Abandoned Treasure

Nathan Storm’s POV

Idaho Cabin

Thursday, April 18, 2019

One thing about those new Alphas? They weren’t boring.

After the Cascade and Arrowhead Packs repelled the attacks, four hard-line Packs needed new Alphas. Under the rules of combat, Alphas Carson and Rori could either take the losing Packs into their own or appoint their selections to the spot. The Oracle message board was busy as each bit of news got posted, and our people reacted.

I knew of some of the new Alphas that got announced. They were solid selections, and others agreed. Denali was still up in the air, though the dead Alpha’s teenage son was on his way to Arrowhead to claim his birthright. Everything I’d heard about him was positive; he was nothing like his father. Some people who had fled those Packs were thinking about going back. Would Coral and Rori’s offers extend to Banff, Denali, Katahdin, and Monongahela?

For the first time in my life, there was the potential for real change in the Werewolf Council. Rori and her allies controlled two-thirds of the North American Packs. When the Alphas voted on replacement Council members, their selections would form most of the five-man World Council. It was an opportunity for us, and we had to figure out how to take advantage of it.

My problem was that the Oracle was as close to leadership as existed among the Rogues. Many rejected the idea of higher authority out of hand. They lived free and would die that way. Others had unofficial leaders within their species, usually respected elders, who gave guidance but had no overall authority. “How am I supposed to negotiate with the new Werewolf Council when I don’t have authority over any of them,” I said as I finished reading another thread.

“Do you think you are the one to negotiate?”

“Probably not. We need at least a titular leader. It would be better if we had an equivalent Council. I don’t want us to go hat in hand to the wolves, begging for scraps of a picked-over carcass.”

She thought about it. “We could always ask the groups to nominate someone. Each species could select someone to recommend their kind in a Free Species Council. Let those people select someone to represent them.” It was so fucking obvious that I’d missed it. “The Oracle is an information broker. We aren’t in charge of shit, Nathan. We put people together and help keep them safe.”

“We know everyone, Jade. Let’s put this out for comment.”

“Not everyone will want to participate. There’s a lot of animus against someone else being in charge.”

I nodded. “Well, it can be more of an association than a ruling Council. We’d have to propose what its powers and responsibilities would be. If it is weak enough, it might get widespread support.” It took us an hour to put together a proposal, which we sent to Isra, Stanley Biggs, and a few other people we trusted. We had the edits done after dinner and posted it to the chat forum, along with our reasons for putting it together.

There were some vehemently against it, but most saw the value in having representation. We all knew the upheaval in the Werewolf leadership was an opportunity to improve our lives.

We had to come together to negotiate.

Threads soon formed to nominate people in each species for the Association Board. Wolves, Bears, and Coyotes were established groups. To keep things fair, the proposed Board would require a minimum of fifty of each species to gain a seat. We’d add additional seats for every five hundred members of that species. It allowed the dominant wolf population a representative portion of the Board with three members. The Coyotes had two, and the Bears one.

Setting a minimum of fifty for a seat helped with the werecats and other species. Jaguars were damn near extinct after the Sons got wiped out. There were around thirty mountain lions and smaller numbers of lynx, leopards, tigers, and other exotic breeds. We ended with a single Werecat member. No other shifter groups had more than a dozen members, so I grouped them in an “Other” category. Our Board would have eight members.

I set up poll threads with the nominees and set voting to end at midnight on the 21st. We were moving fast, but we wanted to have it in place when the wolves selected their new Council.

The voting went smoothly, with most winning by large margins. Stanley Biggs was no surprise, but Isra was a shock. I figured the Mountain Lions would want one of their own. My mother-in-law had the respect of them all for how much help and advice she’d provided over the years.

The next step was to gather the Board and elect a Chair. Stanley offered to host at his home east of Great Falls, Montana. The location allayed the fears of many new members. Even the Werewolf Packs wouldn’t attack a Bear Den.

The other surprise was Stanley’s request that I join them. I didn’t want to, but he was persuasive. I knew their inner workings better than the three Werewolf members, who all grew up outside the Pack system. Second, I could represent the Oracle while keeping Jade out of politics. “Communications will be critical, and why would we copy a system that already works well? You’ll be our link to everyone else. You may speak your mind, but you won’t have a vote.”

