Wolf's Lie

by Laura Taylor

  “Putting everyone together in a compound of some sort is the most obvious solution,” Liam went on. “A very high-class jail, if you want to think of it that way. Private, comfortable rooms, access to televisions, books, exercise facilities, but everything ultimately under our control. That would maximise the number of inmates while minimising the security team needed to monitor them.”

  “These people are the good guys,” Thando reminded Liam. “We’re not ‘kidnapping’ them, we’re liberating them from a life of effective slavery. A compound is a good idea, but we could set it up like a Den – security and alarms around the perimeter, but leave people free to move around inside the property. Which would be far more enjoyable for them than being locked in a cell all the time.”

  “I have very little interest in debating whether or not we’re creating a good quality of life for people whose current occupation is to torture and murder us. So if you’re suggesting we take brazen risks with our security measures because our captives might get upset, then maybe you need reminding which war it is we’re fighting.”

  Thando ignored the insult. Assassins in general were not known for mincing their words, and Liam in particular had never bothered pulling his punches. But despite his sharp opinion, the honesty of his words was still appreciated. “The whole point of this exercise,” Thando pointed out, “is to acquire people who are genuinely on our side, people who hate the Noturatii as much as we do. So if they are, in fact, on our side, then prison-like security measures shouldn’t be required.”

  “On a theoretical basis, yes, I agree. But even if they’re collectively on our side, the difficulty comes in determining whether any given individual is trustworthy. I don’t want to be in a position where one mistake on our part could destroy everything we’ve worked for.”

  “Well, that raises another question; are we just using these people for our own ends, or do we have some further obligation to assist them in putting their lives back together? Taking down the Noturatii is a fine goal, but we’ve always been taught not to sacrifice our humanity in order to achieve it.”

  Liam fell silent, mulling that one over, and then he suddenly pushed off the counter. “You want to deal with the warm and fuzzy feelings, you’ll need to talk to Jane. Call me when you want to talk strategy again.” He strode out of the room, and a moment later, Analisa wandered in, giving Thando a knowing look. Liam’s hard-line pragmatism was a strategic advantage for an assassin, but it also sometimes made him a pain in the backside for anyone else trying to work with him.

  “Trying to decide how to tackle the problem of an increasing captive population,” he summed up the situation neatly. “And the latest question was this: do we have an obligation to help those we free to regain a semblance of a normal life, or can we simply hold them captive indefinitely as prisoners-of-war in order to gain strategic information from them?”

  Analisa leaned her hip against the counter, coincidentally in exactly the same position Liam had just been in. “I’m going to leap right in and assume you’re advocating the former option. Would that be correct?”

  Thando didn’t see any point in denying it. “Yes, it would.”

  Analisa nodded, staring at the floor with an introspective expression. “I’ve also noticed you have a certain concern for the level of comfort of our present captives. And while it’s a noble thing to honour the humanity even of our enemies,” she went on, before Thando could respond, “I’m going to go out on a limb and address the elephant in the room.” She levelled a steely glare at him. “It’s become clear from the few days I’ve been here that you’ve developed certain feelings for Gianna.” Thando felt his heart rate kick up a notch. “Am I also able to assume,” Analisa asked, “that you’re aware of these feelings, and that you’re taking appropriate steps to distance yourself from her?”

  “I am,” Thando replied, simply and smoothly.

  “Excellent,” Analisa said, her eyes never leaving his. “Moving on then. Let’s look at this from a different angle. Hypothetically speaking, if we were on the other side of this equation, trying to help the Noturatii with an entire nation of shifters baying for our blood, what would you expect in return for your assistance? What would you consider to be reasonable hardships, or unreasonable hardships?”

  “I don’t think either you or I make a good model for comparison,” he replied, “but leaving that aside, comfortable living conditions make everything else easier to tolerate. Good food, a decent quality bed, time and space to exercise, activities to keep the mind occupied. And a certain level of social interaction,” he added, gesturing to where Kathy and Gianna were sharing a meal beyond the door. “Take care of the basics, and I’d expect people to be more willing to compromise on the tougher parts – not being able to contact their families. Not being allowed to leave the premises.”

  Analisa nodded. “I agree. The simple truth is that if people see us as being unduly strict or overbearing, they’ll become less willing to help us achieve our goals. Making them comfortable requires more effort, but yields better results. So the answer to your question is that yes, we need to help them move on with their lives, to give them a sense of meaning and purpose, not because it’s the honourable thing to do, but because it actually serves our own purposes more effectively. The people we’re interested in are going to be intelligent and well educated. They’re going to want a purpose to their lives, even if those lives are necessarily restricted. Work, art, family, creativity. I think if we can find a way to work those elements in, then many of our other problems will fall away.”

  “What?” a sudden screech came from within the dining room. “Hey!” Kathy yelled, and a thump followed. “Hey, assassin people! Jim, Jane, whatever the hell your names are.”

  Rather than rushing into the dining room, as Kathy might have expected, Thando and Analisa both stepped back, weapons out, eyes trained on the door. Liam had yet to make a sound, and neither of them were foolish enough to charge headlong into a trap.

