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“You’ll unlock or I promise you, you’ll be on perimeter duty, sleeping on the dirt outside, for the next month,” Anya snapped. “Get a door open and get me out of here.”
“I’m sure he’s fine.” Sofia was leaning against a wall, inspecting her fingernails. “I saw him take a bullet to the belly four months ago. He was up and moving around hours after they removed it and bitching orders right and left. He’s tough.”
“Alpha three has lost consciousness.” The voice came through the communications speakers.
All the Coyotes in the room raised their heads to the monitor that showed the heli-jet lifting off.
“We have a deep puncture to the left side, possible kidney damage. Bullet, right shoulder. Laceration left biceps, laceration left thigh. Possible cracked rib.”
Anya could feel her legs weakening.
“Emma!”
“Exit found,” Emma called out. “Team three is waiting, Haven has been notified that you’re arriving. Armani is prep-ping Surgery.”
“Move!” Anya turned, pushing at Emma to move faster until they were practically running for the elevator. The Coyote soldiers surrounded her as she, Emma and Ashley stepped into the cubicle.
The ascension was quick, though each second seemed a lifetime to Anya. As the doors slid open, she was moving to the second team, waiting at a narrow access door leading through a narrow stone tunnel.
“All-terrains are waiting outside,” one of the soldiers informed her quickly. “You’ll be riding with your two personal bodyguards. As well as three soldiers. Two vehicles ahead of you, two behind.”
“One ahead of me, three behind,” she informed him, flashing him a hard look. “Missiles generally aim for the middle vehicle and you know it.”
“An armed ambush would go for the first two vehicles first,” he argued. “We don’t know what we’re dealing with yet.”
She turned on him, eyes narrowed, rage shaking through her.
“Delay me a single second longer and I’ll have you reported to the Coyote Cabinet for reprimand. Don’t assume, soldier, that I’m not well aware of our security and protection protocols, because I am. Now, get your head out of your own egotistical ass and get me to Haven before I have Emma shoot you.”
Emma smiled and laid her hand on the butt of the weapon strapped to her side.
“Why can’t I shoot him?” Ashley pouted. “Emma gets all the fun.”
She ignored them, waving to the team ahead of her to proceed. She wasn’t ignorant. She knew how to run Base; she’d studied everything about the Coyote base that she could study and spent hours upon hours working command simulations with the techs in charge of the command center. She’d thrived on the challenge of learning. But now she was terrified she wouldn’t get to Del-Rey in time.
Exiting the caverns, she moved quickly to the second all-terrain and jumped into the back, knowing damned good and well no one was going to let her ride up front. Emma and Ashley sat on either side of her as the Coyote soldiers filled the front and back weapon areas.
Within seconds the five vehicles were racing back down the mountain, swinging around the curves and entering the secured pass into Haven.
Minutes later she was jumping to the ground and moving swiftly into the medical bunker, moving through the secured area and down the incline belowground to the surgical and medical areas.
“Brim.” She moved quickly to Del-Rey’s personal bodyguard and second-in-command. “How is he?”
Brim looked harried.
“You shouldn’t be here, Coya,” he admonished her. “You’re safer at Base.”
She was tired of everyone acting as though she didn’t belong in the places she wanted to be.
She glared back at him. “I didn’t ask for your opinion; I asked for your report.”
He gave it, and when he finished, Anya felt her frustration rising. Dr. Armani was fighting against genetics she didn’t understand, but Del-Rey had stabilized. The blood kept on hand for just such an occasion had been used to replace what he had lost, but his system was moving sluggishly, accepting the drugs the doctor had created to treat Coyote wounds, but those drugs still weren’t as effective as they could be.
Unfortunately, there was very little information on the treatment of Coyote Breeds in the labs. Coyotes were slightly more paranoid than the Wolves and Felines. Talk about the destruction of records. All records. Nothing had been saved, on the off chance that anyone would find a weakness they were unaware of.
This couldn’t continue.
“Emma,” she murmured as Brim moved away. “I need a contact.”