The meeting was to begin at nine AM on Tuesday the 23rd. We said our goodbyes before lunch on Monday for the drive north. “Navigation says we’ll arrive at 7:14,” I said as we drove off.

“Is that the fastest route?”

“No, the interstate would be a little faster, but it goes closer to Bitterroot. We’ll go past West Yellowstone, north to Bozeman, then take the rural highways through the Plains to get to their place. We’ll stay well clear of any Packs.” Bitterroot wasn’t much of a Pack now; it was more of a Council prison and training facility. They had their Enforcers based out of there, so it was better to stay clear. The next closest Pack was Casper, on the other side of Yellowstone in Wyoming. Our route took an hour longer but was much more scenic.

We listened to the satellite radio on the way up and talked about our plans for the Board. Any plans for a low-stress drive went away when the news broke about former Chairman Coffey and the manhunt near Duluth. “What is that man thinking?”

I couldn’t believe the news reports. A Deputy Sheriff and his police dog had bite wounds, and a search was on for a wolf-hybrid dog that helped him escape. “He shifted in a shopping center and bit a human?”

“Cameras everywhere,” Isra agreed. “And how do you explain the Deputy’s fever and death tomorrow?”

I just shook my head. “They should have killed him after the attack on Arrowhead like they did with Millner.” He was still at large by the time we reached the den.

I helped with serving breakfast in the morning. I paid close attention to the conversation as the last of the new Board arrived, trying to get a read on their values. Charles Longwood from Tennessee, Mel Carter from Georgia, and Gene Cutter from California were the three werewolf members. All were over two hundred years old but looked like humans in their fifties. Isra represented the Werecats. Clarence Carter from Florida and Abraham Parsons from Virginia were the coyote shifters. The ‘other’ representative was Onida Longfeather, a Golden Eagle shifter from New Mexico. At nine, Stanley asked the Board to join him in the living room.

I found a place, which annoyed the newly arrived Mel. “What is he doing here?”

“He is the Oracle,” Stanley replied. “He won’t vote, but his voice and contacts are important to our work.”

Abraham’s jaw dropped. “YOU’RE the Oracle? Who was the woman I talked to?”

“The Oracle is an organization, not a person,” I said.

“Then what is your name?”

“The Oracle.” I didn’t want to risk my real identity getting out.

Stanley agreed it was better unsaid. “He can keep meeting minutes as Secretary and be our link to our people.”

It took a while to agree on the rules that I proposed. The final vote was unanimous. Three-quarters of the Board had to approve rule changes, while other decisions were simple majority. Stanley won the election to the Chair. “Thanks for nothing, people.”

“Paint the biggest target on the biggest person,” Onida teased. “You have our respect.”

Julie rushed into the living room, grabbing the television remote. “Sorry to interrupt, but you HAVE to see this,” she said. She turned it to cable news. They were showing a live view from the entrance to the Arrowhead Resort in Two Rivers, Minnesota. “HOSTAGE DRAMA ON THE NORTH SHORE” was the crawl.

“That’s Arrowhead Pack,” I said. We watched in shock as Coffey forced Rori’s pack to shift into their wolves on live television. “We have to warn people.”

“About what,” Clarence said. “Those fools have exposed us all!”

“It won’t be long until the military starts rounding us up,” Onida replied.

“Or just kills us,” Mel said.“This is a nightmare.”

“First things first,” Stanley declared. “I never thought this announcement would be my first act as Chair, but it is what it is. Oracle, draft a message.” It took five minutes because there wasn’t much to say. It announced the Chair and referred to the Arrowhead unveiling of werewolves, then recommended three things: Don’t shift, avoid groups, and wait at home until things calm down.

The news stations were already showing photos of pets like German Shepherds dead in backyards and hunters heading into the woods to kill wild wolves. I had a bad feeling. “As Admiral Painter said in the Hunt for Red October? ’This business will get out of control. It will get out of control, and we’ll be lucky to live through it.’”

“What do we do next,” Isra asked the group.

“I’m not sure,” Stanley said. “Let the Packs figure this out first. They don’t even have a Chairman I can reach out to.”

“Colletta Nygaard,” I told him. “She’s Mom to four Alphas and married to a man with strong ties to the Federal Government. I know she was in Washington, working with the Feds to take down the Sons and protect the Steel Brotherhood.”

“She’s no friend of ours if she helped get werejaguars killed.”

