Linda Johnston - Untamed Wolf

And then Sara spotted smoke pouring out of the car’s back end.

Chapter 4

What the hell? Jason didn’t need Sara’s frantic shouts of fear, magnified by his canine senses, to spur him to dash to the burning vehicle that suddenly veered off to the side.

He assessed the situation as he ran toward the front of the car. He kept all assumptions and fears, all emotions, in check. Now was only a time for action.

He had worked on the general’s Jeep a couple of times when the old man had come to Ft. Lukman for meetings since Jason’s recent enlistment. It was an early 1990s model Jeep, not quite old enough to be a classic, but still an admirable aging vehicle.

The gasoline tank was in the back—near where the smoke was pouring from, but down low, beneath the axle. That model’s gas tank was built well, to prevent catching fire from sparks off the road or otherwise. Everything should be fine.

Except that the tires were flammable. So were the seats, the carpeting, the safety belts...

And right now, there was plenty of smoke. What remained of the canvas cover could confine a lot of it inside, enhancing the danger of smoke inhalation by the general.

Plus, depending on the location and intensity of the fire...well, despite the built-in precautions, there were no guarantees that the gas tank wouldn’t explode.

Jason aimed for the driver’s door, shoving his hands in his pockets as he ran to check for anything useful. Despite his dedication to working on cars, he didn’t coincidentally happen to carry tools that people were supposed to keep in their glove compartments to shatter windows in emergencies. All he had were keys. A pocket knife. His cell phone.

Nothing likely to be helpful.

Was the general still conscious? The haphazard way the car now progressed suggested otherwise. Yet if he was, maybe Jason could get him to turn off the engine and take the thing out of gear. Push the button to unlock the driver’s door.

For now, he would assume the commanding officer remained alive. He had no evidence he wasn’t...at least not yet.

The stench of burning rubber and more grew even ranker as he arrived at the vehicle, but Jason ignored it. He also ignored the shouts of other people. All behind him? He saw no one closer to the car than he was.

Unsure what was searing hot and what wasn’t, he yanked off his camo shirt and wrapped it around his right hand.

He reached the door and looked in. Smoke. Lots of it. But in the middle of it all, Jason could see that the general appeared conscious—barely. His eyes were open. His hands? Moving, but not in the right direction to get him out of there.

Jason first tried to yank the door open, to no avail. He pounded on the window to get the general’s attention. “It’s locked!” he shouted as Yarrow’s head jerked toward him. Had he heard? Was he aware enough to understand?

Yarrow, one hand at his mouth as he coughed, turned toward the door. In a moment, Jason heard a click that probably wouldn’t be audible to someone with normal human hearing, but with his acute senses it sounded nice and loud. He again tried the door.

This time it opened.

He coughed, too, as smoke smothered his face and his ability to breathe. But it didn’t completely mask visibility.

“Let me help,” said a familiar female voice from behind him. Sara McLinder. The lieutenant had kept up with him.

“Stay back,” he said as he leaned inside.

But she apparently wasn’t used to obeying orders from lower-ranking soldiers. As Jason leaned in and grasped the now-limp body of the general, he was suddenly glad that was so.

He needed to get the CO out of there fast. In moments, as he thrust his hands under the general’s armpits and heaved him out, he found Sara, despite also coughing, grabbing the legs and swinging Yarrow even farther from the frying car.

Others who’d caught up with them, Lieutenants Seth Ambers and Grace Andreas-Parran, also helped to form a stretcher of human—well, somewhat human—arms.

Grace was a doctor as well as a shifting member of Alpha Force. It was still too soon to have her check the general’s condition, though. Awkwardly but quickly, Jason helped the group maneuver the general’s barely conscious body far from the car and within a parking area near the base’s entry kiosk.

The harsh smell of the fire suddenly multiplied, and so did the background odor of oil as the flames apparently reached the engine. How secure was the gas tank now?

Jason swiftly noticed that he wasn’t the only Alpha Force member helping here whose eyes had widened as their noses lifted.

And then, kaboom! As loudly and completely as any explosion in an action movie, the general’s car detonated.

* * *

“Sir? Are you okay? Greg?” Sara wasn’t certain where the tarp had come from on which they gently laid the general down on the hard parking lot surface. Maybe from one of the vehicles parked nearby. It didn’t matter.

What did matter was how her boss, commanding officer to many of those present at Ft. Lukman, was doing.

Was he still alive?

He hadn’t responded to her queries, which she knew sounded pitifully plaintive. Maybe he couldn’t hear her. She wasn’t right beside him now. Not the way things had worked out as the group of them had laid him down gently.

She therefore maneuvered around on the periphery of the tarp to be nearer to his head, not exactly elbowing others out of her way but coming close to it.

She prayed she didn’t imagine it, but the general’s chest seemed to be moving slowly, indicating he was breathing.

“General Yarrow? Sir?” she said, louder this time and definitely closer to his ears, not caring that her voice broke as she addressed him.

He was her mentor. Her friend.

And he might be dying.

Sure, she was a soldier. She had joined the military prepared to go into combat. To lose comrades in arms, if necessary.

But not here, on U.S. soil.

And not this very kind, very wonderful man.

She moved even closer, only to find her way blocked by Jason. “You probably haven’t met Lieutenant Grace Andreas-Parran yet,” he said to Sara, gesturing to the woman in camo uniform, like all of them, who knelt at the general’s other side. “She’s a medical doctor as well as a member of Alpha Force.”

“Oh.” Sara knew what Jason wasn’t saying. She needed to back off. Let the doctor do what she could for the general.

Grace was slim and attractive, with blond hair so pale that it almost looked silver.

More important, her luminous brown eyes were narrowed as she concentrated on scanning the general’s body. From what Sara could see, his camo uniform was intact. Unsinged. Maybe he hadn’t been burned.

That didn’t mean he would survive. Smoke inhalation could kill people. And so far Sara didn’t know if he’d suffered any other kinds of injuries.

“Was he hurt?” she asked Grace. “I mean, besides being in a burning vehicle.”

“Not sure yet.” The doctor’s long fingers moved rapidly along General Yarrow’s prone body, clearly checking for injuries along with her concentrated gaze. “You’re his aide, aren’t you?”

“That’s right,” Sara said.

“Are you aware of any medical conditions he may have—heart related or otherwise? It’ll help diagnose and treat him if we have all his information.”

“I don’t know of any. He’s not exactly forthcoming with that kind of stuff, but I’ve made him occasional appointments for checkups at Bethesda Medical Center. I can call there.”

“Just get me the contact information. With privacy issues, they’re more likely to let me know matters like that.”

Which peeved Sara. She was almost like family to the general. But Grace was right. She was the doctor. She was the one they’d talk to about anything needed to save Greg Yarrow.