The Lure of the Pack (4 page)

“FUCK! IT’S OVER THERE, FIIIIIIIIIIIIIRE!” Further hot lead
scythed through the air, the forest becoming alive again with the ear splitting
cracks of gunfire. “KILL IT! FOR FUCK’S SAKE, KILL IT!”

The wolf stayed low as the bullets passed by, its tongue
dripping blood, human blood, its claws and fur, covered in dirt…and flesh. This
is too easy thought the wolf, its sleek, powerful body manoeuvring to the rear
of the enemy, stalking them, watching them, enjoying their panic…their fear!

Time to take another!

From within its deep red field of vision, the wolf scanned
its panicking prey.

 Another terrified guard quickly turned to his left, towards
the sound of growling speeding towards him. Then he screamed, his voice cut
short as the wolf’s jaws clamped across his throat. He was dead in seconds. The
others fired, trying to kill the wild animal slaughtering them one by one, but
the wolf seemingly vanished again, its speed incessant, ghost like, its
powerful lupine form blending with the dark imagery of the forest. Hopelessly,
one of the guards dropped to his knees, vomited fitfully then whispered, “we’re
all finished!”

“All he can smell is their blood! As of this moment Red Haze
is uncontrollable.” Jeanette Descard felt slightly nauseated as she viewed the
disturbing satellite images, “he will continue to kill until every last one of
them is dead!”

“I agree,” Maurice Hertschell voiced his opinions. “We have
no communication with him, no way of contact and no way of defusing him.”
CEATA’s Commander in Chief glanced nervously at Charles Mann, “I have been
proven correct in my assumptions Charles. My worst fear regarding our newly
acquired field agent has become a reality. Red Haze is now uncontrollable.”

“But he is a supremely lethal weapon Maurice,” Colonel
Mann’s eyes were wild with excitement, “you have to admit it!” The Colonel
paused, his gaze once again totally focused on the hunting wolf. “Lethal
symmetry,” he whispered, “that’s what Red Haze has! Such incredible,
powerful…lethal symmetry!”

Within the bloody, tumultuous chaos consuming the prey, the
beast once again fell upon them, the guard firing his MP44, the wolf moving
with precision, its jaws biting down, hideously clamping onto human flesh, its
muscular, fur-laden body like an image from hell itself. The guard screamed
pitifully, painfully, dropping his assault rifle onto the forest floor, its
mechanism jamming as it continued to fire. The wolf bit deep as the prey’s blood
gushed into the cold night air.

There was another scream, over to the right as his
companion, hit in the leg by a stray round, crumpled to the ground. “OH SHIT,”
he yelled, clutching his damaged, bloodied leg as he viewed the horror in front
of him. The wolf snarled, spitting pieces of flesh from its mouth, its blood
red eyes focusing on the wounded guard before it swiftly returned to the
forest.

The burly man ran over to the injured, screaming guard as
blood quickly seeped from the large bullet wound in his leg. “IT’S MY ARTERY! I
CAN’T STOP THE BLEEDING,” he yelled. Without hesitation the burly man aimed his
MP44 at the man’s head…and fired!

“WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE? YOU PIECE OF SHIT,” screamed
another guard as he ran forwards, knocking the burly man to the ground. Rolling
in the dirt they frenziedly punched at each other, gripping hair, biting,
scratching, the look on both men’s faces that of terror and confusion.

Good, thought the wolf, now they fight amongst themselves!

“HE WAS MY FRIEND!” The punches were hard, bruising jaws and
shattering teeth. The burly man wrestled the other onto his back then pulled
out his razor sharp hunting knife. Without hesitation he held it to his
opponent’s throat. The two men ceased fighting, both panting heavily.

“Listen to me,” said the burly man, “he was dead anyway!
This is a fight to the death, AND RIGHT NOW WE’RE FUCKING WELL LOSING!” He
paused for breath, mentally fighting for calm as he continued to speak, “he was
weakened, that’s what that thing wants, to weaken us…”

“Listen,” another guard spoke, his voice rising in
desperation, “LISTEN!”

The two battered, bruised men picked themselves up off the
ground and shivered in the cold night air. There were only nine of them left!

Then came the howling! Like ghostly music, scything across
the forest, rising and falling in pitch, monotone and surreal.

