Wolf's Edge (The Nick Lupo Series Book 4)

by W. D. Gagliani

  “Now let’s make the other hand match, shall we?”

  “Noooooooooooooo! Wait, wait, I’ll tell you what you want! Please!”

  “Yes you will,” the quiet voice said, “but I want to make sure you’ll tell me the truth. And I want you to be able to avoid the need for manicures. We’ll talk in a minute, you and I.”

  Snip-snip-snip-snip.

  The victim’s screaming degenerated into incoherent syllables strung together with the sound of saliva and snot hitting the concrete floor.

  Snip.

  “There, Doctor Marcowicz. Now we can continue our chat.” He patted the bleeding fingers dry with a red-blotted towel, waited, and patted again. Meanwhile, Marcowicz had fainted.

  For the next half hour, Mordred poked and prodded with a variety of implements. He cut, sliced, yanked, sawed, and stabbed, and finally the ragged, high-pitched and increasingly incoherent voice of Marcowicz turned into a pathetic gurgle and then he died, whatever was left of him hunched over in the slick chair.

  Sigfried nodded at Wilcox. “A good lesson, I’d say. Thank you for sharing it with us. Find out more about this Griff Killian and forward it to me. You will travel there and provide Mordred with some back-up, as well as another assignment we’ll discuss. Mordred has my orders, and now so will you. Wait for me outside.”

  “Sir.” Wilcox saluted stiffly and exited the conference room.

  Sigfried surveyed his council members. He noted those who seemed the most nervous, made mental notes for confirmation of his conclusions, then arose.

  “I’m off to the next set of hearings. Needless to say, I will not be in a mood to be kind on my return. Wolfpaw will survive and thrive. And today you have seen the culmination of several lines of valuable research. Thank you all very much.”

  He strode from the room.

  The microphones would pick up everything he needed to know. The council would look decidedly different in a week.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jessie

  “What in the hell are you telling me?” Lupo’s voice soared a bit. Fortunately the diner was nearly empty, and the waitresses were reluctant to wade amongst the empty tables and booths unless summoned.

  “Nick, I know it doesn’t make sense, but Heather says she has information you need. She connected it to the case you have now.”

  “You mean cases, plural. The guy’s escalating. And he’s definitely trying to tell me something, but the message is garbled.”

  “What do you mean?” She reached out and took his callused, scarred hand in hers.

  His hand was very badly scarred.

  “He’s either warning me or threatening me, but I can’t figure out which. But he’s killing innocent people to do it, so he’s got to be stopped no matter what. Now tell me about Heather.”

  She shared a quick version of how Heather had approached her, how she looked different, and what she had said—but also that there was more she would only share with Lupo himself.

  “Well, shit, Jess, I don’t have anything much to say to her. She helped Arnow—” He stopped suddenly in mid-sentence.

  “Helped Arnow what?”

  Suddenly he seemed evasive. “She helped him get over his grief, kind of, but then she dumped him and took off. Again. She has a history of running, doesn’t she? And now that she’s one of—like me, she’s even harder to trust because I can’t ever figure out her motives.”

  “Hm, kind of like this guy who’s leaving you the messages. Could it be her, Nick? Could she be the one?”

  He rubbed his neck absently. “Good theory, but I let the Creature check one of the crime scenes, and it’s definitely a male. I’d know if it’s a female.” He stopped for a second. “Though not if she was in on it, I guess.”

  “Nick…”

  “I’m gonna have to talk to her, aren’t I? Even if I don’t trust her. Maybe she’s legit.”

  “That would be a first.”

  “Yeah, it would.”

  His anger had settled a bit, and then their food came and they stopped talking long enough to fuel up. When she looked in his eyes, though, she saw only mystery and uncertainty.

  Sigfried

  “Wilcox, step into my office.” Sigfried held his door, enjoying the flash of fear he’d caused in the big man.

  “Yes, sir.” He sat where Sigfried motioned him. “At ease.”

