"Or maybe he has, and he's just waiting for the right time to strike," Troy said, causing all of them to turn and look at him with very thoughtful expressions on their faces.

  "You know what?" SJ said suddenly. "I'm gonna go talk to Chad about putting a quick reaction force together—about two brigades worth of quick reaction force."

  "Yeah, and I think I may need to have a talk with Jack as well," Sean said slowly. "Thanks for that, Troy. You just earned your pay for the month."

  Troy laughed again. "Wait! You mean I'm supposed to get paid for this?"

  Sean snorted, and the others all laughed.

  "Thanks for coming," SJ said. "If you discover anything, let me and Dad know."

  Troy nodded along with everyone else as they got up and filed out of the room.

  "It has to be camouflaged," Clyde said to him as soon as they got outside. "If they're less than two miles long, that puts both ends within two miles of the border."

  Troy nodded slowly in agreement. "And we've been scouting that border for twenty years now. You know what? I don't think they're going to find it with the satellite photos."

  "Yeah, me neither," Clyde agreed. "They probably put it up back when they were building the barrier, which was before they got the satellite."

  "So how do we find it, then?"

  "I don't know, but you've got all weekend to come up with something."

  "Me? Why me?" Troy asked, giving Clyde a surprised look.

  "Because I just put you in charge of the perimeter along Basun's portion of the fence. That's why."

  "Gee, thanks!"

  "Hey, you're the smartass in the group; if you can't figure out how to find something like this, who can?"

  Troy grinned. "Well, it's always nice to have my genius recognized!"

  "I said you were a smartass, not a genius."

  "Smartass, smart head, close enough for government work!" Troy snickered. "Well, I gotta jet. I need to spend an hour or two familiarizing myself with my new territory so I can make plans!"

  "Wait, remember what your brother said!" Clyde said as Troy shifted into full cheetah, and then literally disappeared from sight.

  "Damn, I hate when he does that," Clyde grumbled and headed back to his office.

  Terrain Following

  Troy headed out to the east. There was a bit of a trail he and a few of the others took to get off the mountain and out onto the plains east of Lyon peak. As soon as he hit the flats, he opened up his stride, and picked up speed. When he finally made it to Highway 50, he was able to really run flat out, passing traffic like they were standing still.

  He probably could have called for a helicopter to take him out, but then someone might notice. However, a lone cheetah running down the road…well, he had more than a few cousins who'd moved to the area, so it wasn't like people didn't see the occasional yellow blur flying down the roadways.

  He made it to Ely a little before noon, turned up Highway 93, and headed for the section headquarters. If he caught a flight at five or six, he'd probably make it back in time for Ryan's party. If not, oh well, but he figured he could check out some of the fence line and talk to the guys at the camps if he had any questions. He'd been working the northeastern and northwestern portions of the border, and didn't really know squat about things down here, and it looked like it was time to learn.

  "State your business," the guard at the gate said in a bored voice as Troy trotted up to the gate.

  Shifting into his hybrid form, Troy took his identification card out of his collar and held it out.

  "Troy Valens. I just got assigned to the area as a special projects scout," he said.

  The guard checked his ID against his hand unit.

  "Says here you work the northern border."

  "Call Clyde, SJ, or my dad, if you want," Troy said with a shrug. "I just got it handed to me a couple hours ago and figured I'd get a head start."

  "Well, you've got the clearance, but I'll let the colonel know you're here. I'd suggest reporting to him first."

  Troy nodded and took his ID back, nodded to the other guards, jogged past the gate, and followed the signs to the head shed. As this was the section headquarters, things were a little better here. There were over a dozen hangars, a runway, and a large landing area for Goshawks and Blackhawks. The headquarters building was also something a bit better than the shipping containers so much of these places seemed to be made out of.

  Showing his ID to the door guards, he went inside, and immediately found the door he was looking for. The nameplate declared the man inside was Colonel Steve Heller. He knocked on it and heard a woman's voice call out 'Come in!' so opening the door, he stepped inside.