“It’s toying with us! It knows we’re dead meat!” Still
panting heavily, the burly man looked around at the last vestiges of his team.
“We retreat carefully back to the facility. Watch each other’s backs. If you
see the damned thing, yell and shoot.”

“But our bullets don’t fucking harm it!”

“It’s all we’ve damned well got, now get moving.” They moved
stealthily, on full alert, watching, waiting for the beast to attack again. But
the howling continued, the wolf now waging psychological warfare as well as
physical. Yes, it was toying with them thought the burly man, not just with
their bodies but also with their minds.

Then…the howling ceased.

“Nine of them left,” whispered Nick.

“Out of a total of twenty four,” replied Jean-Paul.

“Colonel,” Jeanette Descard spoke urgently, “it’s time we
brought the retrieval team in and quickly!” There was no reply from Colonel
Mann who hadn’t taken his eyes from the screen. Was he enjoying this thought
Jeanette, this horrific bloodshed, this wholesale slaughter? “Colonel,” she
spoke again, “the retrieval team, its time to bring Red Haze out of the combat
zone. The survivors are no match for him. You know that!”

Charles Mann turned his head slowly towards Jeanette. “No
Doctor Descard, this is not the time to retrieve Red Haze.”

“I agree with the Colonel,” the Commander interrupted, “we
let Red Haze finish the hunt!”

The eighteen-year-old guard sobbed, his thoughts dolefully
returning to memories of his childhood, and to his mother telling him never to
forget the Lord’s Prayer. “When you need help,” she had said, “always say this
prayer and the good Lord will protect you.”  As his body shook pitifully in
fear, the boy’s hands came together as if wishing himself away from the
nightmare engulfing them all. “Our Father, who art in heaven” he whimpered,
“hallowed be thy name…”

“HERE IT COMES,” yelled the burly man, “PREPARE TO FIRE!”

“Thy kingdom come, thine will be done…”

“FIIIIIIIIIIIIRE!” The wolf leapt, dodging the flying
tracer, biting savagely into another man’s skull, ripping away bone and tissue.
More screams, more panic, more blood!

“On earth as it is in heaven…” the wolf’s hideous, growling,
blood drenched form sped past the terrified boy. Another guard fell, ripped
limb from limb, his screams tormenting everyone around him. “Give us this day,
our daily bread…”

“USE YOUR FUCKING KNIVES! STICK IT, STICK IT!” The beast
attacked again and again, the men lunging with their knives, their faces
bloodied, their eyes wide with terror!

“Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass
against us…”

“HEEEEEEEEEEEELP” The guards fell in pools of blood, the
wolf ripping them to pieces, like lambs to the slaughter.

“Lead us not into temptation,” the boy, now curled up like a
foetus, closed his eyes, “but deliver us from evil,” he sobbed.

“COME ON THEN YOU BASTARD, TAKE ME! TAKE ME!” The burly man
stood facing the wolf, now standing on its hind legs, its tail vertical,
dominant, its tongue hanging loosely from its gore ridden jaws. Despairingly
the burly man looked around, noticing his men were all dead, all except the
cowering, urine soaked whimpering young lad! “YES, YOU’VE SAVED ME UNTIL THE
LAST, HAVEN’T YOU?” His knife was ready! He was ready…for the final fight! “YOU
FILTHY, MANGY PIECE OF SHIT!”

“For thine is the kingdom…”

The wolf snarled at its enemy, its blood red eyes glowing
deep with savage intensity. YOU, it thought, you would lead them to me, to
capture me!

“WELL! WHAT ARE YOU FUCKING WAITING FOR? C’MON! C’MON!”

With unnatural, malevolent fury the beast roared hate, the
skin around its powerful jaws peeling back showing its flesh ridden, blood
stained canine teeth. The burly guard froze in terror as the animal slowly walked
towards him, its claws ready to rip, tear and eviscerate.

“The power, and the glory…”

The burly man lunged at the wolf, slicing into its neck as
the beast struck out, slashing a claw across his face, dislocating his jaw.
Screaming in agony, falling to the ground like a rag doll, he began crawling
backwards as the wolf prepared for the kill.

