"Well, I still can't believe something like that could really happen, Wolf. You hear about this sort of thing going on, but never really believe it." Bull's voice was slightly muffled by the beef jerky he'd been chawing on.
"Yeah, well, I for damn sure believe it," said Mike through gritted teeth, his eyes focused on the blackness of the country road ahead as the jeep tore through the night. "I'm the one it happened to, and I've still got the sore ass to prove it. Can't take a shit without the pain coming back. I swear he put that nightstick of his halfway up my butt."
Of the three Air Force officers in the Jeep, only Stud was quiet. A tall, well muscled Tennessee farm boy, and the youngest of the three buddies, his real name was Steve. Like both of his co-workers, he had been given the name of the animal he most represented. What better animal to represent this farm boy than a Tennessee Stud? Sprawled out in the back seat of the Cherokee jeep, he was allowing the beer that the three of them had shared at the Officers Club to seep into his brain cells creating a comfortable, relaxed sensation. He only half heard Bull in the passenger seat mumbling his amazement of events through the wad of jerky in his mouth.
Bull, like the other two, fit his animal namesake to a tee. His name was Jim, but that in no way could convey the power of this man. At five foot nine and two hundred pounds of solid muscle, he was nothing to piss off. The ash blond short hair, matching mustache, and deep gray-blue eyes accentuated his square jaw. He tended to be more impulsive than the other two, and in fact, was the first to be given the animal nickname. In turn, he was the one to hang the handle "Wolf" on the driver of the jeep, Mike. Wolf wasn't as muscular as the other two, but he was lean and defined, and had an intensity in his eyes that Bull could only equate to the timberwolf he had been unlucky enough to come across while camping in the mountains. But that, as they say, is a whole other story.
Tonight Wolf's mind was occupied, still running through the events of that night two weeks ago when he was stopped and bodily, sexually and psychologically assaulted by a sadistic cop on this very same country road on the way back home from the base. It was almost a week before he told his buddies about the incident, and even then only because they had noticed the change in him and demanded to know what had brought it on. They sat stunned as Wolf related the affair detail by detail. Even Bull was uncharacteristically quiet for a few minutes before exploding in his impetuous fury. Stud just looked at Wolf with those dark brown stallion's eyes when the story ended. He reached over and grabbed Wolf's neck with a large hand and squeezed gently. Without saying a word, he said more than all of Bull's continued ranting. Wolf, for his part, appreciated the concern of both friends, but seethed with a quiet, dark fury of his own.
It was decided that they would take this fishing trip for the week to try and help Wolf forget the incident. The eighty acre lake by Wolf's house in the country was a perfect get away, and had always provided the solace and quiet when things got rough in the past. So, after work they headed for a few beers at the Officer's Club to finalize plans, threw their gear into the back of Wolf's Cherokee and headed north with the intensity of Wolf's pain and anger finally beginning to abate.
"God, I love these guys", thought Wolf with a grim smile on his face.
"I think we really shoulda changed into civvies before we left." said Bull, swallowing the last of the jerky.
"You can change when we get to my place, Bull. Besides, I always did find a man in uniform as appealing as hell." Wolf grinned as he sideglanced over at the big man in the passenger seat dressed in his BDU's.
From the back seat, also in BDU pants and a green regulation T-shirt, Stud joined in, "The way I remember it, it's a man OUT of uniform that turns you on, Captain."
Wolf grinned widely, looking in the rear view mirror at the tall Lieutenant doing his best to stretch his frame in the cramped back seat. He remembered the first time he saw Stud in the gym lockerroom on base. They had all just finished PT and were sweating like pigs. It trickled down Stud's wide chest, matting the fine brown hairs that grew there. He was newly assigned, just out of OTS, and when he smiled, all Wolf could remember seeing were the big white teeth that lit up that farm boy's face. It was as his gaze moved downward that the nickname "Stud" really became appropriate. It took a conscious effort of will for Wolf to keep his own ample dick from standing up and saying howdy.
