Act of Command: An Immortal Ops World Novel (PSI-Ops / Immortal Ops Book 4) (11 page)

They’d tried the channel they’d told him they’d operate on, but had gotten no response. Laney had been attempting to reach James the entire mission to alert him that she and Mercy had heard Corbin put out a call on his frequency, letting them know the locations were bogus, but there had been an issue with their communication gear. None could be reached.

Fucking traitors. Someone had tampered with their equipment.

PSI had rogues in its midst, and if they didn’t weed out the no good sons-of-bitches, and soon, more people would die. He’d have to bury more of his brothers-in-arms. They were as close to him as his family back home. Though, most of his friends at PSI were not nearly as rowdy as the McCracken clan. To his blood family, Striker was one of the more reserved males.

He nearly laughed at that.

He’d barely taken four steps when the elevators across the lobby opened. He set his tactical bag on the floor as Duke and Malik stepped out of the elevator, each looking more worried than the other. It was Duke who spoke first, “No signs of Corbin on campus?”

“No,” said Striker. He’d gone over the campus, trying to catch Corbin’s scent. He’d even asked students about his captain, flashing a picture he’d taken of Corbin on his phone after an explosion in the lab at headquarters had left Corbin’s hair tinted pink. No one had seen him in the last day. It wasn’t as if the pink hair would keep them from knowing it was him. After all, Striker had asked females. He didn’t know one female who didn’t think Corbin resembled a male underwear model. They’d have remembered him if he was around.

Malik rubbed the back of his head. “This isn’t good.”

“No. It’s not any fucking good,” confirmed Duke with his normal finesse.
 

“I thought he’d return here,” said Malik. He’d known Corbin the longest. He and Brit had a strange friendship that the other men didn’t question.

Striker nodded. “Aye, I assumed as much too. No one on that campus has seen him tonight. Several women said they saw him there two weeks back. And I couldnae find any scent of him there recently, so I believe them. Interestin’ thing though, I did find out that both Mae and her roommate went missing the same night. The people I spoke to all thought the two took off on a mini-vacation. They said it’s common for the roommate, Alice something or other, to do so.”

Malik narrowed his gaze. “Either the roommate had something to do with Mae’s abduction or she was killed when Mae was taken. You know how those assholes like to cover their tracks. We found how many dead bodies associated with the last ring we broke up? They eliminate anyone and anything that stands between them and money.”

“I was in their dorm. There are pictures of them all over. I brought some with me.” He pulled one from his tactical bag and handed it to Malik. The picture had two very beautiful women, arm in arm, each holding mustaches on a stick out in the air, smiling wide. “My gut tells me the redhead dinnae betray the other. I think they’re both supernaturals, at least from what I could smell. And from what the women who lived next to them said, they were like sisters. Thick as thieves type.”

Malik stared at the picture and said nothing.

“She’s probably dead,” said Duke, ever the ray of sunshine.

“Or she was taken too.”

Duke grimaced. “Did you find anything else?”

Striker bent and pulled out a statue. He handed it to Duke.

Duke’s brows shot up at the sight of it. “Why the fuck do you have a naked statue of Corbin?”

That caught Malik’s attention. He took the statue from Duke, his head tipping to one side as he surveyed it. “Amazing how accurate it is.”

Striker blinked. “I do nae look at his junk long enough to memorize it when we’re shiftin’ or in the shower room. It’s disturbin’ to think you do. You look at mine that much? Yer a fine-lookin’ male, but I do nae swing that way.”

Malik grunted. “I meant the rest of him and his lion. Look at how detailed it all is. Remarkable. Whoever did this is very talented and has a keen eye. Was this in the girls’ dorm as well?”

“No,” said Striker, taking it from Malik. “The neighbors told me Mae is an art major. They said she spends most of her time sculptin’. I found that buildin’ and broke in to have a look around. I dinnae know if maybe Corbin caught her scent near there or nae. I found this, but no trace of the Brit.”

Duke took a deep breath. “James called in. No sign of Corbin at his home either. Not that any of us really thought he’d go there, but we had to rule it out.”

“He’s been out of touch too long,” said Malik, voicing Striker’s very same concern. “Not like him at all.”