“For ever and ever…”

The burly man couldn’t scream any more. Fitfully, he turned
onto his stomach, panting heavily, gasping for breath as he started to crawl,
somewhere, anywhere, just to get away from the nightmare behind him. Still
walking upright, the wolf drew closer, its heavy snorting breath harsh to the
man’s ears as its shadow crossed over his body. Then he felt it, the large,
clawed hand gripping the back of his neck, and the ground, swiftly jolting
away. The beast’s grip tightened, its red eyes scanning its prey, then, as the
burly man’s bowels emptied the wolf roared defiance into his face, its razor
sharp canines just inches away.

The beast bit hard, ripping open the prey’s face, shattering
his skull, the burly man’s blood flowing onto the ground as his writhing,
twitching body fell limp. As if sensing overwhelming victory, the wolf’s grip
tightened around the butchered corpse as it howled into the ghostly night sky.
Then, with a hideous, dreadful roar, the wolf threw its enemy’s broken, blood
soaked form into the surrounding, darkened treeline.

“Amen.” The boy continued to whimper as the forest fell
silent. There were no more screams, no more roars, no more howls. He kept his
eyes tightly shut, his urine soaked, stinking figure still curled like a
foetus, not daring to look at the nightmarish creature walking slowly towards
him.

“NO ASH, DON’T KILL HIM, YOU’VE DONE ENOUGH, LEAVE HIM
ALONE!” Nick Lucas was nauseated, his feelings on fire. Never, in all his life
had he witnessed anything so brutally horrific.

“CALM DOWN NICK,” shouted Colonel Mann, “remember what we’ve
told you! This isn’t the Ash you know, it’s a werewolf, an intelligent creature
fighting for its own survival.”

“Colonel,” Jeanette Descard interrupted, “he’s hazing again,
look…LOOK!” CEATA’s Senior Command team all gazed in amazement at the
satellite-transmitted images in front of them. “He’s in control,” whispered the
Colonel, looking quickly at Commander Hertschell, “Maurice…he’s in control!”

CEATA’s Commander in Chief nodded his head in acceptance of
the Colonel’s observation. “Send the retrieval team in,” he said quietly.

The whimpering, pathetic, fear-filled youngster lay
motionless, curled up on the blood-drenched ground. “Please Lord, I don’t want
to die, please…” he whispered, then he screamed, “PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE!”

“You’re not going to die!” The voice was deep and powerful,
a man’s voice. The young lad opened his tear stained eyes. There, in front of
him, stood a naked man with blood red eyes, his body, gore soaked. The lad
rolled over and vomited. “What are you?” he whimpered, shaking uncontrollably.

“Never mind what I am,” replied the naked man, “you’re
coming with me.” The boy is terrified out of his wits thought Piper, but he’ll
come out of it back at SHAPE Headquarters, where we can question him. Slowly,
deliberately, Piper looked around the forest and at the carnage he had caused.

Within twenty minutes the retrieval team arrived in the
shape of a Belgian Air Force Sea King Helicopter. “Tango One Zero, we have
contact! Initiating retrieval, over.” As the branches from the nearby trees
swayed from the down draught of the rotors, the pilot of the Sea King glanced
back at his colleague, the winch man. He gave a thumb’s up sign then thought
back to the Level One Security briefing they had both received before the
mission. The contact may possibly be naked at the time of retrieval, they had
been told. Do not ask questions; don’t say anything!

“This is Tango One Zero,” the pilot continued his report,
“be advised, we have two for retrieval. I repeat, two for retrieval, do you
copy, over?”

“Affirmative Tango One Zero, see you back at base, over and
out!”

And at the same time, in the CEATA Communications Room, a
young Canadian by the name of Nick Lucas pulled off his thick-rimmed glasses
and wiped a tear from his right eye. “Thanks Ash,” he whispered, “thanks.”

2

CHAOS THEORY

In a fit of seething rage, Otto Von Kurst slammed his fist
on the desk of the New Totenkopf’s Operations Centre, the look on his face like
thunder. “All dead,” he asked, “all, except one?”

“Yes, my Fuhrer,” Claude Bescann’s heart was racing. He had
seen the look in his leader’s eyes before. It was a look of sheer, venomous
hatred! Slowly, still enveloped in anger, Von Kurst sat back in his leather
swivel chair, his thoughts racing as he gazed at two grenadiers monitoring
various news channels. “I presume the authorities have him, he was the
youngest, only eighteen,” Bescann continued, his voice shaky.

