Page 1 of Tracking the Alpha
Prologue
“General!” Major Stevens barged into General Walt Davidson’s tent, ruining his planned nap.
“You’d better have a good excuse for invading my tent without permission,” snarled Walt, his patience short given the many restless nights spent tossing and turning on his wretched cot.
“Sir, something’s happened and you’re needed in the medical tent right away,” huffed Stevens, his face flushed either from excitement or heat.
“Whatever’s occurred, I highly doubt it requires my presence,” drawled Walt. “Let the doctors handle it.”
“But, sir?—”
Walt interrupted. “There are no buts. I’m a busy man who doesn’t have time for panic when there is clear protocol to follow. If someone died, fill out the paperwork and I’ll look it over when I’m back at my desk.”
“No one died, sir. It’s something else. Something never seen before.”
Not words any leader liked to hear and Walt eyed the short distance between him and the major. “If the medical team is dealing with a possible contagion, then they should be quarantining everyone that comes into contact with Patient Zero, which includes you, Major, if you were exposed. I shouldn’t have to tell you this.”
“It’s not a disease, sir. At least, we don’t think it is?” The statement ended on a lilting query. “It’s actually rather incredible. The higher-ups will want to hear about it.”
Dammit, despite himself, intrigue roused, and Walt pursed his lips. The major, not a man usually prone to panic or drama, appeared quite flustered. “What exactly is going on in medical?”
“I’d explain, but honestly, you have to see it to believe it.”
So much for his nap. “This better be good,” Walt grumbled as he buttoned his jacket, rendering himself presentable. Uniform standards could be annoying, especially in the dry desert heat of the Middle East where he’d been stationed. Six months since he’d arrived to run the peacekeeping mission a few hundred kilometers from Kandahar. Six months of dust in everything. Military food rations. Extreme heat that resulted in grumpy troops, a mood only worsened by the lack of action. The Canadian Armed Forces too often took turning the other cheek too far. Even when insurgents attacked their peaceful convoys meant to help the people in the area, they’d been ordered to not retaliate. What a joke. Why bother sending soldiers if they weren’t allowed to fight?
Walt exited the tent and, despite the dusty haze stretching across the sky, squinted to see. The sun blared, hot and bright. It rose without fail every fucking day. He never thought he’d miss the gloomy cold days of winter back in Canada.
As Walt followed Major Stevens through the camp of tents and crates, soldiers lounging about snapped to attention, heels clacking together, hands angled and hitting their foreheads in a salute.
Walt acknowledged no one. One didn’t achieve and maintain a fierce reputation by being friendly with the lower ranks.
The medical tent, clearly marked with a giant red cross, had a half-dozen armed soldiers surrounding it, raising his brow. “Is there a threat inside? You assured me there was no contagion.”
“It’s a precaution,” the major answered. “While the soldier being treated has the potential to cause injury, I was more concerned about ensuring he couldn’t escape.”
More and more mysterious. So this was about someone under his command.
As Walt stepped past the stiff guards, he pulled aside the flap covering the doorway. “Well, let’s see what’s got you in such a—” The next words died on his tongue. As Walt’s eyes narrowed, he muttered, “How did a wolf get inside our medical tent?”
“That’s not a wolf, sir. You’re looking at Corporal Mato Nakai,” Major Stevens announced.
The tall wolf stood between a pair of medical gurneys with its hackles raised, growling at the soldiers pointing guns at it. Dr. Levy stood behind them, looking pale.
“Explain, Major.”
“Not much to tell, sir. Corporal Nakai was out with his section delivering supplies to one of the rural villages. Upon their return to camp, they were attacked. The vehicle they were in flipped and rolled. Two soldiers died instantly. Nakai and Philips were severely injured and brought back to camp for treatment.”
“We were attacked and this the first I’m hearing of it?” Walt snapped.
“You told me to not bother you unless it was a real emergency,” the major reminded. “I was preparing a report to present later when the doctor on duty had me fetched to show me what happened to Corporal Nakai.”
“And what is the doctor claiming happened?” Walt crossed his arms over his chest.
“Well, apparently when Dr. Levy started cleaning the corporal’s wounds, Nakai went into convulsions and transformed from a man to this.” The major swept a hand in the direction of the wolf.
“Do you take me for an idiot?” Walt didn’t fall for the elaborate prank. Bored soldiers sometimes thought they could pull a fast one on their commanding officer. They’d soon find out he didn’t brook that kind of frivolous nonsense.
“Sir?”
