by Ian Redman
The woman spoke again, “remember lone one, wherever you go, wherever you hunt, we will be watching you.”
As Piper looked on, the two wolves began to run towards him, their jaws slavering, gaping, ready to attack. Panic stricken, Piper quickly turned away, ready to run, but the blackness of the forest surrounded him, immersing him in fear.
There was no way out!
The woman spoke again, this time her tone more menacing, “you will join us…lone wolf!”
“NO,” yelled Piper, “NEVER!”
The woman’s voice screamed into his mind, “THEN YOU WILL DIE!”
Piper screamed in terror as the two large wolves fell upon him, leaping at his nakedness, tearing at his flesh! “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
“I made coffee and sandwiches, I hope you’re hungry.” With a seemingly pleasant smile on her face, Lana Franke sat on the luxurious cream coloured leather sofa as the open fire blazed welcomingly.
“Thank you Lana, yes I am hungry.” Otto Von Kurst sat down beside his beautiful mistress and stared into the flames, his gaze transfixed, his face sullen, his thoughts entwined with the dancing orange shafts of heat. The sheepskin rug was long gone! Too many memories he thought, far too many!
Lana slowly poured coffee and handed him a cup of the hot, steaming liquid. “A penny for them,” she whispered.
“What?” Von Kurst swiftly awoke from his seemingly trance like state.
“Your thoughts Otto, a penny for your thoughts, isn’t that how the old saying goes?” He smiled. “How is Helga?” he asked, softly.
“She is asleep, but I have to say,” Lana paused, then sighed, a look of quiet concern lying embedded in her eyes, “I will have to keep her sedated for some time, possibly for the duration of her visit here.”
“Is that necessary?” Von Kurst sounded genuinely alarmed.
Slowly, Lana put her cup down, leaned over and kissed her lover gently on the cheek. “I am afraid so my love. Like you, I fear for Helga’s sanity.”
Von Kurst’s eyes narrowed, his look now one of inquisitive mistrust, “and since when have you, my dear Lana, been so concerned about Helga’s well being?”
“I expected this, you don’t trust me anymore do you Otto?” Lana picked up her coffee and put the cup to her lips. She sighed again, quickly turning away from Von Kurst’s powerful gaze. Let’s see what your reply is to that my darling, she thought!
“Are you okay?” The winch man’s voice snapped through Piper’s helmet mounted Com-link, his mind and body hastily jolting back to reality. He looked around as the Sea King continued buffeting against the cold night air’s turbulence.
“Yes…I’m fine, thanks.”
“No problem…here,” smiling, the winch man held out a half filled plastic cup from his thermos flask, “it’s not much I’m afraid, but it’s good coffee.” Piper gratefully accepted the beverage and sipped slowly, revelling in its warmth and taste as he tried to return the winch man’s smile.
“Don’t play games with me Lana.”
“Oh, you can talk Otto, you lied to me didn’t you, WELL…DIDN’T YOU?”
Otto Von Kurst fell silent, so too did Lana Franke. She was right he thought, he had lied to her, the woman he…loved. “SHIT!” Von Kurst flung his cup at the fireplace, where it shattered into pieces. Lana looked shaken. “HE WILL DAMNED WELL PAY FOR THIS!” he shouted.
“Who will Otto, who will?” Ever so gently, Lana took Von Kurst in her arms, lowered his muscular form across the sofa and laid his head on her lap. She stroked his thick, silver grey hair from his forehead as her attractive face came down to his. “Relax my darling,” she whispered, “I am here. I will always be here for you!”
Von Kurst gazed up at his mistress. “It is time for explanations my love,” he whispered.
Tenderly, Lana lowered her head to meet Von Kurst’s lips, her tongue snaking towards his tonsils as her hand began unfastening the belt around his trousers. “Later,” the beautiful physician said softly, “much later.” Within seconds she was fondling him as passion began to kindle in Von Kurst’s loins, their desire growing stronger, their bodies entwining like writhing snakes. As if seething with sensual energy, Lana Franke sighed with lust and emotion. I’m not letting you go Otto, she thought, you are mine and always will be!
