The Frenzy Wolves

by Gregory Lamberson

  “Hi, this is Rhonda. Leave a message.”

  Recorded before her abduction by the Brotherhood of Torquemada, Rhonda’s voice sounded so innocent and carefree. Karol had listened to the outgoing message during Rhonda’s absence before she had met her and decided to offer her a place to stay.

  On the TV, camera flashes highlighted the features of Governor Gramm as he addressed a roomful of reporters in Albany. “I have a statement to read, and then I’ll take a few questions. Last night at approximately 10:15 pm, Manhattan Minute News ran a report that purported the existence of fantastic creatures in New York City and suggested that police and federal authorities have known about these creatures and covered up an investigation of them. The report exploited recent terrorist attacks in New York by trying to connect the activities of the Brotherhood of Torquemada to these creatures that appeared in an amateur video presented by Carl Rice. Needless to say, as any rational person would conclude, this report was a hoax. Carl Rice is not a journalist but the author of two sensational true crime books. I believe he perpetrated this hoax to generate publicity for these books and to enable him to write another one.

  “Regardless of Rice’s motivation, it was irresponsible and unprofessional of Manhattan Minute News to air this unbelievable fiction. The calamity caused by this TV station’s failure to meet even the minimal standards of broadcast journalism has already wasted time and manpower in the New York Police Department when its members are engaged in several serious investigations. I intend to meet with the attorney general as soon as possible to discuss whether charges can be filed against both Rice and Manhattan Minute News.”

  “Strong stuff,” Karol said. The power brokers were wasting no time dismantling Rice’s story. She knew there was no chance in hell the state would prosecute MMN or Rice, but the threat of doing so would pressure MMN to cut Rice off at the knees.

  A reporter asked the governor a question.

  He raised one hand in a dismissive gesture. “I don’t know what Carl Rice was thinking. He obviously didn’t consider the panic he could cause among people who should have known better. My understanding is that the NYPD is focused on apprehending Rodrigo Gomez and the FBI is concentrating on Elias Michalakis, who may have ties to the Brotherhood of Torquemada and is believed to be at large in New York City. I can’t comment on either investigation.” He pointed across the room. “Next question.”

  Elias Michalakis had just been thrown to the wolves.

  Karol finished dressing and left for work. She had considered taking the day off to look for Rhonda, but she had to put the needs of the pack ahead of those of one angry young woman. The exodus would be in full swing, and she could best help Gabriel and the council members by staying in the loop at work.

  She headed toward her SUV around the corner. Had Rhonda walked this same path? There was no way for her to pick up the scent in this wind, and the frigid air caused her nostrils to flare. Although the sun had risen, a layer of frost covered her vehicle, and she used her coat sleeve to wipe it from the driver’s side window.

  Karol didn’t notice the black van until it pulled up beside her and she saw its reflection in the glass. The side door of the van opened, and a man sprang out at her; she recognized Leon as he pressed a cloth over her mouth and nose. She tried to struggle, but she inhaled chloroform that burned her nostrils and slowed her motor functions.

  “Take it easy,” Eddie said.

  Darkness crushed her as Eddie pushed her inside the van and she struck the cold metal floor.

  Mace, Norton, and Landry worked on laptops in the conference room. The cubicles in the squad room sat empty.

  “It’s quiet without those phones ringing,” Landry said.

  “No more crackpot calls,” Norton said.

  Mace drummed his fingers on the table. “Michalakis left virtually no trail from his arrival in Philadelphia until now.”

  “He’s a trained terrorist,” Landry said. “They’re good at that.”

  “Is he? Or is he a survivor of terrorist persecution? Don’t forget the Brotherhood of Torquemada hunted him, not the other way around.”

  “Sooner or later, the people hunted by terrorists make the decision to live normal lives or become terrorists themselves,” Norton said. “It’s a matter of survival.”

