of Alpha Force. We’ve seen him do great things with the unit’s automobiles that need servicing. But—”
“I assume you’re not suggesting that he could have been the one to somehow booby-trap my car, are you?” asked the general drily. “Why would he?”
“Why did anyone?” countered Simon. “Assuming it wasn’t just spontaneous combustion.”
Sara tuned out of the discussion for a moment, digesting what she had just learned. Sergeant Jason Connell wasn’t merely a car lover and outstanding mechanic. He had apparently been arrested, and maybe convicted, of being a car thief. He must have agreed to join Alpha Force and throw himself under the scrutiny of his well-regarded cousin Major Drew Connell, a commissioned officer and a medical doctor to boot, to keep himself out of prison.
And this was the guy Sara had found so sexually exciting?
Hell, even if he was sexually exciting, everything she learned about him made him even more of a wrong choice for involvement.
Even so... “General, sir, I didn’t know all that about Sergeant Connell. But he is a member of Alpha Force, and you’re its commanding officer. He has a good reputation for working with cars, and he obviously isn’t going to steal what remains of your Jeep. Sir—” Sara turned to Drew “—as I said, you’ve already ordered that photos be taken. You’ve also said that the remains should be kept in a protected area. You can additionally order that some of the other soldiers on base, maybe more security team members who aren’t part of Alpha Force or USFT, assist Sergeant Connell, and be there the whole time he’s conducting his investigation. Although—” She looked back at the general. “If he was involved, and there was anything he could steal off the damaged car and hide, he’ll have done that already.”
“True,” said General Yarrow. “And I wouldn’t have approved acceptance of the sergeant into Alpha Force if I’d thought he was still any kind of risk. Although having someone watching to confirm he doesn’t do anything wrong with my former vehicle now is a good idea. In fact—”
Uh-oh. Sara didn’t like the general’s smile. She had seen it before when he was about to give an order that he knew the recipient would hate.
He was looking at her.
“Lieutenant McLinder, I hereby order you to work with Sergeant Connell to find out what the hell happened to my car—and to make sure he does a good job of checking it out.”
Her shock must have shown on her face, since, for the first time that she’d seen after the explosion, General Yarrow actually laughed. So did the other three Alpha Force members in the room.
Then the general grew serious. “One thing, though. I’m pretty sure you already know it, that you’ve seen some things you didn’t expect despite my warning before you preceded me to Ft. Lukman.”
“Are you about to tell me that Sergeant Connell is a shapeshifter, sir?” Sara tried to put levity and nonchalance into her voice, but knew she failed miserably. She looked, one by one, at the three Alpha Force members now in her presence, all medical doctors and commissioned officers. “I don’t know if everyone in Alpha Force is a shapeshifter,” she said, “but I now believe that some of you are. And that includes Jason Connell. So if you—”
General Yarrow raised his hand in a sudden gesture that she recognized was intended to command. She immediately shut up.
Which was a good thing, since a voice sounded from behind her. “General Yarrow. Greg. We just heard and had to come here to make sure you were all right.”
Sara turned. In the doorway were a couple of the USFT members she had seen in the cafeteria. They were preceded by a short, stocky man also in camos, his insignias indicating that he was a general. He’d been the one to speak.
“I’m fine, Hugo. Everyone—” General Yarrow’s gaze took in the Alpha Force group around him as he gestured toward the newcomers “—this is General Hugo Myars, commanding officer of the Ultra Special Forces Team. I’m sure you’ve met some of his team members.” He nodded toward the not especially friendly officers Sara had previously spoken with.
Myars maneuvered his way around the representatives of Alpha Force, while his backup remained near the door, their caps respectfully doffed and in their hands. “I know our people aren’t merging as well as we’d initially hoped, so the exercises we planned are on hold, and now this. But I’m here to let you know, Greg, that the USFT and all its team members wish you a speedy recovery, and we’re ready to work with Alpha Force as soon as we can start conducting joint training sessions.”
Nice gesture, Sara thought.
Unless, of course, this was just General Myars’s way to try to disguise the fact that he, or some of his subordinates, were the ones who’d set fire to General Yarrow’s car.
But if so, why?
And did this unanticipated get-well visit make what Jason would find in the Jeep’s remains even more critical...because it would point right to these apparently kindhearted fellow soldiers?
* * *
Jason couldn’t help it.
At the moment, he stood alone on the hard concrete of Ft. Lukman’s main parking garage, arms crossed, enjoying the rare and temporary solitude. Thinking.
He was in the military now. That usually meant having too many people around.
Although there were some people—one in particular at the moment—who he admitted to himself weren’t so difficult to be near. But not just now.
He loved cars. They had a purpose, were understandable and followed logical rules.
They were indifferent to the fact that he was a shapeshifter, didn’t care that he had made some mistakes when he was younger—well, except that he’d occasionally taken some cars away from their real, and possibly abusive or ignorant, owners.
He particularly loved those cars that could be considered classics.
That didn’t necessarily include General Yarrow’s aging Jeep, but Jason had seen, when he had serviced it before, how the general had babied it. Kept it in excellent condition.
Let experts—like Jason—work on it.
Now, though, it was gone—a pile of mostly metal debris. Smelly, fire-scarred, isolated wreckage that Jason was currently examining, all by himself.
He had done as ordered and found a rare location within the main garage that contained only a few spaces, an area on the third floor where only the top brass were authorized to park. A secure enough area that, by closing a garage door and erecting a barrier comprised of excess metal and wood from recent construction on the base, he’d been able to jerry-rig a portion into a pretty secure area after hauling the wreckage there in the truck he’d rented.
He’d been there for a while now, initially just staring at what was left of the deceased Jeep.
As he’d been told, he had found some security guys who were not members of either Alpha Force or that damned Ultra Special Forces Team, and given them orders to show up in about an hour to guard the general’s former car.
That was one good thing about being a sergeant. Even though he was a noncommissioned officer,