“Good morning officer.” The two tall, smartly dressed men smiled at the Metropolitan Police Constable as he patrolled the London street. He stopped, looked at his watch and spoke, “good morning, early start in the office then?”
“Yes, we’re just waiting for a friend to pick us up.”
“Enjoy your day.” The Constable smiled and walked on.
“Oh don’t worry Mister Policeman,” said one of the grenadiers, “we will.”
The second grenadier took a small notebook and pen from his inside jacket pocket, “this locality is ideal, not too busy for the time of day and hardly any police presence,” he whispered.
“Apart from that prick! Make a note, we can easily hide a device in this shop’s waste bin…okay…good, let’s continue our recon.”
“You look like shit!”
“Nick, I feel like shit!”
“Did you sleep on the flight back?” asked Jeanette Descard.
“I tried, but…” Ash Piper paused, his concentration momentarily deflected by the look of concern on Jeanette’s face, “it was difficult. God, I’m tired,” he muttered.
“We’re all tired Ash,” said Jean-Paul, “it’s been a long night!”
“It’s good to have you back Ash,” Nick smiled happily.
“Yes, it is good to have you back!”
Quickly and with a defiant look of anger, Piper turned around as Colonel Mann walked briskly towards him. “Thanks for shitting on me, Colonel!”
“It was a pleasure…Sergeant,” the Colonel’s smile and reply took everyone by surprise. “Now then,” he said, boldly, “let’s run through your de-briefing in the Commander’s office. Jeanette, if you please!”
Piper and Jeanette Descard followed Charles Mann towards Maurice Hertschell’s office. As they did, she whispered in his ear, “are you alright? I was worried sick.”
Piper looked at the alluring, caring woman at his side and smiled as they continued down the corridor. “I’m fine Jeanette, thanks for asking.” With a glint in her eyes, Jeanette returned the smile as they both prepared for a long and detailed meeting.
“I think this proposed March Against Immigrants is folly, utter folly,” the newspaper vendor in the busy Rotterdam street was not in a good mood, “there is enough trouble here already. This will only cause more rioting. It is a disgrace!”
“I totally agree! It will only cause chaos.” The stocky, some would say, tough looking man shook his head and sighed, “the police have to deal with such a lot nowadays, don’t they?” Gratefully accepting payment for the newspaper, the vendor nodded his head in reply. “Oh, look at this,” said the man, brusquely slapping his hand across the newspapers front page, “would you believe it? They have even printed the full route for the march on the front page.”
“I know,” the vendor sounded disgusted, “making life a lot easier if those damned terrorists want to plant another bomb or two, hey?”
The tall man nodded his head. “I agree,” he muttered, “it will make life…a lot easier.”
“So there you have it my love…the truth!” Otto Von Kurst sat back on the sofa as he gazed tenderly at Lana Franke. “My apologies for withholding the facts Lana, I thought it was for the best.” Lana Franke didn’t speak! Instead, she just stared vacantly into the dying embers of the fire as Von Kurst waited for a reply, her fists clenched tight with emotion…and vile hatred. “Helga would have died Lana,” Von Kurst continued, “it’s as simple as that. And of course…” Von Kurst paused as his mistress turned her head and gazed longingly into his eyes, “…at the time, I was deeply in love with her.”
“Are you deeply in love with her now?” Lana’s voice lay tainted with bitterness.
Von Kurst shook his head, “no.”
“Look me in the eyes and say that, Otto.” He did so, but the look in her lover’s eyes thought Lana, was somehow, slightly menacing and certainly distant.
“No!”
Lana sighed, her fists still clenched, “so your blood… the Were’s blood, runs through ‘her’ veins?”
Instantly, Von Kurst noticed the increased vehemence in Lana’s voice. “Yes,” he replied.
“I am finding this so hard to believe Otto. After all the wonderful years we have spent together, now you begin to destroy my life with this…this bombshell.”
Without thinking, Von Kurst grabbed Lana’s arm and pulled her towards him, his face contorted, angry. “I AM NOT DESTROYING YOUR LIFE LANA,” he yelled savagely, “I STILL LOVE YOU!”
