Wolf's Cage
Page 21
Next was a team challenge, the wolves split into small groups, each team consisting of shifters from a variety of different Dens, and they’d been instructed to complete a series of tasks, ranging from simple tracking exercises to complex challenges in which they’d had to work together to navigate obstacles, climb trees, or move heavy objects from one place to another. The catch had been that for the entire duration of the game, all shifters had to be in wolf form, unable to communicate verbally. It was a test of team work, the teams having to manage the whole of their communication and strategy-making using only body language and wolf sounds. A few scuffles had broken out as frustrations flared, but Andre had to admit at the end of it that everyone had learned a great deal, the game as much a training exercise as it was a way to blow off steam.
And now they were in the middle of one of the most difficult exercises. It was an obstacle course, with challenges that included opening gates with complex locks, climbing ladders, crawling through tunnels and solving puzzles. Each challenge was simple enough by itself, but the trick was that each shifter was only allowed three shifts to complete the entire course. They had to choose which form to be in to begin the course, and then make careful decisions each time they wanted to shift. Did they really need their other form to complete the challenge, or could they manage it in their current form? The results were often hilarious, with wolves trying to enter codes into keypads with their claws or open boxes with their mouths, or humans trying to dig through hard ground with their fingernails to find a buried item. One shifter had even tried to complete the tarzan swing in wolf form, gripping the rope with his teeth, and then falling off halfway through when his mouth slipped, and the watching onlookers had been in fits of laughter throughout the entire day.
In truth, it was designed to test the skills of the most experienced wolves, though anyone who wanted to have a go was welcome to try, but most of the participants were inevitably forced to drop out part way through when they found a challenge impossible to complete in their current form, and were left without any more shifts available to them.
Andre had to admit he was entirely impressed with Caleb for coming up with some of the challenges. The man had been a credit to his Den throughout the entire Densmeet. He was somewhat introverted, eschewing the larger, rowdier moments, but sharing plenty of quiet conversations in smaller groups. He’d handled the planning of the Games with precision, catering to shifters of varying ability levels, and when Andre had assisted him with various tasks, he’d given clear instructions and offered heartfelt gratitude each time. All in all, he was shaping up to be a fine candidate for service to the Council, and Andre was looking forward to giving him a shining recommendation, come the conclusion of the Densmeet.
Now, Andre was watching Dee, John and two of the Russian shifters attempt to finish the course. So far Nikolai, Caroline and Sabine were the only ones to have completed it. There were a few more contestants still to go, but the field was rapidly narrowing.
Dee seemed to be stuck at a particular challenge, the task to open a box and retrieve a marble from inside. She was in wolf form – still with one shift available to her, but she’d apparently decided not to use it just yet, and Andre chuckled to himself as he imagined the conversation she was having with Faeydir about the challenge. The wolf had managed to release the lock, but now the catch was stuck, and he wondered how long she would persist before deciding to shift.
Just as he thought she was about to give up, Faeydir unexpectedly solved the problem by deliberately knocking the box to the ground. The impact jolted the catch and the box flew open, the marble rolling off into the grass. A few quick sniffs later, and Faeydir had found the object, picked it up in her mouth and deposited it into the hole that finished the challenge.
Further up, John was tackling the final challenge of the course – a ladder-bridge, laid horizontally across carefully arranged stacks of boxes. While it was an easy task in human form, he had no more shifts available, and was being forced to try and navigate the narrow, slippery rungs of the ladder on his paws instead.
But he was both patient and persistent, taking each step with the utmost care, placing one paw, testing his balance, then easing his weight forward with all the focus of a predator sneaking up on a flighty and nervous prey before lifting his next foot and repeating the exercise.
It took a long time, but at last he’d crossed the ladder, jumping down to the ground and loping across the finish line. Andre checked his time – while there was no time limit, the winner was determined by who completed the course the quickest – and noted that he was a serious contender for first place.
The watching crowd broke into applause, and Andre headed back to the start so the next contestant could begin.
By the time seven o’clock came around, the last of the shifters had either completed the course, or given up, and Andre got together with the other adjudicators to compare times. As one of their newest recruits, he was surprised to see that Dee had successfully completed the course, no doubt due in part to the ingenuity of her unique wolf. But she wasn’t even close to winning the competition, her time one of the longest.
“The winner,” he announced, after a brief consultation, “is Olek, with a time of twenty-three minutes and nine seconds.” A cheer went up from the Ukrainians, the others congratulating him with applause and slaps on the back.
“Second place goes to John,” Andre went on, “with a time of twenty-five minutes and thirteen seconds, and third place to Sabine, twenty-seven minutes forty-one. Congratulations, everyone.”
“Now, before you all head off to celebrate,” Baron said, “let me remind you we have a long day tomorrow. Eleanor will be arriving in the morning, and we have the scavenger hunt in the afternoon. So have a good evening, and may Sirius guard your nights.”
