Endangered Species Ch. 41-48

"Any other changes?"

"Not yet. I have a while until the fevers, right?"

"The second day is hell, and the change hits on the third day. It's going to suck."

"Rangers embrace the suck," he said with a smile. "Pain is just weakness leaving the body."

I shook my head. "You're going to be one strong soldier," I replied. I didn't envy anyone who would go through the pain I endured, even if the physical rewards on the back end were significant. It made me think of my women, many going through the change right now.

A few more people took seats before the General directed the guards to close the door. Candles and a few oil lamps gave the room dim lighting, but I could see fine. Maps covered the wall, showing the Hood Canal and the submarine base. "Let's get started," he said. "I just got off the radio with Northern Command in Colorado Springs," he said. "The good news is that General Jones no longer thinks I'm crazy. National Guard units have made contact with werewolves east of the Rockies."

I raised my hand. "Sir, did my message from the USS MAINE get to the right people?"

"I passed it along, Ensign Summers. I haven't heard anything else. Radio communications are spotty with the atmospheric changes, so I had limited time to discuss our situation." I nodded, feeling good that I'd completed my mission. "Northern Command will not allow a nuclear base to remain under the control of potentially hostile werewolf forces. We are the only major military command in the Pacific Northwest still operational, so the mission falls to First Corps. We are to retake the base as soon as possible. If I report that we cannot, other less palatable options are on the table for the President." We all knew what that meant, and none of us wanted that. "Major Perriman, if you could summarize your recon mission results for us."

"Yes, General." He stood and grabbed a pointer from the whiteboard as he walked to the map of the submarine base. "As you can see, the Bangor base is large and wooded. Insurgents are in these tunnels and underground storage locations on the north end as shelter. The bunkers allow the storage, maintenance, movement, and arming of the ballistic missile submarines outside the view of satellites or boats on the Hood Canal. The complex has four entrances, all protected by blast doors."

"What kind of numbers did you observe?"

"We observed two military trucks returning with supplies and unloading, thirty-three men and women. Some shifted from wolf to human form upon return. Multiple patrols plus guards at the gates."

"It was the middle of the night, so most of the scavenging parties would still be out," I added.

The General didn't like this news. "And you think the total population could be about a thousand, Ensign?"

"Yes, sir. After returning to the marina, we talked with three werewolves. They were members of the Brinnon Pack when I was at the base. I knew one of them pretty well from the leadership meetings. He said Alpha Edward Winters had killed the other Alphas and was consolidating the Puget Sound region Packs at Bangor. Their group was moving supplies from Brinnon to the base. When I said a thousand, I was talking about adult warriors. The total population could be double that."

"Jesus," one of the Captains along the wall muttered.

"Yeah," I replied. "The women and children still have guns, teeth, and claws. They will fight to the death to defend their Packs and families."

"If you ask us to assault the base, it's going to be a bloodbath," Major Perriman concluded. "The numbers will be about even, but they have all the advantages except surprise."

"I wouldn't count on that," I said. "With their patrols, the buffer zone they are creating, and their superior senses? They will see you coming. Add in that they can fight effectively at night, communicate instantly, and retreat to the underground bunkers if overwhelmed. A direct attack won't work."

"How would you do it," a bird Colonel asked.

"Decapitation," I replied. "Packs have a strict hierarchy, enforced by the Alphas through the wolves. My friends are not happy with the situation, but they don't have a choice. If Alpha Winters gets knocked off, another wolf with Alpha-level power could take over."

"What, change one wolf for another?"

"Yes, if I'm the new Alpha. I could get them to surrender. It's the only way to do this without a lot of bloodshed on both sides."

The General tapped his fingers on the table. "I can put you with our attack force, but how do you get the werewolves to emerge from the tunnels? You can't kill the Alpha if he's deep in a hole."

I nodded. "That's true, and that is what Alpha Winters will do if humans attack. He can't do it if another Pack arrives on his territory and their Alpha challenges him for the top spot. He HAS to come out, or he's a coward. The Pack would kill him for me if he hid from me like a scared little bitch." That got some laughs. "Pack leadership challenges have laws and traditions behind them. He won't be able to refuse me, especially since he sees me as young, weak, and female. He won't even consider the possibility of losing. All members of both Packs will have to come outside and witness the challenge, which takes away the defensive advantage."

