by Jason Cheek
After making sure the soldiers were secure, he immediately began packing Startüm’s gear into a large backpack. Looking at the pile of stuff, Shadowfang shook his head silently. It was at times like these that he wished the boy traveled more like a True Werewolf. A small anvil, various specialty tools needed for repairing armor and inscribing runes went into the bottom of the bag first. Next, the three books of Ukko that Startüm was writing, along with the stash of fake ID’s and money in several different currencies. Lastly, he threw in a pair of steel toed hiking boots, before tying the backpack closed and dropping it in the center of the room.
Three strides brought him to the equipment hanging on the wall above the sofa. Quickly, he took down the two Katanas, tanto and suit of armor hanging on display. Dropping the equipment in the center of the room next to the backpack, he went in search for a duffel bag large enough to hold the rest of the gear.
He was proud of his grandson, Startüm. After his parent’s death, the boy had worked tirelessly preparing for their return to Irlendria. Like his parents, he chose to fight the Goddess Loviatar and her people, the Tuonellians.
Shadowfang had not made it easy on his grandson, because there wouldn’t be any second chances. The boy had to get it right the first time!
They had traversed the worst deserts and glaciers this planet had to offer. Living off the land, he taught his grandson how to survive in every extreme condition possible. When they moved between the various countries of the world, they always made their home in the poorest, most down trodden slums imaginable.
In these places, he had taught his grandson how to fight the evil they saw around them, while helping the destitute that lived in these Hell Holes. Though all of the horror they had encountered, the boy had always kept his purity of heart, conducting his actions with an honor that humbled Shadowfang at times.
Initially, he had doubted the wisdom of his daughter’s love for the Klavikian, Ilmarinen Ironwolf, but now after spending the last sixteen years raising his grandson. He knew she had chosen wisely. By the time the boy had turned fourteen, he could match the strength of an adult Werewolf. Now, at the age of twenty-four, his grandson was a true beast, even by Werewolf standards, and that didn’t include the abilities that Ukko had blessed him with.
Even though the decision had lead to his daughter’s death and that of her mates, he now believed as she did, that the boy would have the power to halt the growing tide of darkness taking over Irlendria. Many of the races blamed the coming together of Beasts and Klavikians for the growing darkness, but Shadowfang knew that the evil of Loviatar would have come one way or another.
Only now, they had a chance to fight. Although, that only would come to pass if Shadowfang and the Pack could keep Startüm alive long enough to claim his birthright.
Finding the empty duffel bag in the corner of the room, where one of the agents had discarded it as worthless. Quickly, Shadowfang began packing the armor and weapons. He would meet up with his grandson under the bridge, where Jupiter Road crossed over the Loxahatchee River, and then together they would make their way out of Florida cross country.
Hearing a muffled scream suddenly coming from the far wall, Shadowfang’s looked at the soldiers now awake as they watched him in horror. Striding to the wall, he towered over their bound forms. Using his long claws to push the soldiers back against the wall, he could smell the pungent odor of their fear.
Looking down at them, he let his hot breath blow into their terrified faces as he growled.
“Keep quiet, and no harm will befall you.”
Drawing his is black lips back from his mighty fangs, he explained their second choice.
“Make any noise, and I will rip your throats out.”
Seeing the men freeze in terror, he rose to his full ten feet, giving them one last menacing look, before returning to his packing. He smiled to himself, that should keep them silent long enough for him to gather up the gear they needed and leave.
Stopping suddenly, Shadowfang heard the sounds of screaming men and automatic weapons fire erupting from outside the building.
Looking around warily as the fighting grew more intense. He heard a faint scraping sound as a distinct scent came to him on the night’s breeze. Instantly, the windows to the second floor imploded! As the explosion of glass blew past him into the room, he turned around in time to see the familiar dark shapes of Scourge sprinting through the shattering glass.
Already in motion, Shadowfang slammed into the first wave of Scourge rushing at him. Striking with his massive fists, he crushed their gray heads like a wrecking ball with one hit.
A second later, the Scourge’s dead bodies blasted out of the building in a loud explosion of concrete, just as another two of the creatures pounced on top of him, slashing deep into his chest with their claws. Ignoring the wounds, he wrapped a massive hand around each of the creature’s throats, before ripping them off his chest.
Squeezing the life from their thrashing bodies, he threw his head back howling out his anguish into the night.
They had run out of time!
Feeling an evil presence suddenly behind him, Shadowfang turned around just as a massive barbed fist slammed into the center of his chest, blasting him through the wall behind him.
Chapter 9
Location Earth / Florida present day / Counter Terrorist Agency HQ:
“Explain to me, once again, Agent Foster. Why have you detained my Detective?”
“I’ve explained to you once already, Sir. We are investigating a terrorist threat affecting the National Security of the United States. Detective Kurwoski will be released as soon as we can fully understand the reason for her involvement with this terrorist group. I will interrogate her myself, Chief Darden.”
“I will say this one time only. I don’t give a shit about the investigation you are conducting. I have told you repeatedly. Detective Kurwoski was there under my direct orders investigating the death of a Mr. Delgado Delko, and his group of local muscle. That is, her only connection with this terrorist group.”