“SHIT!” Again Von Kurst’s fist slammed onto his desk, “your
men are supposed to be disciplined Bescann, well trained, so why did the idiots
not follow your orders?”

“I am not sure,” Bescann bowed his head, “my Fuhrer.”

“This pathetic attempt at playing soldiers has cost us dear.
How much did the captured security guard know of our operations?”

“Very little! After taking the Blood Oath he was trained at
The Farmhouse by Falck and Kempler. As always, he had no contact with myself,
the training was basic. He was then put on guard duty at the warehouse
facility.”

“And his knowledge of the shipments?”

“None, he had no knowledge of the crates’ contents.”

“Well, at least that’s something, but the fact of this
matter is an intruder has uncovered our weapon storage facility!” Claude
Bescann did not reply, he just stood rigidly to attention, quiet, possibly
ashamed, his face pale, anxious as he listened carefully to his leader.
“Wilhelm must inform Vitali to suspend shipments at once.” Von Kurst picked up
the internal telephone, “Wilhelm, I require your presence immediately.” He
replaced the handset, “what are your thoughts on this infiltration Bescann?”

“As far as I am concerned, this has resulted from the
actions of the informer in Amsterdam. Obviously the shit passed on a certain
amount of important information before he was liquidated.”

“Yes, go on!”

“This is definitely the work of a highly specialised unit.”

“A mixture of German Intelligence and GSG9?”

“No, no…I don’t think so my Fuhrer. Remember, our facility
has been infiltrated by just one man. This has been well thought out, well
planned, well executed and of course…” Bescann hesitated, as if willing his
Fuhrer to answer his own thoughts, which he did!

“He knew of the infra-red security system?” Slowly, in a
concentrated rhythm, Von Kurst started to tap the fingers of his right hand on
the desk.

“Precisely, my Fuhrer.”

“Satellites,” whispered Von Kurst, the tapping fingers now
clenching into a fist, “the intruder utilised satellite technology to break
in!”

“My thoughts entirely. Even as we speak, the enemy, whoever
they are, will now be constantly monitoring our activities at Building Four.”

Von Kurst’s gaze sent a shiver down Bescann’s spine, “then
we must find out who our enemy is, and quickly!” There was a knock at the door
and Wilhelm Oratz entered. “Ah, Wilhelm, I need to talk to you…Bescann,” Von
Kurst glowered at his Standartenfuhrer, his eyes penetrating, powerful, “we
will speak later.”

Claude Bescann bowed his head and clicked his heels together
in salute, “of course my Fuhrer,” then left the room. Wilhelm Oratz stood in
front of the large desk, a look of unbridled curiosity sat smugly on his gaunt
face.

“We have been infiltrated Wilhelm,” said Von Kurst.

“WHAT!” Oratz was openly shocked, “where…how?”

“The warehouse facility, twenty three of our security guards
are dead.”

“DEAD?”

“One of them has been captured and is now with the
authorities, or so we presume.”

“So what of Project Amen?” Like his Fuhrer, Oratz was now
deeply concerned.

“We still go ahead as planned, but as of now, Vitali must
suspend the arms shipments.”

“Of course! I will contact him immediately, but tell me
something my Fuhrer.”

“Yes, Wilhelm.”

“How did twenty three of our men die, was it a Special Ops
raid?”

Von Kurst sat back and laughed aloud, “no, no my dear
friend, it was not a Special Ops raid.”

Oratz was not amused at his close friend’s response to his
very serious question, “then how?” he asked.

Von Kurst’s laughter ceased, his tone of voice lowering to a
growl, “a lone wolf…took them all.”

“We were given your clothing sizes, I hope everything fits.”
The winch man spoke through his internal headset to a now fully clothed and
helmeted Ash Piper.

“Everything is fine, thank you.”

“He looks in a bad way,” said the winch man, nodding his
head towards the young man now covered in several blankets, his eyes vacant,
his body still trembling.

“He is,” replied Piper, slowly yawning. It felt like he
hadn’t slept for a week! Languidly, Piper laid his helmeted head back against
the Sea King’s vibrating metal frame, his mind returning to the forest and the
slaughter. Then sleep took him.