  But the lack of a response did nothing to deter Kathy. “If you’re discussing our future, then it would be more polite to include me and Gianna in the conversation,” she yelled. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, could you unchain me from the table?”

  “No,” came Liam’s muffled reply, followed by a short laugh. “Don’t panic, guys,” he called out louder. “Kathy’s just discovered she has an opinion about something.”

  Thando glanced at Analisa, seeing an amused smile on her face. He stepped over to the door and poked his head through. “Tell me you’re not repeating our conversations to our guests,” he said drily, only half joking.

  “Kathy asked why Analisa suddenly needed to leave,” Liam explained, leaning nonchalantly against the wall. “I told her you were discussing plans for the future. End of story.”

  “My future,” Kathy insisted, tugging on the chain that locked her to the heavy wooden table. “So I should get a say in it.”

  “And you will,” Thando told her, not entirely sure if that was true. “Later.”

  He closed the door again and moved to the other side of the kitchen. “I’m guessing all this discussion is leading up to our next call to the Council?” Analisa asked, and Thando nodded. He eyed the list of names on the table again. It was both encouraging to realise how deep the cracks in their enemy’s defences ran, and disheartening to know how many people had been dragged into this war against their will.

  “Kathy says she’s ninety-nine per cent certain that every single person on this list would jump at the chance to get out. And she says that these twenty could easily name another twenty to join them.”

  That made Analisa pause. “At some point in the future, we could well end up with a list of a couple of hundred people, all willing and eager to join our cause. But we can’t rescue all of them. For one thing, we don’t have the manpower, and for another, at some point the Noturatii is going to start retaliating. So there’s a little conundrum for us all,” she said, tapping a restless finger against her chin
. “If the purpose of pulling people out is to gain strategic information from them, then we have to cherry pick who to rescue and who not to. And moving against the Noturatii may, at some point, mean destroying buildings or particular divisions within the organisation, knowing full well that potential allies are still inside. The question of our obligations to those both inside and outside the organisation is not easily answered.”

  A moment of silence followed… and then Analisa suddenly burst out laughing. “We’ve all somehow assumed this is going to be a major undertaking,” she said, grinning in wry amusement at herself. “For all we know, the Council is going to say we’ve taken enough risks, we’ll do what we can with the intel from Gianna and Kathy, resettle both of them in Australia, and be done with it. And yet here we are, planning the fall of an empire from a suburban kitchen.”

  They both fell silent, not much more to discuss until their next scheduled discussion with the Council. But then another thought occurred to Thando.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask… Rumour has it that you saw Andre recently.” He hesitated to bring it up, knowing what else had happened at the conference in Scotland: Eleanor had been killed, a devastating blow for all the assassins. He couldn’t quite imagine what it would have been like to actually witness it.

  “I did,” Analisa said, avoiding the other details as cautiously as Thando had.

  “How is he?” Though they were a close-knit team, not every assassin necessarily liked all the others – as demonstrated by Thando’s initial lack of enthusiasm about working with Liam. But Andre had been more than a comrade, not just a brother-in-arms, but also a mentor and a true friend. His retirement had been bitter-sweet news for Thando, pleased that his brother had reached the end of his service with his life intact, and yet also feeling his absence as a significant loss.

  “Doing well,” Analisa said. “Circumstances were not the best, as I’m sure you understand, but his pack has accepted him wholeheartedly, and he has no regrets about leaving the guild behind. Married life suits him.”

  “He’s married? I hadn’t heard.”

  Analisa smiled. “Well, no, not technically. But he’s moved in with the British Den’s alpha and has every intention of making it a long-term arrangement.” The smile grew to a grin. “Funniest thing I’ve ever seen, watching him fawn all over his woman. She says two words and he’s practically tripping over himself to make her happy.”

  “Andre? Fawning? We’re talking about the same Andre here?”

  Analisa laughed. “I wouldn’t have believed it myself if I hadn’t seen it.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  A light drizzle was falling as Andre padded on silent paws along the outside of the stone wall that surrounded the Misty Hills estate. True to its name, the landscape was currently covered in a fine mist, dense pockets of fog gathering in low gullies, the rest of the forest damp and hazy as the rain failed to fully penetrate the branches of the trees.

  Andre kept his nose to the ground as he went, ears twitching, alert to any sign that something was amiss. This was just a routine inspection of the property’s borders, but that was no excuse for carelessness. The wall itself was enough to stop most idle wanderers, a clear sign that this was private property, and for those who didn’t get the message, the other security measures were sufficient to either deter overly-curious explorers or alert the Den to their presence. The boundary was checked at least once a day, but every now and then, it was worth carrying out a more thorough check of the surrounding area.

  It took several hours for someone to work their way around the entire property, but Andre found the job to be something of a pleasure. He didn’t often get to use his tracking skills anymore, and there was something soothing, almost hypnotic about the slow, methodical inspection, the quiet stillness of the countryside, the slow patter of the rain on the leaves.