Wolf brought his eyes from the mirror to the road, still grinning at the memory, when something appeared to reflect the headlights along the roadside ahead. Slowing down to get a better look, he was astonished to see it was a police cruiser. His first thought was "shit, a speed trap on a country road. What'll they think of next?", but then he noted the numbers stenciled on the trunk lid of the cruiser. They were the same numbers he had been forced to lean on as he was being handcuffed two weeks prior by the sadistic Man-in-Blue. He passed the cruiser, pulled in front and stopped the jeep.
"Yo, Wolf, what're ya doing" asked Bull. "There's no speed gun in there. Hell, there ain't even any cop in that car. Probably a break down. We all know how government equipment is, don't we? Don't matter whether it's federal or local. It's still just the same old . . .".
"Shut up, Bull", Wolf ordered quietly, staring back at the cruiser.
Stud was up now, looking at Wolf, then at Bull, then back at the cruiser through the rear window. "Wolf, don't tell me . . .".
"Yeah", Wolf said, barely audibly, his face a stone mask with blazing eyes that sent a shiver down Stud's spinal column. "Yeah, that's him."
Bull spun around to look at the dark car behind them, then quickly looked at Wolf's chiseled face and clenched jaw. As big as he was, he was glad he wasn't on the receiving end of the red liquid anger that burned in his friend's blood.
Wolf turned off the jeep's lights and engine and sat staring ahead. Again, the look reminded Bull of his long ago run-in with the timberwolf on that high, cold mountain. Wolf's breathing was rapid and shallow. Slowly, he opened the driver's side door and stepped out, his jungle boots crunching on the gravel that lined the side of the road.
"Wolf, what . . .", started Stud.
"Just gonna have a look. I'm okay. Really." Wolf started back through the darkness to the police cruiser. He could hear the episodic hollow voice coming from the police radio inside. Bull got out and stood by the side of the jeep, right hand on the roof, left hand on the top of the door as he watched Wolf approach the cruiser. "God, he really does look like a wolf in the moonlight", thought Bull, his adrenaline flowing, watching for the sadistic cop to come out from behind the car and drag his buddy back into the woods.
By this time Stud, too, had climbed from the back seat to exit the open driver's side door and stood still and silent except for the pounding of his heart in his chest. Both looked on as Wolf reached into the open window of the cruiser and turned off the police radio and then pulled out the microphone and tossed it into the dark woods. Now there was no sound. It struck Wolf as odd that not even an owl could be heard in the normally active deep country woodland. And then he heard why. They had been scared into silence by an intruder. It came as a faint note on the gentle breeze. But it was distinctly human. A musical whistling half echoed from the trees deep in toward the west. The melody was an old rock tune Wolf couldn't readily identify.
"That's gotta be him" growled Wolf as he returned to the jeep. "The thing stinks of his turd cigars." Bull had come around to join Stud by the driver's side and they both watched Wolf with intensity. Standing side by side, Bull with his mustache was half a head shorter than cleanshaven Stud. Again, Wolf was struck by his deep feelings for these guys and their concern for him. The corners of his mouth lifted in a grim smile. "Damned if you two don't look like Laurel and Hardy on steroids!" he whispered. That broke some of the tension as they all smiled. It wasn't the first time Wolf had made this unlikely comparison, but it still made them laugh.
"What do you think he's up to?" asked Stud to no one in particular. "You don't think he's got another victim in there, do you?"
"All I hear is him whistling," answered Wolf. "Believe me, if there was someone with him, he'd be making sure they could be heard as well."
"Whattaya want to do?" Bull asked, his eyes ablaze. He knew the answer, as well as the meaning of a rhetorical question.
Wolf looked into both their faces and knew they were with him whatever his decision would be. But he also knew that none of them were of the sort to bury their head in the sand or to run. "We've all been through recon training. This should be a good time to utilize what Uncle's been paying to teach us all this time. Perfect opportunity for a search and destroy mission, doncha think?"
Again, they all grinned; although, this time it wasn't the grin you would normally associate with humor. It had a trace of intangible evil about it.