  “What’s the line between a terrorist and a freedom fighter, though? According to the FBI, the Brotherhood termed Michalakis’s group a cell, but it was the Brotherhood who took them out with a bomb, and we’ve labeled the Brotherhood a terrorist group. Can it be both ways?”

  “This wouldn’t be the first time the US has gotten caught between two groups and had to make that distinction.”

  “Our guest is here,” Landry said.

  Candice and Grant entered the squad room with Rice, who looked amused.

  Mace glanced at his watch, then picked up a remote and powered on the TV, which showed Mayor Branson speaking at his podium in the city hall press room, with the Manhattan Minute News logo glowing in the lower right-hand corner of the screen.

  “You two clear out,” Mace said. “He’ll speak more freely if I’m alone.”

  “You mean you actually expect to get something out of him?” Norton said. “I thought this was all for show.”

  “You never know.” Mace exited the conference room, and Norton and Landry gathered their laptops and followed him. “Hail the conquering hero,” Mace said to Carl. “I see you made the front pages today.”

  Carl grinned. “Did you see my byline in the Post?”

  “How could I miss it? But the Times only mentioned you on its editorial page. Rough words.”

  Carl’s smile tightened. “You can’t please everyone.” He glanced around the squad room. “Speaking of everyone, where is everyone? This place looks like Hitler’s bunker. I thought you’d be marshaling the forces.”

  “I told you our assignment is to investigate the Brother-hood of Torquemada. We’re not hunting Gomez or Michalakis.”

  “There’s that name again. He sure came out of nowhere. It couldn’t be that the department is trying to distract people from my story, could it?”

  “I don’t speak for the department; Craig Lindberg does. You can ask him when he gives his press briefing at noon.”

  “I plan to. Too bad I can’t be at the one the mayor’s giving right now.”

  “Oh, do you have credentials for that? Never mind.” Mace gestured at the conference room. “We can watch it together in here.”

  “You’re not my ideal date, but you’ll do.”

  “Why don’t you hang your coat up and stay awhile?”

  “Thanks, but I’m still cold from the chill outside.” Carl passed Mace and entered the conference room.

  Mace followed and closed the door.

  “I assume you get the laptop?” Carl said.

  “Good guess.”

  Carl sat near the door. Mace sat behind his laptop, picked up the remote for the TV, and raised the volume.

  “The story’s ridiculous, and I won’t dignify it with an answer,” Mayor Branson said. “Carl Rice isn’t even a real journalist, and Manhattan Minute News has damaged its reputation. The police department and the FBI are searching for two dangerous criminals right now, one of them Rodrigo Gomez, who escaped from Sing Sing Correctional Facility two nights ago, the other Elias Michalakis, who they believe has ties to the Brotherhood of Torquemada. An escaped serial killer and a possible terrorist are real monsters, and I don’t want anyone panicking over the wild horror tales of a desperate tabloid writer who has run out of material.”

  Mace muted the volume.

  Carl held his smile, but hurt lurked in his eyes. “You couldn’t have timed this sit-down better. The mayor and the governor must receive the same talking points from higher-ups.”

  “They’re crucifying you,” Mace said.

  “I bet you’re hammering the nails.”

  Mace sat back in his chair. “That isn’t true. I may not like your methods, and I have no lo
ve for the way you turned me into some cheap pulp hero, but I feel for you.”

  “Oh, really? I can’t tell you how much that means to me.”

  “I don’t want to see you get crushed like a cockroach.”

  “Is that what this meeting is about? You want to save me?”

  “Turn off your pocket recorder.”

  “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours first.”

  “We’re not recording this conversation. It’s just you and me, off the record.”

  “That’s no fun.” Carl took a digital recorder out of his pocket, set it on the table, and turned it off. “My recorder’s on the table. Why don’t you lay your cards next to it?”

  “Tell me what you were doing at that Korean deli.”

  “That’s confidential.”

  “Don’t make me invoke national security.”

  “Don’t make me laugh in your face.”

  “I need to know.”

  “Why?”