The next morning, Baron was waiting out the front of the manor. Tank had left early to collect Eleanor from Inverness airport, the Council’s private jet flying her in from Italy. Right on schedule, he heard the sound of the van approaching. In general, Baron had little time for the political intricacies of the Council, but Eleanor was a clear exception. She’d done the Den some serious favours in the past, and was a far more straight forward person than the majority of the Council members.
The van rolled to a stop, and Eleanor climbed out without waiting for Tank to open her door for her. That was another thing he liked about her, the ageing woman having no time for misguided acts of chivalry when her own independence would serve just as well.
“Good morning,” she greeted him, her English flawless, if accented. “It’s good to see you again.”
“You too, Ma’am,” Baron replied politely. “It’s an honour to have you here. I hope you had a good flight.”
“The Densmeet has been going well?” she asked, collecting her bag out of the van. Baron held out his hand to take it from her, but she merely smiled, and shook her head. Amused, Baron quickly led the way into the manor. It had started to drizzle, so he didn’t waste any time getting inside.
“Couldn’t ask for better.”
Eleanor paused in the foyer. It was still early, few shifters up and about yet, and she cast a covert glance around the room, finding that they were alone for the moment.
“And how are our candidates going?” she asked softly, a question that surprised Baron. He had assumed that Andre would be giving her regular updates on both Caleb and Caroline, but he was pleased with the chance to weigh in on the subject, nonetheless.
“Better than I could have hoped. Caroline’s developed quite the knack for putting out fires. Caleb’s quiet, but dedicated. You have two excellent candidates right there.” He paused, then asked, with a touch of concern, “How are the Council coping with all this?” He’d heard nothing from them since Andre’s announcement about the death of Amedea, and knew that the past weeks had to have been rough on them.
“Bearing up well enough. These are difficult times. We’ve managed to settle the political issues in Italy, b
ut there’s no telling when the next drama will flare up. I’ve been looking forward to meeting Dee,” Eleanor went on, smoothly changing the subject.
Baron smiled. “I think she’s a little nervous about meeting you. And Faeydir… well, I expect you’ll be a little surprised at her wolf. Even after this long, she still comes up with odd things that surprise the rest of us.”
Eleanor gave him a mysterious little smile. “Indeed. Well, let me put my things away, and then I’ll join you in the dining room. I hope I’m not too late for breakfast.”
In one of the offices in the Noturatii’s main base, Miller sat at a long table covered with a myriad of papers, laptops, maps and diagrams. There were six other men who had been covering the Lakes District with him, frustrations growing each day as they visited property after property, and seemed no closer to solving the mystery of the second pack’s location.
“We found two possible matches in the southern area,” David was saying, and Miller fought to concentrate as weariness tried to overtake him. “One of the estates has been in the same family for three hundred years. The family checks out, but that doesn’t mean they couldn’t be harbouring shifters on the side.”
“Hm, no good,” Hank said, studying the map of the estate. “Too much open ground that’s visible from the neighbouring property.”
“Shifters have been known to work with humans,” another man said, reopening a familiar argument that Miller was rapidly getting sick of. “Maybe they’ve befriended the neighbours.”
“Or bribed them,” another man put in.
“Not likely,” Miller said tiredly. “You keep that shit going from generation to generation, and sooner or later, one of the grandkids is going to get suspicious and start talking. Civilians are nothing if not unreliable. What about the other property?”
“A sheep farm. Plenty of open space, but lots of forest as well.”
“Wolves living with sheep?” Hank scoffed. “Come on, are you serious?”
“They’re wolves with human minds,” David said angrily. “Just because they eat meat doesn’t mean they’re going to kill their own livestock. They’ve got to be smart enough to cover their own tracks with a legitimate business.”
The arguments had been going on for hours, one of the men putting forth a likely property, only to have the others argue him down. At this rate, they were going to cross off every single property on their list, and have nothing to show for their efforts. The shifters had to be there somewhere!
“Miller!” Miller jumped at the harsh shout, Jacob marching into the room moments later with a file in his hand, agitation written all over him. He took one look at the table, and swore blackly. “Fucking hell, are you still messing about with that bloody map? No, whatever,” he snapped, when Miller went to reply. “We’ve got news. Take a look at this.” He thrust the file at Miller. “Look!”
Opening the file, he saw that the first page was a photo of that shifter they had captured earlier in the year, the one who had escaped after the lab explosion, and he quickly turned to the next page. An image of the same man, but in a far different location than the lab. This one was in a petrol station, a large white van parked beside him, the petrol pump in his hand.
“CCTV,” Jacob snapped. “Look at the location.”
Miller did, turning to the next page, the report on where the photograph had come from, and when… and his jaw dropped as he took in the information.
“Scotland,” he said in awe. “Inverness. Two hours ago? Are you serious?” This was big news.
“Our computers have been running facial recognition scans,” Jacob informed him, all but jumping out of his skin in excitement. “The dog is in Scotland! We’ve managed to get our hands on some of the traffic monitoring feeds. He was heading south. We lost track of him somewhere around Tomatin.”