No. It wasn’t. Striker merely stared at his teammates. He didn’t want to voice his biggest fear—that he might have lost another friend, another man he considered a brother. For several tense moments, no one said anything, each fearing the same thing.

Malik eyed Striker. “You feeling all right? You’ve had no witty remarks about hot college girls. You just spent hours on a campus full of co-eds. This is not like you. Are you dying?”

“Och, I’m nae dying.” Striker handed the statue to Duke, who took it reluctantly before Striker reached into his shirt pocket and withdrew a handful of scrap papers. Each had a number scrawled on it. As Malik grabbed one and unfolded it, a number appeared. There were phone numbers on all the papers. Striker lifted his shirtsleeves, showing numbers written all over his arms in pen, some permanent. Some had explicit promises on what the women would do when he phoned. He had to admit, some of the young women were quite imaginative. Had his concern not been with Corbin, he might have taken them up on the offers. He was in need of a good fuck, but that would have to wait.

With a grin he lifted his shirt, removing it from the front of his pants, showing off even more numbers all over his torso. “They’ve signed other places too, but I do nae think you want to see those spots.”

Malik shook his head. “Sadly, this is more what I was expecting from you.”

“I got numbers for you too,” said Striker, wagging his brows. “But nae Duke since he’s mated. Ball and chains probably do nae like that.”

Duke groaned.

He held an arm towards Malik. “Take yer pick. They’re eager for an alpha male to rock their worlds. I do nae think they’ll mind if yer nae Scottish.” He frowned, thinking upon his time on the campus. “Three of them thought I was French. Do they nae teach young people anythin’ anymore? French? I do nae sound French.”

Growling, Duke mumbled something about the French. Striker didn’t ask for details. He knew Duke’s thoughts on the country. He wasn’t a fan.

Malik hid a laugh behind a cough. “Striker, you should take to the internet about that later. Point out the difference and all. The failing of an entire generation educationally.”

“
Guid
idea,” said Striker, puffing his chest. “My advice column is a big hit.”

“You’re a fucking dumbass,” snapped Duke. No surprise there. Duke was always in a foul mood. That was part of what Striker liked about the man. And no matter what mood Duke was in, he was loyal. All the men on the team were.

“Thanks.”

Malik grinned and then glanced at the elevator as it opened and Boomer appeared, worry on the man’s face. “What?”

“Laney got a hit on Corbin’s SUV location. The readings are all over the place, but she’s managed to narrow the area somewhat for us. Either Corbin is driving around like a crazy maniac, going in circles and everything else, or someone is trying to throw us off his actual location.” Boomer held out a small sticky note. “It’s nowhere near where we sent him.”

Striker handed the statue to Duke and took the note and whistled low, through his teeth. Boomer was correct. The location was a good three hours from where they’d sent Corbin. It was a lead all the same. That meant something. “I love lowjackin’. We’ve got him.”
 

“Assuming Corbin is with the SUV,” said Malik, glancing at the note. “Captain wouldn’t waste time driving in circles. He’s far too organized for that.”

Boomer did a double take at the statue in Duke’s hand. “Something I should know? I’ve always suspected you had a thing for Corbin, but to go so far as to get a naked likeness of him, well, Duke, that is a bit much. Does Mercy know about this fetish of yours?”

“Fuck you,” snapped Duke.

Boomer ran a hand through his long hair. Striker couldn’t be sure, but Boomer may have taken a few of his earrings out. Haven, his mate, was certainly calming the man down. “The question begs, if Corbin isn’t with the SUV, where is he and what happened to him?”

Duke glanced at Striker. “Bring extra weapons and load up on tranqs just in case we find him and he’s suffering the same fate you and I did.”

“You mean the ‘curse of the mated male’ fate? Already done,” said Striker. “I get to shoot him with them, right? Payback for his people and my country and all.”

Malik touched Striker’s shoulder. “You really need to let that go.”

“They may take our land,” started Striker, drawing a round of groans from his teammates. He grinned. “Do nae take that tone about the great William Wallace. There is nae a lycan from the motherland that does nae view him as a hero.”

“Your obsession with the man is troublesome,” added Malik. “Are you going to get a statue of him made?”

The idea had merit. He’d have to look into it. He’d want a life-sized one to honor the man.