  “Major Wilcox, as a former Alpha Team commander, you no doubt know that when my predecessor dispatched your group to this Wisconsin backwater, there was a purpose beside taking out those who know about the werewolf gene.”

  Wilcox nodded, relaxing slightly now that he didn’t think he would be summarily executed.

  Sigfried continued. He was in a talkative mood. “There was a reason we were interested in that area, and why we built a laboratory facility nearby and staffed it with several of our brilliant scientists. That reason was the cop, Dominic Lupo. The cop was of interest because his strain had been created with the input of a minor player who turned out to be somewhat more—he’s of no interest to you, because he’s long gone.”

  Sigfried stroked his goatee, which made him look Satanic, a look he wasn’t altogether unhappy with.

  “Wilcox, you’re to provide Mordred with back-up if he needs it, as I said, but I also want you to scout our laboratory facility near Minocqua. Quaint place, that. You’ll be using my personal plane.”

  “Yes, sir,” Wilcox said, listening to the rest of his orders.

  Heather

  They were sitting in a booth, waiting for her. The diner was half empty, and she ordered coffee and a bagel before sliding in across from them.

  Nice psychology, she thought. Sitting across from her, they were consciously together and also united against her, in case she was wondering. This wasn’t going to be a friendly meeting, but then she hadn’t expected it to be.

  She’d been surprised by the quick call, and that they were willing to meet her right then.

  She looked from Jessie to Lupo and smiled slightly. Jessie was stifling her irritation. Lupo’s nostrils were flaring, and Heather wasn’t sure whether it was anger or awakened lust, but she found them sexy all the same. She knew one of her feet was touching one of his under the table—her long legs always caused her trouble in booths. In this case, she liked it.

  Lupo moved his foot just enough to break the connection.

  She smiled more widely.

  “Well, it’s nice to see you two still together. What you went through, most couples would have broken up over. I’m happy for you.”

  They said nothing, but Jessie rolled her eyes.

  Given the gambling thing, Heather figured not all waters were smooth in that harbor.

  Her coffee came and she wrapped her long fingers around the mug.

  “Nick, how’s your case? I hear you’re the task force guy.”

  She took a long sip and left a dark smudge on the rim of her mug. She saw Lupo staring at it before he looked up and into her eyes.

  Inside, she smiled. He was still hers, if only physically.

  The long silence was deafening. But she was adept at riding out pauses and letting her interviewees nervously spill guts.

  “You look different,” Lupo said finally, assessing.

  Jessie obviously felt the vibe between them, and Heather sensed her muscles tightening from across the table.

  “But not that different,” he continued. “I saw you, caught a glance of you at the scene. I should have looked more closely.”

  “You like it?” She fanned her very dark hair.

  “It suits you.”

  “Can we get back to why you’re here?” Jessie erupted, clearly annoyed by the preliminaries.

  The chunky waitress came with her bagel and more coffee for all three. Jessie and Lupo didn’t touch their mugs, but Heather spread cream cheese over half her bagel and took a bite.

  A seductive bite, perhaps. Her eyes never left Lupo’s, not until he broke away.

  Then she put down
the bagel, licked the corner of her lip, and smiled crookedly. “I guess a rare steak would have been a better choice.”

  Lupo glared at her. “Heather,” he started.

  She held up a hand.

  “Okay, I have information you need. I’m not asking anything in exchange for it, because I think it affects us all. But I’ve been investigating our friends over at Wolfpaw and, believe me, we only saw the tip of the iceberg up to now.”

  They leaned in unconsciously and she smiled to herself.

  At least they were listening.

  “I found out more than even I expected. The stuff is out there, if you know where to look. Our old friends the mercenaries were just three of the many wolves they have in the ranks. Two of them were direct descendants of Nazi bastards from the Werwolf Division. Ring a bell, Nick?”

  “Shit, yeah, Tom started by doing a little research, and then we both did. We found out they’d been all over northern Italy at the end of the war. My father had some history there that my grandmother and he wouldn’t talk much about.”