The ferocity of his reply surprised her. She smiled, “I believe you my love, I believe you.” Their lips met again as they kissed, longingly, lovingly. But at the same time, Otto Von Kurst’s thoughts crossed to the bedroom were Helga Zeist lay heavily sedated.
The jogger took his time. There was no rush; the area had been mapped out perfectly. As he ran quietly through the Paris suburb he began making mental notes regarding people, locations and possible police presence. Now and again he would stop, panting for breath, pretending to be very unfit. To the untrained eye he acted out his role perfectly.
To the trained eye, he looked very fit indeed.
Every time he stopped and panted, the jogger pulled a small notebook and pen from the pocket in his shorts and made quick, detailed notes regarding his surroundings. He smiled again. Another perfect location he thought, right in the middle of the route itself. Hastily finishing his notes, the jogger continued on his way.
“The facts are there for all of us to see, and by now Sergeant Piper has stirred up a hornet’s nest.” Maurice Hertschell, the Commander in Chief of CEATA sat straight and proud behind his desk.
“How is the man you brought in?” asked Jeanette.
“In shock,” said Piper.
“That’s understandable.”
“He’s above ground, with SHAPE’s medical staff. Unfortunately he’s in no fit state to talk to us. We’ll just have to be patient.”
“So Sergeant, how are you feeling?” Maurice Hertschell had a glint in his eyes.
“Pissed off!”
“Oh, why is that?” Hertschell’s voice was calm and calculating as he glanced over at Colonel Mann.
“Your timing for the experiment was perfect…sir!” Piper said, sarcastically.
“DON’T BE IMPERTINANT SERGEANT!” shouted the Colonel.
The Commander held up his hand, “it’s alright Charles, Sergeant Piper has a right to feel angry.”
“I don’t like the thought of being used as a guinea pig…sir!” Again, Piper’s tone of voice was fiery, Jeanette Descard watching the heated exchange carefully, almost…clinically.
“Sergeant,” continued Hertschell, “you knew the experiment was coming, didn’t you?”
Piper’s blue and amber eyes bored into those of CEATA’s Commander in Chief, “yes sir, I did.”
“And you knew it would involve bloodshed?”
Piper nodded his head.
“THEN DON’T GIVE ME ANY MORE OF YOUR SELF RIGHTEOUS, SANCTIMONEOUS BULLSHIT!” Commander Maurice Hertschell was in no mood for sentiment, as Piper instantly realised. “WE ARE AT WAR SERGEANT PIPER, AND THIS WAR IS ALREADY ESCALATING!”
“I understand sir,” said Piper, his eyes still fixed rigidly on the Commander.
“No you don’t Ash,” Colonel Mann continued the strained conversation, “whilst you were in the field, our staff have been monitoring various news reports. Riots are erupting in many cities and towns across Europe. Muslim families in particular are being targeted for retribution after these wretched bombings, and on Sunday these damned Marches Against Immigrants are taking place.” The Colonel sighed, “it’s only a matter of time before the European Muslim Freedom Fighters strike again.”
“We had to test you Sergeant and quickly,” Commander Hertschell’s tone had relaxed somewhat.
Piper kept silent. Let them do the talking he thought, at least for the moment.
“Twenty three men, torn to pieces and yet…” the glint in the Commander’s eyes had returned, “one survived…why was that?”
“The man could be useful to us sir, it seemed prudent to bring him in for questioning.”
“And who made that decision, Sergeant?”
The office fell silent, Piper’s mind was racing. “I did sir…obviously.”
“Obviously?”
“I…the wolf did…sir!”
“Exactly Sergeant Piper, the wolf did…you, as the wolf, made that distinct and very important decision.”
Again, Piper nodded, seemingly knowing what the Commander was coming to.
“Ash,” the Colonel interrupted, “out there, on the battlefield, you proved two very important points to the Commander and I. Namely, in wolf form, you fight skilfully and with lethal efficiency, without a trace of mercy for your enemies, and, most importantly Sergeant, you now control…the wolf inside you!”