"What exactly does a challenge entail?"

"A fight to the death in wolf form," I said.

"Can you win?"

I just smiled. "Before I can challenge, I need to have a Pack to walk in with me. Without warriors to protect me, he could have me killed."

"Will two thousand soldiers be a sufficient escort?"

"No, but two hundred volunteers that take the change would be," I told him. "You need a Pack to knock off a Pack, General. I need a week to get volunteers, change them, and train them to fight with the new capabilities."

This proposal went over like a fart in church. "You want me to let to raise a Pack from MY soldiers to be under YOUR command?"

"Yes, General."

That Captain rolled his eyes. "I'm supposed to take orders from a butterbar with no combat experience? With all due respect, General, that's never going to work."

Butterbars were Second Lieutenants/Ensigns, the lowest-ranked officers. "Sir, once you have a wolf, you won't see it that way. Werewolf rank flows from your wolf's strength and dominance, not how long you've been in the service or how many tests you take. Like me, you can be an Alpha at twenty-one or the lowest-ranked Omega at forty. It all depends on the wolf you get after I bite you."

Major Perriman walked behind me, placing a hand on my shoulder. "She's asking for volunteers, General. I asked for the change; it saved my life, but it would be worth it just for the healing and sensory advantages it gives me. How many people do we have in the hospital right now, sir? How many are blind or suffering from radiation sickness, unable to get effective treatment, and doomed to a slow death?"

"Hundreds," one of the officers said.

"I could ask them first," I continued. "I'll explain everything to get informed consent, but I bet you that most of your severely injured will take it. I don't know if it will return eyesight, but I'm confident it will return them to good health. What do they have to lose? The world has changed, and even the healthy among you will struggle to survive."

They knew I was right, and I could see it in their eyes. The General finally broke the silence. "Major, take Ensign Summers to the hospital and start the briefs. Ensign, NO ONE gets the bite without my express permission. Understood?"

"Aye aye, sir."

"Meanwhile, the rest of you will work on attack plan options using our human military forces. I'm not crazy about turning my people furry and placing them under an Ensign's command, but I can see it might work. Find something better."

"Yes, General," they all replied.

"Get to work."

Ch. 46

"Madigan Army Medical Center is eight stories tall with two hundred and twenty beds," Bruce told me as we drove off on his Harley. He was in front this time. We were lucky; the sky was cloudy and threatening rain. Before leaving Headquarters, we'd put our hats and gloves on, plus dark sunglasses and bandanas. Even without our werewolf healing, we'd be fine for the short ride. "The hospital has a backup generator, but that got knocked out with the initial pulse. Even if they fix it, the pulse bricked all those sophisticated electronics inside. All that fancy LED lighting is dead, too."

"You're still using it?"

"We moved everything else out of the basement and put the patients there. There are no windows, and we have the concrete above for shielding."

"Why didn't I go there?"

"The place is wall to wall wounded, plus they thought you were potentially contagious. There was a nurse's station at Headquarters, so they put you in an empty room and brought the doctor in."

We pulled into the driveway, parking the motorcycle on the sidewalk near the entrance. Nobody was on the ground floor, and the stairway down to the basement was dark. Bruce kept a hand on my shoulder as I used my vision to guide us down.

The smell was horrific, even before we opened the door. Alcohol, blood, pus, vomit, shit? It was all there in spades. It reminded me of a field hospital from Doctor Zhivago, my Mom's favorite movie.

The door at the bottom of the stairway opened, revealing a stretcher detail and a person holding a lantern. Between them was a body covered with a sheet. We stepped out of the way, removing our covers as they passed. "What do you do with them," Bruce asked.

"We put them in a truck, and a detail burns them at night," the weary medic replied.

The cavernous basement contained hundreds of patients. Beds filled every space, with only a narrow walkway separating them. Nurses and doctors worked by candlelight and oil lamps, doing what they could for the hundreds of patients. I could tell that wasn't much; there were IV stands, but no IVs hung. They probably ran out, and no more were coming.

