Return of the Phoenix - 01 (20 page)

“Oh my fucking God…” someone muttered.

“Then he hears the orphans screaming and he knew some of them got past him and got into his church,” Apollo said, his face solemn. “There were three of them. And they feasted on those kids before Hank could get back in to stop them. It damn near killed him losing those kids.”

“No doubt,” Mueller said, thinking of his own son back home.

“Anyway, the worst part was, one of the dead vamps fell into the town well,” Apollo said, his eyes searching the others and seeing the horror spread across their faces. “By the time the squad and the cleanup crew got there, it was too late. Hank and seven other people were all that survived from the entire town. Nearly a hundred and thirty people all gone from start to finish.”

“No wonder he snapped during the presentation,” Marshall said softly. “He lived through a nightmare.”

“When the squads arrived and the cleanup crews were trying to do their thing, Hank shows up and tells the squad leader that he’s coming back with us. The squad leader tells Hank politely to go back to his church and do whatever it is that preachers do and Hank laid him out on his ass.” Apollo smiled, rubbing his chin. “Even with all of the training, augmentation and strength enhancements, he not only held his own, but got the upper hand. When the squad leader got his feet back under him and tried to retaliate, Hank disarmed him, took his knife and put him back on his ass. Then he told him, ‘if you people hunt these monsters, then I’m coming with you.’  The other squad members were about to put him down, but the squad leader ordered them to stand down. He saw the pain in his eyes…how broken he was from the attack. So we had a chat with the colonel. They pulled his service jacket from back in the day and Hank got a ride back with us. The rest is history.”

“That must have been some squad leader,” Lamb said. “I think if it had been me, I would have painted the wall with his brains.”

“Yeah, well, when the weather changes, my jaw still hurts,” Apollo said, cracking a toothy smile. “But I don’t regret it one bit. The man is a walking Cuisinart with a blade. Give him his machete and his
katana
in a fight and he’s more deadly than any three people with carbines.” The others shot him shocked glances. “I once watched him slice open a vampire from nutsack to forehead with one motion.
That
shit is impressive.”

“Super warrior or not, I have a newfound respect for the man,” Ing said.

18

Franklin walked the halls toward his office, feeling the eyes of his peers on him. Somehow, he felt, they knew his dirty little secret, but they couldn’t. Nobody knew but himself and the redhead at the hotel, and she kept calling him Stewart. Thankfully, she…he…it? What should he call her? Regardless, she didn’t recognize him, or know his name. His secret was safe.

Sex scandals were not uncommon on the Hill, but a hom
osexual sex scandal for a heterosexual senator from the Bible-belt would ruin him both politically and financially. He slipped past the front and into his office, ignoring his secretary. She tried to catch up with him, but he wanted nothing to do with her. He shut the door on her and locked it as she continued to attempt to talk to him through the door. He’d deal with her later. He could feel himself trying to panic and he needed to calm himself.

It was barely 9AM, but he desperately needed a drink. His hands shook as he poured the Jack into the crystal. When he reached for the Coke, memories of the Ritz Carlton room and the redhead flooded back to him. Flashes of her splayed across his bed, her auburn hair spilled across the pillow, her round hip sli
pping from the sheets, the flash of breast just showing in the crack of light through the curtains. He felt a growing twinge of excitement in his loin and he practically dropped the soda at his own surprise at himself. He shouldn’t feel want for a person like that. She wasn’t a
she
for shit’s sake! She had a
cock
! Not just a cock, but a
huge
, swinging cock that dwarfed his own. That just wasn’t right…on so many levels. It was bad enough that such a seductive and gorgeous creature should even
have
a penis, but even more wrong that she should have one so large!

Franklin forced himself to calm his hands and pour the soda into his glass. He gulped the drink down and made another. He went to his desk and sat down hard. Resting his head in his hands, he couldn’t shake the image of the redhead. What she had done to him…that he could remember…and how much he e
njoyed it. He kept seeing her eyes, the curve of her jaw, the lines of her face. The shape of her ass haunted him, taunting his memories. She was so…fucking
perfect
…except for that damned dick! He reached for his drink and slammed it back hard.

He reclined in his chair and swiveled back and forth.
Maybe with enough whiskey I could convince myself it was just a huge clit?
He joked with himself and chuckled, then shook his head to clear it. What the hell was he thinking?! Why was he allowing himself to be so enamored with this…person?

His intercom buzzed. Franklin jumped at the noise then sighed to himself. He wouldn’t be able to put off his secretary forever. “What is it, Ellen?”

“The jeweler called, sir. Your Rolex is repaired and ready,” she replied.

