Prisoner (Werewolf Marines) (23 page)

“Didn’t they give you armor?” DJ asked,
horrified. “Is that some fucked-up game they’re playing with you?
I’m not wearing mine if you don’t have any.”

“No, they did.” Echo opened the duffel bag,
showing it to him. “But it weighs me down. I fight better without
it, honestly.”

“Ty has an M-2010,” DJ reminded her. “You’re
not going to get close enough to fight him without it.”

“I was thinking you could distract him while
I sneak up behind him,” Echo said. “You don’t do much sneaking, do
you?”

“People generally hear me coming,” DJ
admitted. “I’m not crazy about splitting up, though. Especially
since we don’t even know where everyone else is.”

“We can survey the area and try to figure
that out,” Echo said. “Ideally, we take Guadalupe out first, from a
distance. She’s the most lethal. On the positive side, she’s not
very mobile.”

“Small blessings.”

Mr. Dowling banged on the door. “Are you two
dressed? What are you doing in there?”

“Strategizing,” Echo called, then plastered a
glare over her face when Mr. Dowling came in. DJ made sure to get
one on too.

“Put on your body armor,” Mr. Dowling
ordered.

Echo complied, though DJ was sure she’d strip
it off as soon as they were out of sight. He wished he knew whether
she’d made a cool assessment of pros and cons, or was simply
reckless.

Mr. Dowling escorted them to armory, where
they collected their rifles and dart guns. DJ noted its location
and did a hasty inventory. He also memorized the way to the secret
exit Mr. Dowling led them to. Echo had been right: his chances had
improved now that he’d started going on missions. Once he figured
out where Roy was, he could easily grab what he needed and get the
hell out of there.

Leaving Echo behind.

Mr. Dowling opened a concealed door via
hidden retina scanner. As they got the rest of their equipment
together, he briefed them on the powers and capabilities of the
made wolves.

DJ stole a glance at Echo. She was covered
from head to toe, boots to bulky body armor to gloves to helmet. He
could see nothing of her athletic figure and barely any of her
elegant features. As she’d said, the armor did weigh her down and
rob her movements of her usual grace. Except for the crystal
clarity of her eyes, more blue than the most perfect summer sky,
she looked like any sister Marine.

Never leave anyone behind.

He’d have to leave Roy, or he’d have to leave
Echo. They’d both saved him, but he couldn’t save them both.

Roy was imprisoned and terribly wounded, deep
down to the heart and soul, completely apart from the shrapnel. He
needed DJ.

Echo was hurting too, but she could make her
own choices. She
had
made her choices, and DJ couldn’t argue
with them. Of course she’d sacrifice herself for her sister. That
was what family meant. She liked DJ, and he was glad of that. But
she didn’t need him.

DJ had to go. Echo couldn’t go. Once he left,
he could never come back. However DJ circled round his dilemma, he
always came back to the same place. And he always hit with nearly
physical force, like crashing into a brick wall.

He supposed it could be worse. Imagine if she
was his mate! Then he’d be like a wolf in one of the old tragic
stories, separated from his true love by cruel fate.

DJ was lucky he hadn’t fallen in love with
her. Probably lots of men would have, if they’d been in his shoes.
Probably DJ would have too, if he hadn’t realized early on that it
would be doomed and would break his heart. Even apart from the
“trapped in a secret evil lab” aspect, she only saw him as a
friend. And there was nothing more annoying than being stuck in
close proximity with someone you weren’t into who was stuck on
you.

It wasn’t just that Echo was beautiful,
though she was. More than beautiful: she was absolutely stunning.
DJ had never used to be a fan of that type of beauty, all long legs
and angular bone structure and shades of pale. It made him think of
supermodels nibbling lettuce in between shooting ads for high
heels. He couldn’t imagine having a relationship with that kind of
woman. They’d have nothing to talk about. He couldn’t even conceive
of having sex with that imaginary supermodel. He’d probably break
her nail.

But Echo had only seemed icy and unreal for
the first two seconds he’d laid eyes on her. After that, he’d seen
what was beneath the beauty: warmth and playfulness and caring,
bitterness and anger and grief, love and courage and a dogged
tenacity to match DJ’s own.

And she liked Gloc-9.

And she bantered.

And he was going to leave and never see her
again.

Bam. Brick wall.

