Nick had left one of his alive, too. The man’s jaw was horribly disfigured from the butt-stroke of Nick’s rifle.
Annika was leaning over Meta, groaning in pain and rage. Char appeared.
“Sorry, dear, never got a good angle before it was all over.”
The rest of the team appeared.
“Secure the area,” Char ordered. “Look for accomplices.”
The others spread out, each taking a different cardinal direction.
“Okay, dickless, I have some questions for you,” Terry started, kneeling on the ground to make himself comfortable.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
New York City
“Butch and Skippy don’t look very open to being kidnapped,” Marcie said.
“Yup. Not sure how this is going to work. How long have we been here?” Shonna wondered.
“A while. We’ll be here as long as we need to be, so relax and make yourself comfortable.”
Shonna and Merrit sat on the floor of the long-abandoned room. Tyson and Edwin were in the room, too. Marcie had stopped by to check in. Kae, Cory, and Ramses were waiting on the other side of the street in a basement with a window facing the corner where they’d propped Butch and Skippy.
“Stay frosty,” Marcie encouraged on her way out.
She looked at the empty hallway and stopped, closed her eyes, and reached out with her enhanced senses. She found her team, the Weres, standing out brightly in the gray mist while the enhanced appeared as light shadows. She saw them, too. A few humans were around, shadows without detail. She checked briefly, but they looked disorganized.
Marcie opened her eyes and moved on, descending the stairs to the door out. She looked into the street before walking out, strolling casually into the open area and down the street. Peace Enforcers were there, but she discounted the pair that milled about. They were looking for criminals. That clearly wasn’t her or the others on the tac teams.
Motor vehicles rarely plied the streets of the city, leaving the roads to pedestrians. Cars had not yet been imported in great numbers. Vehicles from the three major brands were beginning to trickle in—Toyota, Nissan, and Honda.
Butch and Skippy had helped reestablish public transit, which advanced the city faster than anything else after the WWDE. Civilization had returned. Terry had always given the two Werewolves a hard time, because they were never concerned about staying in shape or learning what it took to be special warriors within the FDG.
That wasn’t their thing and never would be.
Marcie nodded as she walked past the two Werewolves. They both made faces at her, forcing her to look away so she wouldn’t start laughing. The moment of distraction was all it took.
Two Peace Enforcers jammed their arc rods into Marcie’s sides. Her nanocytes fought against the surge. Clubs battered her head. She thought she heard her husband yell, but it was far away.
Something exploded in the street. A car screamed in, sliding to a stop.
Marcie dove forward to escape her attackers, tucking her head to hit and roll. She came up with her hands ready. They were on her. She blocked a baton as it sent energy into her arm. She pulled away and danced backward. The second attacked.
She was done playing defense. She surged past the arc rod and hit the man in the throat with a knife-hand. She crouched and spun, driving her left fist into the man’s groin so hard it lifted him off the ground. She planted a foot and punched him in the side of the head with her right fist, accelerating his downward fall.
His head hit the pavement with a sickening crunch. Marcie grimaced as she turned to run toward Butch and Skippy, but they had been bagged and stuffed into the car. It spun its wheels as the engine revved. They caught hold of the pavement and the vehicle shot down the street away from Marcie. Kae, Cory, and Ramses worked their way past the rubble of the blown doorway and joined Marcie in the street.
The tac team had not only been seen, but compromised. Someone had plotted a counterattack that resulted in the kidnapping of the two Weres. The bait had been taken off the trap. The two Peace Enforcers had been killed, but Marcie suspected whoever planned the operation considered the security personnel expendable.
Marcie shrugged off Cory’s attempt to see if she was okay. Marcie called the pod and directed it to pick them up from the roof of the building behind her.
“We’ll be seen,” Kae told her.
“I don’t fucking care. We just lost two of our own, and we need to find them before they’re bled dry.”
Kae picked up the arc rods and the tac team jogged away, running into Shonna, Merrit, Tyson, and Edwin. They waved at them to follow on their way back into the building.
Chicago
Terry ground his teeth together, but only briefly. “They got Butch and Skippy,” he told those present. “Sounded like a high-speed hit, something done by professionals. We’re going after those who are going after us.”
The men were bound and watching them closely. Nick, Samantha, Sue, and Timmons were outside with Gerry and a few of his best Werewolves making sure the interrogation would be secure.
“We really need you to come clean. I’m not one for torture, but I will turn you over to those who relish it. One last time, who do you work for?” Terry asked calmly.
“You can suck my balls!” one of the men said boldly.
“Fair enough. I can only help those who help me. Your fate is out of my hands, no longer my responsibility. What you will be forced to endure is the consequence of your decisions, not mine.” Terry walked away without getting angry. He went outside to talk with Gerry before taking his team to New York City to help in the search for Butch and Skippy.
They weren’t his favorite Weres, but they were on his side doing what he asked them to do. He had to go after them.
***
Char let Terry leave before she leaned close to the man. He smiled as he looked into her purple eyes. She grabbed him by the crotch and twisted viciously. He screamed into her face the cry of agony.
