Page 55 of Shadow Blind

“Kalikoia.” His brother’s answer was short, like Aiden should have known the answer.

Facing forward again, Aiden scowled. How the hell would he know that?

Wolf might be embedded in the Kalikoia culture, but Aiden wanted no part of it. His heritage was the one his dad had taught him, the one his dad had chosen for himself. It was SEAL culture and community. Their dad had left his tribal heritage behind, forged a new life and alternative path. He’d done so for a reason: because he wanted no part of the culture he’d grown up within. Aiden was content to follow in his father’s footsteps.

The main level had all the typical base stuff. Cross walks. Blinking caution lights where tunnels intersected. Signs with arrows pointing in various directions. Still, a strong science fiction vibe permeated the base. The walls looked like some kind of strange metallic mesh, with circular embedded lights. The road beneath the vehicle’s wheels was black, but with hints of iridescence. Everything looked sleek and black and futuristic.

Unlike the exits, the doors along the roadway were labeled in English and Kalikoia, which was handy. He knew where the cafeteria was now. The supply and weapons depots too. His eyebrows rose as they passed by a recreational center, followed by a cinema. This place had all the comforts of home. Opaque doors embedded into the walls periodically split in the middle, whooshing to both sides as people walked through them.

“Where did you stash our detainees?” Did Shadow Mountain even have a brig? Probably. Base jails were a staple of the industry.

“Command Central,” Wolf said shortly, without looking at him.

Was he still pissed about Aiden’s lack of tribal knowledge? His big bro had been trying to pull him into the whole tribal schtick for years. When would Wolf get it through his thick noggin that he wasn’t interested?

Wolf kept driving. And driving. And driving. The road shifted to a plain concrete webbed with cracks. Same with the walls. The doors were hinged wood, with actual doorknobs. The vibe was chipped fatigue, rather than modern futuristic. Eventually, Wolf pulled into a parking slot in front of a recessed wood door. HQ was painted in faded white letters above the door frame. Headquarters? Seemed odd that a Native American base would use military terminology.

Aiden climbed out of the cart and followed Wolf to the door. A dark-haired dude with a long, dangling braid looked up from his desk in the center of the tight foyer. Recognition flared on his face as soon as his gaze landed on Wolf. He straightened in his desk chair.

“Betanee.” The guard bent his head, respect in both his tone and posture.

Wolf paused before the desk. “Benioko awaits us. Let him know we are here.”

The guard inclined his head. “Of course, Betanee.”

There was that word again, and the guard’s response sounded almost ceremonial, but Aiden didn’t ask for an explanation. Wouldn’t want to rile big bro again.

“Your shaman is assisting us in the interrogation?” He wouldn’t have considered prisoner interviews to be included in shamanistic duties.

“He wishes to speak with us before we begin.”

Aiden studied the building as they walked side-by-side down the long, gray hall. Fuck, the place was dingy. Gray on gray. The floor was thinner in the middle, like thousands of boots through the years had left their mark.

Wolf stopped in front of an open door and gestured for Aiden to enter. The room beyond reminded him of the briefing rooms he’d occupied throughout his career. The same vast table, with the same rolling chairs. Only this table was oblong, rather than rectangular, and the wood was full of carved words. Hundreds upon hundreds of Kalikoia words. He skimmed over them, suspecting they were names, although he didn’t recognize any of them. Neither Cosky nor the rest of his former SEAL teammates were carved into the surface. Was that because they were still alive? If so, and these names honored dead warriors, then Shadow Mountain had a monumental safety problem.

While special operators died on the job, fatalities weren’t as common as most people believed. His gaze narrowed on the surface of the table. Sure as hell not this common.

The sudden burn in his chest and tightening of his throat surprised him. Flashbacks went off like fireworks in his mind.

The grotesque winking of Grub’s eye. “Don’t fucking move.” The lift of a rifle. Twitching fingers and eyes. “Calm down, bro.” Squirrel’s voice, first calm, then cold. Rifles lifting. Crack. Crack. Crack. Sprays of ruby red and dull gray streaking the snow-scuffed ground.

Shuddering, Aiden shoved the memories aside.

The burn got worse. It climbed his throat and singed his mouth, then tried to rush his mind…his memory. He took a deep breath and forced the fire back.

I’ll make them pay, guys. They won’t get away with what they did to you.

The promise doused the flame to an ember but kept the spark alive. He’d find out who was behind Karaveht. He’d make the bastard pay. But he wouldn’t allow the rage to consume him, either. He had his own life to live, which included mending his relationship with the woman he loved.

He took a seat at the back of the table. Wolf sat in the chair beside him. His mouth watered as he caught sight of a coffee pot and stacks of Styrofoam cups on a table against the wall. Perfect. He stood up and headed to the coffee stand. A strong cup of joe would fix him right up.

Someone must have recently filled the pot, as the black gold hit his cup in steaming spurts. He returned to his chair and savored the scent of fresh coffee as he sipped. Just how he liked it…strong enough to strip paint.

Wolf stood the instant an old man shuffled into the room. He greeted the elder with a bent head and shoulders. Aiden rose as well. Ah…the great Benioko, he presumed.

“Taounaha.” Wolf’s voice was heavy and deep, and thick with respect.

Aiden silently repeated the word. He’d heard it before, but what did it mean? The word was obviously Kalikoia, but it hadn’t been the shaman’s name. It must represent a tribal rank or title. Not that he intended to ask. Ever. No sense in opening himself to more of his brother’s snarky looks. Aiden settled for mimicking Wolf’s bent posture.

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