by Jan Stryvant
"This leads to the next point, Mr. Valens is a werelion. For those that don't know, werelions are held in special regard by most lycans, there are a number of legends and myths surrounding them, which due to their rarity, have only grown with time. But this also explains why the local lycan fellowship, which has to date remained completely out of our hair have suddenly decided to take a hand in this little revolt of theirs. Mr. Valens is obviously using his status as a lion to sway them into joining his little crusade."
"What about the rumors of a cure for silver?" Jones, one of the men from Boston asked.
"Yes, that leads to our third point. Mr. Valens is an enchanter."
Jerry heard several gasps and saw quite a few eyebrows go up.
"I thought lycans couldn't practice magic!" someone mumbled.
"While rare, apparently some can and do. Mr. Valens' father was a well-known and leading enchanter of great power. He was assassinated by the council of the Ascendants when it was believed he'd found a cure for the lycan affliction to silver. That led to the events described on the back of the page with Mr. Valens' picture. In short the Ascendants, because of their greed, triggered Mr. Valens' war on all of us.
"As for the cure," Jerry looked at the men in the room, "it exists in the form of an amulet and we have been led to believe that he's making more."
Several of the men at the table swore then.
"And that gentlemen, is why you're here. We can ill afford to allow this item to enter into any kind of mass production. We know he has them, we know he's making more. I'm sure you can imagine the impact of such a device, should it become widely known and produced."
"We'd be overrun with animals!" Jones grunted.
Jerry nodded, "Exactly. This leads to the next point, Mr. Valens' current location."
"You see, until recently, Valens has always been on the move, making him very hard to pin down. When he finally came to roost in a building downtown, we leaked the address to the Ascendants, who fresh with the outrage of the events of last week, did not hesitate to attack it.
"We know that they took casualties, both sides that is, and that Valens was forced out of the building. Since that time we've been keeping a close eye on the country records of property sales, and we have found once again, where Mr. Valens now is."
Jerry smiled, "Turn to page four, and you will see a map of the property." Jerry turned to Al Summers, "I believe Al has a plan for how to deal with this. Al?"
Jerry sat down as Al stood up and began to detail their plan for tonight's attack. With Valens having moved outside of the city, there was no longer any fear of a full-scale assault being discovered, and with the extra forces they'd just received, they were going to wipe that little shit stain out, once and for all.
Art looked around the room, his office. It wasn't much, but it was his and he'd had it for nearly ten years now, a sign of their trust in him. A trust that existed because Kurt's wife had used her own wiles to make sure her lover wasn't killed or put in a job with a short life span. Apparently Lady Sarah had gotten her hands on one of the collars that the Sorceress Guild uses, via her sister, who had run off to join them some years ago, rather than end up in an arranged marriage.
Sarah had liked her privileged position too much to give it up, and when her husband Kurt had turned out to be a tiresome bore and just couldn't do it for her between the sheets, well she decided to get to know that handsome young wolf that she'd already been sleeping with a bit better and let him give her children she could be proud of.
Art often wondered just what Kurt's kids would do if they found out they'd been sired by a lycan. Probably freak, but not until breathing a sigh of relief that they weren't descended from that loser.
Hogue came in then and took a look around, to make sure no one else was in the room.
"I just finished up with the last of them. We're all set to go. Jester and Dawn went out earlier and took care of the silver traps while no one was watching."
"You know something," Art said looking around, "I'm gonna miss this place."
Hogue snorted, "You're going to miss Lady Sarah."
Art chuckled, "Yeah, that too. But hey, she can always drive up to Reno and visit me."
"She does that, and I bet she never leaves, you should have heard her tearing Kurt a new one for sending Stewart out on a kill mission."
Art raised an eyebrow, "Really?"
"It was, as they say, epic. Sometimes I think he hates us so much because she always treats us well. If he ever finds out you've been cuckolding him, I don't think he'll survive it, probably have an aneurysm right on the spot."
Art grinned, picturing that scene in his head.
"You know, I honestly don't like the idea of us just leaving all of our gear behind. I feel kinda naked going out of here without it."
"Jace is worried that if we get stopped by any police, that it'll raise questions."
"Still, who wants to show up without their gear? Come on, you've got one of the keys to the armory. I say we grab our gear and take the chance. Worse comes to worse we all just turn into wolves and run off. Any cop who tells that story is gonna end up in the loony bin."
"I'm going to need to get the other key from Harris," Art said, considering it.
"If he's got Cenna up in his room tonight, we're gonna have to go up there anyway," Hogue pointed out.
"Tell you what, if Cenna's up there, we'll get the key when we get her and clean everything out, if she's not, we won't."
"Sounds good," Hogue nodded.
"And if I find out you arranged for her to be there, I will shave you bald in all three forms and dip you in hot sauce. Understood?" Art growled.
Hogue laughed and held up a hand. "On my honor!"
"You don't have any honor, Hogue."
"Course not, that's why I'm a team leader!"
Go!