“YOU TWO!” Von Kurst shouted at the grenadiers monitoring
the news channels, “take a break…twenty minutes.” The two men gratefully
accepted the chance of coffee and a cigarette and quickly exited the room.

“You mean there is another of the Were?” Wilhelm Oratz could
not believe what he had just been told.

“Precisely,” Von Kurst looked both angry and tired, “and he
fights against us!”

“How do you know?”

“I have sensed him for some time…strangely enough, just
before the Americans and British invaded Iraq.”

“Then he is a major threat to our plans,” Oratz whispered.

“Yes Wilhelm, he is a threat. Never the less, we still
continue as planned.”

Oratz looked quizzically into his Fuhrer’s eyes, “what else
is on your mind Otto?”

“What do you mean?”

“I have known you for too long my friend, there is something
troubling you. Is it Helga?”

Von Kurst nodded, his rugged face suddenly looking deeply
troubled, “yes.”

“I know she is unwell.”

“Lana has sedated her.”

“SEDATED HER!” Oratz could not hide his annoyance, “WHY HAS
THAT BITCH SEDATED HER?”

“ON MY INSTRUCTIONS WILHELM, MY INSTRUCTIONS!” Tempers were
flaring.

Oratz took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm.
“My apologies Otto, I did not realise she was so sick, so what is the matter
with her?”

Von Kurst hesitated then spoke quietly, “Helga is of the
Were, Wilhelm.”

Oratz slowly took a deep intake of breath and shook his head
in disbelief. “This just gets better and better,” he muttered.

Von Kurst continued, “it is a long story my friend, long and
complicated, however, I do not have time to go through this with you at
present.” There was no comment from Oratz. “I am worried, Helga’s mind and body
are developing too quickly, the wolf DNA is interfering with her cell structure
far too aggressively.” Von Kurst sighed, a look of fearful concern scything its
way across his furrowed brow, “I fear she will not be able to deal with this
change Wilhelm, the wolf will be too much for her to cope with. My friend,” Von
Kurst gazed straight into his close friend’s eyes, “I fear for Helga’s sanity!”

“I see,” said Oratz, his voice now barely a whisper, his
thoughts in turmoil.

“That is why I have asked Lana to take care of her, while
she is sedated.”

Oratz looked puzzled, “but Otto, Lana hates Helga, surely
you know that?”

“Of course I know that, but I am far too busy overseeing
Project Amen to be with her all the time. Lana knows I wish this of her, I
trust her.” Oratz fell silent again.

“Nevertheless,” said Von Kurst, “you have to contact Vitali,
urgently. Explain the current situation to him, but you must assure him our
plans will still go ahead…on schedule!”

“Of course my Fuhrer,” Oratz nodded, quickly bringing his
thoughts back to the job at hand and to his forthcoming visit to St Petersburg.
“I will make sure this matter is quickly taken care of.” Briskly, Oratz rose
from his chair and walked towards the door. As he did so, he turned back and
faced Von Kurst, “Otto,” he said.

“Yes Wilhelm.”

“Be truthful with me, are you starting to have feelings for
Helga again?”

“At this moment in time my dear friend, that is none of your
concern.”

“I understand,” Oratz bowed his head, “my Fuhrer.” As
Wilhelm Oratz exited the New Totenkopf’s Operations Centre a rare, sly grin
crept across his face. Spitefully, he thought of Helga Zeist, lying in a deep
sleep with Were DNA coursing through her veins and of Lana Franke, the one
woman whom he hated most in the world. That wretched bitch must be very
concerned he thought, not for her new patient, but for herself! Without
hesitation, Wilhelm Oratz’s grin quickly became a very wide smile.

It was a gentle voice…the woman’s, not threatening…just gentle.
The naked man looked around at the white mist enveloping him. “Why do you hunt
him?” the woman asked.

“I have to,” replied Piper, “he is a threat, to peace and
stability.”

“No, lone wolf, you…are the threat!”

Ash Piper looked around but there was nothing to see, only
the mist, slowly swirling, weaving its way ethereally around him. Piper was
cold. He wrapped his arms around his nakedness and shivered.

The woman’s soft voice spoke again, “why do you not join us,
it is for the best.”