“I’m afraid you do not understand Chief Darden, I…”
Picking up the receiver, Chief Darden began yelling at the top of his lungs.
“Senator MacKay has already ordered you to release my Detective, Agent Foster!”
“I have already explained to the Senator. He is not part of Homeland Security’s command structure…”
Overriding Agent Foster, Riviera Police Chief Timothy Darden continued his verbal barrage.
“I will be there in two hours to pick-up my Detective. She will be leaving with me, even if I have to storm the building using the department’s APC units.”
The Chief paused, for a second to let his words to sink in.
“Have I made myself clear Agent Foster?”
“Chief Darden, if you will just let me explain…”
Cutting off the local Director of the Counter Terrorist Agency once again, Chief Darden switched tactics.
“What time is it now Agent Foster?”
“Twenty-thirty hours.”
“What time will I be there to pick up my Detective?”
“Twenty-two thirty hours.”
“Currently, I have units covering every exit from your Facility. They will be making sure that Detective Kurwoski does not leave before I arrive. Once again, have I made myself perfectly clear, Agent Foster?”
“Yes, Chief.”
“Now, pass me to Detective Kurwoski this second, so I can make her aware of this fact too!”
Transferring the call to his Head Computer Analysis, Cindy Ross, Agent Foster quickly brought her up to speed on the current situation. He gave her the go ahead to transfer the call to the Detective, so she could speak with the Chief before completing the transfer.
Hearing the screech of tires from the street outside his office, Agent Foster looked out of the window just as several Riviera Police units pulled to a stop in front of the CTA’s building, blocking the exits to Blue Heron Boulevard. Ch
ief Darden was making sure that one Agent Foster understood that he was not just making idle threats.
Holding his head, he tried to determine how best to control the situation. He had grossly breached interdepartmental protocol, when he had forcibly detained the Undercover Riviera Beach Detective. Now, he had miscalculated the response from the local city’s Police Chief. This was turning worse by the second!
Florida was far from Washington DC, and states below the Masson Dixon Line, unlike their Northern counterparts, still had no qualms about disregarding Federal Department directives. Especially, when it was obvious those directives were legally questionable. As long as the Florida Senator approved the Chief’s actions, Agent Foster had no doubt that the man would enforce his local jurisdiction.
He couldn’t even make a complaint through official channels, since he had overreached his authority, which the Chief clearly understood. Without solid evidence showing the Detective’s involvement, even the Director of Homeland Security would be reluctant to back him up on holding the Undercover Detective, with the Florida Senator breathing down her neck in Washington.
Dammit! If only the man would have listened to him, before condemning his actions. He might have understood why it was so vital to detain Detective Kurwoski! Never before had any covert agency managed to get one of their agents accepted into the cult’s advanced classes, it was if Startüm Ironwolf could always smell them out. Reviewing Detective Beth Kurwoski personnel records once again, he had to admit she seemed to be the preverbal no nonsense Cop. She had several commendations from the local Mayor, and even had one from the Governor for outstanding service above the call of duty. Although, reading in-between the lines, he could see she didn’t deal with departmental politics that well, but never less the woman obviously had the full backing of her Chief. Tossing her file onto his desk, he picked up the thick classified file on Startüm Ironwolf, along with his laptop, before heading to Interrogation Room number two.
He’d best use these two hours to get as much information out of the Detective as possible, while he had the opportunity. Nodding at the guard for him to open the door, Agent Foster stalked angrily into the Interrogation Room. Stopping in surprise, he checked out the Detective, while she finished her conversation with the Chief. She didn’t look like the hardened Police Officer her records made her out to be, not with those shapely curves, large green eyes and black shoulder length hair. Even though she wasn’t what he would have typically called beautiful, there was something about her that caught the eye. Seeing her hanging up the phone, he got down to business once again.
“Detective Kurwoski”
Frostily, she greeted him back. “Agent Foster.”
“Please sit down. I have a few questions I would like to ask you about Startüm Ironwolf, and the Ukko Healing Class you’ve been attending.”
“Let me explain something to you, Agent Foster. I will not answer any of your questions until I have my badge, my gun and my jacket returned to me first. Also, that door had better be unlocked, and those guards removed. Have I made myself clear enough?”
“Detective Kurwoski, you do not understand the seriousness of the issue at hand.”
At his words, the Detective sat down putting her feet on the table. Tipping her chair back, she crossed her arms as she watched him without saying a word. They stay like that almost a minute, before Agent Foster made up his mind, calling to the guard at the door.
“George?”
“Yes Sir?”
“Please bring the Detective’s gear, including her gun and her jacket.”
“Sir?”
“Detective Kurwoski is officially our guest. Once you’ve returned her equipment, please unlock the door, and return to your station.”
“Sir, yes Sir.”
It took another five minutes for George to come back with the Detective’s stuff. Handing over the items, he quickly left the room looking, back and forth, nervously between the Detective and his Boss.
