XIV

“Well, at least we’ll be able to blend in,” Clinton says.

A sizeable crowd loiters around talking and laughing: Tourists with cameras, enjoying Yemen at war, some looking like reporters and staff trying to camouflage.

“Speak for yourself,” Sauda says grimly, “I’m the only dark-skinned one here. Do you think there won’t be eyes on me? A few of them might trick themselves into thinking they’re genuinely frightened.”

“Those presstitutes look like they’re used to reporting in war zones,” Maddox says. His back is almost up against Sauda’s so it can look like they’re in separate groups. “They’ll probably be able to spot concealed weapons. I wonder what they’re doing on a tour like this?”

Jordan walks up from the middle of the crowd with a giant smile on his face and a large bag of chips in his hands. As he walks closer Sauda can see his nostrils shrink and the tip of his nose lengthen down. His brow bone grew to make his eyes hooded. By the time he was close to them, he looked slightly different. Like a cousin would.

“I could pass for Yemeni, right?”

He walks right past them and Sauda tries to stifle her laugh at the look on Malik’s face.

“I want to be a shapeshifter,” Malik whispers.

“Maybe I’ll bite and turn you,” Jordan laughs over the comms.

Malik stiffens and Sauda's shoulders shake with silent laughter.

“Shifters are born, not made,” Adorna gruffs on the comms, “I can smell your fear all the way over here. Tone it down.”

Adorna and Raum stand in front of the bus doors, blending in with the crowd, looking like two Asian tourists. Adorna takes the earpiece out and stuffs it into the strap of her tank top underneath her larger brown shirt, covering most of her and her guns. As a Demon, she could hear what they were all saying without it, it was only for when they were far away.

Adorna wears her black hair up in buns with chopsticks through them and has fishnet socks that peek over her black high tops. She looks like your average hipster young adult, and not a military trained-Demon ready to rip out throats.

“It’s been a long time,” Adorna says to Raum.

Raum stands looking down at the tiny female. He wears a fitting thin black button-up shirt slightly open showing off his silver chain and black fitting pants. He didn’t carry any guns.

I haven’t seen you since the dissolution of your marriage.”

Adorna ignores the comment and looks around at the crowd of people surrounding them. “Raum… when we get there and the fight begins, I need you to do two things. Stay out of my way and don’t get hurt. You being here has Sauda flustered. The last thing we want is her having to go back to save you.”

“So that means she still has feelings for me? Enough to jeopardize a mission to save me?” Raum smiles a little and looks towards Sauda. She stands to talk to Malik and his heart beats faster.

“Ugh,” Adorna snorts, nose scrunching up. “Same goes for you. Sauda can handle herself. Don’t go putting everyone else in danger because you think she needs help.”

“I get it. I might not have training like you jarheads, but I can still follow orders.”

“We're the Army, you idiot. Not Marines.”

“Oh? Mianhamnida.”

“Just because I’m Asian doesn’t mean I speak Korean too. I’m from the Philippines. Nagsasalita ako ng Tagalog.”

“Ah. Mianhamnida.”

“Okay, everyone!” The tour guide smiles. You could hear his accent as he spoke English. He had a mic in one hand as the other one waves over all the participants. “Time to board and begin our tour.”

“Oh, Honey!” Raum's smile widens as he looks at Adorna, putting on an Asian accent. “I left the camera in the car. I’ll be right back.” He walks off before the tour guide can stop him. Adorna just nods to him and climbs on the bus. Raum walks to the back of the bus, dodging tourists trying to get the best seats, Quickly, he’s out of sight and around the bus, starting to strip his clothes off.

“I’ll let everyone know when they need to ditch the tour. Remember where your marks are,” Sauda says, whispering into her earpiece. She sees Malik and Dix nod and as soon as all the tourists are on the bus, she starts for the back of the bus.

Raum smiles at her as his bones break as he changes into his crow form. She nods and climbs up onto the bus quickly and quietly. She gets settled on top of the bus while people still fill up. A caw sounds and Raum settles on her knee.

