The lounge in question was located at Taylor Ski Resort, forty minutes over the hills and through the dale by SnowTrack. The sky remained nearly clear, with distant, ethereal clouds gliding past the moon on a high-altitude wind. It was bright enough that he could travel over the silver snow without headlights.

He arrived early, ordered wine, and took a spot on the closed upper deck. Everyone here knew him. When he accompanied the senator, they didn't acknowledge him, but when he was alone, they called him sir, and a few people, like Mandy the bartender and Shane the waiter, used his name.

His table was in the half-moon of a sunroom that gave him a view of the parking lot outside, the waiting area, and the maître d' podium just inside the front door.

The plucking of lonesome guitar music filtered up from the bar.

He watched Z-dawg pull his Mercedes into a private parking space for JTS employees. The rims of his car spun with green and blue ground effects. The thump-thump of his speaker system, muffled but still audible at a distance, went silent when he turned the car off.

Shane, as he had requested, brought a bottle of wine and three glasses.

"You want me to pour?" the young man asked. He had picked Bozeman for school because of the snow; he quit college but not skiing. He ran a body channel on social media and was sometimes lovers with Mandy. Tim had gotten him the work, a rare job and a good match for a kid who wasn't fit for unemployment or the front. It seemed likely he would remain in the service side of John Taylor's enterprise for years to come.

"I'll do it. Thanks."

"Anytime, old man." He hesitated. "Feel like hanging with me and Mandy later?"

He always asked. Tim always declined.

"Lots of business."

"You should take your mind off it."

"Let me know if any JTS spooks come in," said Tim.

"You got it." He swayed his hips in his parting saunter.

Tim poured three glasses of wine, removed a small device from his pocket, and took a reading for bugs. The meter showed low, detecting only the ambiance of the electrical and network systems. He wasn't as much worried about JTS trying to eavesdrop than he was about JTS's competition, various crime cartels, the government.

Below, a young family waited to be seated. The kids, a boy and a girl, played on their devices, looking distantly into their ARs. The boy's fingers worked some invisible item in the air. The parents, a blonde woman and a solid man in a cowboy hat and boots, held each other, probably in the early stages of making number three.

When Z-dawg entered with Scarlet on his arm, the maître's d' immediately greeted them and allowed them to pass. This caused a stir between the husband and wife. One did not simply walk into Taylor Lounge unless they were of some importance. Considering the political climate in that part of Montana, the couple was probably wondering what a Black man and Asian woman could possibly have over them.

"There's the big man!" said Z-dawg, taking Tim's hand like a steel vise, bringing him in for a tight embrace.

"Hey, Tim," said Scarlet. "Looking lean these days. I like the new haircut." He had to stoop for her to kiss him on the cheeks. She was stunning in a sparkling blue one-piece that revealed every curve and mound of her tight little body.

"Thanks. I got it done in New York." They sat. "I hope you like steak."

"Only if it bleeds," said Z-dawg.

Tim raised his glass. "Here's to-"

"Pussy!" said Z-dawg. He licked his lips.

Scarlet rolled her eyes.

"And our team," he added.

"I'll toast to that," said Scarlet. She spoke with the accent of the BAT. They both did, but Z-dawg could hide his when he wanted or needed to. "How were the new kids in New York?"

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

"They did good," Tim said. "Who's that young one, the one who knows computers?"

"Jack," said Scarlet.

"Jack the Hack," said Z-dawg.

"He's good," Tim said. "Congrats to both of you. You trained them well."

"Cherries popped?" said Z-dawg.

"They are going to be assets," Tim said. "They have a team dynamic. Let's keep that together. I'd like them to shadow us at the inauguration. See how they work with pissed-off Secret Service agents."

A quiet settled. They were waiting for him to get to the point, but he was beating around the bush. He lifted his glass and simply said, "Cheers." Glasses clinked together.

"Mmm, but damn this is good wine," said Scarlet. The wine in her glass matched her lipstick. "Firm yet refined." Scarlet knew her wines. She put her nose into the bowl of the glass and inhaled deeply. "Bouquet of blackcurrant, black cherries, ripe, very ripe-fig, leather, lavender." She savored another sip. "Liquorice, pepper, truffle."

Z-dawg shot her an incredulous look before sniffing his own glass. He picked up the bottle. "2035 Chateau Neuf de Pape, reservay! Shit! How much you pay for this?" He finished his glass in one gulp-to Scarlet's chagrin-then put the glass on the table and pushed it toward Tim.