An entire section contained the blind, gauze bandages covering their eyes in the hope something would come back with time. Other beds held people in horrible pain; swollen limbs and faces, the smell of vomit, and blackened skin. "Radiation sickness," Bruce said as he looked around.

An older woman approached warily. Her utilities were stained, but I spotted two silver bars on one collar and a caduceus on the other. She looked annoyed we'd show up and not do anything to help. "Captain Holloway, shift nurse. How can I help you, Major?"

"I need to speak to everyone who can listen and understand me," I said before he could answer. "I can heal these people if they agree to let me."

She looked at me, then at the Major. "I don't have time for fucking jokes, Major. We're losing a dozen people a shift."

"It's not a joke, ma'am. Tell your people to wake everyone up. If they can move, get them closer to the center of the room. They will want to hear what the Ensign is going to say." She looked uncertain. "That's an order straight from General Payne, Captain."

"This had better be good." She put two fingers in her mouth and let out a piercing whistle. The noises died down quickly. "LISTEN UP! I NEED PATIENTS TO GATHER AROUND THE NURSE'S STATION! IF YOU CAN'T GET OUT OF BED, THE NURSES WILL HELP YOU SIT UP SO YOU CAN SEE. STAY QUIET SO EVERYONE CAN HEAR."

Everyone in the room started moving at once. I grabbed a clean sheet from the rack near the wall, bringing it with me to the middle of the room. The nurses had a dozen desks in a U-shape. I picked the easiest one to see and started moving stuff off to other desks. One of the medics took offense. "What are you doing!"

"Putting you out of business, I hope," I said as I kept clearing papers off the desk. The Major stepped in, having folding chairs placed behind the wheelchairs that surrounded us. It took fifteen minutes before we had everyone settled. By that time, I had removed everything but my T-shirt and pants.

Most of the patients were male, and they didn't mind my state of undress as I hopped onto the table. Lanterns moved to surround me. "LISTEN UP," I said using my best command voice. "My name is Ensign Angela Summers, and I'm here to heal you."

"I'm fucking BLIND," a man in the front said. "Doc said it is permanent."

"And your Doctor is correct if we are talking medical treatments. I'm not. I'm a werewolf. My bite can heal you, but it will make you like me."

The reaction was anywhere from shock to laughter. Major Perriman climbed up next to me, holding the sheet around me while I disrobed under it. "This isn't a strip club," one of the nurses objected when my bra hit the desk.

"LISTEN UP," the Major yelled. "Less than twelve hours ago, I took three rounds of five-five-six in the chest. My armor stopped two, but the third clipped my shoulder here." He pulled his jacket and T-shirt aside. "The bullet smashed my clavicle and hit my subclavian artery. First aid couldn't stop the bleeding, and I was hours from any medical facility. I asked the Ensign to bite me, to make me like her. She did. The bleeding stopped, and the skin and bone healed in less than three hours. It's a little sore, but I survived what should have killed me in minutes. She's not lying to you, and she'll prove it."

I was naked under the sheet now. "Watch me," I told the room. Closing my eyes, I called my wolf forward. The shift occurred instantly, and the Major was left holding the sheet.

You could have heard a mouse fart in the back. I sat on the desk, raised my head, and howled.

As Sheriff Buford T. Justice would say, "Now THAT is an attention getter." I walked around on top of the desks, giving everyone a good look, then jumped down to walk among them. The braver of them reached out to touch my fur as I passed.

While I wandered among them, the Major told them what werewolves could do besides turning into big-ass wolves. After ten minutes, I leaped onto the desk and let him cover me with a sheet. I shifted back, getting dressed under it as I described what the change meant. "I know it can cure milder radiation sickness. I don't know if it can restore eyesight because the people who changed me didn't take in blind women. I also don't know how far gone you can be with radiation sickness because they didn't take those women either. I've seen the Major heal before my eyes, so I'm hopeful I can help everyone."

"What's the catch," the blind guy from before asked.

"The healing happens on day one. The next day, your fever spikes, and you become delirious. It's like the worst flu ever. Then the first shift happens on the third day. It is a painful ordeal I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. You feel every bone in your body break and reform. Not everyone makes it, and only volunteers get my bite. After the first shift, you need to learn to use your new senses and strength and how to move and fight in both forms."