Franklin glanced at his wrist. The Patek Phillipe was still strapped to it. His Rolex hadn’t been on his dresser so he put the Patek back on this morning. He knew it was ‘wrong’ but…he couldn’t put his finger on ‘why’. “Which jeweler was it?”

“Sir?”

“Which jeweler called, Ellen? I don’t know where my fuc
king watch is!” he yelled at the box.

“Huguley’s, sir. In Annapolis.” Ellen sounded as if she were about to cry. Surely she thought her boss was losing his mind.

“Thank you, Ellen.”

Franklin looked up the number and called the repair shop. After a brief conversation, he discovered that he had the crystal repaired and the watch cleaned and serviced. They had to ‘r
emind’ the good senator that the crystal must have taken a pretty good blow to be cracked that badly. When Franklin hung up, his head was throbbing. Why did he have no memory of his watch going to the jeweler? He had even paid extra for them to expedite the repairs. He felt wrong without the Rolex on his wrist, and he couldn’t remember any part of it. He stood from his desk and felt lightheaded. Surely it was the whiskey at such an early hour and on an empty stomach. He looked around the office, but everything seemed in its place. Perhaps it occurred at home? But when he finally looked completely behind him, he saw it. The family photo was broken. The last family photo taken before his wife announced she was diagnosed with cancer…Damien was so little…and the glass was broken.

But how?

His head was killing him, but Franklin had to have answers. The watch. Maybe having it back would stir a memory? He left his briefcase and his overcoat. Taking only his suit jacket, he stepped outside into the outer office. “Ellen, I’m going to pick up my watch. I’ll be back later.”

“Your schedule is still cleared until tomorrow, sir, so you should be okay,” she said.

Franklin paused at the outer door. “Tomorrow?”

“Yes, sir. You had me clear your schedule? Until tomo
rrow…”

Franklin nodded. “Yes. Of course I did.” Then he headed out of the door.

*****

A tech knocked rapidly on Colonel Mitchell’s door. “Come!” Matt bellowed and the tech nearly tripped over himself coming into the office. Mitchell looked up from the stack of r
eports on his desk. “What is it?”

“Troll, sir,” the tech said, his face pale. “Double verified, and close to a populated area.” He sounded out of breath. He must have run all the way to the colonel’s office.

Matt stood from his desk. “Location?”

“Kansas, sir!” the tech sounded surprised. “Usually they’ll show up somewhere near a coastal area, sir. Wash up onshore or something, but
this
far inland? It’s unheard of, colonel.”

Mitchell grabbed his two-way and keyed it. “Alert. Ready Squad One. All hands to Operations.”

Almost immediately, red lights along the wall began flashing and a claxon began blaring through all levels of the facility. Mitchell took the report and began scanning it as he and the tech headed to the Operations Command Center where Laura met him in the hallway. “Colonel?”

“Trolls in Kansas. I’ve got First Squad gearing up. Prep us a fast runner so the boys can chute in on this thing and drop it b
efore it gets into a population center.”

“Kansas is pretty close, sir. We could use helicopters and be able to transport…”

“Negative. This thing is headed for a town, XO, and I want it dropped before it gets in front of too many sets of eyes. It’s going to be hard enough to explain as it is,” he said. “How we got a fucking troll this far inland without being noticed beats the dog shit out of me, but the son-of-a-bitch is here and I don’t intend to let it get any further than we have to. I want eyes on the subject ASAP and I want it fed to OpCom so we can see what the hell we’re dealing with.”

“Yes, sir.”

*****

First Squad was quickly gearing up in the locker room and about to head out on their first mission since the new members were added to the ranks. Apollo had chosen Lamb, Jacobs, and Tracy to join himself, Donovan, Gonzalez, and the Padre to form First Squad. It had been a tough decision not to include Sanchez, but Second Squad needed her abilities both as a sniper and as an entry team member a lot more than he needed to satisfy the d
esire to keep her safe. And when it came down to it, he knew that she could take care of herself and having her on his team would only distract him from the mission.

With the men all geared up, they headed to the armory to r
eceive their weapon assignments. As Apollo followed his team out the door, Sanchez grabbed him by his tactical vest and pulled him aside. She had to practically climb him like a tree to plant a kiss on him. “You come back in one piece, you hear me, soldier?!”

Apollo smiled down at her. “Yes, ma’am,” he said and gave her a mock salute. Then, with one more quick kiss, he jogged to catch up with his team.