  Heather nodded. “So anyway, apparently the Werwolf Division guys weren’t all werewolves, but enough of them were. But what’s more is that when they were commissioned, the head honcho—a sadistic asshole named vonStumpfahren…”

  “Sounds like a Volkswagen ad,” Jessie said, shaking her head.

  “Yeah, well, he was something else. But he wasn’t the worst. He employed another one of those sadistic bastard concentration camp doctors, like Mengele, and funded his research.”

  “On humans?” Jessie made a face.

  “Yes and no. On humans, and on…werewolves.”

  “You’re going to connect this to Wolfpaw?” Lupo was hooked. This was interesting stuff. If only they weren’t after your ass.

  “Yeah, so like I said Wolfpaw seems to have been born as a front for remaining descendants of the Werwolf group. They incorporated to do what they’d always done well—wage war. Somewhere along the line, these two things intertwined—whoever in the Werwolf Division survived the war, and a modern right-wing paramilitary group with grandiose ideas of selling their services to high bidder nations.”

  “Okay, so what?” Lupo said, leaning back. “I already know about some of that. I mean, we heard about Werwolf from Tom Arnow, and we have that strange silver dagger.”

  “You still have that?”

  “Yes, of course. It’s a useful weapon against one of us.”

  The way he said it, Heather understood she was included on the short list of those who might be at the receiving end of that sharp implement.

  “Well, I know a few more things about that dagger.”

  “How did you find out this kind of information?” Jessie said.

  Heather fixed her with an intentionally condescending stare. “I am an investigative journalist.”

  “What else did you find out?” Lupo looked askance at Jessie for one quick second.

  “I know there was a matched set, and one of them ended up with the tribe. That’s the one you have.”

  “What about the other one?”

  “Missing, right now, but I gather it’s not supposed to be.”

  Lupo took a pull of his coffee. He made a face. “Any idea what the story is behind them? And where the missing one might be?”

  “I think the missing dagger wasn’t far from its partner, so it would have been up north. But I don’t think the tribe had it. Somebody on the inside gave one to them, but kept the other one. As for as their story, I’m afraid I only have some speculative tidbits.”

  “Why are you keeping us in suspense?” Jessie asked. “We’re not your mindless television audience, waiting for the exciting part.”

  Heather had to laugh. Jessie’s feelings about her were quite clear.

  “Look, you know the whole werewolf thing isn’t exactly normal. We’ve got to come from somewhere—but we’re not on the evolutionary chart, know what I mean? There’s some supernatural aspect we just don’t know about. That’s the bottom line. Whoever made those daggers, and whoever has them, must know. I don’t know—yet. The reason I’m talking to you is more directly related to Wolfpaw.”

  “So what is it?” Lupo asked.

  Heather chuckled. “Always to the point, eh? As I told Jessie here, I’ve sat in on the first set of hearings. They look like they’re gonna throw the book at the company. But I have sources who tell me Wolfpaw has begun a campaign of secret threats against the congressmen, and the one woman, that’s guaranteed to make them all back off. They’re not going to have to pay for all those crimes their werewolves committed in Iraq and a dozen other places. They make other contractors look like fucking angels by comparison, mostly because the others are human.”

  She drank some coffee and looked at Lupo over the mug, smiling wickedly.

  “The werewolves have greater needs,” she said. “You know that as well as I do.”

  “I keep my needs under control,” he said.

  “Not always, Nick, not always.” She didn’t look at Jessie, but she sure felt the doctor’s eyes on her. Like gun sights.

  “Come on,” he growled. “There’s got to be more. Not surprising to think they’re planning to weasel and squirm their way out of paying for the crimes. What else?”

  Heather paused for effect.