She twisted a little further. Char backhanded the other man on her way outside. The others followed.
Char held the door as the tac team exited and Gerry and his people entered. Their grim expressions suggested that the prisoners weren’t in for a good time.
“Back to the pod, best possible speed to New York City,” Terry told the group. Three Werewolves, four enhanced, and two humans ran through the streets of Chicago on their way to a grove of trees where the pod waited.
No one wanted to get in their way. The road cleared and Terry’s tac team made good time.
Sarah had seen what her grandmother had done to the man. Sarah wanted to ask what the expectations from the various applications of pain were. She wanted to know about torture and its effectiveness as she continued her studies of the military.
They made it to the pod, loaded up, and flew away at max acceleration. Terry called Marcie so they could turn the pods over to Eve’s control. They needed her help to best manage the flight search patterns over New York City. The pods would fly as low as possible while those with the ability to sense other users of etheric energy would do their thing. They all knew what Butch and Skippy looked like within the mists of the other dimension.
“We have to find them,” Terry declared. No one disagreed. None of them seemed hopeful.
New York City was a big place, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t try.
The group of men had a five-minute head start on Marcie and her team. They assessed the roads, Shonna with Tyson on one rooftop at a main intersection and Merrit with Edwin at another. The pod restricted its search area to a cone in the direction the car had gone.
Terry’s pod didn’t arrive for another forty-five minutes.
“I think we lost them,” Marcie said softly into the comm system.
“We’ll start close to the abduction site and work our way outward in a circular pattern, see what we can see.”
“They raced off,” Marcie started. “Okay, we’ll continue as we a
re, tightening our pattern and staying as close to the ground as possible.”
“Sounds good, Marcie. Not your fault. We’re fighting a war and although we can’t win all the battles, we sure as hell will win the war.”
***
Marcie did not reply. She turned her attention back to the screen for a moment before diving back into the etheric, drawing on its power to help her look.
The others in the pod watched, listening for any word. There was nothing they could do but wait.
***
Terry’s pod descended in broad daylight to the spot indicated on the map. The attack site.
A number of Peace Enforcers were there. The external cameras zoomed in on the group. They pointed their batons and shook them.
Terry gave the screen the finger. Char, Sue, and Timmons did their thing, concentrating as they looked for the other Werewolves.
Sarah sat next to her grandfather, watching the screen intently.
Three blocks from the attack site, they found a well-guarded underground parking garage.
“We need to check that out,” Terry told the group, looking at the eager faces. Meta was still woozy and Annika was terrified. It wasn’t a good look on a Werewolf. “Char, Kim, Auburn, and Sarah with me. The rest of you defend this pod with your lives. Take off if you have to, but don’t let it fall into the hands of the ones attacking the Unknown World.”
“You think they’re here?” Char asked.
“I have a hunch,” Terry said. In his mind, there was no better place to hide a car than in a car park. Why guard a garage? Cars were rare, which made them enviable to own, but they were rare, so the thieves would inevitably be caught by people wealthy enough to own cars.
Which meant wealthy enough to hire muscle that would ruin a thief’s day.
The pod hovered a couple feet above the roof as it dropped the ramp and Terry led his small group toward the stairs. The pod carefully settled onto the rooftop until it was certain it could hold the weight. The engines remained running to keep the pod from crashing through should the supports give way.
Char stayed at Terry’s shoulder as they hurried down the steps, three levels, then six levels deep. Char tapped Terry’s shoulder. “Up ahead, there’s something.”
Terry hit the seventh level of the garage, the bottom level. It was lit brightly. Extra wiring ran throughout the space, which lights were hooked to.
Humans. Were or Forsaken wouldn’t need that much light.
Terry pulled his sword, carrying it in one hand. His M1911A1 pistol rested comfortable in his left as he walked through the door to the level. He waved at the others to spread out as he strolled boldly forward. At the far end, he saw what he was looking for—the place that looked like a small medical facility.
He wrinkled his nose at the stench. Terry turned to Char, who was holding her nose. The pistol in her right hand hung loosely by her side. Her finger was on the trigger as always.
Terry knew not to comment. He looked for people, but couldn’t see anyone. Kae and Ramses flared wide to the left where the most space was. The wall on the right flank would prevent any surprises from that direction. Cory stayed close to Sarah, between Terry and the wall. Char walked to his left.
Terry saw where the smell was coming from. A pile of bodies were shoved in a corner beyond the four tables. Bloody needles and rags were piled on each side table, hooked to pumps that would expedite the draining of the victims’ blood.
Each of the tables was occupied by a withered corpse. One Forsaken and three Were. Terry recognized the clothes on two of them.
They’d found Butch and Skippy.
Rifles opened up to their left, breaking the others from their reverie. They jumped for cover, but the rifles silenced. Kae and Ramses were running toward a door.
Terry and Char jumped up and dashed after them.
“Clear!” Kae called out.
The two men looked like medical orderlies. “Why did you shoot them?” Char asked.