Boomer motioned to Striker’s pants. They were part of his tactical gear. “At least he’s not in a kilt today. Big step for him. We should take our wins where we can.”

Duke reached out and tapped the strip of plaid that Striker had tied around his upper arm. Wearing his clan’s colors made him feel whole. “But he brought a piece of his dress with him.”

“Och, ‘tis nae a dress, dickhead.”

Duke smirked, his expression saying he more than understood that a kilt was not a dress. “Too easy.”

“Word,” added Boomer, taking the note back from Striker. “How are we playing this? Do we all go?”

Duke shook his head. “No. I’m not leaving the women here unattended. Not with the tampered equipment we found tonight. James is headed back here. I’ll have him pick up Haven and bring her here with us. He can help me keep an eye on the women. You, Malik and Striker can check out this location. There are comm units in the back of my SUV that aren’t PSI issue. Take them and stay in contact.”

Boomer tipped his head. “Might want to let James know that Scar is roaming the sanctuary freely. He’s a great guard kitty.”

Malik’s eyes widened. “You let that panther loose? Around your woman?”

Boomer owned and operated a huge animal rescue, and it specialized in exotic animals. Scar was a panther who had only recently come to reside there. Scar wasn’t a shifter but was severely abused by humans, leaving him scared and angry. He’d been seriously injured not long back and Striker had been there when Boomer had offered his own blood to speed the animal’s recovery.
 

Duke grunted. “What about Li’l Duke?”

Striker hid his smile as he heard his friend ask about the well-being of a chimpanzee that had been a lab animal that now resided at the sanctuary. The chimp was into cross-dressing, and because of his foul mood when they’d first met him, he’d been given the name Li’l Duke. His namesake tried to pretend he couldn’t stand the little guy but all knew better.

“Li’l Duke is fine. He and Scar get along great.” Boomer grinned. “That cat loves Haven. He’d eat anyone who got near her. Sometimes I swear he looks at me like I’m lunch. Whenever Haven is cross with me, Scar licks his lips like this is his moment—this is when I become a giant cat chew toy.”

“Fucking cats,” said Duke. “Malik, alert James about Scar. Boomer, call Haven and have her ready for James.”

Striker eyed his longtime friend. “Yer sexy when yer barkin’ orders.”

Duke growled.

Boomer shook his head. “If Striker tries to kiss you, I’m not saving him from your wrath. Just don’t go making statues of him.”

Malik smiled. “Gentlemen, focus. We’re not getting to this location before first light and I don’t even want to think upon what we might find when we do get there.”

“Aye, possibly a lion runnin’ through the city streets makin’ snacks of the mornin’ commuters.” Striker was only partially joking.

Malik tipped his head to the side. “Or he’s fallen into the enemy’s hands.”

No one wanted to think hard on that. It wouldn’t be Corbin’s first time being held captive. All the men had suffered a similar fate in their lives. Some more than once.

Chapter Ten

The sound of Ezra’s voice pulled Mae from her sleep. She opened her eyes, but without her glasses it was hard for her to make out much. Her body wasn’t wracked with pain, so whatever he’d given her was helping. The thirst was better. Not gone but better.

“Bring him in here!” shouted Ezra.

She vaguely made out Ezra’s shape and that of several other men. Squinting, she realized one of the men had another person over his shoulder as if the person was a sack of potatoes. It took Mae a moment to realize the person was a man because of all the long blond hair. Hair she’d seen before.

No. It couldn’t be the man from campus.

Could it?

She blinked again, trying hard to focus with no luck.

The hair obscured the man’s face. His wrists were bound with thick silver chains as were his ankles. He was shirtless but had on military-style pants and boots. The man holding him glanced over the top of the blond’s head as he heaved him onto the floor rather unceremoniously. The blond didn’t move, making Mae wonder if he was still alive. His mass of hair continued to cover his face. It took all of her to remain in place and not go to the man.

Ezra bent, checking the blond’s vitals. His gaze went to the guard. “How much did you shoot him up with?”

The other man shrugged. “I don’t know. A lot. He killed a couple of us. Took another eight of us to subdue him and he was only partially shifted. We had to wait until his body reformed fully to chain him. I’ve never seen anything like it. Kept going on about wanting to know where some woman was. I forget the chick’s name—it was a month or something—whatever it was, he was pissed and driven.”