Cynetic Wolf

I couldn’t sleep. The prospect of war—of real combat—terrified me. A drone shooting up our cabin had never entered my mind. It gave me goosebumps. The awesome and destructive power of a bomb, a bomb meant for me. I was overreacting. They couldn’t know we were here, could they? Still, knowing what a motivated enemy could do and how we were helpless, made you think.

I opened the door and Lars was waiting for me. He handed me a mug. “Drink up and take a piss, we’ve got a busy day.”

We met outside two minutes later. Sparring. He’d etched a three-meter circle in the snow inside another fifty percent larger one.

He pointed. “We’ll practice takedowns and close quarter fighting. You need to be efficient with your movements. Want to attack or defend?”

“I’ll attack.”

“Okay, you defend.” Lars grinned. “I’ll try to take you down. Defense is more important anyway,” he added with a smirk.

Thirty seconds later, I dusted myself off. He’d taken me down and choked me out with near inhuman speed. Lars was a better, more experienced fighter than I was, but that was no reason to quit. I was gonna win this time, damn it. I don’t care what it takes.

“Again,” Lars said.

This time I’d switch it up, keep him guessing. He saw through my deception, feinted, and swept my feet from under me, pouncing before I’d hit the snowy ground. Ugh.

“Remember what we talked about. It’s mental, not physical. You need to read your opponent, know what they’ll do before they do it.”

I’m trying… Whatever that means.

We must have drilled takedowns and defenses for two hours. I was getting into it and excited for the next when he said, “Your turn.”

The tables turned, I was ready to try what I’d learned. And I wanted a little revenge to wipe that smug grin from his face.

Another two hours, another string of embarrassing losses. At least I got better, making mistakes and correcting them every round. I hadn’t won yet, but by the time Lars said, “I’m hungry, let’s eat,” I felt much more confident.

Walking back to the cabin, he patted me on the shoulder. “Don’t beat yourself up. You did well for a beginner. Toward the end, you started to get the hang of it. You’re no Bruce Lee,” he added with a playful smile. “But you did well.”

Inside, the fridge was an empty wasteland and I offered to hunt.

Lars thought it was a good idea. “While you’re out there, think about Caen. By the time you’re back, I want three options to conquer or destroy the city and an analysis of each. We’ll talk about them when you’re back. Sound good?”

“Yeah.” I turned to leave. Let’s see—

“And, Raek,” Lars added. “Be careful, kid. I’m starting to like you. Can’t say that about most people.” He smiled. “Good luck.”

Slipping out the door, my mind raced. Three ways to capture Caen—that was tough. I wanted to wow him, and was formulating a plan when there was a flutter of snow. The pine tree ahead shook, powder falling from its tall, bare branches.

What was that? I hadn’t heard anything and switched to thermals to survey the area. Nothing. I was about to continue when I glimpsed an osprey overhead, reminding me of the drone.

If the GDR could bomb us, couldn’t we bomb them? Caen was a stationary target. Sure, it’d be hard, there’d be missile defense systems everywhere. But a well-placed, well-timed, aerial bomb might be able to take out the Board.

I thought about the drill last night. Then what? What would happen if we took out the Board? Mhm... Chaos, maybe?

If politicians saw a power void, they’d want in, like a hunter shooting the alpha male. With the leader gone, wolves descended into violence, each fighting for alpha status and the mating rights that went with it.

That could work. The Initiative could come in and crush the headless beast. Yes! One idea down.

Checking a map of the park to get a sense of where I might find game, I noticed the name again, Bear Creek Lake. Ironic. An hour, and no bear tracks. So much for a namesake. Oh, it was winter... The fuzzy killers were hibernating, hiding in caves, and living off stores of fat. Like a sleeper cell.

What about a double agent? If we could place someone close to the higher-ups in the Board, we might get somewhere. A bomb at their monthly meeting?

Two down, one to go.

I was getting into it when the wind changed, and the fur on the back of my neck stood.

It took a few minutes before I realized what the wolf in me already knew. There were elk nearby, at least one. Two, maybe three kilometers north. Jogging, I kept my eyes open, straining my ears.

Over the small hill was a magnificent view of the park. Light shimmered off the frosty overcoat. Movement. Sure enough, there they were at the base of the hill. Not a kilometer from where I stood were a small group of elk, four in total. Three adults and a young calf.

Moving into the treeline, I made my way toward them. The wind remained constant, allowing me to get within a hundred meters without startling them.

Hadn’t Fitz said the stunner could do fifty meters?

Five agonizing minutes of silent crawling, chest and elbows screaming in protest, my range finder told me I was close enough.

Lining up the calf’s meaty side flank, my stomach growled and something spooked the elk. The adults raised their heads in alarm and ran. I fired, but not before the baby took a frightened half step toward its mother.

My shot missed centimeters from the calf’s backside. Spinning, I aimed at the fleeing calf but my next went wide too. Damn!