“Are you listening, Torres?” Mr. Dowling
barked.

Reflexively, DJ said, “Yes, sir!”

Both Mr. Dowling and Echo stared at him.

“What did I just say?” Mr. Dowling
inquired.

“You were briefing us on the mission,” DJ
replied.

“
Specifically
, what did I just
say?”

DJ had been completely checked out, but Mr.
Dowling was holding an EpiPen and had a box of them in his other
hand. “You were explaining how to use the EpiPens, in case we get
tagged by Amber. Take off the safety cap, jam the orange end into
your thigh until it clicks, hold for five seconds, then wait a
minute or so and see if symptoms improve. If they don’t, use
another one. Then rush to a hospital.”

Echo laughed. Mr. Dowling looked torn between
annoyance and grudging approval.

“What?” DJ asked. He’d been so sure that was
it.

“I asked if you were familiar with EpiPens,”
Mr. Dowling said. “Obviously, the answer is yes.”

“My whole unit was trained in first aid,” DJ
explained.

He tucked half the EpiPens into an easy-reach
pouch and handed the rest to Echo. As she put hers away, he noticed
that one of the straps on her pack was loose. It was an awkward
area to reach, so he tightened it for her.

As he straightened up, he caught Mr.
Dowling’s eye and remembered that he was supposed to hate her.
“God, you’re careless.”

“
I’m
careless?” Echo retorted.
“
You’re
the one who spaced out in the mission briefing.”

“Good luck,” Mr. Dowling said. It sounded
exactly like “Good riddance.”

He opened the door, letting in a rush of cool
night air. DJ inhaled deeply. He hadn’t realized how much he’d
missed the outside until that moment.

“Come on, Torres. Don’t drag your feet.” Echo
walked out without a backward glance.

DJ hurried after her, hastily scanning the
area for threats. He saw none, though in that desert landscape of
boulders and rock formations, canyons and caves, anyone could be
hiding anywhere. Though based on the pack’s behavior the last time
they’d gone nuts, he doubted they’d be stealthy.

The moon was full and huge, golden as a
pirate’s coin. There was no light spill, so the sky was black as
engine oil and the stars were a spray of white-hot sparks. He could
even see the hazy sweep of the Milky Way. Sand and gravel crunched
beneath his feet, and the dry air was untainted with chemicals.

He was outdoors on a beautiful night, he had
a mission, and he had Echo beside him. It was impossible not to be
happy.

DJ took off his rucksack, helmet, and
weapons, which were too bulky to shift with him, and became a wolf.
He lifted his nose to the night, but the air was too dry for him to
scent the pack. All he could smell was dust and sand and minerals,
and Echo’s incongruous scent of green leaves and clear water. It
was as if he was just out of sight of an oasis.

Cool fingers came down on his back. Lechon
twitched in surprise, then bent his head to offer Echo a tempting
angle. To his delight, she took the bait and scratched behind his
ears. Obviously, he needed to be a wolf more often. He couldn’t
resist nuzzling the curve of her hip.

She gave him a final scratch, running her
fingers through his fur as if she liked the texture, then said,
“Did you scent anyone?”

Reluctantly, he shifted back. “No. In air
like this, I’d have to be right on top of them.”

“I didn’t see anyone in the infrared,” Echo
reported as he put his gear back on. “But I’ll climb that and see
if I can get a better vantage point.”

She indicated the huge rock formation nearby.
They ducked behind it. Echo promptly took off her pack and started
removing her armor.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything between
you and the M-2010?” DJ asked. “What about just the helmet?”

“Ugh, no.” Echo yanked it off and shook out
her hair. It glimmered in the moonlight. As DJ watched,
incredulous, she stripped off her boots and her loose camouflage
shirt and pants, revealing sand-colored moccasins, jeans, and— of
course— a tank top.

“You should be the spokesperson for Tank Tops
of America,” DJ remarked. “Do you ever wear anything else?”

“They’re comfortable. I can move in them. And
they come in all colors.” She poked him in the body armor. “You
should try one sometime. Show off your shoulders.”

Did Echo just flirt with me?
DJ
wondered. He quickly dismissed the thought. She was probably just
teasing him. And if she wasn’t, he didn’t want to think about it
now. That would be a get-you-killed-level distracting thought.

“Let’s review the plan,” DJ said.

“Don’t you remember it?”

