Cynetic Wolf

We kept eyes on the place for the next two days to no avail. Something, or someone, was keeping him busy. By the fourth day, I was worried. Did they have a falling out? Had his system found the intrusion? Or maybe a more beautiful mistress...

Whatever the reason, those four days were miserable. Every day, there were dozens of stories on what the WNN had taken to calling World War IV. Tens of millions were slaughtered as fighting outpaced even the brutal first days of the conflict. The footage was horrifying; bodies strewn everywhere, a jumble of arms and legs and decomposing corpses.

The GDR seized control of several megacities while exterminating dozens of towns, and our forces captured nine tier one and tier two cities. Overall, it felt even, each side delivering crushing blow after crushing blow on a daily basis; heavyweight boxers ruining each other’s future with every swing.

And Calter still hadn’t called back. My plan had failed. Morale was bad and worsening. I couldn’t blame them.

Wednesday, Zedda and I went for a walk. It had been ages since we’d had a moment alone, months of constant crab cooking pressure… and it was only four days.

“How are you feeling?” she asked when we reached the pond.

I sighed. Only she knew how I was really doing, that the optimistic facade was a front to motivate the troops. My insides were dying.

She took my hand and placed it on her belly. She wasn’t showing, but I knew. That was the one ray of hope in all this, the one thing keeping me going. “He’s here for you, Raek. We’re here for you.” We both thought it was a boy, but hadn’t had the chance to see a doctor, or run a test. A son, wow. My son… What would he be like? Was I ready?

“What about you? How are you—”

A call came in. Crap, was it Calter?

It wasn’t. One of the undercovers watching the mistress’ apartment was on the line. Someone matching Calter’s description had pulled up in a high-end Volvo with tinted windows and hurried into the building.

Zedda and I ran back to the farmhouse.

The kid—Baker was his name—had managed a quick snapshot of the suspect. I got it seconds later.

‘That’s him! That’s Fury!’ This was it. ‘Good work, Baker. We’ll have a team onsite in two minutes. Stay put, watch the door. Once they enter the building, get out of there. Find somewhere safe to hide, but keep your eyes out.’

‘Yes, sir!’ Baker stood straighter. ‘Thank you, sir. It’s an honor.’

I ignored the sir comment and made the call. We had a team of five ready round the clock.

‘It’s on!’ I said as soon as the call connected, the entire farmhouse gathered around me, listening. ‘He entered the building.’

‘Roger that!’ the leader replied in a Georgia twang. ‘En route now.’

‘Call when you have him. We’ll send backup.’

‘On it. Over and out.’ He signed off.

This was either going to be ingenious or an absolute disaster. “How soon can we have a second team onsite?” I asked.

“Ten minutes,” Zedda said without hesitation.

“Do it! We should be fine, but just in case.”

She made the call.

But what was I doing here? I needed to be there. Since retreating to the farmhouse, it had killed me sending others into harm’s way. It was one thing when my life was on the line, but from the safety and comfort of the safehouse, it felt wrong.

Screw it! “Get me a VTOL!” I said.

Zedda grabbed my arm to stop me. “But, Raek, you—”

“I’ll explain later.” I pushed past, hurrying to the barn, calling Henk as I ran.

‘Hey, Henk, I need a ride.’

We were airborne two minutes later. It would take eight to get there, minutes after the second team arrived. A call came in on the approach. That was quick. Was it really that easy? I patched it through the farmhouse so they could savor the moment, muting them before answering.

‘Hello?’ I said.

A long pause, and what sounded like Beethoven in the background. Beethoven? I tensed. ’Did you think five would be enough?’ a voice hissed.

No… I closed my eyes. It was Calter. ‘Surely you didn’t fall for the oldest one in the book? An unsecured comms line.’ He laughed.

My head spun. This wasn’t happening. ‘What do you want, Calter?’ I spat.

‘A meeting. Just you and me,’ he added in an innocent voice.

‘Are they alive?’ I asked. Had I condemned more innocent people? If I could keep him talking...

‘Of course,’ he said in a low, sarcastic voice. ‘Well, two of them, and barely.’

’Let me talk to ‘em. I need proof.’ The fur on the back of my neck tingled.

Henk looked at me, worried. Three minutes, he mouthed.

‘Raek, it’s me Zedric,’ a voice coughed. ‘He’s—’ Thud.

‘Zedric’s out again, that should do for proof. If not, here’s, what’s your name, boy?’

‘Frankis, Frankis Caol,’ a voice whimpered.

‘Ah, yes, Frankis.’ Another slam. ‘Frankis and Zedric are alive. I can’t say the same for the other three, or the kid on the corner. It was pathetic.’ He laughed again, freezing me. ‘Their deaths are on your hands, boy. Tonight, 23:00. I’ll send you coordinates twenty minutes beforehand. Come alone or these two die!’

‘Wait!’ One minute until our backup arrived. Would they be in time?

The call ended, the connection to the farmhouse unmuting.

The room was silent.

They’d heard everything.