“Yes, several locations have been acquired Herr Scharfuhrer. The proximity of the blasts will cause chaos. Yes…the café is very close to the route itself…yes…three further locations are also being utilised…very well, closing communication.” With an impish grin the man with the mobile phone turned to his companion. “Well,” he said, “let’s get something to eat shall we?”
His friend smiled in return as they walked across the road to the bustling café in downtown Munich. “The meals here are actually very good.”
“I know. It’s just a pity the place won’t be here after Sunday morning.” Icily, with not a hint of emotion, the two grenadiers began to laugh.
“So tell me about him Otto, this man who…supposedly, will kill you?” Lana Franke was tired, they both were, but she was also very concerned. It had been a long night and the exertions of the couple’s lovemaking had exhausted them both.
Otto Von Kurst lay once again in his bed, a single, thin sheet covering his muscular form as Lana, snugly lying beside him, placed a kiss gently on his forehead.
“The Were I see is a military man, young and strong.” Von Kurst paused his conversation, the look in his eyes telling of troubled thoughts, “he will not accept our world, at least for the moment.”
“So you see him in your dreams?”
“I don’t just see him my love, I communicate with him, and…” Suddenly, Von Kurst sat bolt upright, stood up and with a sense of urgency, reached for his clothing, “…I need to get dressed! Lana, you check on Helga then go and catch up on some sleep. I must see Claude.”
“Otto,” Lana stood up, her divine nakedness making Von Kurst smile with desire, but something was wrong. “What were you going to say, just then, before you …oh god,” she took a step back, “your eyes Otto, they’ve become so bloodshot!”
Von Kurst finished dressing, walked over to Lana and kissed her. “Earlier, in my dreamscape, I sensed him in the Warehouse and he sensed me! I actually knew he was infiltrating the facility!”
“So?”
“The psychic link between the two of us is growing stronger. I have been foolish in underestimating him, SO DAMNED FOOLISH” Von Kurst walked briskly to the door. “I am wasting time! I have to see Claude, the grenadiers are ready to strike again. THE CHAOS WILL AND MUST CONTINUE!”
“Otto, this man, this lone wolf…”
“YES!” Von Kurst was in a rush, no more questions he thought, not now.
“What did you really see…just then? Answer me, and no more secrets!”
“Very soon Lana, he and I will come face to face.”
“And what then?” Cold apprehension ran through Lana’s veins, turning her blood to ice. She shivered.
“What then? Pain, he will suffer a great deal of pain, and you my dear Lana,” Von Kurst’s lips creased into a wicked smile, “wi
ll be instrumental in his suffering.”
Commander Maurice Hertschell looked down at the wad of papers on his desk, “let’s run through these facts again Sergeant!” CEATA’s Commander in Chief looked across at Colonel Mann then Jeanette Descard who had just finished hurriedly typing on her Laptop, his gaze then returning to Ash Piper. “If you please…”
“Yes sir. To start with, we have a suspect with a birthmark under his right jaw,” began Piper, “with close links to a company whose Managing Director’s father was a major in the Waffen SS Totenkopf division.” He paused then continued, “a warehouse facility that’s crawling with armed security guards, the stockpiling of weapons, namely modified MP44s being delivered under cover of darkness in a HGV from St Petersburg…” Piper looked around! All eyes were on him, their scrutiny intense, “…the crates of which are impervious to x-ray scanning, even by satellite. Then we have the presence of an armed Eurocopter Tiger attached to our suspect’s security operations.”
“Jeanette, what are your thoughts on this evidence? You mentioned to me earlier how you think the Russian Foreign Intelligence Service and Mafia may be involved in this series of events, why?” Commander Hertschell was intrigued.
“Think about it Commander! We have viewed the Rostov video footage and the werewolf in that footage. Now we have evidence of murders recently committed with brutal similarity in St Petersburg, the blame apparently being linked…to the Russian Mafia. Then, as Sergeant Piper has reported, we have the modifying and delivery of weapons in crates which are impervious to x-ray scans, these same crates being delivered…from St Petersburg.”
“With not a hint of detection at customs,” interrupted Piper.
“Yes, go on,” said the Commander.