No point arguing. “Fine. If Kiara wants to go on a few dates after my mission, I’ll do it.” Could he persuade her to lean toward his more liberal politics? Why not give the attractive alpha one more chance? At least for a few dates. Maybe she’d mellowed out. Despite what Conan wanted, Steele didn’t plan on leaving Team Greywolf. Even if Kiara changed her attitude, royal duties bored the hell out of him. He couldn’t imagine the princess would be okay with him as part of the team. She was the daughter of one of the most power-hungry pack leaders, Milton; who, if he could, would gladly usurp the king of his crown.
“What mission?”
“I’m sorry, bro, top secret.”
“I was going to talk to Rylee tomorrow about your resignation, but I’ll do it today.”
“Too late. I can’t back out. If I do, it could cost millions of lives.” Conan wouldn't care about the loss of life, but he might care about the family's loss of respect by going back on his word.
“Who else is going?”
Steele had prepared for this assignment for months. Alone, he would work with the CIA’s special operation group or SAD-SOG. His ID, as ex-Navy SEAL, was fake. None except a mysterious operative known as Mr. H. knew he was a werewolf working for the LIA. Ironically, the LIA modeled itself after the special operations group. “Top secret.”
Conan growled. “Damn it.” He released a long breath. “When do you return?”
“I’ll be back no later than two weeks.”
“Very well. When you return, I’ll order a banquet for you and Kiara.”
Dining with the haughty princess wasn’t the ideal homecoming. “Agreed.”
Gaby frowned at the caller ID, Director Rick Giles. What now? She’d only been gone a week. He promised to let her have a month break. She looked forward to working on her wildlife paintings. At age twenty-five, she’d finally been allowed to live in her own cabin a mile from the gates of SABER or Strategic Animal Behavior Research Center. Better known as Project Sabertooth. Isolated from the rest of society, Gaby didn’t mind living alone. She and humans never mixed. Every moment with a person outside her world felt awkward. She preferred animals. They understood her and held no judgment. Besides, no matter where she lived, she remained bound to Project Sabertooth. One did not make friends when leashed to people who got rid of acquaintances if they thought they exposed the project’s existence.
Any minute, a driver would take her to the sprawling hidden research lab. She read the message. “You are needed immediately in the canine lab.” She texted back. “I’m ready.” She put away her paints and soaked her brushes in the sink. At least it was mid-morning and not the middle of the night. “Come on, Oz.” Gaby sighed. Habit. She missed her Cairn terrier, Oz. He died in her arms of old age only a month ago. Still grieving, she wanted to wait at least a few more months before getting another dog.
The black SUV pulled up her driveway. Gaby stared at the dry paint on her hands. No time to wash, she’d scrub off the stains in the decontamination room.
The honk meant, “Get your ass out here.”
Gaby grabbed her coat.
She smirked at the stone-cold man who opened the backseat passenger door. “Nice to see you, too”
The driver and the other guy riding shockgun didn’t even nod. Robots. Such were the tough black ops men who worked for Project Sabertooth.
Gaby got in and buckled her seatbelt.
They drove through the isolated forest to the secret compound. Which dog acted up? Or maybe they brought in another dog for training. The place had the best behaviorist and trainers. They only called on her services when the problem was big or they needed her for an assignment outside headquarters. Often a deadly mission.
The secured gate opened and they entered the underground parking. The driver opened the car door and she stepped out.
“Director Giles wants you in the zero-level kennel isolation room.”
Inside the elevator, a camera watched her every move. Once the elevator touched level zero, a robotic female voice said, “Retinal scan.”
Gaby placed her chin on the scanner and stared straight ahead.
“Enter.”
Gaby walked down a long tunnel. The soldier dogs barked, but then quieted. As always, they calmed in her presence. She entered another door that required her palm scan for entry. She pressed her palm to the scanner and it said, “Decontamination room.” This was not the hot zone where biological weaponized animals were housed. In that area, she had to wear a bio suit.
Nonetheless, Gaby took off her clothes, bagged them, and showered with a mist to kill any ecto-parasites she might inadvertently bring in. She stepped out of the shower, went to the sink, and scrubbed off the paint from her hands. Gaby grabbed green coveralls, lab slippers, and entered the kennel isolation room.
Director Giles stood next to a medic inside the large steel cage. She stared at the largest grey wolf she’d ever seen. The size of a bear. Unconscious. Breathing steadily.
Gaby lifted her brow. “Is it a genetically modified wolf?”
Giles turned to her. “You have no idea what we discovered.”