Valkyrie Down

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 He surveyed the clearing to see the wild pack of wolves from his vantage point in the opposite tree line. Hunting this pack from the nearby Native American Reservation had been a task. The pack had been elusive to where he had been all over the countryside for days. Resting only when he had to and foraging for food on the fly. There is a scent drifting in the air of death, coming from the four bodies in the middle of the clearing that the pack is feasting on. The wild pack has escalated now, going from pilfering small livestock to more human prey. He concentrates on the largest wolf who has to be the Alpha.

   It is only then he catches other scents in the air. Three people are in the area and one of their scents is familiar to him. What are they thinking? he thinks to himself. His entire body tensed up as the genuine threat that there will be more dead bodies presented itself. The situation was already not ideal. News of this slaughter of humans was going to spread and cause panic. Dozens of angry would-be hunters would flood the countryside to hunt this pack. The very threat of a few of those becoming what they were hunting against their will and under the command of the renegade Garou trying to assemble a pack.


   He could not stand by and watch the slaughter of more humans, especially Mitchel Walker. There was no way he was going to allow his Blood Brother to fall to the savagery that this renegade had promoted to with this new pack. He knew also that would mean revealing that the renegade had broken the pact. Explanations would have to be made, but first, this situation needed to be ended now.

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   As Mitch and Eugene moved as silently as they could in separate directions, Jes moved to her left so she could get a clear view of the clearing. She raised her rifle to survey the targets as various scenarios run through her mind. Jes whispered through her mike, dangling from her right ear. "How far are you guys going in, Mitch?"

   "Ten yards," came his reply.

   In her mind, she adjusted the scenarios to account for throwing arcs and delays before the dentation of the concussion grenades. Most likely, the grenades will land close to the wolves closest to her, which would create a moment of disorientation before they pick a direction to run off. Using the concept of tactical priority, the closest wolf to Jesalyn was approximately eighty-five yards from her. She adjusted her magnification to allow her an appropriate field of view before she mentally calculated the bullet drop of her subsonic round. Jes with deliberation eased her safety off and rested the pad of her index finger on the trigger. "Valkyrie, ready for your order," she whispered, referring to herself by her old CIA callsign out of habit.

  "Copy, Valkyrie ready on my order," Mitch confirmed he heard her. "Eugene, you in position?" he asked.

  "Ready on you, Sherriff," came the ready call.

   "On my mark. In three... two... one..." Mitch popped the ring pin, then threw the concussion grenade.

   Not a split second later, Jes saw Eugene's grenade arc from her left. Both landed just two yards shy of where she expected as they detonated. The accompanying thunderous cacophony made all the wolves jump, howl, and shake their heads. Jesalyn squeezed off two rounds at her designated prey. The muffled sound of her subsonic bullets where not heard by the targeted wolf. The wolf's brain matter spray into a red mist on the opposite side of where the bullets impacted as the now-dead wolf fell to the ground. Jes fired off two more rounds at the next wolf to the right of it and that wolf followed suit. Dropped dead. Then the largest black wolf in the pack stood up on its hind legs and howled as it looked at the two wolves upon which she had fired. Jesalyn looked through the rifle scope with shock as the wolf took on a more human appearance. "What the actual fuck?!" she exclaimed.

   "OH Shit!!!" came Mitch's voice over her headset. "Jes, light it up!!!!"

   "What's going on?!" Larissa asked with an excitedly worried tone over the com.

   Jes started squeezing off rounds as fast as she could while raising her barrel toward the humanoid wolf's head. The impacts registered through her scope as small blood spatter impacts as she zippered her way up. When the final round of her magazine hit. It looked in her direction and it looked like it was pissed. "Mitch, what the fuck is this thing?..." she said as she quickly did a magazine exchange and slapped the side of her AR-15 to send the bolt forward "... it looks like it wants to eat me, and not in an enjoyable way!!" she exclaimed as she slowly moved forward and kept firing at it.

   "Guys? You, okay?!" Larissa asked anxiously.

   "We're handling it, Larissa! Just Stay there and wait for backup," Mitch ordered as he popped another concussion grenade the Garou's way. Fuck, this is bad, he thought. They were not equipped to deal with a Garou. Unless Jesalyn had an extra couple hundred rounds, she would eventually run out. At her range, the bullets were doing damage. As soon as she hurt him, the Garou was healing. The concussion grenade went off and caused the Garou to howl in pain again. The other wolves had fled the area thankfully during the first volley. "FUCK!!!!" Mitch shouted. He did not want to have to explain to Jesalyn about this. Not this soon. This was not supposed to happen again, ever. His brown eyes shifted to amber as he called from within himself to tap his innate gift. No, my brother, do not do it. Came the telepathic call in his head. Mitch turned his head toward the opposite tree line from Jesalyn. Another Garou was lumbering at top speed toward the quickly recovering one. This one was gray and from the telepathic call it could only mean one person "Jes, stop shooting the cavalry has arrived!!!" Mitch yelled into the mike.

   "The FUCK you say!!!" Jesalyn exasperatingly shouted back. She noticed the other gray werewolf? as it lunged at the black one to engage in a feral fight of claws, teeth, and fury. She watched with her rifle still ready as she was ten feet into the clearing. She could see Mitch immediately as he had run into the clearing from the right side. It looked like he was going to engage the thing, and then he stopped. Then she remembered Eugene, and she looked to her left. He had come into the clearing with his shotgun at the ready, but the look on his face was just as stunned as how she felt.

   Mitch ran toward Jesalyn at full pace, circling the fight between the Garou. "Jes! Back up!" he yelled.

   Jesalyn snapped her head toward Mitch, yelling, only stopping to see the black werewolf land right in front of her. She instinctively jumped back while she brought her rifle back up and laced it in its face. It howled in pain and trashed at her with its right-clawed hand. The wolf connected with a backhand, launching Jesalyn backward into a pine tree hard. Jesalyn's vision blurred and swirled. She shook her head defiantly to stave off the unconsciousness that threatened to take her out. As she stood up, triple visions of the gray wolf pouncing on the black wolf danced in a pulsating rhythm of her pounding heart. Her legs felt like they were toothpicks too weak to hold her weight. I will not fall to my knees before cowards, was her odd thought, trying to summon the strength to remain standing. The last sight she saw was the gray werewolf tearing out the black one's throat with a savage bite. Then her world faded to black.

   "No! No! No no no no...." Mitch exclaimed as she caught her as she pitched forward. As he guided her down as he fell to his knees with her. He quickly checked her pulse. It was there and strong; he breathed a small sigh of relief.

    Eugene slid to a stop and got down on one knee. "She, okay?" he asked with a heavy amount of concern, "I thought the pact prevented both the Lycans and Garou stuff on the reservation only?"

  "Yes, thank God she's alive," Mitch said looking at Eugene with confusion, "The Pact may be broken."

 God? God has not dealt with us for nearly two millennia, little watered-down Nephilim.

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