Werewolf Moon (The Pack Trilogy Book 1) (12 page)

Chapter Nineteen

Winds of Destruction

The meeting had ended on an up note for Cavello when the head of the board, a European woman, had made a brief phone call to her home town in Germany. The grin on her face after the call made her news that much more terrifying to Raya and Itchiko as they listened in growing disbelief and mounting dread.

The woman gleefully announced that Germany herself had made a massive break-through concerning weather control. The discovery stemmed from research during World War II, she said, during which Hitler had demanded his scientists formulate a way to cause storms to hit just prior to a bombing run on London. The storm would hide the incoming German bombers from any watching eyes until it was too late.

Once the old WWII papers had finally been made available to the public, it was a reporter who’d been the first to spot the old papers and realize what he’d found: the resulting story had exploded internationally, titled “Weather on Demand? Push Button Hurricanes!” The story had described the original research made by Hitler’s finest scientists, then projected possible outcomes of the research exactly as the scientists at the time had done. Both hurricanes and tornadoes would be possible after a bit more research and testing, the scientists had proclaimed at the end of the report. The reporter took it one step further he coined the phrase, ‘T.O.D.’ and that was what had completely swept the media.

German scientists had taken that original rough research and, by dint of recent discoveries in nano-technology, pushed the original plans forward in the very direction suggested by those long-ago scientists: the generation of tornados and other events such as hurricanes.

Now the research was as complete as possible whilst the testing facilities were still under construction. No one was aware of that, though: just that one could now create a tornado on demand as scientists had discovered not only how to seed clouds and induce storms, but were able to produce specific types of storms including hurricanes and tornados. Unfortunately the lead scientist had died weeks earlier, during a test of his own procedure when an enormous tree uprooted and smashed the shelter where he and other scientists were observing and noting the weather conditions.

Now the Germans could seed both clouds and the earth below them, causing the development of a tornado which would touch down on the seeded ground. They could even ‘dial in’ the desired strength as measured by the Fujita-Pearson Tornado Scale. F2? F3? A dreaded F5 ‘killer tornado’? The Cavello board decreed unanimously to use the F5 tornado, as by definition it lifts houses off foundations, automobile-sized objects fly one hundred meters plus through the air, and even trees are debarked.

A modified plane would quietly launch and ... “hang on to your ass with one hand and solid concrete with the other,” a Cavello board member advised. “Concrete is the only thing that mostly will survive an F5, and sometimes not even.”

Hearing that, Raya went white and even Itchiko lost color. What could they possibly do to combat a tornado that would destroy a city of millions?

Then Itchiko slowly grinned. “Got it. Remember? ‘Itchiko, why buy THIS?’ ‘Itchiko, all this money no one will ever use...’ ‘Not another of your damn toys, Itchiko!’” he quoted Raya as he led him to the weapons wing. Finally he unlocked a door and ushered the pack leader in. With a flourish he pointed at a nearby table. “Might not be so high tech anymore, but it will solve this problem.”

Raya stared in shock at four old Israeli surface to air missiles. They were mobile weapons meant to be held on the shoulder and fired at planes... and they always worked. Especially with Itchiko’s nearly-manic insistence on caring for all of the pack weapons, keeping each in working order. Now his painstaking care would pay off, Raya hoped. Or an entire city would literally be blown off the map.

Chapter Twenty

One Werewolf, How Many Humans?

Three days later all was in place. Raya insisted on being with Itchiko: both Weres would handle a missile and shoot at the same time. Now they were just behind a rise roughly a mile from the private Cavello airport, watching as an odd-looking jet taxied down the runway.

“Still not happy,” Raya muttered.

“Arm your weapon,” Itchiko snapped. In full military command mode, he no longer recognized Raya’s authority as Alpha and wouldn’t until the situation was resolved.

Raya was fully aware of this “weakness” in Itchiko: any other Alpha would have shunned the other wolf on learning of this.

Raya had spent most of his life in one army or another. He well knew the laser focus needed to command an army. No commander would take an order ‘from above’ during an actual operation, and Itchiko was no different. Many times over the centuries Raya had willingly taken second place to the brilliant Japanese wolf. He’d yet to regret that most unusual decision.

There was one major issue with this current operation: he had to at least mention it.

“Itchiko. There are Weres aboard that plane, at least two of them. I don’t know. Were against Were..” his voice trailed off as the aged book of rules appeared in his mind.

Itchiko stated flatly, “Two of ours against what, three million plus humans? Arm your SAM, Raya, and do it now.”

Raya’s entire body quivered in disgust, yet he flicked the arming toggle on his SAM and shouldered the weapon.

A distant whine came to his ears as the plane taxied faster and faster down the runway. Soon it was airborne. Itchiko would give the signal when to shoot.

That signal seemed to take forever, Raya thought as he tracked the plane with his SAM. The plane rose straight into the sky and headed north toward the city.

Just as the plane left land to cross the enormous Lake Pontchartrain, Itchiko snapped, “Hit it!”

Raya pulled the trigger and staggered backward from the force of the recoil as the weapon fired. He set the launcher down and covered his eyes, trying to track the missile’s flight. As they were looking almost directly into the sun, neither Were could make out the missile.

They certainly couldn’t mistake the enormous explosion that occurred seconds later, though. Raya felt nausea rise in his belly at the thought of the wolves on board, but knew Itchiko was right. Too many other lives would have been lost. The ancient ways were often right, but there were times when adjustments had to be made.

And these particular wolves—if wolves had to be killed, the head of Cavello wasn’t a bad place to start. It had been on his command that the plane had taken to the air with its death-dealing cloud seeding device.