“Hey, Little Bird,” she whispers.

Sauda looks at him amazed how his 6’3 frame could fit into such a small bird. His wide shoulders into slender wings.

The bus engines turn on and she can hear the tour guide speaking but ignores it. The bus lurches forward. And they were on their way.

The green gardens roll past them and Sauda tries to block out the memories of her time spent here with Raum and focus on the mission as he flies above her. Soon their first stop came, and it’s time for the Major and Adorna to jump ship.

People get off, but before Sauda can lie down flat, she spies figures sneaking away from the tour group.

“Bad news,” Sauda says, laying down. “Looks like the newscasters had the same idea as us. They just ran away with a small camcorder. Guess they’re looking for the big evil wolf too.”

“Damn,” Maddox whispers, “Shit is going sideways.”

“We don’t have any way around this Major,” Adorna’s voice comes quietly through their ears, “but I’m not slowing down or saving them if they get in the way.”

Sauda sighs and relaxes more in the hot steel of the bus and Raum hops onto her, settling between her breasts and tucking his wings.

“No funny business,” she scolds, “Why don’t you just fly behind the bus like a normal bird.”

“Okay everyone, If you’d follow me I’ll show you the beautiful—”

“That’s our cue, Mendoza.”

Sauda hears their boots fall away and tunes out the fake enthusiasm in the tour guide's voice. She closes her eyes and breathes, feeling the weight of Raum on her chest. The bus rolls on and stops.

“Sugar. Samuel Dean should be behind us. He’ll catch up,” she speaks through the comms.

“And I’ll get us to our mark,” he replies.

Then to the next stop.

“Malik. Raum.”

“Roger,” Malik Whispers.

The weight lifts off her chest and she opens her eyes to the clear blue sky. The sound of Raum changing, meeting her ears.

“Hey. Little Bird?” Raum calls her.

Sauda rolls over and leans her head over. Happy trails peek as Raum pulls up his black pants. He smiles up at her and then pulls a shirt and chain from where he stashed it underneath the bus. Malik joins him and looks up at Sauda. “Try not to kill anyone too loudly. Radio when you get in,” Sauda says.

“Copy Captain.”

Raum slightly bows to her, and she nods her head. They both walk away and Sauda can hear the tour group walking back to the bus. She stretches her muscles getting ready to jump at the next stop.

Again they start off and when the bus slows, Sauda slides down the back end, snaking around and ducking under the window. A few minutes pass and Dix joins her.

“Ready Red?”

“Lead the way, Cap.”

They wait for the tour guide to lead the crowd away, and they stalk as quietly as they can to get out of the open field. They come up to a building and slow. Sauda takes off her button up and lets it fall to the ground, then removes the gun from her waistband and puts it in her leg holster. She sees Clinton take off the oversized shirt to reveal his army issue one.

Sauda puts both hands behind her back and on the handle of her knife, ready to use her Demon speed to quietly cut tendons or necks.

“We stay through the tunnel. If we see anyone and they try to stop us through force, we knock ‘em down. If they use magic, kill them as quietly as you can.”

Five “rogers,” ring in her ear and then, “There’s a strange man waiting for us at our mark.”

“Kettlewell. Repeat.” The Major’s voice hits her ear louder than she expects, and Clinton winces as he grabs at his comms piece.

“There’s a man standing in front of us.”

“Same here,” Maddox says.

“Shit. We’ve got some trouble here too,” Malik swears.

A man steps from the tunnel entrance and Sauda’s knives are in her hands, pointed at the stranger. Dix has his gun aimed at him.

“Please come with me.” The man’s accent is strong, but it was a middle eastern American one. “Master Bathory is waiting.”

“He’s telling us to come with him, Major.” Sauda adjusts the hold on her knives, spreads her feet and bends her knees to prepare to jump. She places her right foot in front and picks her left heel off the ground.

“These are not the droids you are looking for.”

“Shut up, Sugar.”

“Shit. Let’s just follow,” Maddox says, “Fuck!”