Most of the men were loading P90 magazines into their vest and BDU pockets, pistol magazines into side magazine pockets and flash-bang and concussion grenades into satchels. Fragmentation grenades went into a separate satchel to prevent getting mixed up in the heat of battle. Lamb looked up and noticed that the Padre only loaded up on phosphorus grenades and frags. Lamb, Mueller, and Tracy were loading up their fifty-round M4 magazines, and Tracy actually sighed when he hefted the M4 in his hands. Training is one thing, but knowing you are about to go into battle with a weapon platform you knew like the back of your hand, it just set his mind at ease. Lamb nudged him and nodded at Hank who was scratching a cross onto each of his grenades before placing them into his satchel. Gus shrugged, “Whatever works for him, brother.”

“Amen to that,” Lamb said as he loaded a magazine and slapped the bottom to ensure it was seated.

First Squad double timed out to a freight elevator and began the ride up to the hangar. Along the way, Laura briefed them of the threat in Kansas. Apollo groaned. “The only thing worse than a fucking troll is a damned hydra,” he said.

“Why’s that?” Jacobs asked.

Popo answered for him. “Their skin is like armor and they’re too stupid to realize they’re being attacked. Once they
do
realize it, they get mad as hell and destroy everything. Then they’re even harder to kill.”

“Head shot with AP ammo?” Lamb asked.

“Brain is too small,” Apollo said. “Like shooting through a tank to hit a matchbook, and you have to hit it
dead-on
to truly kill it.”

“And they’re fucking huge,” Donovan added.

“Wait. How big is ‘fucking huge’?” Tracy asked.

Apollo was double-checking his gear and never looked up. “Anywhere from three to five stories tall, depending on the type. They’ve been known to eat entire cows in one bite as a snack.” Finally he looked up and smiled. “Let’s just hope it isn’t a rock troll.”

“Do I want to know?” Tracy asked.

“Thicker skin, uglier, smellier, thicker skulls, smaller brains. Basically, everything that makes a troll hard to kill, they have in spades,” Apollo said. “Oh…and they can go through the ground faster than a duck through water. Leaves a helluva mess.”

“Great.” Tracy sighed. “Anybody want to lay odds on the type of troll we’re about to see?”

“Twenty bucks says it’s a rock troll,” Lamb said, his face like stone.

“I’ll take that action,” Apollo challenged just as the freight elevator opened.

Laura stepped out waved the loaded out crew ahead of the squad. “Good luck, and remember to keep your coms open. The colonel will have visual set up for us ASAP and I’ll get a feed to you en route.” She got a thumbs-up from Apollo as they loaded into the short bus and began rolling to the runway.

Laura went to the other end of the large hangar and entered the secured area. Techs were prepping the computers and workstations for the new drones as she entered. “Are they ready?”

“Ma’am, we literally
just
took them off the truck. I’m not even sure if they’re flight worthy.”

“These were detoured from a shipment headed to Iraq, they should be ready to go,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am, I understand that, but even then, they have to go through a prep period, a shakedown run…I don’t know if we can just throw them into action.” The tech said in exasperation.

“Make it happen.” She glared.

“We’re giving It our best, ma’am. Honestly.”

Laura went to the far wall and picked up the internal phones. She keyed OpCom. “Get me the colonel.” She waited until Mitchell picked up. “Colonel, we may not have air support from the drones. We may need to send the Apaches.”

Matt really wanted to keep the Apaches out of this one, but made the call best suited to keep his squad safe. “Get ‘em up and over there Laura. Make sure they’re armed to the teeth, too. Send ‘em both.”

“Yes, sir.”

Laura stepped out of the secured area and pointed at the Monster Squad’s pilots. She spun her fingers in the air and both men gave a single nod. Both pilots turned to gather their co-pilots who were still gearing up and all four men took the team’s Humvee to the helipad and their waiting Apache attack helicopters. First Squad would have air support, even if it was a few minutes later than Mitchell wanted. Although the Apaches were fast and would be leaving before the plane took off, the plane would pass the helicopters in little time to get to northern Kansas in record time. The plane would then reduce air speed, fly lower in the atmosphere, and First Squad would parachute into the area and engage the troll. The last troll that the squads faced was along the western coast of Mexico. The team fought the beast for nearly an hour, expending most of their ammunition to turn the beast’s attention from a nearby village before the Apaches flew in and shoved a rocket up its ass. Literally. As the rocket was fired, the troll happened to turn and bend down to pick up a squad member. The rocket hit the troll right in the butt and blew it’s intestines out through its belly. Needless to say, the cleanup crew was not happy that day. They used bulldozers commandeered from a nearby construction site to assist in the cleanup.