t that bad, he knew. It was just that with his full battle rattle on, he couldn’t seem to get comfortable. It sure beat humping, though. He was now carrying a full load when they went out, and that didn’t pose a problem, but sitting with 150 pounds was still better than humping with 150 pounds on his back.

  As they followed in trace of the Humvee in front of them, Aiden wondered at how far he’d come over the last couple of months. From a pariah in the squad, someone barely tolerated, he’d become completely accepted, even someone to whom others looked up to. He was an active member for all their operations, and he was a one of the central figures when back in camp. To most, he was a super warrior, able to kill with his bare hands. To his squad mates, the fact that he had “conquered” the Lez Queen might have given him even more street cred.

  Aiden knew, though, that “conquering” was not that accurate a word. He had met up with Claire a few times, either for meals at the DFAC or at the Coffee Bean. To Aiden’s surprise, he rather liked Claire. She was witty, intelligent, and generally good company. To be sure, he had daydreams about taking her back some night to the police sheds and playing kissy face, but she had set the ground rules early on that she would not break regulations for any reason. She had also hinted that back in the US, the regulations that prohibited intimacy did not exist, so Aiden was content (mostly, that was) to wait.

  He rather liked his new place in life, and he had it all thanks to his patron, some unnamed werewolf who had bit him, then managed to get killed before he could finish Aiden off. It was still hard to believe, and as time went on since he had shifted, it almost became like some sort of dream. Only Hozan kept him grounded. They had met up a few more times. Aiden imagined that Hozan was checking up on him, ready to report back any indiscretion to the Council.

  Another week or so, though, and Aiden would be leaving the sandbox. Their replacement battalion was already on-board. This patrol could even be their last before deploying back.

  It had been a quiet patrol. They were taking out the officers, SNCOs, and a few drivers of one of the incoming platoons, giving them the five-cent tour. They had already reached the furthest checkpoint and were on their way back to the police station where the higher ranks would have tea and snacks with the Iraqis. Then it would be back to camp where Aiden had a tentative coffee date with Claire in the evening.

  Aiden looked out window as they drove along, the armoring making it bulletproof giving it a slight yellowish-greenish tint. It was bright sunlight outside, but the window toned that down. Iraqis walked by, going about their daily business while the convoy of foreign Marines drove by them. As usual, Aiden wondered about them. How many of those people out there would just as soon kill each and every one of them?

  A small boy who couldn’t have been much more than five stood at the side of the road, a soccer ball in his hands. It was a new ball, its cleanliness out of place in the dusty street. Aiden knew the ball had probably been passed out by the MEF’s Civil Affairs Company. In the infantry, the Marines closed with and destroyed the enemy. In Civil Affairs, the Marines tried to bribe the enemy with schools, cell phones, and sporting gear. Aiden really didn’t know what was more effective.

  The boy glanced up, then suddenly wheeled and ran off, leaving his ball in the street. Aiden turned his head to watch him go when the blast rolled by him from the front. Aiden thought they’d been hit, but his Humvee merely shook. The radio chatter suddenly went crazy. Directly in fro
nt of him, Cpl Ruddy opened his door and dashed forward. Aiden was not going to let his team leader go it alone, so he opened his door and ran after him. He was vaguely aware of one of the new unit’s NCOs who had been along in their vehicle getting out and rushing forward, too.

  Directly in front of them, the Humvee that had been preceding them was off to the side of the road and upside down. Smoke still rose from the mangled frame. A crater in the road was all the evidence needed: the Humvee had hit an IED. While rushing forward, Aiden scanned the area. The mujahideen often detonated an IED, then hit those coming to assist the wounded. Aiden couldn’t detect anything. He was tempted to shift right then and there to see if his other senses could pick any danger out.

  The Humvee that had been hit was carrying Second Fire Team. As he rushed up, he could see Dontrell trying to crawl out where a door had used to be. Aiden reached down and grabbed his arm, pulling him out. Most of Dontrell came out, that is. His left leg was gone above the knee. Aiden felt his gorge rise, but he had to control it. He picked up Dontrell and carried him back to where their Humvee provided some protection.