Morgan watched as the last group rolled out the gates. They were going to head north up three-ninety-five and then cut across Lemmon Valley. With the National Guard base and all the warehouses in the area, Al said it would make it easier to hide their movements until they turned east to attack.
Morgan was impressed at how well his call for assistance had been heeded; of course his attack on the Ascendants had won him no small amount of praise and good will as well. Many of the leaders knew of his history with them and the reason for his grudge. Not that anyone in Vestibulum had anything but distaste for the Ascendants anyway. They were scum to be eliminated. Morgan disdained the current policy of non-engagement and longed for the old days, the ones his grandfather had told him of, when they were not afraid to fight with the other councils to bring them back into line.
"Just how many is that?" Travis, one of the younger men who had been tasked to stay back and guard the compound asked.
"Five hundred lycans, twenty-three of our best mages, plus the ten from out of town."
Travis shook his head, "It's gonna be a bloodbath."
"That's the idea," Morgan agreed, "Overwhelming force. They should have stayed in the city where it was safe, out there in the country? They don't stand a chance."
"Okay," Art said walking through the building, "Everyone out the back in ten minutes. Hogue, all your people there?"
"All accounted for.
"Jester?"
"All here."
"Piper?"
"Ready?"
"Dawn?"
"Good to go!"
"Yvette?"
Art heard a heavy sigh.
"Cenna's up in Harris's room. Again."
"Hogue!" Art growled.
"Hey, I didn't have anything to do with it!" Hogue said, hands raised.
Art snorted, "You better hope that's what I find out too. Okay, Hogue, you're with me. Jester, have your team and Hogue's meet me downstairs by the armory door in ten. Everyone, grab your gear. Looks like we're taking that too."
There was a chorus of 'yes sirs' as Art looked around the room.
"Well, I guess I better go check on the
watch and make sure they're asleep."
Going out the front door, Art walked the ten feet to the guard post. It's only real purpose was to check people in and out of the kennels. As the senior wolf, it wasn't uncommon for Art to be coming and going at all hours. Anyone else however would need a pass.
An hour ago Yvette had come in with a snack for the guards, as she usually did. Only tonight this one was spiked with a potent narcotic. By the time they woke up, everyone would be long gone.
Stepping into the guard booth, sure enough, both of them were asleep. Art checked the logs, and turned off one of the displays, just to be on the safe side.
Stepping out of the booth, Hogue was there waiting for him, and just like he had a thousand times before, Art walked across the courtyard and into the main building. Going up to the second floor, he walked down to the other end and stopping he looked around first to make sure no one was up and about this late at night.
Listening at the door, Art sighed, Harris was still awake.
Checking the door, he wasn't surprised to find it unlocked. The only reason there weren't any guards on this floor tonight was because Art had pulled them off ten minutes ago.
Opening the door as quietly as possibly, Art made a dash for the bed. Harris saw him, and his eyes got wide.
"Art! What's the mean...." Cenna stuffed a pillow in his face and Harris suddenly found himself reminded of the fact that even an eighteen-year-old female lycan was far stronger than a forty-something human male.
By the time Art got to the bed, Cenna had Harris pinned to the bed. Art got out a couple of the zip ties he carried and bound Harris's arms behind his back and his legs together, then gagged him as soon as Cenna removed the pillow.
As Cenna got off of Harris to dress, Art pulled the blankets up to preserve Harris's modesty and put a pillow under his head.
"Sorry about this Mr. Harris, but best I figure it; it's time that me and mine moved on. Oh, remember that time when we were all kids playing a game and you got really mad at that one wolf who kept winning, so you had him whipped?"
Art noticed Harris scowling, and then shaking his head.
"See, that's how little you think of us that you can have me whipped and not even remember it thirty years later. The only reason I stayed this long was to try and keep you all in check. Think about that Mr. Harris, while you wonder why I didn't slit your throat.
"Oh, one more thing, Matt shot Stan in the back of the head, and ran off someplace. Says a lot about your people, doesn't it?"
Grabbing the key ring off the desk, Art motioned to Cenna who was now dressed and followed her out of the room.
It took them ten minutes to clean out the armory with the help of Hogue's and Jester's teams. Five minutes after that they were joining the others on the second bus. Jace scowled at Art as he came on last.
"I thought I told you to leave the hardware behind?"
Art smiled and nodded, "Yeah, you did. Now, let's go."
Shaking his head Jace motioned to the driver, a wolf that Art didn't recognize, and closing the door they drove off, following the first bus.
"So tell me Jace, what's it like being free?"
"Damned if I know, I've spent the first few days of it springing everybody else's ass."
Terry sighed as he leaned back against the wall of the trailer. He'd been doing a lot of sitting in a lot of trailers. They'd been loaded up in the back of a tractor-trailer in Boston, then driven here with nothing more than a couple of breaks to dump out the honey pots they had in the back for latrines.
Now they were off to slaughter some poor bunch of bastards whose only crime was wanting what everyone else in this trailer wanted. To live their own lives.
Oh, Terry had been through all of the classes and taught all the same stuff as the rest of them, how they were happiest when they were serving, how the members of the Vestibulum took such good care of them, how they were valued and would be rewarded.