  The room he stepped into was an outer office, and there was a cute female leopard receptionist who gave him a very appreciative look, and then jerked a thumb over her shoulder.

  "He's expecting you."

  "Thanks!" Troy said, smiling, and he winked at her, causing her to roll her eyes and shake her head. At least she smiled back.

  "Colonel Heller," Troy said, stepping inside and smiling at the wolf lycan sitting behind the desk in an Army uniform, "I'm Troy Valens, senior scout."

  "Mr. Valens, do you always report to duty wearing only a pair of shorts?" the colonel asked, looking him over.

  "Actually, Colonel, today's my day off. When Clyde told me he was putting me on this new project, I figured I'd come out and take a look around so I could hit the ground running come Sunday. I wasn't expecting to see you, sir."

  Troy smiled as the colonel suddenly looked a lot less concerned.

  "Well, if you're willing to come in on your day off, and it hasn't even been made official yet, I guess I shouldn't feel insulted. I didn't hear anything fly in; how'd you get here?"

  "Oh, I ran."

  "You ran?"

  "I needed the exercise. If you get any complaints about a yellow blur on Highway 50, that would've been me."

  "Cheetahs," Colonel Heller sighed, shaking his head. "So, what's this new project Clyde's got brewing?"

  "Actually, it's one of SJ's, and I'm not allowed to talk about it. Sorry. You'll have to ask him."

  Colonel Heller surprised him by just nodding. "I won't press, then. Last thing I need is him or your dad chewing my ass out. If there's one thing I've learned in the last twenty years, it's that making a lion angry isn't a healthy proposition."

  Troy laughed. "It's worse having one for a father. The lectures whenever you fuck up are epic."

  "Epic? How's that?"

  "Last time I got chewed out, I had to sit in a chair for twenty hours while I got lectured, and I only got one piss break. Trust me, that alone was torture!"

  Troy grinned as Colonel Heller laughed. "Yeah, well, I've heard some of the stories of your exploits back at base, so you're not going to get much in the way of sympathy out of me. So what can I do for you, Scout Valens?"

  "Troy, please, and I was hoping to hitch a ride on the next patrol that goes out, maybe talk to some of the troops about what goes on out here? I've never worked the southern border, so I want to get an idea of what's different."

  "Sounds smart. Come on," Colonel Heller said, getting out of his chair, "I'll introduce you to Captain Curtis. He's got the watch right now. If anyone can fill you in, he can."

  "Thanks, Colonel. I appreciate it."

  "Eh, I've met your dad and your brother more than once. Couple of your older sisters, too. I've noticed you kids always seem to get the hard jobs, so I'm sure it'll be in my best interest to help you out."

  "Yeah, this whole thing is kinda personal to us."

  The colonel led him out of his office, waving to his secretary as he passed. Troy gave her a wink on the way out and almost laughed as she sighed dramatically.

  "She keeps a shotgun under her desk and isn't afraid to use it," Colonel Heller told him as they left the building.

  "Thanks for the warning!" Troy said, still smiling.

  They ended up at another of the shipping container-type buildings by the helipads.

  "As you were," Colonel Heller said as he stepped inside, before anyone could call the room to attention. He led Troy over to a desk with another wolf in an Army uniform sitting behind it. This one was wearing captain's bars.

  "Captain Curtis, this is Scout Troy Valens; he's here on his day off to familiarize himself with our situation. He'll be working here as of Sunday. Please extend him every courtesy."

  "Of course!" Captain Curtis said, shaking hands with Troy.

  "I'll leave you to it then, Troy," Colonel Heller said, shaking his hand as well before leaving. "I'll make sure the word gets around that you're one of ours now."

  "Thanks, Colonel!" Troy said, still smiling.

  "Well, have a seat," Captain Curtis said after the colonel had left.

  "Thanks!"

  "So, do you ever stop smiling?" Captain Curtis asked as they both sat back down.

  "With my rep, it keeps everyone on their toes," Troy said with a chuckle.

  "So I've heard. Should I be worried?"

  "Nah. I never pull pranks while on duty, or on the folks working."

  "Good to know. So what can I do for you?"