"Fight?" One of the nurses looked unsure.

"I need fighters to go with me and liberate the Bangor Submarine Base from other werewolves," I told them. "I'd like to have several hundred of you with me, and those people would get priority. If the General agrees, I'll bite those who don't want to fight."

"We have one week to prepare for the assault," Bruce said. "We're going to take a short break here. If you aren't interested, please return to your beds or move away from the central area. If you want to hear more, move up."

We spent a few more hours discussing things in more detail and answering questions before the General summoned us back to his conference room. His staff was back in place, and he started the meeting as soon as we walked in. "How many of the wounded are going to volunteer?"

"Between a hundred and two hundred soldiers, plus another hundred non-combatants," Major Perriman replied. "Some said they want to see me go through the change before they decide. If you allow that, they won't shift in time to join the assault."

"Some of the non-combatants may volunteer when they get their wolves. You could also ask healthy soldiers to volunteer. The advantages of being a wolf might get ten to twenty-five percent to agree," I added. "They are better soldiers after the change, and they'll want that."

The General let out a breath. "We don't have any better options," he confessed. "How will this work if I give you permission to change them?"

"I'd move them all to a different building, make sure they agree, then bite them," I said.

"Why is that," a Colonel asked.

"They will need different care than the others, and during the change, you don't want humans around to prevent accidental turns," I replied. "Major Perriman and I will be there to supervise the changes. As their Alpha, I'm there when they shift to settle them down and bring them into my Pack. After that, we need to train together. Once we are ready, we move out."

The officer turned on Bruce. "Major, are you going to be in command?"

"Major Perriman's rank doesn't mean shit in a Pack," I replied. "The Pack structure is similar to a military unit, but leaders aren't appointed. Leadership flows from the dominance of the new wolves. The Pack reports from the warriors up through the Beta-level wolves to me as the Alpha."

The Colonel didn't like that. "And who are YOU responsible to, Ensign Summers?"

I didn't know how to answer that. The silence was telling. "I'd be interested in that answer as well," the General said.

I composed myself and looked into his eyes. "I swore an oath to protect and defend this country," I said. "I'd like to think I've done that. I endured much, even the death of my shipmate, to reach this base. I carried out my Captain's orders to deliver his message." Now for the fun part. "I didn't seek to become a werewolf. The Pack I was with were American citizens. They were neighbors, business owners, students, police, and even soldiers. Their leaders killed hundreds of sailors and Marines and enslaved hundreds of women like me. The leader responsible for that is dead, and another tyrant has taken his place. Alpha Edward must pay for his crimes. We must secure the weapons. As an officer in the United States Navy, I will follow your orders to accomplish that."

"But?"

"I'm an Alpha now, General. All of these people I turn into werewolves will be my responsibility. The wolves of the Renfro Pack are my responsibility. When Alpha Edward is dead, and I take over and stop the fighting, another thousand werewolves at the base become MY responsibility. Those people aren't military, but those who are will have dual loyalties. They will be Pack wolves first and foremost until they die. God willing, I'll be a good leader for them."

"That doesn't sound like you're following lawful orders of those appointed above you," the Colonel objected.

"I have to find a balance, Colonel. Your objective is to secure nuclear weapons and bring the base under military control. I have to do that, plus keep my people alive and safe. I need both, General. There's no point in us taking the base if you're going to kick my new Pack members out. I will secure the installation for you, but I need something in return. Bangor will be the home of my Pack. We will provide security and support, and I will report directly to a Base Commander you appoint. We will take in personnel who can support the submarines when they return."

The General leaned back in his chair. "What if I order you to take the base, then leave with all your werewolves?"

I shrugged. "This wolf thing is new to me. I don't think she would betray my Pack members like that."

He looked to my right. "Major? What if I ordered you to kick them all out?"

"I have no idea, sir. I don't have my wolf yet."

The Colonel turned to his boss. "This is too dangerous, sir. You're talking about creating a battalion of super-soldiers you can't control. What if they fail? What if Ensign Summers here dies, and this Alpha Edward guy brings in two hundred combat-experienced warriors?"