Jumping, I darted after them across the frozen turf. They were less than a hundred meters ahead of me and I pushed hard. That lasted another five minutes until, exhausted from my three-kilometer dead-sprint, I collapsed. I was fast, but the elk were faster.

I never stood a chance but hadn’t wanted to give up. I wasn’t a quitter. And yet, I’d failed. Loafing back toward the cabin, I took a different route. Maybe I’d get lucky.

I didn’t. As the cabin came into sight, I remembered Caen. I didn’t want to disappoint Lars, but try though I might, my brain was spent. Two failures for the price of one...

Stepping into the cabin, it hit me. Of course, the elk.

Lars offered a jester’s wave. “The mighty hunter returns. How goes it, kid?”

“Crappy. I didn’t catch anything.”

“Here, have some coffee.” The excited fire faded from his voice. “You look cold.”

I grabbed the cup. At least it was warm, and he didn’t say anything about my failure. “I know how we could fight the GDR and win.”

“Ohh?” he said with a disbelieving smile. “And what’s the great Sun Tzu propose?”

“What? Sun Tzu who?”

“The ancient Chinese military strategist,” Lars replied. “It’s not important. You were saying...”

“Oh, yeah! The government is like a pack of rabid wolves. They have their alphas—the Board—and everyone else.” I explained the concept.

When I finished, he said, “Good reasoning. But how?”

“Targeted drone strike. We find out when the Board meets and bomb ’em.” Drone strikes were impossible for us to prevent, and the GDR must have defense systems, but it might be possible with enough planning.

“I like it. It’s a good first effort.”

A good first effort... that’s it? “The second’s a variation, an undercover agent, like hibernating. If we get someone into the Board’s inner circle—or even the Parliamentary Building—we could sneak a bomb into a meeting, or shoot them outright.”

“Also a good idea.” He didn’t look impressed. “It will take time and be risky though. We’ll talk about it later. And the third option?”

“We run.” I waited for him to take the bait. He would...

“We run?” He raised an eyebrow.

I told him about the elk. “I kept running, kept chasing. I wanted to win. We could do the same, bait their forces into the open, get them to chase us and hit ’em with a surprise attack. We could turn the tables if they think we’re desperate enough.”

He grinned. “Now that’s interesting! A few potential pitfalls...”

We went on like this the rest of the afternoon and well into the evening, talking through situations and scenarios. Lars always played devil’s advocate, asking “why not?”, “what if…”, “did you consider…?”

By the end, we’d had enough and needed to relax. Plus Lars’ stomach grumbled.

I winced. “I’ll go hunting at dawn and get something this time.”

“Don’t worry, kid. Shit happens. I’m not as practiced as you at skipping meals. Food’s easier to come by in the cities and I’ve gotten soft. This is good for me.” He forced a weak smile.

“When did you move to Caen?”

“Long time ago, kid. Came for work; that was the cover at least. In reality, to be closer to the Initiative and the GDR. Keep your friends close and enemies closer. Anyways, got a job with the city, civil engineer’s apprentice.”

He’d been responsible for optimizing transit systems and told me about how bad it had been post Green Energy transition. They’d exported Caen’s successful models to other cities. “Did that for ten years before I got bored. I’ve worked a lot of jobs since.”

At least, Lars was more talkative than Fitz. Still, I missed Fitz. “Why’d you leave the Initiative?”

“Same as Lyam, I’d guess. I’d had enough. I was tired of fighting and things not changing. Guess I got lazy too.”

I didn’t know how to respond, so instead, I said the real thing that had been bothering me. “What if we fail? What if I fail?”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“What if it comes to war and the government wins? What if they crush the rebels? What then?”

He shrugged. “What about it?”

“All those people. All that suffering, all for nothing...”

“If we fail, we fail,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone. “But how bad would that be? If we fail, nothing changes, but if we do nothing, nothing changes anyway, right?”

I opened my mouth and closed it. “Oh, I never thought about it like that.”

Lars chuckled. “It’s like playing with house money. The worst case scenario is basically the world today. What have we got to lose?”

Good point. “But wouldn’t it set the Resistance back?”

“Sure, but that’s life. And life’s a war, not a battle.” He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter how many times you get hit or how often you fall, kid. Only thing that counts is getting back up. But let’s sleep,” he said with a yawn. “We got a big day ahead of us.”

“We do?”

“Everyday’s a big day. Plus you better catch something or I might have to eat you.” He rubbed his stomach with a playful smile.

I laughed, and we both headed to our rooms, exhausted.

The next two weeks flew by. We hit our stride, sparring in the mornings and strategizing in the evenings, little variation to our days. I was getting the hang of grappling, and Lars showed me more sophisticated takedowns. He’d never trained a cynetic before, but said I picked up BJJ much faster than he’d expected. After I won several fights, he switched to striking.

In my spare time, he had me read The Art of War, Machiavelli, and other military books. He showed me manipulation classics too: How to Win Friends and Influence People, Influence, the 48 Laws of Power. Lars had access to everything through TOR4, and I could read a book or two a night.

It started to be fun. I could get used to this.

If only it would last…