Target (Complete)

Target 18

One second was all it took for Alex to form a plan of attack. 

Mostly. 

She went by instinct and sheer lunacy. 

On the one hand, she was a female wolf, who was by nature smaller than a regular male wolf. The reason why she was good at taking out male wolves, was because she never went for them while in fur. Physically, she could never take them down with her own brawn. If she kept biped, she had a really good chance to get them down with her brain. Most werewolves were not used to fighting on two feet. 

Unfortunately, the two men behind her did not have the same plan. 

Finn was a big wolf, that was a given. He was also an incredibly good fighter in and out of fur, more so  in fur. He was also cocky, impulsive, hot-heated, and wanted to prove himself better than a trained killer. So on his way across the kitchen he managed to kick Lucian behind him, exploded into a ball of angry fur, and lounged at a wolf who was chemically enhanced and perhaps filled with pure synthetic rage. 

He was waiting for him. He'd seen the slight twitches on his face muscles before he'd taken the leap. Saw his biceps flex and the trajectory his eyes and hands were making. He saw the complete transformation from the breaking of the bones to the explosion of hair. He's enhanced and deranged medicated and chemically altered brain registered it all. 

As his brain was seeing and processing all of the above, his body was moving too, towards the ball of egotistical hair leaping at him. He jumped at the exact moment his body told him to, to ram his shoulder unto the black wolf's chest, and hold on tight. He was going to stop the air from going to his head while turning around to face the other assailants. The back of his mind that was still sort of rational told him so. 

He was holding on too tight that in seconds, after the wind was knocked out of his massive animal body, Finn was feeling the sinking feeling of unconsciousness start to make his way through his tail and back packs. He let out a small wimp. 

Alex knew that she needed him to give her his back, if she was going to have any chance at all while he was on two legs. He was charged up on drugs and she knew her limitations...physically. 

So did Lucian. So he did what his body and mind told him to do. He grabbed the closest knife to his periphery and lounged towards his target. He figured that he had quite a few pounds of muscle on the Russian to more or less even out the playing field--hopefully. 

And he had a knife. 

The sudden but expected appearance of a weapon intended to cause him harm made the Russian jump with excitement, inwardly.  The drug cursing through his veins, among a few other things, heightened his flight or fight response, and set it to fight. It fine-tuned his abilities, and made him incredibly aware of himself while as a wolf. But unfortunately for him, it almost always only responded to outside threats. The drug made himself want to feel both high and lows of every and all experiences. 

He cracked a smiled and let go of the alpha before feeling the ecstasy of letting his fur out. 

Now, Alex knew almost exactly what she had to do in order to keep everyone alive. 

She knew that there was no way Lucian could take him out with just a knife--not by himself, at least. They were going to have to work together, and probably had only a small chance that needed to be acted on real quick, real fast, and real hard. She could not knock him out, she wasn't strong enough for that while he was drugged up.  Maybe a kick to the head, just right, could do it, but she didn't have use for coulds and maybes. A broken leg or injured paw would slow him down enough for a precise kick, then between her and Lucian, they could snap his neck. A couple of bites wouldn't hurt him too much, but they could help. She was going to have to get close, and stay bipedal.