Monster.
He opened his mouth to ask where the "monster" was, but the man was already halfway down the road. Angelo picked up the pace only to skid to a stop in front of a mud-covered shack a few moments later. He knew he was in the right place because there was a guy who looked like he'd been sliced up by Freddy Krueger on the ground in front of it.
Angelo got a sinking feeling in his gut. He'd seen damage like this before.
He jumped over the dead guy and was through the door before he even thought about what he was doing-thinking only slowed you down in situations like this.
Angelo raised his M4, ready to pop the first threatening thing he saw. If he was right about what had attacked those men, it would take multiple shots to kill the thing.
But what he found stopped him in his tracks. Derek and Lieutenant Watson skidded to a stop right behind him.
There wasn't a square foot of wall space in the one-room shack that wasn't splattered with blood, and in the middle of it stood a pretty, dark-haired woman, gazing down at two dead men at her feet. Her shirt was on the floor beside them, one of her bra straps was torn, and her skirt was ripped. Her feet were bare and covered in dirt, and her long hair hung down around her face, almost to her waist.
Angelo felt a rage build inside him like nothing he'd ever felt before, and he was torn between staying where he was and going after the rest of the men who'd tried to rape her and killing them, too.
He glanced at her hands, hoping to find a knife there and praying he was wrong about what she was. But she didn't have any weapons-unless you counted the wickedly sharp claws on each slender finger. And given the amount of blood in the room, those hands certainly qualified as weapons.
As if just realizing he was there, the woman lifted her head and looked at him with glowing red eyes. She growled, baring her teeth and exposing some seriously long canines.
How the hell had a hybrid turned up in Tajikistan? More importantly, what the hell was he going to do with her?
"What the fuck is that thing?" the lieutenant asked hoarsely even as he raised his carbine and sighted in on the woman's chest.
The woman growled again, louder this time, and crouched down on all fours, like she was getting ready to pounce on them.
Shit. Things were about to get ugly.
But instead of leaping at them, her eyes darted around, like she was looking for a way past them. Unfortunately, they were blocking her access to the door and windows, and she knew it. For some reason he couldn't explain, Angelo suddenly didn't see a hybrid monster like those he'd fought in Washington State and down in Costa Rica. He saw a woman who was scared as hell.
"Derek, get everyone outside and away from the building," Angelo ordered softly, never taking his eyes off the woman. "We're freaking her out."
"Freaking her out." Watson snorted. "Are you kidding me? She's the one freaking me out."
"Outside, LT," Angelo ordered again, more firmly this time. "Trust me on this one."
He knew the lieutenant wanted answers, but he didn't have time to give him any. Behind him, Derek was herding the officer toward the door.
"LT, remember when we told you that you'd be seeing some weird shit in the field that they never mentioned in training?" Derek asked. "Well, that weird shit just started. But trust Angelo. He knows what he's doing. He's dealt with these things before."
Their voices faded as they moved outside.
The woman's eyes followed Derek and Watson until they disappeared from sight; then they slid to Angelo. He slowly lowered his weapon, carefully set it on the floor, and raised his hands, speaking softly in Tajik.
"It's okay. You're safe now. No one is going to hurt you."
The red glow in her eyes flickered, then began to fade. Angelo released the breath he'd been holding. Maybe he'd be able to get out of this situation without killing her. He couldn't explain why that mattered to him all of a sudden. She was a hybrid and clearly dangerous. Some might consider killing her to be a mercy-and the only sure way to keep her from hurting anyone ever again.
From what he'd seen, the woman had had a pretty good reason to attack those men. But more importantly, Angelo knew for a fact that not every hybrid was beyond reach. Tanner Howland from the DCO was one of those. The former Army Ranger had learned how to control the rage that defined his kind, and if he could do it, maybe she could, too. At the moment, she certainly seemed to be trying.
Angelo kept up his calm chatter, reassuring the woman that she was safe, and soon enough, her eyes turned to a normal, beautiful brown. There was still anger there, but there was also confusion, maybe even hope.
Raised voices echoed outside, drowning out Angelo's soft words. The villagers had worked up their courage and come looking for blood. The woman's head snapped in that direction, and like a switch being flipped, the veil of calmness that had descended over the female hybrid disappeared.
She tensed, anger warring with what looked like frustration mixed with honest-to-goodness fear on her face. As those emotions ricocheted, her eyes changed from red to green to brown over and over, in a dizzying display like nothing he'd ever seen before.
But then, just as it seemed like she might have a chance, the internal struggle was over, and the hybrid leaped at him.
Every instinct in Angelo's body screamed at him to lunge for his weapon, or at the very least to pull out his knife. But he ignored his instincts and instead set his feet for impact, blocking her slashing claws with his forearm, then ducking down and tackling her. It wasn't the nicest way to treat a woman, but considering the fact that she was trying to kill him, he decided she'd just have to forgive him.
He twisted at the last second, letting his shoulder take the impact. He'd planned to immediately roll his weight onto her, hoping to keep her from getting away by pinning her to the floor like a wrestler, but the hybrid didn't give him a chance. She spun in his grasp, trying to break his hold on her. He wrapped his arms around her, doing his best to trap her clawed hands safely against her breasts as he pulled her back down. She twisted in his arms again, trying to sink her teeth into his shoulder. He hugged her tightly to his chest, whispering over and over that it would be okay, that she was safe, that no one would hurt her.
When she buried her face in his neck, he just about freaked, sure she was going to tear out his throat. He resisted the urge to shove her away and go for his gun, instead continuing to talk to her. Unbelievably, she didn't bite him. She kept struggling to free herself, though. But after a few moments, she went still, all her fight gone.
Angelo glanced down at her. Her cheek was resting against his chest, her eyes closed, and her fingers curled into the front of his uniform. He wasn't sure if she was asleep or had simply passed out from exhaustion. Either way, her breathing was rhythmic and even. The sight of her made his heart ache. This close, he was finally able to see past all the dirt and blood. While he'd thought she was pretty when he'd first seen her, now he realized she was absolutely beautiful-and that she looked vulnerable as hell.
"Damn, Tex-Mex," Derek said from the doorway. "You're good with the ladies when you want to be."
Angelo didn't laugh. "Get on the satellite phone and call Landon. If you can't get him, try Ivy or Clayne. Tell them where we are and that we've stumbled on a hybrid. We need a priority airlift to get her out of here. And whatever you do, don't let LT get on the line to the battalion."
* * *
"Why does Thomas Thorn want to meet with Ivy and me anyway?" Landon Donovan asked.
He and his wife-slash-partner Ivy were sitting across from John Loughlin, their boss and director of the DCO, in a small, nondescript building in a suburb of Washington, DC. After coming back from the rescue mission in Costa Rica, he and Ivy had spent weeks believing John was working with the people creating the hybrids they kept going up against. John had quickly figured out they were spying on him and told them to meet him in this building if they wanted to know what was really going on.
That was back in December. Since then, he and Ivy had been meeting with John a couple times a week, reading through the meticulous files he had on the members of the Committee that ran the DCO.
After they'd gotten a look at the files, especially those on three particular members of the Committee-Thomas Thorn, Rebecca Brannon, and Xavier Danes-it became impossible to believe John was the bad guy. All of it was circumstantial stuff that would never be allowed in a court of law, but if even half the information John had collected on these three was true, then they were some of the coldest, most ruthless people around. Landon would rather fight a hybrid bare-handed than face politically powerful monsters like them.