X-Team Three

Part Five: Lawson

"That was the roughest, goddamned landing I've ever experienced," Trace says as we step out of the plane and onto the tarmac at what seems to be the world's most rural airstrip. Somewhere between Yellowstone and Shoshone National Forest.

I turn and glare at him. "You can pilot the plane next time. We'll see how steady your landing is when you're flying around 14,000 foot piles of rock. Oooh...waaait...you don't have a pilot's license!" I finish in a mocking tone.

Trace grins back at me, his grizzly beard rising with the corners of his mouth. Out of all of the shapeshifters I've ever met, Trace's human form looks the most like his animal form, a bear. He's tall at 6'6", hefty at 300 pounds, and hairier than any other man I've ever met. And he sheds. Everyone else refuses to clean the men's showers out back at headquarters because the job includes unclogging the drains of all of Trace's hair. Trace is the only one who does it now.

"Brrr!" Tanga purrs, wrapping her arms around herself. She's wearing a down parka, snow boots, and wool mittens while Trace and I are in short-sleeves and jeans. It's in the 40s up here in the mountains, but by the way she's dressed, you'd think we were up in the Yukon. She gives us both a sideways glance. "I'm not going to be warm until I've shifted so can we please hurry it up? I'm freezing!" She starts hopping from one foot to the other while spinning in a circle. "I'll never understand you wolf and bear people. How anyone can like this sort of weather is beyond me." She said that more to herself than anyone else, but we heard her anyway.

Trace and I both chuckle. She's a weretiger and claims she's not used to cold temperatures, although, she lives in Chicago so I'm not sure what her problem is with the weather here. I've lived through many winters of below zero temperatures in Chi-Town, and I know she has, too. I personally think she just doesn't like being in the mountains. This isn't exactly tiger territory.

I take a deep breath of the thin, cool, mountain air and allow it to bring me back to my childhood. My pack was a few hundred miles south of here, but it still smells the same: the tang of pine trees, the sweetness of the little mountain lakes, and the saltiness of animal blood. The fact that I can smell it from here means it's been way too long since I've hunted in wolf form.

Trace grabs our packs out of the Cessna 310 and tosses them to us. Our packs are at least 50 pounds apiece, but Tanga's can barely be considered a pack. It's about the size of a large handbag and, apparently, only carries the bare essentials. I've dated women, lots of women, and I've never run across a single one who can pack like Tanga. Like a good man, I don't go through her stuff, but one of these days, she's going to have to show me how she does it. I think I may even be able to learn a few things from her.

I pull the map out of my back pocket and motion for my companions to join me. "So, here's where we are," I say and point at the tiny airstrip on the printout from Google Maps. I move my finger about fifty miles to the northwest. "This is where the unknown natural disaster was."

"Okay. See, here is where I have a problem," Tanga states, the bitterness in her voice surprising us both. "How does the government know there was a natural disaster but not know what it was? Are we walking into the remnants of a forest fire, or an earthquake, or an avalanche?" She turns around and throws her hands up in the air. "For God's sake! They have satellites all over the place out there! How do they not know?!"

Trace and I glance at each other warily. I've been wondering the same thing, but I figure we'll find out when we get there. Whatever it was is undoubtedly over now, and I'm sure it'll be obvious when we see it. Until then, it's just another unknown. We're supernatural creatures. We should be used to the unknown.

"We'll figure it out later, Tanga," I say, returning my eyes to the map. "Let's just figure out where were going and how we'll get there."

She turns back around in a huff, crossing her arms over her chest. As soon as she's looking back at the map with us, I continue. "This is a river right here that, if you follow it to the north, will deposit us a mere five miles from the site. The only issue is that this river is used for white water rafting, and I highly doubt any of those people would be able to handle seeing a giant wolf, bear, and tiger walking together along the bank. We'll have to keep at least a mile off the river to avoid discovery." I look up at them. "Do you guys agree?"

Trace nods his head and then smirks. "Although it would be entertaining to see their faces when they spot a tiger in the Rockies." Tanga elbows him with a small smile.

"Alright. It's settled then," I say, folding the map back up and shoving it in my pack. "Let's head off into the forest a bit so we can be sure we're not being watched, and then we'll shift."

"Really, Lawson?" Tanga whines as she starts stripping off her winter garb, placing all the bulky pieces back into the plane. "I highly doubt there's another person for miles."

She's probably right, but I'm not going to take chances here. We won't do this little pup any good if we're caught. The feds would provide a cover story for us, but they'd also take us off the case, and I'm not going to put this young one's life in anyone else's hands but mine.

"You only have to walk twenty-five yards without a coat on, Hello Kitty," Trace states. He waves his hand in the general direction of her massive pile of cold weather gear. "Or you could bring all your fluffy garments with and carry them around between your teeth. Although, I've seen a down jacket get cut before, and you'd be hacking up feathers instead of hairballs for two weeks."

She throws him a scathing glare. Here we go. "I'm not the one with the hair problem," she hisses. Then a satisfied smirk raises her lips. "I wonder if you'd shift into a bald bear if someone were to shave all your man hair off. You'd better watch your mouth, Winnie the Poo. I know where you sleep."

"Alright, you two. Let's get going," I say, heading off toward the shelter of the trees and hoping they'll follow. I'm getting a sense of urgency now, and the longer we spend screwing around on the airstrip, the greater the chance the kid'll be dead when we finally find him.

I hear their footsteps following behind me along with some grumbling from Trace. "You come anywhere near me with a razor and I'll send you off to the glue factory."

"That's horses, you idiot. I thought bears were supposed to be smarter than that. After all, opening coolers takes a lot of smarts," I hear Tanga whisper back.

Trace growls and Tanga squeals, bolting past me and into the trees. Trace takes off after her. I roll my eyes. If they don't kill each other by the end of this mission, I'll do it for them.