Tim grasped his silent message. Cut the shit. Why are we really here?

Tim took the bottle and topped off all their glasses. "Don't worry about it," he said, "money is no object. Isn't that right, Scarlet?" What's our money situation like?

She picked up the bottle and turned it in her hand. "I could afford a crate of these." The money is there.

Z-dawg rose abruptly, looked over the rail for a moment, then sat back down. "What's up, boss? This was an emergency meeting."

"Things are going to get crazy," said Tim. "We're going to have a lot of liaisons with the Secret Service. I need you guys to make sure our team is ready for that. Christmas dinner will be a test run. JTS wants to do background checks on everyone. Probably get real personal."

Z-dawg laughed. "You think they'll find out I like to fuck her with her panties on?"

"Animal," Scarlet said.

"Stuff like that," Tim said. "Expect all JTS channels to be monitored."

Z-dawg looked up at the chandelier and said, "Hope you can hear me! I'm gonna be a good boy." Then he turned his eyes on Tim, and his tone was serious. "Now, why don't you get to the fucking point?"

Down below, the family was still waiting. There seemed to be an argument between the husband and wife.

"Look, there are things I can say, and things I can't say. Not yet at least."

"I'm listening, boss," said Scarlet.

He leaned in and put his elbows on the table so he could cover his lips with his hands. "I saw something in New York-" He groped for the words. "There's a new player on the board. I saw things."

Z-dawg raised his glass to his lips, holding it in such a way to hide his mouth, "Boss, if you shook, I shook."

"Scarlet, I'd like you to divest the assets, real slow and subtle like. Keep enough crypto and buy property in a few secluded places along the border. Mexico and Canada. And a couple of safe houses where JTS doesn't have much of a reach."

She took a drink of her wine and said, "Consider it done."

"I got goosebumps right now," said Z-dawg.

Tim made a show of drinking his wine and stretching his neck so he could see around them. The family was being led to a table. A group of VIPs had entered. They sounded drunk.

He put his hands back over his mouth. "Have you noticed anything different recently? Anything at all?"

"Scarlet, baby, you want to tell him?" Said Z-dawg.

Scarlet coughed and leaned on the table. "Last week, we did some night training near Deer Lodge. We were with JTS Elite. There was a group we didn't recognize. About twenty heads. Came in on a big black bus. They got off, and I thought we were going to train with them. They didn't look like soldiers. I think I saw some kids, too. When we were putting on our gear, they went around the bus." She looked at Z-dawg, who nodded. "They didn't come back. When I went around and checked-nothing. They were gone. Night vision and thermal scopes showed nothing. And they weren't hiding behind trees because there were none. Just an empty, muddy field."

Now Z-dawg spoke, "Day before yesterday, JTS asked us to run security at the Old Montana Prison. This was around midnight. Two hours into our stint, that same black bus shows up. A group of people gets out and goes inside. And yeah, some kids, for sure. Bus leaves, no people on it. Sunrise comes, and we get the all-clear to head home."

They looked at each other for a while. He did not want to tell them, but in all the world, these two were his only friends, the only people he trusted.

"I think I saw a man turn into a wolf," he said.

That was all. There was no ridicule, no disbelief-just sober silence.

Calm and cool, Z-dawg raised his glass. "Here's to keeping your eyes open."

They toasted.

Shane returned with another bottle of wine and to take their orders. He smiled when he saw Z-dawg and Scarlet. They ordered steaks. Tim couldn't stomach meat, so he chose grilled vegetables.

They ate slowly. It was excellent food. The steaks bled puddles of grease and crimson onto the delicate porcelain. They finished the wine and ordered another. They moved to the bar and let the cameras catch them having a good time. They drank late and got drunk. Shane and Mandy invited all of them back to Mandy's place, a sprawling loft by the train tracks in Bozeman. Tim declined. Z-dawg and Scarlet accepted.

He stepped out into the cold. The moon was hidden behind the mountains now. He let the AI on the SnowTrack shuttle him back over his trail.

He thought of Eric on the Eastern Front. A flash of rage at that anonymous sniper filled him... and fled, leaving him sad and tired.

And then that memory he knew would never shake, of the wolfman leaping on the young boy.

The sky sparkled with stars. At one point, he thought he saw the form of the grizzly behind an old tree, its eyes glinting, but it could have been any animal.