Chapter 22 Hurricane

The next day...

Jake's POV

As the Tactical Team prepared to rescue the princess, I paced. I hated staying behind, but the soldiers and Ravers could handle the Demonus Fae with the Light Faes' help. I wanted to be there, I wanted to tear Gerard Morganason apart with my bare Raver claws for everything he had put me and my mate through, for what he had done to my kind in his mad bid to rule the world. My hands clenched under the table as I watched the satellite feed of the house. There were no lights and no heat signatures. It didn't even look like a house was there.

General Padget's scent shifted to worried as he grumbled, "How can we commit to a raid on a location that just looks like trees?"

"That's why we're going ahead, Greyson is waiting," Galen announced. "We'll get the lights on and hopefully the princess out before the team strikes." The three younger Fae shimmered and vanished.

"Where are they going? They can't possibly get there that quickly?" Marshland asked.

"I honestly don't know," I answered then Shalom murmured, "Through the mirrors."

"What?"

We looked at her. My mate straightened her shoulders and spine. "The Fae can travel between places using certain kinds of mirrors. I've seen Galen step through one and the surface rippled like water. I saw Mr. Black, a Demonus, step through a plate glass window like the glass wasn't even there. They are called angels and demons for a reason." She waited for us to refute her but none of us did.

I was surprised when my phone rang. "Hello, Monarch Vangaurd here."

"Call off the soldiers," Nicolea's voice was hard and angry. "The cowards are gone."

"What about the princess?" I asked as I glanced around.

"She was here but she is gone now. Greyson suggests you get Shalom and Justice somewhere safe. Gerard won't stop trying to..." The call cut off with something that sounded like a mortar round going off.

"Nic? Nicolea?" I cursed internally as I hung up. Calling back the satphone, I only got the tone from the satellite telling me it couldn't find the device. "The chalet was empty then something happened. The Rosesea Princess and Gerard's remaining Demonus weren't there."

"Can you call her back? Maybe they can find out where she was taken?" Shalom asked in worry for a child she never met.

"I tried. It wouldn't go through. Something happened when the call cut off."

General Padget hung up his phone and looked at me. "The spotters I put in place have reported an explosion at the location. But we have another problem. The Texas Air National Guard is chasing two large aircraft detected on radar. They are flying straight toward Hurricane Tonya. There is an air battle going on over the Gulf between the Air National Guard Fighters and a group of jets flown by unknown pilots." He signaled to his aide who turned on an audio only feed. "One of the Guard jets broke away from the battle to stop them."

They could hear the sound of the jet's engines and the pilot repeated, "This is the Texas Air National Guard 206, attention unidentified aircraft. Your escorts have been shot down. Turn around and return to national air space. Do not... I repeat, do not attempt to enter the hurricane."

"Airman, this is General Padget of National Security. Can you identify the planes?"

"Sir, they look like Boeing DC 10 Air Tankers, flying at three-hundred knots," the copilot's voice held a fearful edge. "We are less than four minutes from the leading edge of the hurricane."

"General Forester, can you hear me? Don't do this, Jim, think of all the people who will be hurt. This chemical has already killed two million," Padget begged.

A laugh cackled in the crackle of static above the drone of engines. "The chemical didn't kill those people, the Nons did. Wake up and smell the blood in the air, Earl. The Non can't be allowed to live with us. Humanity is becoming extinct while politicians do nothing. In two generations, there won't be enough pure humans left to save our species." Forrester insisted. "This is the only way to show all those who believe the romanticized crap about those monsters the truth."

"Don't make me give the order to shoot you down. Turn around and we will let you speak..."

"We both know I will be put on trial and executed as a traitor. I would rather die a patriot of humanity." Forrester interrupted. "Someday the world will know I was right." There was a series of clicks then Forrester began repeating the Pure Human Movement manifesto. It sounded like a recording.

"He's stalling, Earl," I warned in a low voice, watching the clock.

Padget looked down at his clenched fist. "I know he is, Jake." His eyes looked haunted as he motioned to his aide. He took a deep breath then said loudly, "Air Guard 206, you are authorized to use deadly force to stop those planes. Shoot them down."

VvvvvV

Jim Forrester put his phone against the microphone and hit play on the statement he prepared last night. He hoped it was enough to stall his former junior officer long enough for him to reach the eyewall. He changed radio channels.
"Patriot two, this is Patriot one. They are going to try to shoot us down, split up. one of us needs to reach the eyewall." He ordered knowing the enemy was listening. He looked over at the other pilot, saluted him, then he turned southward. Both of them increased speed as they separated. The fighter jet wobbled then turned to chase the other DC 10.

"Make for the clouds." Forrester ordered.

Suddenly two of the H.P.M. jets streaked past his plane with an Texas Guard jet chasing them. As the fighters engaged each other. The other DC 10 was strafed with bullets. One of the engines started streaming smoke.

"Patriot two, losing power. Dropping load in leading edge."

Jim watched it climbing as a plume of smoke and Project Elm Street Chemical fell like a veil. He lost sight of it as he entered the clouds but then he saw the unmistakable flash of flames.