  “I want to make sure no one gets hurt who doesn’t deserve it.”

  “Tune in to MMN at six o’clock, and you’ll get your answer.”

  “You can do better than that.”

  Carl glanced over his shoulder at the squad room. “Where’s that detective who was Diega’s partner until he got killed?”

  Mace’s stomach tightened. “Karol Williams.”

  “That’s the one.”

  Mace tried not to show any emotion. “She’s a good cop.”

  Carl leaned forward. “Yes, but is she a good werewolf?”

  Mace knew the tension showed on his face now. “She’s a good woman.”

  “She’s one of them. She has to be. I followed her from here to that deli, all the way in the Bronx, and do you know what she did? She came out of there with lunch.”

  “Karol lives in the Bronx. Maybe that deli’s her favorite place.”

  “I was halfway back to Manhattan when I decided to turn around and see what was so special about that place. Do you know it didn’t open this morning?”

  “Maybe the owners took the day off because of bad publicity. Maybe they were afraid someone might do something crazy after your report, like shoot the place up with silver bullets.”

  “Or maybe they’re getting the hell out of Dodge before an angry mob shows up with torches, or an NYPD and FBI task force breaks down their door with warrants.”

  “Maybe Williams was there on assignment.”

  “That would be a neat wrinkle, but according to you, her assignment was filing paperwork on what went down in Newark.”

  “You can’t even prove she was there. She’s not in your footage.”

  “And I bet any security camera footage taken in that deli disappeared with that nice Korean couple. My mistake. But I can offer eyewitness testimony, and I’m going to. Werewolves in the city, werewolves in the NYPD. This adds a whole new level to police corruption, one the public will find worth exposing.”

  “You’re grasping at straws.”

  “I’m on a train that’s picking up speed, and I’m not letting it slow down. Williams is a big piece of the puzzle, and she leads straight to . . . you. How long have you known what she is?”

  Sitting straight, Mace drew in a breath. “I deny everything you just said.”

  “Of course you do. What choice do you have? You have to answer to the king, the queen, and the bishop. You probably think you’re a knight, but you have the most limited moves on the board.”

  Mace stared at the table for a moment, thinking, then looked up at Carl. “What if I give you something else? Will you hold off on dragging Williams into this for forty-eight hours?”

  Carl snorted. “It will have to be pretty big to top a werewolf with a gold shield.”

  Mace held the reporter’s gaze.

  “Twenty-four hours,” Carl said.

  “We didn’t pull Elias Michalakis out of thin air. He’s wanted all over Europe, and he’s in your footage.”

  “The FBI’s new favorite terrorist isn’t a member of the Brotherhood of Torquemada but a member of the werewolf pack?”

  “I don’t believe in werewolves, remember? But he’s on your footage.”

  “Where?”

  “Find him yourself. Then you can say you found him all on your own.”

  Carl grinned. “Not bad.”

  “It’s better than not bad. Everyone’s trying to discredit you, but the man they’re using to distract people only supports your case.”

  “Twenty-four hours,” Carl said.

  Twenty-Eight

  Mace led Carl out of the conference room. “Candice, you and Grant take Mr. Rice home. It’s not like we have patrol cars available to us.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll get home on my own,” Carl said. “I missed breakfast, and I want to pick up extra copies of the Post. Vanity is my deadly sin.” He winked at Norton and left.

  “Don’t let him out of your sight,” Mace said to Candice. “One of you follow him on foot, the other by car.”

  “You drive,” Candice said to Grant. “You stick out like a sore thumb with that stiff walk of yours.”

  “What do you mean?” Grant said as he followed her out.

  Landry and Norton came over to Mace.

  “Well?” Norton said.

  “He gave me nothing,” Mace said.

  “Does he believe we’re just doing follow-up work on the Torquemadans?”

  “Not a chance.” Mace went into his office and called Karol. She needed every minute she had to run.

  Her phone rang, and then an outgoing message came on. “Hi, this is Detective Williams. I can’t take your call right now, so please leave a message.”