“I cannot,” he whispered.

“And why is that, lone wolf?”

“Why should I answer you, you hide yourself, you are just a
voice in my head!” Again, silence! Just the mist, the cold white mist, swirling
around him.

“I do not want you to fight him, it is pointless,” said the
woman’s voice, “please, for your own sake and ours…join us.”

“YOURS IS A WORLD OF CHAOS!” Piper yelled, the cold numbing
his bones, chilling his senses.

“Yes, our world is chaotic lone wolf, but all life revolves
around chaos.” Piper bowed his head, shivered again and waited. He would not
speak any further until the woman showed herself. “You are of our kind,” she
continued, “and our kind live in a realm free from the boundaries of human
form…surely, you must acknowledge this?” Piper knew she was right. “Yes, you
know I speak the truth, don’t you…lone wolf?”

Get out of my head he thought, the mist continuing to whirl
around him, still enveloping his nakedness in an icy chill. He felt vulnerable,
alone. “Lone wolf…” the woman’s voice paused, “you must join us, you are a part
of our life cycle. Your blood…is our blood. We will care for you, as we care
for all our kind.”

“NO!” Piper yelled, “YOUR KIND KILL FOR PLEASURE, YOU HUNT
FOR PLEASURE, IT IS WRONG, IT IS EVIL!” Piper’s skin seemed to crawl from the
intense cold, his arms still wrapped around his naked form. The woman’s voice
ceased. He looked around…there was nothing, just the mist. Then he heard the
howling, echoing all around him, not just a single wolf, no, perhaps…another!

Steadily, the white mist began to part. Piper was afraid,
genuinely afraid. There was a crack of thunder, but no lightning. Slowly,
inexplicably, the mist revealed a bleak, dark forest. Piper shivered again, the
numbness of the cold travelling mercilessly through his body, his skin prickling
with what seemed a million icy needles. Suddenly Piper gasped and stood still,
as if frozen in terror. There, in the middle of the blackness, stood two
wolves, overly large and strangely magnificent.

The howling had ceased.

Cautiously, Piper began to walk towards them, why, he did
not know, for he was terrified and yet…he felt like he was being drawn to the
wolves, like a nail to a magnet. With their thickly furred tails quickly rising
to the vertical, the two magnificent wolves gazed at Piper, their wide eyes
blood red, their hackles raised in anger. They growled, their snouts peeling
back, their razor sharp canines ready to bite, to tear, to rip. Piper stopped,
his heartbeat racing, his head thumping.  The forest was dark, eerie,
surrounding him…as if in a mantle of chaos.

The woman spoke again, “remember lone one, wherever you go,
wherever you hunt, we will be watching you.”

As Piper looked on, the two wolves began to run towards him,
their jaws slavering, gaping, ready to attack. Panic stricken, Piper quickly
turned away, ready to run, but the blackness of the forest surrounded him,
immersing him in fear.

There was no way out!

The woman spoke again, this time her tone more menacing,
“you will join us…lone wolf!”

“NO,” yelled Piper, “NEVER!”

The woman’s voice screamed into his mind, “THEN YOU WILL
DIE!”

Piper screamed in terror as the two large wolves fell upon
him, leaping at his nakedness, tearing at his flesh! “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

“I made coffee and sandwiches, I hope you’re hungry.” With a
seemingly pleasant smile on her face, Lana Franke sat on the luxurious cream
coloured leather sofa as the open fire blazed welcomingly.

“Thank you Lana, yes I am hungry.” Otto Von Kurst sat down
beside his beautiful mistress and stared into the flames, his gaze transfixed,
his face sullen, his thoughts entwined with the dancing orange shafts of heat.
The sheepskin rug was long gone! Too many memories he thought, far too many!

Lana slowly poured coffee and handed him a cup of the hot,
steaming liquid. “A penny for them,” she whispered.

“What?” Von Kurst swiftly awoke from his seemingly trance
like state.

“Your thoughts Otto, a penny for your thoughts, isn’t that
how the old saying goes?” He smiled. “How is Helga?” he asked, softly.

“She is asleep, but I have to say,” Lana paused, then
sighed, a look of quiet concern lying embedded in her eyes, “I will have to
keep her sedated for some time, possibly for the duration of her visit here.”