“They needed killing,” Isra replied coldly. “They were drug smugglers and dealers with Cartel connections who didn’t give a shit about anyone else. Then they went after a Pack in a VERY public manner. No one will miss them.”

“We are getting distracted,” Mel said. “What do we even ask the Council for? We’re well past the ‘leave us alone’ stage now.”

“Offer a truce and our assistance,” Isra replied. “We need recognition and respect from the Council, and it’s not the time for a dick-measuring contest. This crisis can only end well if we make peace with each other AND the Federal Government. Any other way, it’s a matter of whether our killers are in fur or camouflage.”

Speak of the devil. Colletta Nygaard was in Washington. The White House announced President Kettering would speak about the situation at Arrowhead in one hour. Lunch was sandwiches and chips, eaten in front of the television.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, the President of the United States.” She walked into the Rose Garden with Luna Colletta just behind her to the left.

“Good afternoon, everyone. Today, we all watched in shock and horror as a hostage situation narrowly avoided a tragic end in northern Minnesota. A man with a grudge took the wife of a Sheriff hostage and demanded a peaceful group of Americans show their secret to us all. The man was a werewolf, as were the fifty-some residents of Arrowhead Lake under the leadership of Alphas Rori King and Chase Nygaard. Chase’s mother, Colletta Nygaard, is standing with me today, representing Werewolves across our country and the world.”

“Not us,” Gene said under his breath.

“They elected HER to be the Werewolf Council Chair?” I smiled, enjoying their shock at a male-dominated species electing a female leader. She was my first choice if I had a vote.

“Werewolf Council Colletta Nygaard was here in Washington with me already. We were negotiating how they could live openly without panic or violence. She and her people have cooperated in the investigation into Jack Coffey’s criminal activities and provided invaluable assistance in our takedown of the violent Sons of Tezcatlipoca biker gang and their drug distribution operation. I am pleased to be here with Colletta as we usher in a new era of cooperation with her kind. Madam Chairwoman?” Colletta tried to ease the shock of Werewolves being real and calmed the fears of those who knew us only as monsters or fictional characters. She was good at this.

The President spoke again. “Werewolves are humans under the law. They are Americans with the same Constitutional rights you have and the same protections as anyone else. We will not tolerate violence or discrimination against them. I would not be standing here next to the highest-ranking Werewolf in the world if I thought she wasn’t representing our values.” She and Colletta alternated speaking for a few more minutes before President Kettering wrapped it up. “There is no danger, no crisis, only an opportunity to work together and build a brighter future together.”

“I look forward to a new era of cooperation between our peoples,” Colletta added.

“That is all. Thank you for coming,” President Kettering said.

Stanley muted the news so we could talk. “I won’t be able to get to her while she is in Washington.”

I nodded. “Not more we can do until then.” We talked for another hour before ending the meeting. All were nervous about human hunters and the military. They wanted to be home to protect their families.

I handed out cards with the address and passwords for a private chat room for the Board. “We can pass messages, use a bulletin board program, even videoconference securely,” I told them.

“Let’s have the next chat on Friday at 6 PM Eastern,” Stanley said. “That gives me a few days to contact the Council Chairwoman. If you want to stay overnight, we have room. Otherwise, thanks for coming, and have a safe trip home.” Most wanted to get on the road right away, with only Onida taking their offer of a room.

We watched the coverage late into the night as the human debates raged. The Nygaards showed good instincts in public relations, opening their home for a live interview while Rori was still fighting to save her babies. The clip of her twin babies rushing across the room to embrace their mom in wolf form was priceless.

I grew to respect Onida’s advice to Stanley. “Never accept anything that makes you a second-class citizen. We will not agree to be marked like Jews, herded into reservations like my people, or restricted in our movements. I would sooner die fighting than live on my knees,” she vowed.

“I have to agree with her,” I said. “I don’t trust the Council. Their interests are not ours, and I won’t let them treat independent shifters as something below them.”

“I can make that demand when I speak with her,” Stanley said. He finished his bourbon and got up. “I should be getting to bed.”

“Us, too. We’ll head out early in the morning.”

We made it home safely. I kept expecting a roadblock over the next hill or a mob in the towns, but things were calm. It wasn’t that way everywhere. A sniper took a shot at Alpha Chase, and some yahoos in an airplane shot up the Cascade Pack on camera. The wolves stayed calm, and the crazies lost support over the next few weeks.

