glanced at her watch. The meeting was scheduled to begin in about two minutes. The officers wouldn’t appreciate her interrupting them—that would only delay the assembly they’d thrown together so quickly.
She couldn’t help feeling a bit riled. Quinn should have contacted her, involved her in his discussion. They were a team, at least for the moment. He ought to recognize that. Live by it.
Even so, she recognized that though they had similar interests in what was about to be discussed, his interest was even greater than hers. She was a buddy and comrade-in-arms with Grace.
He was Simon’s brother.
Apparently Quinn and she weren’t the only ones worried about what was happening with the two missing Alpha Force members. The concerns of most of these people, though, might be more about the effect of the current situation on the unit than on the individual members involved.
Okay, call her cynical. She gave a damn about Alpha Force, a lot more than, say, Quinn did. And, most likely, more than those now in an apparently intense discussion with Gen. Greg Yarrow near the door at the side of the room, including a couple of suits and a higher-ranking general.
But the people involved, and what was happening to them, were important, too.
That was why she had tried calling Grace’s cell phone. Three times.
And left three messages, each more urgent than the last.
None had been returned.
“Okay, let’s get started.” Drew broke away from his discussion with Quinn and Patrick and stood at the front of the room in front of the U.S. flag to address the whole gathering. Quinn did not look pleased, but he moved quickly toward her, beyond the couple of rows filled mostly with others in camo uniforms—both shifting and nonshifting members of Alpha Force. Kristine had already noticed that among them was Dr. Melanie Harding-Connell, a local veterinarian and Drew’s wife. They’d had a baby a few months ago, and the little girl, Emily, was sleeping in a nearby stroller. Melanie was not a member of the military and was also not a shifter, although her husband was both.
More than once, Kristine had wondered what little Emily’s shifting abilities might eventually be. Her understanding was that the gene was dominant, so the baby would grow into a werewolf.
Interesting, that Melanie would choose to marry and have an unusual child. Kristine was aware that most shifters were the result of mixed marriages. She loved working with shifters, but marrying one? Giving birth to a baby shifter?
How would a nonshifting parent cope?
Maybe she was too traditional, despite being part of Alpha Force, but give her a nice, calm, loving marriage someday, preferably to another soldier, and a home filled with regular kids. Kids who were loved. Well cared for. A family that was way different from her own disastrous childhood.
Hell, she’d risen above all that. It had brought her here, where she belonged.
Quinn sat down beside her on the aisle seat, nodding grimly. She, too, remained silent. She knew he had a close relationship with his brother and could only imagine what he was feeling now, with Simon the center of a situation that could only be bad, whatever the explanation. She had an unwelcome urge to reach over and squeeze Quinn’s large hand, now resting on his leg, in a gesture of comfort, but that wasn’t appropriate.
“I think you all know why we’re here,” Drew said. He stood in front of the group, speaking without a microphone since everyone had gathered at the front of the room. He probably hadn’t gotten any more sleep than Kristine had after their quick briefing last night, but he looked alert, his golden eyes sweeping the crowd. “Even so, I’ll describe my understanding of the situation.”
He briefly went over what he had said to Quinn and her last night. There’d apparently been no further information gathered since then. Two tourists were fatally mauled. Simon and Grace, who had been honeymooning in the area, were missing. The news had been picked up by local media but national coverage was minimal. So far.
“Are you certain the two things are related?” This came from one of the two men in suits seated in the first row near the generals. The speaker was now standing. Kristine recognized him from the wedding: Darren Olivante, team leader for domestic projects at the Defense Special Projects Agency—the agency within the Department of Defense that had assisted in the creation of Alpha Force and now helped monitor it.
As Olivante turned to glance around the room, Kristine noticed that his salt-and-pepper hair was longer than the traditional cut of the military members he worked with. He wore glasses and a challenging expression on a round and flabby face.
General Yarrow rose and walked to the front of the room beside Drew. He, too, had been at Grace and Simon’s wedding. Although he was headquartered at the Pentagon like the Defense Special Projects Agency, he also maintained an office at Ft. Lukman. Kristine hadn’t seen him around here lately, so he must have dashed here for this meeting.
The general was in his sixties but well preserved, and his hair, although behind a receding hairline, was still black. The wrinkles on his face seemed to show up mostly when he scowled, and he maintained a strong-looking physique.
“We have received no evidence that the killings and the disappearance of our two officers are related, but it’s a potentially logical assumption,” the general said. “Of course, given the special nature of Alpha Force and its members, we’re hoping the Parrans weren’t involved in mauling those tourists, but the information we’ve been given indicates that the wounds appear to have been caused by at least one wild animal, probably canine. That could indicate—”
Quinn stood beside Kristine. She tried to grab him, to warn him not to interrupt, but it was too late. His otherwise handsome face had turned an angry shade of red, and he shouted, “If you’re insinuating that my brother and his wife attacked some humans for no reason while shifted, forget it. Isn’t this Alpha Force organization intended to be a pack of sorts? Pack members have each other’s backs. We don’t level false accusations at one another.”
The DSPA official had remained standing. He glared at Quinn, then turned toward General Yarrow. “I think this is a good example of why the plans we’ve been discussing are the way to go, General,” he said. “And why it’s been so difficult to ensure that funding for Alpha Force stays intact.” Even from several rows back, Kristine could hear the ice dripping from his words.
But what was he talking about? What plans?
And was Alpha Force in jeopardy? Without adequate funding, it could disappear. What would happen to its members?
“My suggestion, sir, is to approach the investigation in a two-pronged way,” General Yarrow said. “And to make sure it’s successful. That will convince the powers that be to appropriate funding. But this isn’t the place to discuss it all.” He turned from the civilian to face Quinn, who remained standing with his hands clenched into tense fists. “Lt. Parran,” the general said, “we will have a private briefing as soon as this meeting is over. For now, you are dismissed.”
Drew Connell, who stood beside the general, gave a curt nod toward Quinn, seconding the order.
Quinn didn’t move, except that his gold-tinged brown eyes narrowed. Kristine half expected him to erupt in a heated volcano of protest and fury.
But he was now a member of Alpha Force. Of the military. He had taken an oath that involved following orders. He’d spoken of the pack mentality of Alpha Force. Surely, he would at least bow to that, to Drew Connell’s authority—wouldn’t he?
In any event, she was his acting aide.
She reached up and grabbed his forearm. As she had anticipated, tension had turned it into a steely rod. “Don’t protest,” she whispered up at him. “We’ll talk to the general and the major later and get this all sorted out.”
He glanced down at her. She almost winced under the barbed anger in his gaze. But in moments, he relaxed. Closed those eyes for an instant.
Then he called