“I want to make sure nothing got added or
subtracted while I was busy daydreaming.”

A little smile hovered at Echo’s lips. “What
were you daydreaming about?”

DJ couldn’t tell her, but he didn’t want to
lie to her. “Supermodels.”

Echo snickered, then took out a GPS device
and indicated Ty’s position, then their own. “Assuming I don’t see
anyone from here, we cut behind this ridge to his mesa. We’ll be
shielded and he’ll never see us coming. We split up at the fork. I
signal you with the buzzer when I’m in position. You throw
flash-bang grenades to catch his attention. I climb the mesa and
shoot him with the dart gun. Then I survey the area, see if I can
spot anyone, and radio you. Depending on what I see, we go after
them separately, we go after them together, or we meet up and
search.”

“Check.” Then, unable to resist, DJ added,
“Are you
sure
you don’t want to throw the flash-bangs while
I climb the mesa? Since you’re set on not wearing armor…”

“Hold this.” Echo handed him the GPS.

Without warning, she sprang at the sheer wall
of red granite beside them. Echo flew upward, stuck way above DJ’s
head with her fingers and toes jammed into completely invisible
crannies, then climbed up with astonishing speed. He still had his
mouth hanging open in awe when she reached the top.

He expected her to flatten herself and crawl
over to avoid being spotted, but to his alarm, she began to stand
up. Then she froze in a wary crouch, like a cougar waiting to leap
on unsuspecting prey. She must have seen something. DJ frantically
beckoned to her to come down. She was silhouetted against the sky,
a perfect target. They weren’t within range of Ty, but the other
wolves easily could have guns too. Not to mention Guadalupe.

Echo climbed halfway down the wall in
seconds, then dropped the rest of the way. She landed beside DJ
like a gymnast, with both feet planting firmly into the ground.

“I spotted one of them at eleven o’clock,”
she murmured, her breath warm against his ear. “Can’t tell who. But
they’re running as a wolf, straight for us.”

“Let’s—” Before DJ could say, “sneak along
the ridge and flank them,” Echo had taken off to do exactly
that.

DJ scrambled to catch up with her. Matching
her stride, he leaned in and spoke in a lowered voice. “You’ve got
to give me some warning of what you’re doing. We haven’t been
partners for long enough that I can just know. I need words.”

She gave him a startled glance, then nodded.
“Right. Sure. I’ll—”

A woman’s angry shriek resounded through the
still night air. With a sound like a sledgehammer hitting stone,
the rock shattered under Echo’s feet.

DJ grabbed her arm and yanked her away before
she could fall. Echo regained her balance almost instantly, her
hand resting so lightly on his arm that he could barely feel its
warmth.

The crack extended straight out from the
ridge. Now DJ knew Push’s exact location. He signaled to Echo to go
in the other direction, then moved toward Push’s right side.

Another scream and crash, and DJ leaped out
of the way of a small crevasse. Tranquilizer gun held ready, he
scrambled up the ridge and peered over the top. Push was kneeling
thirty feet away, unarmed and wild-eyed. As she raised her fist to
punch the wall again, DJ sighted and fired.

A dart hit her side. DJ ducked out of sight.
Another punch sent rocks tumbling down. Then silence. He gave it a
count of five to make sure she was down, then peeked over the
ridge.

Push was out cold in a heap of broken rocks.
DJ didn’t see anyone else around, including Echo. He looked back
down where he’d come from, but she was still out of sight. Where
had she gone?

“Jump!” Echo yelled.

Burning pain stabbed through his right arm as
he threw himself forward over the ridge. DJ tumbled head over heels
until he fetched up in a thankfully soft heap of sand.

He’d dropped his dart gun when he’d been hit,
but he spotted it near Push. He wriggled on his belly, wary of
presenting an easy target, until it was within hand’s reach.

He grabbed it, and was relieved that he
could
grab. He didn’t see any blood, but his upper arm
burned like he’d been shot— not that he’d ever been shot, but he’d
heard people describe what it felt like. He had to be within ninety
meters of Guadalupe.

DJ hadn’t heard any more sounds, which he
hoped to hell meant Echo hadn’t been hit, rather than that she had
and was being stoic. He edged along the base of the ridge, in case
Guadalupe was lying in wait for him to pop his head over. He’d get
out of the kill zone, then go reinforce Echo.