The pilot, though... Raya’s stomach rolled. That Were had not perhaps known of the plane’s payload, therefore his death was collateral. For a Were to die a collateral death? All Raya could do was shake his head.

Later he’d learn that far more than two Weres were aboard that plane as the entire upper echelon of Cavello’s board had insisted on going, as if it were an adventure outing to see the results of the seeding. To Raya, that was yet more sick-making than a collateral death. Those Weres deserved what they got and far, far more.

Cavello would need new board members, that was a certainty.

And the corporation would have a hard time finding worse members than those Raya had just disposed of: that also was a certainty.

He picked up his SAM, wrapped the old blanket around it again, and strode off down the hill behind Itchiko.

That was one exercise he hoped never to repeat.

Chapter Twenty-one

They Started It, We Will End It

Living like the dead can lead to living like the living.

—Unknown

Later that day, Petra, Charissa and Chizuko arrived at the Fiero & Sons Mortuary in Ripero. Dressed in deepest mourning black, the three women entered to discuss the upcoming funeral of Petra’s beloved sister. The three women were genuinely distraught, in tears and asked so many questions that the entire mortuary staff had to leap to attention to take care of these obviously-wealthy patrons.

Meanwhile, Itchiko surreptitiously picked the lock of the mortuary’s back door. He, Raya, a recovered Jean-Paul and Andre entered the place to find themselves in a large room where coffins were in various stages of construction.

Couldn’t be here, Raya knew as he looked for other doors. One directly across from where they’d entered had to lead to the main facility. No good. An older door to the right looked promising.

And well it should, Raya discovered as the pack members filed into a smaller storage room where the plain wood coffin liners were stacked. When Raya flicked on the light, only a naked bulb hanging down from the center of the room came to life. The pile of coffins were mostly dark.

What to do now? He looked at Itchiko and raised his shoulders. The Japanese Were returned his gaze with a deliberate wink as he pulled a familiar small object from his pocket.

Raya’s brows lowered in confusion. Itchiko was a superstitious old soldier, like so many were. He’d carried this one object through three centuries of warfare, he’d told Raya before. Evidently it had worked as Itchiko was still around to tell the tale.

It certainly looked innocuous enough to Raya: a short wooden tube with six holes, obviously hand-carved. But Itchiko swore by the thing, and his operations never failed.

Now the warrior wolf rotated the tube for a moment, smiling down at it. Then he brought it to his lips and blew lightly into one end.

A high, thin whistle sounded, then the melody to an ancient Moldavian folk song. After only one verse, the whistle disappeared back into Itchiko’s pocket.

It worked, Raya noted with astonishment as first one coffin lid swung open and then another. Three bedraggled heads peeked out, caught sight of Raya. All three Weres then exited their coffins and shifted until two large wolves and a smaller female faced Raya and Itchiko. All of the wolves bowed their heads and went to their bellies.

“Pack Iwabari begs mercy and succor of pack Lupeinescu,” the wolves simultaneously sent to Raya.

“Pack Lupeinescu is grateful for your request and grants it,” Raya said out loud. “Now, let’s get out of here before my Alpha bitch drives the entire staff mad.”

Heureuse was still locked down in war mode as Petra and the rescued Weres arrived. The new Weres were exhaustively searched before being permitted to enter the compound, and Petra found herself having to explain the meaning behind that and the military appearance of her beloved mansion.

She was puzzled when the leader of the small pack, Iwabari, demanded to see whoever was in charge of the military operation. She sent for Itchiko all the same.

A tall, thin Japanese with odd tattoos on his face, Iwabari had quite the reaction when Itchiko walked in: he shifted at once, fell to his belly and bowed his head. “Iwabari acknowledges the presence of a Samurai warrior 10th degree.”

Itchiko’s turn to be astounded: hardly anyone outside the tightly-closed ranks of the Samurai warriors themselves knew of the Samurai ranking system. How was this Were so knowledgeable of Samurai ways? And how was it possible he knew such things about Itchiko himself? Itchiko immediately posed that question, every muscle ready to leap, every heightened sense ready to use hidden weapons to repulse that Were.

The answer and brief conversation that followed surprised Itchiko to the extent that he dropped the last two weapons he’d just retrieved from hiding spots on his body as he approached the Were, staring into the man’s face. “What did Yutaka do every Friday evening?” Itchiko demanded. Yutaka has been Itchiko’s last master before he’d left Japan, and Iwabari claimed that he’d been Samurai under Yutaka after Itchiko’s departure. What were the odds? Slim to none, but it wouldn’t be difficult for Itchiko to discover the truth.

The Were stifled a grin. “Played Piquet with a group of old friends.”

“Do you recognize the name Fujiko?” Itchiko whipped out instantly.

“Yutaka’s first wife, and a terrible bitch she was, too.”

“What did she do to Yutaka that he could never forgive?”

“Cut the nuts off his favorite French hunting dog and tied them onto a pig’s head he’d taken in France and had mounted in the living room. They looked like shriveled black earrings.” He shuddered, as did every male within hearing distance.

Itchiko relaxed. “I don’t know how such a thing could be, but I bid you welcome and offer you and Pack Iwabari the hospitality of Pack Lupeinescu,” he said, to Raya’s total shock now. He gave the Alpha a brief look, a briefer head shake so that Raya wouldn’t speak. It was of the utmost importance for them both to hear what Iwabari had to say.

It seemed they hadn’t just had a Were inside the enemy’s compound: they’d had a Samurai Were, one whose rank was even higher than Itchiko’s own. That made all the difference in the world, for Samurais at that level had powers that even Weres did not possess: physical powers that were never spoken of as well as finely-honed powers of observation, and the ability to put together seemingly-unrelated facts and draw a sound conclusion.

Chapter Twenty-two