Birth of the Wolf (Wahaya) Read Free Page B

rifle with wreath and a star, the second Award of the Combat Infantry Badge.
    He had argued against the medals, feeling satisfied with the ribbons, but Grandmother had sternly told him that it was Cherokee tradition to display a warrior’s triumphs boldly and proudly, and she was counting coup.
    The top row included the Distinguished Service Cross with three oak leaf clusters signifying separate awards, a Distinguished Service Medal, a Silver Star with two oak leaf clusters, and a Bronze Star with three oak leaf clusters. 
    The rows of ribbons were packaged together tightly, representing hours of labor and research for his Grandmother, who was determined that the ribbons should be in order.  These indicated the campaigns he had fought in and ribbons representing service in the Middle East, Africa, and South America.
    The skill qualification badges included Airborne wings, Military Free Fall wings, Pathfinder, Scuba, and Airmobile Badges. The Special Forces patch and Ranger Tab were to the right side of the display. On the left side were the jump wings of no less than five foreign governments, showing he had trained and jumped with their paratroops, and the Mayflower Patch for the Jungle Operations Training course in the Panama Canal Zone.
    He was a warrior and he loved the Special Forces.  He still did not know how he would like his new job as a "contractor." 
    "The money will be good, though."  He thought realizing that he had almost made up his mind to take the job offered by Swain.  He was still bothered by acting outside of the protection of the US Government.  If he got into trouble, there would be no one to sound the bugle and rush in to save him.
    "I need to go running."  Nick said, startled that he spoke out loud.  Running had always helped him to clear his head and decide what to do. 
    As a child he had run everywhere on the reservation in North Carolina.  Reservation Indians didn’t have a life as hard in North Carolina as the ones out west did, but life was still no picnic for them. Nick ran because he loved to run, but he also ran for his mother and his grandfather, carrying messages and packages, up and down the steep slopes and ridges of the Great Smoky Mountains.
    He continued to run in school for the track team.  He won just about every race he competed in.
    He returned back home after 45 minutes sweaty but with his mind made up and a clear path in front of him. 

* * * * *
    “ I’m told the going rate is one million dollars plus expenses for this sort of thing,” the even, measured voice of Phelps Dunn came across the encrypted cell phone calmly, as if they were discussing what to have for lunch.  “I won’t ask you to do anything that violates your principles Mr. Harris, but I wouldn’t be averse to doubling that fee if our adversary were no longer around to commit this type of atrocity at the close of this operation.”
    “ You realize, sir, that when the head is chopped off this particular reptile, there will be a hundred more just like him, ready to take his place?”  Nick felt honor bound to point this out to his employer.
    “ I understand that Mr. Harris, but as long as this particular snake is not around, the contract will be paid at double the normal rate,” Dunn said evenly.
    “ I understand, sir,” Nick said.
    “ You gotta stop with all that ‘sir’ shit Nick,” said Dave, “the customers are gonna be more impressed if you let them see you as a bloodthirsty heathen savage who speaks broken English!”  Dave McGraw, former spit and polish Command Sergeant Major of the John F. Kennedy School of Special Warfare, home of America’s Special Forces, sat cross legged on the floor wearing only a gaudy, flower printed pair of Bermuda shorts, raised his hand palm upwards and said with a straight face, “How!”
    Nick looked at Dave and chuckled.
    The ranch was located just adjacent to the reservation where Nick had grown up, eight thousand acres of good ranch land, set up