  “I have it on good authority that Wolfpaw has been infiltrating the U.S. armed services, both leadership and ranks, with the intention of launching a silent coup on the government. With the intent to create a sort of American Fourth Reich, a secretly Nazi regime.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t get your panties in an uproar,” Heather whispered, glancing around. Fortunately the diner was still mostly empty. “It’s a long-term plan. You know we age more slowly than average humans. They expect it to take a while. But they’re well on their way. Some obstacles they kill, some they buy. Some they convert. Being brought up on these federal charges was a speed bump. You are a speed bump. But they have time.”

  “Shit, I didn’t expect this sort of grandiose super-villain stuff.”

  “You poke the hornets’ nest, though, and you get stung. Plus you never know what the hornets are doing in there.”

  Jessie said, “And what about us? Why are you here? We can’t really figure in their plans for world domination.”

  “Not world, just United States.”

  “Whatever.” Jessie waved her off.

  “I’m here because Nick is a big speed bump. So am I, but I haven’t hurt them like he has. He knows what they are, how to fight them. He has that dagger. He can fight werewolves with silver, which they can’t do. And I’m here because there’s something going on here, too, and I don’t exactly know what it is. I’d expect them to move against you, Nick, especially after what you did to them, and what you know, but there’s no Alpha Team on its way. They’re being more subtle. But there’s a buzz about someone, an assassin, being sent to…”

  “Sent to what?” Lupo asked, his nostrils really flaring now.

  “That’s just it, I couldn’t find out what they’re planning. The CEO, you’ve seen him on TV, is this mysterious person whose name is supposedly Sigfried… That’s probably an alias—they like their Arthurian and Wagner references, just like their ancestors, the Nazis. Anyway, I know he’s sent one of his most secret operatives here, but not what he’s supposed to do.”

  “Know who?”

  “No. But there’s this big military guy who was at one of the crime scenes. He looks good for it.”

  “I know about him.”

  “Nick?” Jessie said, surprised. She reached for his hand but more angrily than with concern.

  “Relax, Jess. His name is Geoff Simonson. He’s on our side. He approached me, told me he was ex-military, a Ranger, then with Wolfpaw in Iraq. Witnessed the crimes our, uh, friends committed.”

  “You had him checked out, of course?”

  “Yeah, but so far he’s under the radar. Says he’s gotten off the grid on purpose, to fight
them. DiSanto’s tried every database on the planet, but no luck.”

  “Well, do you need a roadmap? He’s got to be one of them.”

  “Then why approach me? Why not put a bullet through me? Or stab me with a silver spear?”

  Heather shrugged. “He was at both crime scenes.”

  “Sure, and I’ve met with him.”

  “Nick!” Jessie’s eyes showed her sense of betrayal.

  “I just talked to him a little while ago.”

  “And you didn’t tell me?”

  “Jess, I didn’t tell you yet.”

  “You meet with a potential assassin and I have to hear it from her?”

  Heather couldn’t help but grin. This was classic.

  “Well, I just wanted to share my information. You guys can sort it out.” She told them where she was staying.

  “What are you going to do?” Lupo asked.

  “Follow the story.” She had some ideas.

  She stood and left and wished she could listen in to the argument that would surely erupt.

  Lupo

  He was driving, but aimlessly.

  Sometimes he felt the weight of history and destiny colliding and settling on his shoulders.

  And sometimes he felt that he was buffeted by events and people he couldn’t control.

  Like Heather Wilson.

  He wasn’t sure how he felt about her.

  He felt lust. He knew that.

  Who wouldn’t? The woman exuded sexuality. She transcended gender and the normal, avoiding convention even as she maneuvered those around her into doing her bidding.

  Heather and he had a history.

  Jessie wasn’t any too happy about that, which should have made things easier for him.

  But it didn’t.

  He combed his hair roughly with his hand, a mannerism picked up recently. A nervous, obsessive tic.

  Jesus Christ, Heather.

  Was there some destiny there? And how did he relate to it?

  No matter how much he tried to deny it, Heather shared a bond with him now, a bond Jessie did not.

  Heather was a werewolf.

  Werewolves had increased libido.

  He realized he was sweating. He rolled down his window and let in the cold fall air until his teeth chattered.