  “Where’s Rico?” Dontrell kept asking half delirious. “I need to go back and get him, and Douglas and D’Amato.”

  Doc Mainz rushed up, took one look at Dontrell, and took over.

  “Go back and help the others. I’ve got Dontrell,” he said, as cool as cool could be.

  Aiden was near panic, but Doc’s demeanor calmed him down. He ran back to the upside down Humvee. Several Marines were already helping Reggie D’Amato out of the driver’s side. He was almost black with soot, and he looked dazed, but he stood up under his own power.

  Another Marine, one of the new guys, was laid out on the street where some other Marines had dragged him. He was dead. He’d been at Fallujah for three days, and he had already paid the price. Aiden didn’t know him, but still, he was a fellow Marine. Another corpsman was working on Cpl Douglas, who didn’t look too good. He was being tended, so Aiden kept looking for Rico. Rico had been the turret gunner, so he could have been blown clear. Aiden scanned the area. A shout from the Humvee brought him back. Rico was still in the vehicle, pinned.

  Someone crawled inside, and then came back out screaming that Rico need immediate help. A couple of Marines rushed to the side and tried to lift the Humvee, but it was too heavy, and they called for someone to radio for a wrecker. The three Marines hadn’t come close to budging the Humvee, but Aiden rushed up.

  “You guys almost had it,” he told them. “Give it one more shot.”

  Aiden joined them as the sergeant gave the “one, two three” command. Aiden strained, Hozan’s warning about giving away signs of his strength be damned. The side of the wreck lifted off the ground, and the four of them were able to get it up on its side. The other three Marines expressed amazement at their adrenalin boost.

  When Aiden looked down, his heart fell. Rico had been crushed when the vehicle had flipped. His legs and waist were still whole, but his chest and head were raw hamburger meat. Aiden would not have been able to recognize his friend had he not known for sure it was him. One arm seemed obscenely untouched, attached only by strands to the rest of the mess that had been his friend.

  Numb, Aiden turned, trying to control himself as he walked back to his Humvee where Doc was still stabilizing Dontrell. Doc had controlled the bleeding and had an IV dripping.

  “Kaas,” Dontrell, still conscious, asked as Aiden approached.

  “Yeah, buddy, you hang in there,” he said on autopilot, his mind reeling from what had happened.

  “Kaas, you got to check for me. Is it still there?”

  “Is what still there?” he asked, Dontrell’s question forcing him out of his shock.

  “His dick,” Doc said. “He keeps wanting to know if his dick is still there. He doesn’t want to believe me.”

  “You gotta tell me, Kaas. Doc, he just wants me to be calm, so he’s going to say anything. You’ll tell me what is what, right? You need to tell me if I’ve still got my junk, you know?”

  The Marine Corps flak jacket had a groin protector that could be attached to it, looking like someone had stolen a baseball home plate and hung it in front of the Marine’s crotch. It was uncomfortable when humping, and in a vehicle, it was just too bulky. More than a few Marines never wore it. Dontrell never did, saying his “junk was just too big to be contained.”

  Aiden looked over at Doc, who flipped over one hand as if to say go ahead. Aiden edged over and looked above the missing part of the leg. Doc had cut away Dontrell’s trou, and for a moment, Aiden couldn’t see anything given the amount of blood and Dontrell’s dark complexion. Then he saw it, hanging weakly from his crotch, but looking whole.

  “Doc’s right. Everything’s there, the whole package,” he told them.

  “Oh God, thank you, thank you,” Dontrell mumbled as he started to drift off from whatever Doc might have given him.

  Aiden looked back at the still smoldering wreck. He’d just lost a friend, one of his few friends in the world. One of his other friends had lost his leg. Anger began to build up in him, anger that threatened to take over. He thought he could feel his bones start to shift. He struggled to fight the shift. Everything screamed for the release, to change to his new form and go on a rampage, but the sane part of his mind struggled to gain control. A shift now, in front of everyone, could not have a happy ending. Even if his fellow Marines didn’t kill him, when word got back to the Council, there was no doubt as to what they would order be done. Aiden had to keep his human form.