Standing up, Detective Kurwoski flipped her police badge over her belt as she quickly slid the clip out of her automatic. Confirming the weapon was fully loaded, she slid the magazine back into place, before slipping the weapon into its holster and clipping it to her belt. Lastly, she put on her black leather jacket before folding her arms back across her chest.
“Would you like to try this once again?”
Sighing deeply, Agent Foster sat at the table beginning the discussion from square one.
“Detective Kurwoski, I would appreciate your assistance with a case we’ve been working on, which happens to coincide with the undercover investigation that you were assigned to by your Chief.”
Sitting down opposite of him, she returned his smile.
“Now Agent Foster, that wasn’t really so hard was it?”
Ignoring her sarcastic remark, he began his debriefing.
“Can you explain to me how you became involved with Mr. Ironwolf and his Advanced Healing Classes?”
“Approximately six months ago, a local gang leader, named Delgado Delko, turned up dead, along with all of his local talent, in his Cuban restaurant off of Broadway. We suspect, that Mr. Delko was in the process of taking over everything from Broward County to Jupiter Beach.”
“So, who took his place?”
“Well, that was the strange thing about the entire situation, which is how my department became involved. The next several violent gangs that tried to take over the area turned up missing. It seemed like as soon as they began putting the squeeze on the local business around Northlake and Old Dixie, they would suddenly just disappear.”
“I take it, that’s when you began taking notice of Mr. Ironwolf.”
“Exactly, we mounted an undercover operation, and I was sent in to get evidence.”
“Have you found any evidence linking Mr. Ironwolf to the killings?”
“None during my investigation, as far as I can tell Mr. Ironwolf is clean.”
“How did you get invited into the advanced courses for The Ukko Healing Method, if I might ask?”
“I was just invited last week. Actually, tonight was my first class. Why do you ask?”
“Well Detective. For the last seven years, we have been trying to get one of our agents into the inner circle of these Ukko Healing Classes, ever since we became aware of Mr. Ironwolf activities when he moved to Brazil. Since then, we’ve dug up lots of information, but not once has any covert agency managed to penetrate his inner circle, until now.”
Tossing a picture of a young boy on the table top, Agent Foster continued.
“Mr. Ironwolf developed the Ukko methodologies in India, when he was around nine years old. Two years later, he moved with his Grandfather to Japan, where he began studying kenjutsu along with aikido, gensei-ryue and jiu-jitsus. During this time, we believe, he perfected his teaching methodologies, for the Ukko Healing and Self Defense classes. After that, they disappeared for another two years, with scattered reports of his teachings showing up throughout the Middle East and Russia.”
With each country, Agent Foster began tossing out a corresponding picture. “Germany, France, Norway. Interpol has had the same reports as you, of violent gangs being wiped out wherever these Schools begin to appear. Not once, has any country’s law enforcement or intelligence agency succeeded in getting one of their agents further than the basic introductory classes. Nor, have they had success in duplicating the lessons of the advanced classes when they manage to get surveillance recordings of the teachings.”
Looking into her eyes once more, he continued without reading his notes.
“Detective, Mr. Ironwolf, as far as we know, speaks at least eight languages, and we suspect he might know several more. He is a black belt in at least fourteen martial art forms, and his teachings of Ukko, we estimate, will displace Islam as the second largest religion in the world, within the next five years.”
Pushing the open file in front of her, Agent Foster let her see the title of the folder, before showing her the last
set of pictures. Not waiting for her to finish flipping through the bloody crime scene photos, he continued with his briefing.
“With all of the information we have been able to uncover, we still do not know where Mr. Ironwolf and his Grandfather came from.” He ignored the questioning look she gave him. “We only know that they showed up in the Qinghai Province, in China, sixteen years ago on December twentieth. They supposedly arrived a month earlier through some sort of magic portal if the report, given by one surviving Chinese peasant, can be believed. After slaughtering the Chinese Army that massacred the small village where they were staying, Mr. Ironwolf and his Grandfather were forced to flee into India.”
Finished, Agent Foster sat back in his chair.
“Maybe now, Detective, you can understand why the CTA is so interested in debriefing you.”
Chapter 10
Location Earth / Florida present day / Counter Terrorist Agency HQ:
Looking up as the door open, I was surprised to see Angela following the officious looking suit entering the room as the armed guards standing in each corner suddenly snapped to attention. Coming to a stop in front of me, the suit nodded at the guards.
“Gentlemen, as you were.”
The guards eased back into a ready stance with their weapons held before them as the suit, and Angela took their seats across the table from where I sat. For a long moment, you could have heard a pin drop in the room as the three of us stared back at each other. Meeting Angela’s eyes, I nodded my head in greetings.
“Angela.”
“Actually, it’s Detective Kurwoski.”
I had to smile at her formal response.
“Detective, I’m glad to see you are unharmed. I expect the same can be said for Susan and the other ladies in our class.”
Hesitating for a moment she looked at the suit next to her before answering.
“Everyone is doing fine as far as I know.”
Giving her a nod of thanks, I turned my gaze to the man in the black suit.