  "Well, can we start with the standard ops brief? I know Lord Basun is the djevel in charge down here, but I've never run up against him or any of his before."

  Captain Curtis nodded. "As good a place as any to start, I guess."

  It took Captain Curtis about an hour to go over what they knew about Basun, what they thought he was trying to do, and what interactions he was having with the lord to the north of him, as well as Prince Talt to the west.

  "Of course, Talt's dead now, so..."

  They were interrupted suddenly by the alert phone on the captain's desk. Captain Curtis didn't even hesitate, he grabbed it.

  "Yes?" There was a pause. "Where?" Another pause. "Got it!"

  He hung up the phone and hit the bar under the microphone on his desk.

  "Alert! Alert! Scramble to grid square blue twenty-four! We have a group of at least a dozen djevels trying to breach the perimeter at blue two-four!"

  "Hey, okay if I go along?" Troy asked.

  "Fine by me. Here's my rifle and my harness," Captain Curtis said, spinning around in his chair to grab the carbine propped against the wall behind him and the gear harness next to it.

  "Thanks!" Troy said, grabbing both of them as he ran out the door.

  "Damn, he's quick!" one of the sergeants said with a shocked expression.

  "Well, yeah, he's a cheetah!" Captain Curtis laughed. He could see on the flight line monitor mounted on the wall that Troy was already climbing into the back of the Blackhawk that was spinning up to launch.

  Troy donned the harness as he ran for the helicopter, then slung the carbine, and slid to a halt by the door gunner, who was looking at him.

  "Senior Scout Troy. Captain Curtis said I could ride along."

  The wolf gunner nodded, and Troy jumped into the back with the half dozen others who were in there. Someone thrust a headset at him, which he put on, and then plugged in as the Blackhawk quickly lifted into the sky.

  He got himself strapped down and listened with half an ear to what the copilot was relating to the rest of the soldiers as he checked his defensive and offensive frameworks, making sure he had a good shield spell up. Normally he didn't like going into combat without armor, but oh, well.

  "So, new guy! Who are you?" the copilot asked.

  "Senior Scout Troy. Come Sunday, I'm gonna be working on a few things out here."

  "Today's Friday."

  "Yeah, well, you know us cheetahs, always gotta get there first!"

  There were a couple of laughs over the intercom, and the leopard on the other door gun gave him a thumbs up.

  "Yeah, you're all too fast for me," the copilot agreed.

  "So where are we off to?"

  "Oh, a small group of bonde and a couple gnashers are trying to get through the fence a few miles southeast of here."

  "What, no råge or anything else driving them?"

  "Sometimes, but not usually."

  "What do you mean, 'usually'? This happen a lot?"

  "Eh, once or twice a week."

  "That's odd. Never seen that up north."

  "Well, we usually tag a couple, and the rest run back home to wherever the hell it is they come from," the leopard door gunner said, charging his machinegun. "It's rare anybody gets out, so I doubt you scouts ever hear about it."

  Troy made a mental note to check with Sal, the mare who ran the scouts in this section, to see whether she had or not.

  "Mind if I slide over to the door and watch?"

  "Jasper, move over and let Troy look," the copilot said.

  Troy adjusted his harness and slid over to look out the side of the helicopter as the pilot banked around. He saw the group trying to get to the fence about the same time the gunner did. Putting his rifle to his shoulder, he waited for the gunner to open fire, then he picked off the ones the gunner wasn't following when they scattered.

  "Damn, that's some pretty fine shooting!" the pilot said over the intercom.

  "Eh, my mom's a bit of a stickler. You don't hit the target, you don't eat!" Troy laughed.

  "Damn, sounds like my dad," the leopard muttered.

  "How many got away?" the copilot asked.

  "Three," Troy, the leopard gunner, and the pilot said in unison.

  "So why all the support if they're so easy to run off?" Troy asked.

  "Because sometimes, they shoot back."

  "Can we go down and take a look at 'em?"

  "What for?" the pilot asked.

  "I want to see whose colors they're wearing."

  "Sure. Jasper, Kevin, Rod, and Healy, keep him company. We'll orbit and keep cover until you call us in."