“Weapons,” Kae said. Ramses flipped one over with a toe. Each carried a pistol at their belt.
“Good catch,” Char replied.
Terry studied the layout of the garage’s bottom level. The small room from where the orderlies had been was the only other separate space in the garage. The ramp upward and the stairs were the only way in or out.
A black Nissan Maxima sat in the middle of the garage.
Terry pointed for Kae and Ramses to watch the ramp so he could put his weapons away.
He punched buttons on his comm device. “The vehicle that took Butch and Skippy was black, wasn’t it?”
“It was,” Marcie replied. “You found it?”
“We found them. Butch and Skippy didn’t make it. We’ll contact the local pack chapter of the NAPC and set up surveillance of this garage. I would expect them to come back. One vehicle to snatch the victims, another to make the sale. They’ll be back.”
Terry saw that the keys were still in the car. “Put them in the trunk and climb in,” he told his people. Cory and Sarah picked up their friends, even though Kae and Ramses waved at them to stop, that they’d take care of it.
The women did the deed, putting the bodies in the trunk before all five piled in. Terry started the engine. It came to life, smoothly and quietly. He put it in gear and gave it some gas. The car responded better than any of the military vehicles he’d been driving. He could barely remember driving a real car.
It had been a long, long time.
He accelerated up the ramp, circling his way to the top. Kae called the pod to tell them they were driving up so the others didn’t open fire. Char called the council and told them to get someone over to the parking garage. They waffled at first, but Char was in no mood to accept anything less than immediate and unconditional compliance.
Terry slowed the car as he rolled onto the top level. He stopped, got out, and put Butch and Skippy into the pod, then Terry aimed the vehicle at the retaining wall. Held the brake down while he jammed a rod against the accelerator pedal. He vaulted free as the car screamed forward, crashing through the barrier and falling three stories to the street below. By the time it hit, Terry was already aboard and the pod was flying way.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
San Francisco
“No one ever came back,” the Werewolf said. Char didn’t look surprised. “It was a grab and go. I’m sure this will set their operation back, but I’m not sure by how far.”
“How in the fuck can humans be kidnapping Were?” Char demanded. “Someone has to be giving them up. There’s a Were or Forsaken directing them. Find that cheesedick, and we’ll break the back of their operation.”
“We have all possible feelers out, but we keep losing people. They are afraid. Ain’t that some shit? Were, afraid of humans. Something about a Golden City where Weres can live in peace. Nirvana or some crap. I can’t believe they’d fall for something like that.”
“Sanctuary never works out well, usually only for the ones running the so-called Xanadu. There is no Sanctuary,” Char declared.
“I know that and you know that, but people who are afraid are willing to put their trust in anything promising freedom and security.”
Char closed the channel and blew out a lungful of air.
“Our new enemy represents the best of everyone we’ve ever faced. They’re going after the Unknown World with a vengeance, but in a roundabout way, bringing humans into the fray, showing them how Weres can be defeated. They are waging a campaign of terror. Wars against the concept of terrorism have never succeeded. Campaigns against those behind the terror have been successful,” Terry said, reaching into his knowledge of history.
He sat quietly as he reviewed the books, one by one, looking for any title that would help them. To those who didn’t know him, they would have thought he was sleeping.
Char left him alone. “Sparring,” she said to the others. Their energy was destroyed with their most recent loss. Terry was at peace with his past, but she wondered
how many new losses it would take to tip him over the edge. She needed to think too, but her best thoughts came during a good workout.
After an hour, Terry joined them—his family and closest friends, along with what remained of the FDG.
He watched until he was asked to referee, and then he stood in the ring to teach, train, and step in when called.
Sarah wanted to spar with him. Marcie and Char were the only two with sufficient speed and experience to challenge Terry Henry. Sarah was no match for them, but she wanted to be the best, which meant that she needed to fight the best until the day she could stand toe to toe with Terry Henry Walton.
He acceded after she fared well against the Werewolves, lasting more than a minute against Timmons and fighting Sue to a draw.
She was getting cocky. Terry wouldn’t pull any punches. He and Char had trained in the kung fu style at the monastery. He’d learned more techniques. His martial arts were honed to a level comparable with Akio’s.
Terry understood Sarah’s desire to challenge the best. He wanted to spar with Akio, see how much he had improved. If it was enough… If it would ever be enough.
At least fifty people gathered around to watch the fight. Sarah seemed small compared to the colonel, but she had filled out. Still a young woman, but well-muscled and well-trained.
Terry kept trying to convince her that her mind was her greatest gift. He wanted her in the books as much as in the ring, but she was an adult, responsible for her own decisions now.
Terry circled casually, but ready. He remained on the balls of his feet as he side-stepped. He crossed his feet, something he had thought he wasn’t supposed to do, but found that in some poses, the crossed feet gave him more power for certain counterstrikes, while not exposing him to greater risk.
He moved like a liquid flowing through a glass tube. Sarah was smooth, but not that smooth. She bided her time. She liked to attack first, but had been knocked senseless too many times by her grandfather to open herself up that way.
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