In the radio chatter, he confirmed his fear.

"Air Guard 130, DC 10 attempted to drop load. Target destroyed. Engaged in air-to-air combat with two... make that one enemy jet."

"Air Guard 206, we have lost sight of second DC 10 and enemy fighter. They entered the outer bands of the Hurricane."

"This is General Padget. Force that plane down! Do not blow it up inside the storm or you'll spread the chemical weapon."

He grimaced in fierce determination as he turned to intersect an area behind the weaker edge of the eyewall. He prayed the single tanker would be enough like it had been in Colorado. There was no point in following his combat flight training or making evasive maneuvers if he was found, they believed his only goal was to reach the center of the storm but growing up in hurricane alley had taught him that the eye in this kind of storm often dissipated and reformed before landfall and he was playing his hunch that it would happen with Tonya. Dropping to a lower altitude he knew the updrafts would carry the Elm Street chemical high into the clouds. This storm had a moody temperament just like his exwife. He didn't slowed to the usual 140 knots to dump his tank. The plane shook violently as lights and alarms sounded. It sounded like the liquid pouring out was tearing off parts of the plane. A light flashed that the tank was empty as he fought to turn toward the eyewall and climbed.

"Air Guard 130, Marco! I found Polo."

Suddenly a volley of fifty caliber shells tore through the wing and across the cockpit. Jim felt his left arm and leg shatter as 350 knot per hour wind rushed into the cockpit and blinded him. He screamed in agony as he let go of the stick. Still climbing the air became so thin he began to black out from lack of oxygen and blood loss. The plane stalled and started to drop in a deadly spiral as alarms beeped loudly. He barely heard the panicked copilot of the fighter jet shouting about his pilot shifting into a wolf monster. Fumbling, against the pull of centrifugal force, he put a cigar in his mouth and tried to light it. Then the plane shattered as it struck the surface of the Gulf of Mexico.

VvvvvV

Jake's POV

Padget slammed his fist on the table. "He already seeded the storm!"

The copilot of Texas Air National Guard jet 130 shouted that his werewolf pilot was becoming a Raver. Marshland squeezed his temple as they listened to the panicked man try to eject. His screams revealed his failure over the growling snarls of a Raver then the transmission went silent.

"This is Air Guard 206. Second enemy Jet and DC 10 are down. I am bugging out."

"Negative, 206. We need confirmation that the DC 10 dropped it's payload," Padget ordered.

"Sir, both my copilot and I have relatives who are werewolves. We can't. You heard what happened to 130," The pilot refused and I realized he had not told his command what he was.

"Are you just genome carriers or changed werewolves?" I demanded.

There was silence for a moment before the copilot answered, "We are changed wolves, sir."

I looked at Padget, "I can make them."

Shalom stood and begged quietly, "Please don't... You can't send them back, you will be killing them. No one deserves to die that way." She was right and I knew it and from Padget's expression so did he.

"Air Guard 206, return to base." Padget turned and looked around the room. His gaze settled on the head of NOAA, "I need a fully human crew in a hurricane hunter to fly through Tonya and sample the air and I need to know where that storm is going to hit land. We need to evacuate every Nonhuman from the landfall zone."

Inhaling deeply, Marshland announced, "I need to call the president. We need him to alert the country." Then he looked at me, "Monarch, please order your people to leave the Gulf Coast. I'm sorry but any werewolf who remains under that hurricane and becomes a Raver will be shot on site and if the survive, charged with manslaughter for every person they kill, just like a drug addict or drunk driver who chooses to act under the influence."

His words felt like an accusation and the world started to tint red as I got angry. Shalom put her hand on my arm, and I calmed instantly. I was never more grateful for the effects the mate bond had on an angry wolf. I could not let him see the monster my anger over the inference that anyone would want to be a Raver. She looked up at me with our son on her shoulder and I nodded.

"I will issue the order." Taking my mate by the arm, I led her out of the briefing room.

Shalom spoke quietly as the elevator rose toward my office, "Everyone who hasn't come out to their communities will be outed as a nonhuman in the most racist part of the country."

"It can't be helped; you heard the vice president. Any werewolf who remains under that storm..." An angry shudder ran through me and she stepped back for a moment, then handed me our son.

"Stay calm, Jake."

"I want to send you to your family in..."

"No, I won't leave. I'm going back to Westcliff. There is a lot of data to compare to Kenneth's notes." She walked ahead of me to my office, pausing at Petra's desk. "And we still don't know where Gerard and Petra went with the princess."

"We know where they aren't," Bianca's voice interrupted us.

"And he won't expect you to let your mate and heir out of your sight," Galen announced.

I turned to look at the two redeemed Angeles Fae. "What happened? Where's Nicolea and Greyson?"

They glanced at each other with a scowl, then Bianca wiped a tear. "We aren't certain. Morgana was waiting for us." 

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Well Lovelies, we are finishing Camp NaNoFinMo with 40K and still a few chapters left.