But Terry had noticed that anyone who disagreed in those classes disappeared, and never came back.
Oh, he suspected some of the others bought into all of the crap, mostly the ones who got all the rewards and were always there and ready for the pat on the head as they were told what a good job they'd done.
He'd seen the way some of the older ones acted too, around the masters, they were all yes sir, whatever you say sir, and thank you sir. But when they masters weren't around, they'd smack you upside the head and tell you to shut up if you ever once starting singing the master's praises.
Of course they'd also tell you to 'stow that shit' if they ever caught you saying or doing anything bad. But interestingly enough you wouldn't get smacked.
The ride was long and bumpy and Terry checked his armor for the tenth time and then checked Bryce who sat next to him on the one side, then Cary, who say on his left. He liked Cary, she was kind of cute. Though she had a tendency to think that the masters actually cared about her.
Then again, maybe they did, several of the masters didn't hide the fact that wolves who willingly graced their beds got better treatment. Terry's sister had gone that route, she was truly a beautiful woman, and never got sent out on missions, carried a weapon, wore armor, or ever did anything beyond simple household chores.
But considering the master she served, sometimes Terry wondered if she'd really gotten a better deal.
When the truck finally stopped and the doors opened, they all got up and filed out the back, hopping down onto the ground. They were in a desert; Terry had never been in a desert before. There were rocks and scrub everywhere, and there were a lot of hills.
It was also very dark and other than the noise from the other wolves, fairly quiet.
"Okay," Jones, their master said, "the target is two miles away, on the other side of that ridge. Stay in formation and nobody do anything until I give you the word.
"Yes, Sir!" they all responded and forming up, they followed their platoon leader. Jones wouldn't be walking, with all the armor and the helmet he was wearing; he'd never make it there. Instead he was riding on some sort of ATV. Terry had heard that it allowed the masters to arrive fresh so they could use their magic to help them.
Terry had also heard it allowed them to retreat faster than a wolf could run, if things went bad as they left you all behind to die.
Checking his armor again, Terry slung his rifle and started walking, following Bryce. Too bad their armor wouldn't fit over their hybrid forms. It was getting cold out and he'd rather be doing this in his fur.
Sean looked out of the helicopter as they circled off in the distance. He was with the same team he'd been with for the last attack, though they'd added a few new people to replace the ones that they'd lost.
The plan was fairly simple; they'd hit the Vestibulum hard and fast. The helicopters would be used to drop Sean and the others in behind the lines, once those lines had been established.
Intelligence on the Vestibulum had been slim, apparently they'd buttoned down on everything, and hadn't been letting any of their lycans go out anywhere for the last couple of weeks. In fact the only real intelligence they had was from the team that Sean and the others had captured last week.
Using that team however, they'd been able to draw detailed sketches of the entire compound, as well as all of the defenses and all of the hidden traps. The Vestibulum didn't use any kind of master 'kill' device to trigger all of their lycans, as they were too worried about such a thing falling into the hands of their enemies. Instead each platoon had an associated handler who had a unique kill command that only they knew, with a copy kept back in one of the offices in the compound's main building.
They'd also been warned that some of the lycans might not want to leave, apparently the Vestibulum spent a lot of time trying to indoctrinate their lycans into believing that being slaves was for their own good, and while most didn't believe it, some did. The Vestibulum's lycans were also told that they were better treated than any other council would ever treat them, something which wh
en you considered some of the other councils out there, really wasn't much of a lie.
Most of the troops tonight were armed with wands loaded with the usual non-lethal spells. They weren't out there to kill anyone after all. As the team they'd captured would be mixed in among the groups leading the attack, it was hoped that most could be convinced to simply lay down their arms and allow themselves to be taken prisoner and have their pellets neutralized.
While there were about two hundred and sixty or so lycans in the Vestibulum's compound, the twenty that Sean had captured knew nearly all of them.
As for those who didn't submit, Chad said that the three hundred lycans, plus the one hundred and some odd dwarves, should be more than enough weight to carry the day, since not all of the lycans in the compound were fighters.
Sean listened in on the radio as they engaged the defenses. Things started off as expected, the Vestibulum was using magical weapons fairly heavily with a light sprinkling of gunfire.
"Sean, take your guys and land on the roof of the main building, I need you to lay down suppressing fire against the mages," Chad called to him over the radio.
"What about the lycan forces?" Sean said looking out at the compound, the lights had come up, but he could only see a few people running around.
"There aren't any," Chad replied. "There's only a handful in the defenses, but there are way more mages out here then we expected. We obviously didn't catch them sleeping!"
"There's almost nobody in the courtyard," Sean said.
"What? Say that again?"
"The courtyard is empty!" Sean told him.
"Hold on, don't do anything!" Chad told him.
"Samis, are your people ready to blow the wall by the Kennels?" Sean heard Chad call over the comms.
"Aye, we're ready!"
"Blow 'em. Everyone else, blow your sections after Samis does, but do not advance! Do not advance!"
