ManBeast - Book 1: A Kingdom of Predators

Chapter 11

CHAPTER 11

"All the Fangs will be in attendance?" a statuesque and stern woman replied. "Yes Mum; they all RSVP'ed for the Gauntlet, so we're expecting a sizeable turnout this time" a tall, dark and terrifying suit-clad Beast-Man responded. "Hmm. That means that the one we suspect of killing those undocumented Beast-Men on the news may be there as well," she states in return. Taking a pause for a moment to think, the woman turns around in her chair and raises up from her desk. "Ulric, have we gained any new information from our inside connections about the murders?" she asks as she scans over documents on her desk.

The suited Beast-Man named Ulric removed a folded piece of paper from his jacket pocket, and handed it to the woman. "Our connect in the police department stated that the local source of Feral distribution is believed to stem from one organization that is distributing the drug to smaller cliques. Nobody's talking, not even the informants, so it's still guess-work according to him. Based on the officer's rank, I'd say its credible, Mum."

The woman read the paper quickly, folded it back up, and handed it to Ulric. "Discard of this, make sure no one else sees or hears about it yet. The Committee and Brotherhood community are already on edge with the deaths of these Beast-Men, so bringing this to their attention now may only make things worse. We may have to handle this ourselves, and play it close it the chest. Have Todd, Ian, Oscar, and Renee at each entrance; I want to know when each Fang arrives and who they bring with them. The rest of the Pride Lands present tonight will be either on field, in the stands, or the sky box with the Committee; I'll leave those assignments to you. Is that understood?" she sternly inquired.

Ulric nodded curtly and bowed before making his exit of the room. Before exiting, the woman called for his attention again: "Ulric...thank you for your assistance. The Brotherhood stands to lose too much if we cannot uncover who is behind those murders, and even greater still who is behind the recent surge in Feral supply and demand. The Gauntlet tonight must be flawless if the Brotherhood is to continue its run of success. As Chairman, I cannot settle for anything less."

Ulric bowed his head again in affirmation, and exited the room. Walking back over to her desk, the woman picked up a folder marked "DRAFTEES" atop of it. Opening it, the first file that appeared inside brought an amused half-smile to her lips: "So you found him, Francis; after all this time...our little Julius."

"Where the hell are you, Frankie? You're missing out on the pre-scouting action! Plus, Doug and Zulu have seen each other, you're missing it!" Al chirped out of Frankie's car speakers. "I'm 5 minutes away, I'll be there soon. Al, don't let Doug make an ass out of himself; you know how he gets when Zulu is around. We're already playing a bad hand, and don't need anything other discrepancies," Frankie spoke aloud. He was pushing redline off of the freeway exit ramp, nearly clipping an exit side-rail barricade; he was running late for the Gauntlet preliminaries, and was doing his best to make up for the lost time. Fatherly duties still had their place, and Abigail's dance recital was just as important as the Gauntlet. Off the exit, onto a turnpike, down a main thoroughfare, into the back streets. Al, who was already present at the Gauntlet grounds, had remained on the phone the entire time and gave color commentary to what was occurring: "Doug is getting that look, Frankie! Oh shit, this is going to be GOOD! By the way, all four Fangs are here, so you better put your game face on too. Manny's gonna jump at the chance to say some stupid shit to you."

"Wonderful," Frankie belatedly sighed. Being late to such an important event was stressful enough; the added flavor of his detested rival in attendance soured his mood further. He was only a few blocks removed from the meeting location for the Gauntlet: The Vigrid Arsenal. It was one of the city community college's athletics facilities, complete with an underground track and field stadium built on the western edge of the city, heavily funded by Brotherhood money. The school had been shut down under the guise of maintenance and fumigation, effectively chasing all civilians from the facility. Frankie had just sped into one of the underground parking facilities when he heard several raised voices and murmurs projecting through his car Bluetooth speakers; an "oh shit!" from Al punctuated the uncertain.