“What the fuck are they doing in Scotland?” one of the men asked, reading the file over Miller’s shoulder.
“What does it matter?” Jacob shouted. “Recruitment drive? Buying weapons? Who cares? The point is, the bastard’s in Scotland, and we have a very narrow window before he disappears off the radar again. So what are you waiting for?”
Miller’s mind was racing as he rapidly threw a plan together. “We’ll need a strong team,” he said pragmatically. “Twelve men. Guns. Explosives. Body armour. The whole bit.”
“To take down one man?” someone asked incredulously.
“Who says he’s only one man?” Miller replied. “He could have friends with him. And we’ve all seen what kind of hell breaks loose when a bunch of them get together. So I want to go prepared. No fucking this one up, you hear me?” The men around him nodded in agreement.
“And I want dogs,” he added, turning to Jacob. “The shifters can fight in wolf form, so we’re going to need to level the playing field.”
“On that note,” one of the men interrupted, “Research and Development have been working on a little experiment. We read the reports of the attack on the lab. It said that the wolves were wearing body armour. So we’ve put together a little gift.” He tapped a few keys on his computer, and then spun it around. On the screen was an image of a Rottweiler, one of the Noturatii’s trained scent dogs… and he was wearing a Kevlar vest.
“Oh, get out of town! That’s brilliant.”
“Move,” Jacob ordered sharply, shoving Miller away from his computer. He scanned through a few files, checked a staff log, and sat back with a look of glee on his face. “We have six dogs that can be at the base and ready to roll within two hours. Think that’ll be enough?”
“Perfect,” Miller replied. “We’ll need a plane to get us to Inverness. It would take too long to drive.”
“Done,” Jacob promised, typing rapidly into the computer.
“All right, everyone,” Miller told the men waiting eagerly all around the table. “Hank, get the rest of Delta Squad and meet me at the weapons store. David, you’re on logistics. Find the last known location of that van and see if you can work out where it was headed. Adrian, meet the dog handlers as they come in and brief them on the situation. We’ve got two hours until we roll, people. Move it!”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Cassandra Morris stared at the trees around her in dismay. She checked her phone again, praying that the thing would miraculously start working, but the screen remained stubbornly blank, the battery having gone flat about fifteen minutes ago.
She was an idiot, she acknowledged to herself, glancing around again, hoping that something would look familiar.
But no luck.
She’d been so excited about this trip, the end of high school, a week away camping with her friends, and from the campsite, she’d spotted a high peak in the hills that had looked perfect for a photo of the scenery.
The climb up here had been long, but not too strenuous, the ground rocky, the bushes becoming gradually thicker until she’d emerged out the top of the trees to see what was an even more beautiful view than she had imagined.
All had been going well… until she’d gone to climb back down, and realised that she had no idea which way she’d come.
She cursed under her breath, trying to remember the layout of the camp site, any landmarks that might set her on the right path.
Nothing.
Fuck.
Oh well, she sighed to herself. This wasn’t the most remote part of Scotland, after all. There were farms and houses dotted throughout the countryside, and if she was careful, if she started walking now, then it was only a matter of time before she had to run into one of them.
Picking a direction at random, she set off down the hill. She checked the position of the sun, to make sure she didn’t end up walking in circles, and resolved to keep a positive outlook. All she had to do was find a road. A walking track. Another hiker who could tell her where to go. It was summer, after all, and Scotland was chock full of tourists this time of year.
Keep your chin up, she told herself, refusing to give in to the fear that niggled at
the back of her mind. And next time, she must pay more attention to where she was going. Or better yet, not leave the path in the first place.
Fifty-five shifters were gathered out the front of the manor, ready and raring for the last of the Games to begin.
This final challenge was a scavenger hunt, a series of tasks outlined on a list that had been given to each group. Some were simple – collect a pine cone, for example, or find a flower of a particular type, while others were more challenging – form a wolf pyramid, standing on each other’s backs, or catch a fish from the river. Each task accumulated points – more points for the tougher tasks – and there was a strict time limit. Every wolf on the team had to be back at the starting point in exactly two hours, or severe penalties were imposed for each minute they were late. It was a game of strategy as much as one of skill, as each team had to decide which tasks would take the least time to complete, and yet earn them the most points.
They were split into six teams, each team containing a mix of wolves of different rank, varying ability and with a range of ages. They were allowed to shift as many times as they liked, but at the same time, each team contained at least one person who didn’t speak the language of the others. Each team had been given a backpack to store their collected items and a camera to take photographic evidence of their other feats.
As he wasn’t officially a member of any of the Dens, Andre had been disqualified from entering most of the Games, but Nikolai had argued for his inclusion in this one, something the other shifters had enthusiastically agreed to, though to even out the odds, he’d been put on a team with George, the oldest and weakest wolf, so that his exceptional skills wouldn’t give his team too great an advantage.
Once again, the game wasn’t just for fun – it was a test of skill and teamwork, and the prize for each member of the winning team was a £100 online shopping voucher.