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Ansel...

“Do you have them?” Ansel’s boss asked. The Wolf stood on the top floor of an Atlanta tech company, a cover for their business on the East Coast. He hadn’t been to this office in six months. It had been ages since he’d had to explain his choices to his higher-ups. Considering the complete shit show the last week had been, he’d been expecting the call from Europe.

“Safe and sound. Those bears are as tenacious as you claimed.”

“And the young tracker the Sheep kidnapped?”

“Alive. Traumatized, but whole. We have the child wrapped in blankets and headed to the closest hub with her entire crew. The bears are being debriefed.” The connection was choppy. “I flew to Georgia last night to resolve some lingering issues.” He looked out over the city lights. “Our reception isn’t good. If we get disconnected, should I call you back?”

“No, we will contact you if the call drops. How many children were lost?”

“None.”

There was a pause before they said, “How have you dealt with her team? It would appear they managed something you couldn’t. I would think that should earn them some leniency.”

“Holly’s pack has been beyond reckless and difficult to control. Her continued presence and compliance should make it possible to contain them. The girl needs to be considered for a future leadership track. Her little team is bonded to her like nothing I have seen in a junior team. We have to watch them every moment. But the youthful Wolves … They are only watching Holly. With the right support and training, she will outgrow her impulsiveness.”

“Do you have a number for the amount of Sheep culled? One, two?

“We are interviewing them one at a time to get a clear count of what happened. We are certain it was over a dozen.”

“Valid and merited culls?”

“Yes.” There was a long silence on the other end. “And there is one more thing.”

“Do I want to know?”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“It’s important, you know. There was a second feed, where the captive girl was videoed in wolf form, killing one of her captors.”

“The eleven-year-old?”

“Yes. The camera was knocked off kilter and as it fell, images from the madmen’s screen were captured. We have a section of the names and addresses of several Sheep that were tuned in to view the slaughter of a child.”

“Use that information prudently.” The line went dead before Ansel could explain further. He stretched his fingers wide, opening his hand. He’d been gripping the phone too tightly. The door to his office abruptly opened, and he turned to yell at the unannounced intrusion.

Rig walked into the room dressed in leathers, with his helmet under his arm. Ansel swallowed the harsh words he was about to spew. It was good to see him whole and moving like a young man again. He lifted his chin and said, “I don’t know why you wear that thing. Your head is as hard as a rock.” He noticed the rental company’s keys in his brother’s hand.

“Mostly, because my understanding is that my skull isn’t re-attachable.” Rig gestured to his office chair. “You need to sit down.”

“Why?”

“You will not like what I am about to tell you.” His brother pushed the paper spread out on his desk to the side and sat on the edge. Some of the lightness of his temperament hadn’t returned with the healing of his body. He’d gained a density and seriousness that Ansel found alien. He sank into his chair and prepared for whatever came next.

“The mountain is a hive of bees.”

“That isn’t a surprise, considering everything that has happened. They hate change. And visibility impacts their ability to continue their enterprise under the radar.”

“It’s not that. You need to know that Joe is dying.” Rig pulled his gloves off.

A jolt shot through Ansel. “Impossible.”

“He is refusing treatment. From what I’m hearing, he is blaming himself for all that has happened.”

“So their old witch of a dictator is talking to you, not me, now?”

Rig flicked a piece of ash from his leather pants and didn’t answer. There had been a time his brother would have rambled on, questioning his own words and opinions. Ansel realized with a start that his brother’s boyhood had bled out of him. He took a deep breath.

“As if we don’t have enough going on. What on earth am I supposed to do about that? Isn’t that their business to resolve? He’s the oldest of our kind that I have ever heard of.”

“From what Snow explained to me, he has been healing himself for years. Old Joe has stitched himself back together, over and over again. Kennedy is debating going to him, but we don’t trust the mountain. And Ansel.”

“What now?”

“She wants her men returned to her. Right now, and permanently.”

Just as Ansel was about to give a noncommittal answer, the office door flew open and his assistant burst in, breathless. “I’m sorry.”

Ansel stood up angrily, causing his chair to spin backward. “Has everyone forgotten basic curtesy this morning?”

“They are gone.” The man’s eyes were wide, and his breathing labored, as if he had run there.

“What are you talking about?”

“Holly and her team. They stole another van.”

Ansel picked up the stapler off of his desk and hefted it toward the wall. It sank into the plaster and stayed there. “There is no way. Who the hell was watching them?”

“The hub won’t say. And Sir, she took the bears with her.”

Rig burst out in laughter. “I’ve gotta meet this kid.”