The Oracle was busier than ever. People needed new identification, safe houses, transportation, and anything else you could think of. Rogues will pack up and leave at the first sign of trouble, so it didn’t surprise me. Our land was isolated enough that we resumed shifting at night a few days after the Arrowhead Awakening. Things were going back to normal, right?

A FedEx package arrived at our front door five days after returning home. Inside were two first-class plane tickets from Salt Lake City to Mazatlan and a three-day stay at the luxury Pueblo Bonita Emerald Bay resort. “We look forward to seeing you and Jade on Sunday,” the attached letter said. “Enjoy this all-expense-paid vacation as a thank-you for your hard work.” It was signed, “Your Friends in Sinaloa, Mexico.”

Shit.

We talked after the children were in bed. "We have to go,” Jade said. “The Cartel knows where we live, and they know who I am.”

“We could leave and go hide somewhere else,” I argued.

Isra shook her head. “They are watching us. If you run, you’re dead.I’m with Jade on this. You have to go and see what they want from you.”

“They might want us dead,” I said.

“If all they wanted was that, they wouldn’t bring you to a beach resort to do it. Quit pretending you have a choice.”

She was right. “I don’t like leaving you guys behind as leverage.”

“We’ll be all right. The Cartel don’t know we can shift and disappear into the mountains.”

That wasn’t comforting. “I didn’t think they know where we lived, either.”

In the end, we didn’t have a choice. We flew down to Mazatlan and tried to enjoy our first day of a kid-free vacation in years. It’s hard to relax when you don’t know if you’ll get a rum drink or a bullet to the back of the head next.

A dinner reservation we found slid under our room door on Tuesday morning, which ended the suspense. It was a fancy place, so we dressed in our best clothes and arrived on time. The hostess escorted us to a private room where two men and one woman waited. “The woman from Alcatraz,” I sent to Jade as they stood.

“Welcome to Mazatlan,” the older man said. “I am Ismael Zambada. This young man is my son Serafin. You’ve already met my daughter Midiam.” Ismael was the head of the Cartel. The three were not anxious here, which meant they weren’t worried about the police. It also meant they had guards nearby.

I smiled at the three as I turned to my wife. “Nathan Storm, and my wife Jade. Thank you for inviting us to join you.”

After greeting us like old friends, the waiter took our drink orders and disappeared. A line of servers began to fill the table with appetizers. “I hope you don’t mind, but I ordered for everyone. Try a little of everything; the chef is a genius.”

“They aren’t going to poison us,” I said as I started to fill Jade’s plate for her. She was sitting next to Midiam as they discussed their favorite San Francisco restaurants.

The food was fantastic. We didn’t talk business until the plates were gone, the doors closed, and glasses of the finest tequila were in hand. “If I may be so bold, what do you need from the Oracle?”

“Information and assistance,” he said. “Do you know why the Sons of Tezcatlipoca were so successful in the drug trade?”

“Chapters in multiple cities, loyal soldiers, and stable leadership?”

He shook his head. “Don’t hold back on me now, Nathan. A day after werewolves show themselves to the world, the CIA breaks Julio Salazar out of prison. He disappears, and I’m asking myself why. Then, my source in the Task Force gets me this file.” He played a short video on his phone. It was dark, and a cat picked its way across the rocks before leaping over the border. “That’s Maria Meztli, daughter of the late Pedro Meztli. He was President of the Denver chapter of the Sons.”

“And you killed him.”

“Yes. We didn’t know they were all werejaguars at the time.”

“The Sons leadership is dead, sir. I heard the Oakland VP hung himself in protective custody.”

He put the phone away. “The males, yes, but they had sons and daughters who weren’t part of the Club. I want them found and turned over to me.”

My eyes got big. “You want them dead?”

“No. I want them alive and working for me. Werecats, werewolves, I don’t care. People who can see in the dark, scent like a drug dog, run faster, jump high, and carry heavy loads over distances? I want those capabilities under my control.” He poured another round. “I will pay you fifty thousand dollars for every man or woman you recruit for me. I will pay them ten thousand a month to start, twenty after they prove themselves to me. I want the first ten by the beginning of July.”

“That is a tall order. We know the CIA is after them, along with the military and law enforcement.”

He drank his tequila and slammed the glass down. “Get me my ten shifters, Nathan. If you don’t? Your family will make up the difference.”