  It was about ten o’clock in the morning when he finally made it around to the eastern side of the property. On that side there was a wide woodland area owned by the adjoining property, but the owners were elderly and hadn’t ventured this far from their house in years. As a result, it wasn’t uncommon for someone looking for a little peace and quiet to jump the estate’s gate and spend some time meandering about the woods.

  Andre started at the gate and worked his way out, and the first scent he detected was John’s. No surprises there. Whenever anyone jumped the gate, it activated a motion sensor which sent an immediate alert to Andre, Simon and Silas’s phones. Each of them could easily pull up the video feed and check who was coming or going, and so long as it wasn’t anyone who was confined to estate grounds, nothing more would come of it. It was a well-known fact that John had left the estate several times in the past few weeks. He’d been taking his lessons on meditation very seriously, earnest in his desire to get a handle on some of his wilder emotions, and it made sense for him to want to go somewhere he wasn’t likely to be interrupted to practise.

  Andre circled around, detecting the older scents of Raniesha and Simon – again, not a surprise. The pair of them had an on-again-off-again relationship, one which neither of them had ever sought to define in concrete terms, and they were known to sneak off together at random intervals for a little privacy. From what Andre could detect, though, they hadn’t come this way in at least two weeks.

  There were scuff marks on the ground around one of the pine trees, and he wandered over there... yup, more of John’s scent. A few odd scrapes on the tree suggested he’d been climbing it -

  Wait a minute. What the...? Andre circled around again, detecting something in the grass that wasn’t quite... What was that? It was hard to detect, even harder to define, but something was definitely off. He closed his eyes, breathing slowly, canine senses put to their full use, nose twitching as he scented individual blades of grass, a small patch of dirt, a leaf on a slightly higher bush...

  Petrol.

  He stopped, looking around in confusion. Why the hell would petrol be...?

  He sniffed around some more, found another tiny patch, then... what the hell was that? It was like pine oil, almost indistinguishable from the smell of a pine tree, but with a very faint chemical tinge that Andre would have missed if he wasn’t as well trained as he was. It led away from the pine trees, and Andre followed it, ears alert, eyes constantly moving, seeking out any stray object, a footprint, a stray scrap of plastic or wire, anything that might seem out of place.

  The path led downhill, through long grass and shrubby undergrowth towards the road. The last ten metres or so were relatively free of cover, though the grass still grew long, and Andre crept down towards the road, keeping his body low, ever mindful of the risk of a local car coming along and spotting him. The scent of petrol was stronger here... A sudden blast of it in his nose had Andre snorting and gagging. Refined senses were all well and good, but they could certainly make life uncomfortable at times. He examined the patch of shrubbery carefully, and it was easy to discern that some sort of vehicle had been hidden here in the very recent past. A motorbike was most likely, given the size of the hiding place and the patch of flattened grass, though there was nothing here now.

  A cool fear began clawing its way up his spine.

  Checking the road was still clear, Andre ran for the cover of the trees, then made his way back to the pine tree. A quick sniff confirmed that John had been climbing it, but he suspected that maybe he hadn’t been the only one.

  He shifted and gave the tree a cursory examination, checking for traps, wires, anything that might have been left behind with nefarious intentions, at the same time as pulling gloves out of his pocket and putting them on. If he was right – which he prayed he wasn’t – then there was no telling what nasty surprises might have been left for him to find. An easy leap had him up into the lowest branches, and he climbed higher, noting the small signs of wear on the tree’s bark. Up another branch, around to the left a bit, another step up...

  Bingo. From this sheltered vantage point, he had a clear view o
f the estate’s front lawn, the row of aspen, the edge of the lake. Setting his feet carefully, he shifted again and spent a long moment sniffing the branch he was standing on. John’s scent was there, along with that same chemical smell of the intruder. How the two of them hadn’t run into each other was nothing short of a miracle.

  A moment later, he was back in human form, pulling his phone out of his pocket. His hands shook ever so slightly as he dialled Baron’s number, and then he had to work for a moment to find his voice when the man answered. “Call Isabelle and tell her to send Helga and a couple of her sisters over for a visit. We’ve got a broken water pump.” The phone went dead, the coded message understood perfectly.

  Andre felt a shiver run through him, the forest around him suddenly sinister and threatening. Though he was trained as an assassin, he hadn’t been maintaining anything like his former level of fitness, and the last time he’d fought a Satva Khuli, he’d won only by the narrowest of margins. The three assassins that Council would send should be able to take care of the Khuli by working as a team, coming at him or her from multiple angles, but if the estate came under attack before they arrived...

  “Sirius...” He trailed off, words failing him as the enormity of their situation hit him hard. He glanced around the trees again, the silence doing nothing to reassure him that he actually was alone, and then dropped to the ground, shifting to leap cleanly over the gate. They had about six hours to wait until the assassins would arrive, possibly more depending on where the Council’s plane was at the moment. Help us, he thought desperately, as he sprinted for the manor. Forgive me if I fail. Receive me with honour into the afterlife. And please, let this old assassin make one last kill before joining my brethren in your great hall.