  Troy safed his weapon, and the pilot brought them around, coming down and hovering over the spot just long enough for the five of them to spill out the door. Troy and Healy—who were the only cats—landed on their feet, but the three wolves were up more than fast enough as the Blackhawk climbed back up and circled around.

  "This gonna take long?" Jasper asked with what sounded like a Cajun accent to Troy's ear.

  "Not very. Keep your eyes north. If there was a råge or a ridder driving this bunch, that's where they're gonna be."

  Troy ran over to the last one they'd shot. It was a bonde, and sure enough, it was wearing Basun's warpaint. The next one was a gnasher, and they never got colors, then he came to another bonde that was starting to melt, and it had Basun's paint on it as well.

  He then did a quick circuit of the area to look at the other bodies. Three bonde, six gnashers.

  "I'm done; flag 'em down, and let's go back to the barn," Troy said, walking over to the others.

  Jasper waved his arm, and the Blackhawk did a brief turn away, before turning back towards them to line up for pickup, when suddenly the door gunner on the port side opened up and hosed down the side of the hill. Troy brought his carbine up immediately, flipped off the safety, and looked for a target. The others dropped prone and provided covering fire, and that was when he saw it. There was a ridder back a couple hundred yards or so with a råge and a dozen bonde.

  And one of them had an RPG.

  "Shit!" Troy swore and quickly cast an accuracy spell he'd developed a long time ago so he could cheat at shooting, because Mom really did make him skip dinner if she felt he wasn't shooting well enough, and popped the råge with the RPG that was tracking their Blackhawk. Its head exploded from his shot just as it triggered the RPG, sending it flying towards the Blackhawk.

  Thankfully, the shot went wide, as the pilot slipped the Blackhawk sideways. Either the shot had knocked off the djevel's aim, or the bullet to the head had caused it to spasm and pull the trigger.

  Meanwhile, the other four were concentrating their fire on the ridder now, which knew better than to try to take cover with the machineguns on the helicopter above, so it ran off to the north, retreating quickly, and leaving the bonde behind, probably hoping they'd draw fire.

  "That was pretty stupid, just standing there and not taking cover!" Healy said, looking at him from the ground. "You're not wearing armor!"

  Troy smiled down at the cougar hybrid; she was kinda cute, he had to admit. "They wanted to take out our Blackhawk. If they'd gotten it, then I'd have been in trouble."

  "Makes sense," Jasper said. "Now, let's get aboard fast so we can jet on outta here."

  They split into two groups, and the pilot put it right between them, only slowing down and not stopping. It was a quick scramble to get on, the leopard door gunner grabbing Jasper's harness with one hand, Healy's with his other, and hauling them in. Troy just dove over the two of them into the middle.

  "So who do we have to thank for taking out that RPG?" the pilot yelled back as they got their headsets back on. Troy almost laughed as all four of them pointed at him.

  "Nice shooting! That sucker would have definitely ruined our day!"

  "Eh, it was just like home."

  "How's that?"

  "Like I said before, if I'd a missed, I wouldn't a' gotten any dinner!"

  He heard a couple of snorts, and a few of them shook their heads.

  He smiled and thought about what he'd just seen. A ridder had run a bunch of low-level djevels up to the fence and made them stay there until most of them were killed. There was no way they hadn't heard them coming; the Blackhawk wasn't running a silence spell, and even if it was, it was daytime, and Blackhawks weren't exactly small.

  "Does this ever happen at night?" he asked, suddenly curious.

  "Yeah, most of the time, but every few weeks, they try during the day. Guess they were planning on trying to pop us with that RPG, so they wanted to improve their chances," the copilot said.

  Troy shook his head a little. If he hadn't asked to take a look at the bodies, the djevel with the RPG would never have had a shot. He turned to the leopard door gunner who'd opened fire on the djevels.

  "How'd you spot 'em?"

  "I didn't. I saw a badger running towards you guys, and I've seen what they can do. Guess it was running away from them, or they'd spooked it. They didn't pop up until I opened fire."