Page 12 of Tracking the Alpha
Still no answer.
“Gonna give me any details?” she snarked as her home came into view.
“It’s up to the major to brief you,” was the stiff reply.
“It can talk!” she crowed.
“I can’t speak about classified missions,” the guy said as they reached her place.
Getting inside proved awkward, seeing as how her wrist remained tethered to the soldier, meaning she went in sideways.
“I’m gonna need details if I’m expected to hunt down and handle the problem,” she grumbled as she dragged the soldier into her bedroom—the first guy to be in there in over a year—and began opening drawers.
“The major will?—”
“Brief me. Yeah. Yeah,” she muttered. “Can you at least tell me what kind of terrain and temperature I’m looking at?”
“Very similar to your current locale.”
A clue that didn’t help much. She’d hoped to find out where they were taking her. She packed warm, the fall weather nice during the day but getting a cold bite at night. Socks, tees, sweaters, jeans, vest, toques, gloves, orange vest and matching cap, plus her hiking boots took care of the clothes. She’d wear her fleece-lined jacket and runners for the trip.
Next, she went to her gun cabinet, the key for it kept on a chain around her neck. As she opened it, the soldier said, “The major will provide you with weaponry.”
“Which will be unfamiliar and unsighted. I’ll take my own.” She placed her Winchester model 70 in the carrying case, along with some 22-250 ammo. She also grabbed her compound bow and quiver, which led to the soldier blurting out, “Why are you bringing that?”
“Because if we’re dealing with a pack, they’ll scatter with the first gunshot. With this baby, I can usually bag a couple before they get spooked.” She grabbed some urine bait spray, the kind not made in a store, before saying, “Okay, let’s get this show on the road. I’d like to get this over with so I can be back home before the snow starts.” Which according to Agnes Light Tail, their current shaman, would be soon.
The soldier carried her clothing bag after a bit of arguing, as he felt he should be the one in charge of her weapons. She put a stop to that, saying, “No one touches my gear but me.” Tanis wouldn’t take the chance someone fucked with the settings on her gun or bow, as it could mean the difference between bagging her prey or becoming its next meal.
Some animal specialists claimed wolves didn’t pose a threat. Partially true. Wolves, with full bellies, usually avoided conflict with humans. However, Tanis had come face to face more than once with a hungry pack. Their baleful yellow gaze made it clear they saw people as meat.
The helicopter’s rotors were already sluggishly turning as they made their way to the open door of the cabin. The major stood by it, pinch-faced and tapping his foot impatiently.
“Took long enough,” he grumbled. “Did you have to pack so much? Two bags? Really? This isn’t a holiday.”
“Seeing as how you’ve yet to give me any actual details, I’d rather be prepared. Only one bag is for clothes; the rest is my hunting gear.”
“Hardly necessary since we will supply you with anything you need.”
“I’d rather use my own things,” she snapped.
“Your attitude is unacceptable.”
“Ditto,” she said with a smirk.
The major’s face tightened, and he muttered, “Civilians.” Then in a louder tone said, “You can cut her loose now.”
The soldier quickly pulled a knife and sliced the plastic holding them together, leaving her with a bracelet as a reminder. She cast a glance at her house and sighed. Hopefully the chief would send someone by to keep an eye on it.
“Let’s go,” barked the major.
“Coming,” she muttered as she clambered into the helicopter. Not her first time riding in one. She’d actually flown a few times, surveilling areas before hunting.
She would have liked to watch their departure from a window but found herself crammed between the major and the soldier who’d been her shadow.
As they left the ground, she began asking questions of the major. “Where are we going?”
“Cold Lake Base to catch a plane.”
