The Beast Within (Book One of the Changes Series)

-Killian’s POV-

Major Hardaway's poignant stare caught all of our attention before she started in on her spiel.

“This is the moment we have been training so hard for. There is only room for success. Do what you’ve been hand-picked to do and come back in one piece. Also, there has been a slight change in your objectives that the team leader has been made aware of.”

I looked around at the team, not shocked by the lack of surprise shown on their faces. It was pretty standard for missions to change at any point. Unfortunately, life rarely played out like a textbook scenario.

The major made her way toward the cockpit, “This is your flight team, Carter and his co-pilot Matthews, who will be replacing McPherson on the gun. Killian will share McPherson’s new role in the mission when you’re airborne.” Hardaway retraced her steps back to the loading dock’s entrance, turning back to face us. “At ease and happy hunting.” She turned back around, swiftly disappearing in the mix of the other personnel.

I went back to adjusting my para gear when the pilot started his spiel.

“You have ten before we’re airborne, so get her done, people.”

He spun around, vanishing into the cockpit. Washington took his seat, sharing small talk with Matthews while the rest of us finished with our tinkering. I could feel the heat coming off of Garvey in waves. It wasn’t a surprise that he wasn’t happy with the mission’s new arrangement, but it seemed he would keep his opinion to himself for the moment.

I went towards McPherson as he was still figuring his rig. He saw me coming and seemed to ready himself for whatever I had to say. It was known that I didn’t believe he was prepared for an operation of this magnitude, but that wasn’t what mattered any longer.

“Hey, do you have all your shit together? Make sure you check all of your gages.”

“I got it, and just for the record, I could have handled Garvey in the locker room,” he said with a stern expression.

“Yeah, I got that, but right now, I need your head in the game, not in the fucking locker room. This is some life or death shit, and our enemy isn’t even human. So let go of your ego and just worry about not dying. Can you do that?”

He tried to hide his aggravated eye roll and failed, “Yeah.”

I walked away, looking over the rest of the team. We heard the roar of the aircraft coming to life as we all took our seats. On most of my other missions, I zoned out and just replayed my role in the coming task at hand, but this wasn’t like any other assignment. I was always in another country, far from anything familiar. The disassociation helped me focus on what my country needed of me. Now I was expected to do the same on my own soil.

Suddenly it took an effort to keep my shoulders from slumping. Doing my job should’ve been an easy task, always had been in the past, but I found myself bogged down with the realities of my experience. I’d seen some really fucked up shit that included people, families, and children ending up dead for the greater good. Even though I felt that reason enough, I wasn’t sure how my ideals would hold up when the greater good needed to be upheld in my own backyard.

“We have been cleared for lift-off,” the pilot said into the intercom over the aircraft’s vibrations.

Moments later, the loading dock hatch closed, leaving us to sit on our side benches in the dim cabin lighting. I felt the downward pull as we traveled up the tunnel that we were parked under moments ago. The elevator I came down on my first day came to mind. I remembered the feeling of unfounded anxiety that the descent gave me. Times that by ten now that my way out was open to human error. I was never so happy there weren’t windows to look out of.

Big bright, colorful dots started to cloud my vision. Dr. Chaplin warned us of this minor side effect. She reassured us that it would pass after administering the next dose of LT4. What one person called a side effect, another would call withdrawal. We haven’t used the wonder drug since our last training op, which had to be more than twenty-four hours ago. Any minute now, I expected cold sweats and LT4 cravings. That wouldn’t be helpful in our current state of affairs unless throwing four crazed operatives at a pack of werewolves was the plan the entire time. Here’s hoping that wasn’t the case, and we made our subsequent dosing before any more symptoms popped up.

Dr. Chaplin also advised the best way for the effects to pass was to concentrate on stationary objects until our vision corrected itself. Needing something other than the constant light show to keep me occupied, I decided to take Anastasiya’s advice. I hunched over, resting my forearms on my thighs as I looked down where my shoes should’ve been. Instead, I saw red and purple circles. The harder I concentrated, the brighter the colors would become. When the spots turned neon yellow, I was ready to give up, afraid I might somehow blind myself. Then all at once, the colors disappeared.

By the time I felt the Osprey’s vertical lift change into the forward momentum, I had mastered my sight again. I looked around the room to see if anyone else suffered what I had just gone through.

Washington nervously fidgeted with what looked like a medallion of some kind. Unlike McPherson, he seemed okay with his role in the mission. I didn’t blame him for being comfortable playing second fiddle on this one.

My focus switched to McPherson. It looked as if Washington’s nervous energy was contagious. At first glance, McPherson’s demeanor seemed controlled. Until the jumpy tick of his legs gave his nerves away.

A whispered murmur made my head swivel in its direction. Alongside me, Hernandez prayed as he held onto a rosary that his dog tags were intertwined with hanging loosely around his neck. I quickly looked away, feeling I had intruded on his private moment.

I had nothing against anyone that placed faith into a higher being. Still, I hadn’t had a strong pull towards religion in years. I found it more comforting to depend on myself than some book or ritual that ensured my salvation. My moral code was stronger than many people’s faith anyway. The destruction I’d seen done in the name of someone’s God was enough to make even the most devoted have second thoughts about religion. I had other reasons too.

‘Sir’… That’s all my father allowed us to call him. My father decided to parent Josh, and me correctly wasn’t his primary goal. However, being born a proper southern man from the Bible belt, he thoroughly believed in ‘Spare the rod; spoil the child.’ I guess he was so thorough he even took steps to make sure my mother wouldn’t become spoiled as well. I knew there were a lot of good and bad people that came from all walks of life. Still, since Sir had come from the South, I was proud to have been born in the Midwest. I felt an involuntary scowl start to form at the corner of my mouth as I remembered random memories of his ‘guidance.’ My face instantly grew hot, and I was now thankful for the dimness of the room. Before I could go any further into my past, I refocused my attention on Garvey’s now resting figure. In many ways, he reminded me of my father. I hoped Garvey was more valuable than him. The last thing I needed was a reenactment of the locker room incident.

I turned my gaze back towards the other side of the aircraft to see what Davis was up to. When my eyes found her, I was surprised to find I wasn’t the only one watching as her eyes burned into mine. I made sure not to show my shock as I returned the intense glare. She deliberately resigned her stare, reminding me of a cat that just tired of a toy. I never cared for cats, but Davis probably had some good qualities.

With everything being as fleshed out as it could be, I finally relaxed. The back of my shoulders found the cold metal of the Osprey. I forced my eyes closed and tried to not think of anything or anyone.