  “Karol, this is Mace. Call me back right away. It’s important.” He hung up.

  Come on, goddamn it.

  Karol’s stomach somersaulted, and she groaned. The smell of grease and gasoline filled her nostrils, and she shivered.

  “Wake up, Karol.”

  Where the hell am I? She remembered going to her SUV and then . . .

  She opened her eyes. Raphael loomed over her, a high gray ceiling above him. She sat up on a sofa with bad springs, and her head swam. Dull sunlight shone through glass block windows in a mechanic’s garage stripped bare of tools but cluttered with garbage. Leon stood by the entrance, Eddie by the exit. Elias Michalakis lurked behind Raphael.

  “Where are we?” Karol said.

  “We’re still in the Bronx but on the other side of town.”

  She looked up at a skylight covered with grime. “What the hell do you want?”

  “Just to talk.”

  “You could have called. You didn’t have to kidnap me.”

  “You wouldn’t have listened.”

  “Nobody snatches a cop in broad daylight.”

  “So arrest us.” Raphael slid his hands into his pockets. “Nobody’s going to hurt you.”

  Karol snorted. “You got that right.”

  Elias moved beside Raphael. “Don’t overestimate yourself. There are four of us.”

  Karol sat back into the sofa. “Don’t pull this good cop, bad cop routine on me. I’ve played both roles too many times, and I’m running out of patience.”

  “We want information,” Raphael said. “You’re the only person who knows what’s really going on with the authorities.”

  “Why should I tell you anything?”

  “Because we’re Wolves like you.”

  “I share that information with Gabriel. If you want to be in the loop, ask him. I’m doing what I do for the good of the pack, and the last time I checked, you tore up your membership card.”

  “We’re all at risk now. We need to know what’s happening.”

  “What’s happening is that any of our people who can be tied to you, Gabriel, the Wilsons or the Lourdeses, and everyone who was in that meeting hall last night is heading for the hills because of your impulsive stupidity.”

  Raphael’s voice remained soft. “What’s done is done. Some of us plan to re
main in the city with the majority of the pack.”

  “Why, so you can lead it? You’re not ready for that, and if you stay, you jeopardize everyone else. You need a reality check, and you need to get away from people who only tell you what you want to hear.” She stood. “You’ll never be the leader your father was, and you’ll never be the leader your brother is. You’ll never lead anyone besides this motley outfit of yours.”

  “Who are you calling motley?” Leon said. “I hear you dogged a human. I call that sleeping with the enemy.”

  Karol moved closer to Raphael. “Congratulations, you’re the cock of the walk. This is some pack you’ve made for yourself.”

  Raphael’s features tightened. For a moment, Karol thought he intended to Change.

  “If you want to leave this room, tell us what you know,” he said in an even tone.

  “Or what? You’ll beat it out of me?”

  “Don’t doubt it,” Elias said.

  Raphael raised a hand to silence him, but his gaze stayed on Karol. “You don’t have time to waste here, and neither do we. You know it isn’t possible for me or Elias to go to Gabriel because we’re wanted just like he is.”

  “How do you know your flunkies weren’t seen abducting me? How do you know someone didn’t see their license plate or cameras didn’t track you? My other people could be heading here right now.”

  “All the more reason for you to cooperate. We have as much right to know what’s coming as the rest of the pack does. It’s to our mutual advantage that you tell us what you know.”

  Karol exhaled. Raphael was right. “The feds and the police are working together here in the city. I’m sure the FBI has its own operation running in addition to the task force I’m serving. The local government may be giving Rice’s story the brush-off but only to deflect attention while they try to capture you two, Gabriel, and Gomez. They want you alive, which says it all. We’ve been compiling a list of names by tracking the friends, families, and associates of the Wolves who have already been killed. A lot of our people are on it. I’ve been feeding those names to Gabriel. Except for you guys and Gabriel, everyone else in that video has left the country or is doing so now.”