Colonel always insisted on participating every year, up close and personal. "Excellent work, Command. Let's get cleanup enroute and call this one a night."
CHAPTER TWO
It had been one of the strangest nights of Josie Winter's young life yet. She'd grown up hearing what she thought were fairy tales about witches. About witches doing their dastardly deeds on Halloween- which was still almost two weeks away.
While the eighteen year old hadn't been trick-or-treating for many years, she was used to attending Halloween parties throughout the month of October with her friends. Her friends who had now been in college for several weeks.
Josie had planned on college as well. Then the thin, athletic brunette with green eyes and jet-black hair had found a stone corpse in the desert that turned out, in a truly bizarre twist of fate, to be a grandfather she never knew she had. And who had a habit of dying and returning to life. Repeatedly.
Her grandfather was unique in the respect that he didn't seem to be able to die, but he was not the only man Josie had met over the summer who was unusual. In fact, her grandfather was in command of a number of unique people with unique abilities. Soldiers assigned to a very secret, Joint Military Operations unit that did things to keep America, and the world, safe.
All night long, Josie had waited in the Command Center of Detachment 1039, nervously keeping tabs on her grandfather and the teams participating in the annual Operation Jawbreaker, anti-witch campaign. At first, Josie had thought Jawbreaker was an elaborate joke- a right of initiation for the new members of the Detachment- like college hazing.
But witches and Operation Jawbreaker's month-long vigil to watch and stop witches had proven all too real, and Josie had watched snipers from America's various special ops units eliminate six-woman covens with pinpoint accuracy in four locations across the country- on the night of the October full moon. The night witches really performed their ceremonies.
The snipers had acted with precision accuracy, each time taking out six targets with shots placed to the heart from over three hundred feet away, simultaneously. It had been impressive.
And then there was her grandfather. Who had preferred a more up close and personal way to dispatch a coven.
Colonel Mark Kenslir was just pulling up to the dock now, still wearing his black combat fatigues, assault vest and all the holsters and pouches full of weapons and gear he carried on most missions. He had wiped the camouflage paint from his face, revealing smooth, unwrinkled skin most people would have thought belonged to a man not much older than thirty- and not the skin of a man well into his eighties. The massive soldier had his goggles pushed up on his forehead now and was intently concentrating on easing his speedboat into the slip of the underground harbor at the Detachment's headquarters.
Josie waited for the boat to come to a stop then slipped on a mooring line at the bow.
"Welcome back, sir," she said.
"You're still up," her grandfather said. The Colonel picked up his large duffel bag of gear and leaped up onto the deck, landing surprisingly lightly for someone who's dense, superhuman muscles weighed well over three hundred pounds.
"I couldn't sleep," Josie said, stepping back so the Colonel could walk past. She fell into step beside him as he walked to the large double doors leading out of the underground bay. Already the lights in the boat tunnel leading back to Homestead Air Force Base were shutting off.
"They turned?" Kenslir asked, opening a door and holding it open for Josie.
"Yes- early," Josie said.
"What about Smith? And the new guys?"
"Fully restored and petrified," Josie answered. "Victor is putting them through the early paces now."
Colonel Kenslir stopped and turned his weird, green, almost black, eyes on Josie. "Where's Captain Smith?"
"He's waiting for you at the vaults," Josie said, then hesitated. "They
CHAPTER TWO
It had been one of the strangest nights of Josie Winter's young life yet. She'd grown up hearing what she thought were fairy tales about witches. About witches doing their dastardly deeds on Halloween- which was still almost two weeks away.
While the eighteen year old hadn't been trick-or-treating for many years, she was used to attending Halloween parties throughout the month of October with her friends. Her friends who had now been in college for several weeks.
Josie had planned on college as well. Then the thin, athletic brunette with green eyes and jet-black hair had found a stone corpse in the desert that turned out, in a truly bizarre twist of fate, to be a grandfather she never knew she had. And who had a habit of dying and returning to life. Repeatedly.
Her grandfather was unique in the respect that he didn't seem to be able to die, but he was not the only man Josie had met over the summer who was unusual. In fact, her grandfather was in command of a number of unique people with unique abilities. Soldiers assigned to a very secret, Joint Military Operations unit that did things to keep America, and the world, safe.
All night long, Josie had waited in the Command Center of Detachment 1039, nervously keeping tabs on her grandfather and the teams participating in the annual Operation Jawbreaker, anti-witch campaign. At first, Josie had thought Jawbreaker was an elaborate joke- a right of initiation for the new members of the Detachment- like college hazing.
But witches and Operation Jawbreaker's month-long vigil to watch and stop witches had proven all too real, and Josie had watched snipers from America's various special ops units eliminate six-woman covens with pinpoint accuracy in four locations across the country- on the night of the October full moon. The night witches really performed their ceremonies.
The snipers had acted with precision accuracy, each time taking out six targets with shots placed to the heart from over three hundred feet away, simultaneously. It had been impressive.
And then there was her grandfather. Who had preferred a more up close and personal way to dispatch a coven.
Colonel Mark Kenslir was just pulling up to the dock now, still wearing his black combat fatigues, assault vest and all the holsters and pouches full of weapons and gear he carried on most missions. He had wiped the camouflage paint from his face, revealing smooth, unwrinkled skin most people would have thought belonged to a man not much older than thirty- and not the skin of a man well into his eighties. The massive soldier had his goggles pushed up on his forehead now and was intently concentrating on easing his speedboat into the slip of the underground harbor at the Detachment's headquarters.
Josie waited for the boat to come to a stop then slipped on a mooring line at the bow.
"Welcome back, sir," she said.
"You're still up," her grandfather said. The Colonel picked up his large duffel bag of gear and leaped up onto the deck, landing surprisingly lightly for someone who's dense, superhuman muscles weighed well over three hundred pounds.
"I couldn't sleep," Josie said, stepping back so the Colonel could walk past. She fell into step beside him as he walked to the large double doors leading out of the underground bay. Already the lights in the boat tunnel leading back to Homestead Air Force Base were shutting off.
"They turned?" Kenslir asked, opening a door and holding it open for Josie.
"Yes- early," Josie said.
"What about Smith? And the new guys?"
"Fully restored and petrified," Josie answered. "Victor is putting them through the early paces now."
Colonel Kenslir stopped and turned his weird, green, almost black, eyes on Josie. "Where's Captain Smith?"
"He's waiting for you at the vaults," Josie said, then hesitated. "They
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