  If anyone had been looking right at him, they would have thought that some sort of heat wave rising up from the street had made his face seem like it was melting for a moment. They might have blinked once or twice before the Marine standing in front of them looked normal again.

  Aiden shuddered as he gained control of himself. When he almost shifted, though, an odd smell had hit him. He couldn’t place it, but as he looked at the crater, he somehow knew that it was connected to the IED. If he could trace that smell, he could find the bomb makers.

  Chapter 24

  Aiden stood alongside one of the Motor T garages, looking out over the open area to the fence. A guard tower was in front of him and off to the right. The “Ghurka” guards would be on duty, but their focus should be out over the wire and into no man’s land. Aiden knew that they weren’t the real Ghurkas of legend but merely contracted guards, used to free up Marines for actual fighting. Many weren’t even from Nepal but from various African countries; however, the “Ghurka” label seemed to stick.

  He gave one more glance back in the direction of camp. He was not committed yet. He could still turn around and go back with no one the wiser.

  It hadn’t been difficult to convince the others that he needed time alone. Most of the squad was in a state of shock. Rico was dead. Cpl Douglas had been medivac’d to Balad, and for all Aiden knew, he could be dead, too. Dontrell lost his leg. One of the new incoming NCOs was dead. They were less than a week from going home, and in one explosion, they had more casualties than in the entire time they’d spent in-country.

  He’d told Cpl Ruddy that he had to spend time at the chapel. As long as no one else went to find him there, Aiden figured he had the night free. No one would question his absence from their squadbay.

  Aiden focused back to the situation in front of him. He was pretty sure he could get up to the fence unnoticed. After that, though, he knew he had a problem. The area outside the fence was heavily sensored. No one, no matter how stealthy, could approach the fence without setting the sensors off. He couldn’t figure out a way to avoid the sensors, so he decided that he’d have to rely on pure speed to mitigate the signals they put out and how quickly the defenders could react.

  If he was going to do this, he had to get going. No more procrastination. He took off his boots and socks, then his blouse. He didn’t want them destroyed. He kept on his trousers, and keeping in mind that he was not invincible, kept his flak jacket, but
unfastened so his chest had room to expand. Part of him wanted to go out without weapons, relying on teeth and claw, but common sense prevailed. He placed his M16 on the ground beside him, and made sure the four grenades were secure in the flak jacket equipment loops.

  It was time. He sat down and closed his eyes, trying to picture himself as a werewolf. He still wasn’t too sure just how to initiate the change, so he thought back to Hozan’s words trying to get him back to human form. He was pretty sure it had to work the same way for human to varg.

  Aiden thought he felt something stir within him, but he didn’t shift. He tried to force it by will alone, but nothing happened. Twenty minutes later, he opened his eyes, still a human. He wasn’t quite sure what he was doing wrong.

  He thought back to that first time he shifted. What was going on? How had he felt? It was anger. Anger and fear. Those keyed that first shift. Hozan had stressed that a calm, focused mind was key, but Aiden had been anything but calm and focused the first time he shifted.

  He let his mind drift back to the morning, the hot, dusty ride, the boy with the soccer ball, the explosion. He was pulling Dontrell out of the Humvee again, his bloody stump leaving a blood trail in the road. He was pushing the Humvee over, revealing the mangled mass that had been Rico. His rage started to grow, anger that his friends had been killed, anger at the cowards who did this from afar, too afraid to meet them head on. He wanted revenge, he wanted to kill those who dared to attack his squad mates, his tribe. His fingers curled as he imagined pulling heads from bodies.

  As his anger swept through him in a pyroclastic flow, he felt his body start to change. He almost hesitated, remembering the pain, before he opened up to it. He had failed to protect his friends, so he deserved the pain.

  His body began to shift, and unable to restrain himself, he opened his eyes to see. The shift didn’t stop. His arms started growing longer and more defined, hair sprouting. He could feel his chest get bigger and his nose became visible in front of his eyes.