The Lure of the Pack (18 page)

“Good for you Tim, when do you leave for Moscow?”

Was there a hint of sadness in Piper’s voice, thought
Winters? “Tomorrow morning, 03.00 hours, that’s why I’ve called in now, I
probably won’t get a chance to see you later.”

Piper put his newspaper down, the headlines being full of
the recent atrocities by the European Muslim Freedom Fighters. He got up from
his bed and held out his hand, “Tim, just promise me one thing will you?”

Winters returned the gesture, they both shook warmly,
“what’s that Ash?”

“You just make sure you look after yourself!”

“I will, that’s a promise.” Just for a few seconds there was
silence, then Winters spoke again, “what’s troubling you?”

Piper sat down; there was a curious look in his blue and
amber eyes. “We are two soldiers fighting on different fronts, but in the same
war and for the same cause!” Winters looked on, his expression openly
inquisitive. “The war we are fighting Tim, you in Moscow and me hopefully soon,
in Dusseldorf,” now there was a hint of anger on Piper’s face, “there is a connection,
I’m sure of it!”

“I know Ash! We think the same, that’s what I’ve been
discussing with the Commander and Colonel. I hate to say this, but I can’t help
feeling that we’re being drawn into something sinister, something evil.”

“I know what you mean Tim. The stakes are high, far higher
than we could ever imagine. There’s a pack of them out there, a pack of
werewolves, of my kind and they’re hell bent on destruction and chaos. I can
sense them…and they can sense me.” 

Winters nodded, “why did you never mention it…the wolf, the
attack when you were a boy?”

“There was no need to, no need whatsoever!”

“You know Ash, back with the Paras, all the lads in the
regiment thought your eyes were so freaky. I mean, amber and blue…of course,
now I know why!”

“Obviously the Commander and Colonel have told you all about
me?”

“Yes, although I’m still finding it hard to believe! Shit,
fucking werewolves!” Slowly, Winters made his way to the door, “well, I’d best
get packed and get some sleep. I’ll see you soon mate, all the best!”

Piper quickly strode over to Winters and gripped his
shoulder. It was a powerful grip, speaking of emotion and long lasting
friendship. “Tim, for God’s sake watch your back and trust no one, promise me!”

“No problem my friend, no problem.” They shook hands again,
then Winters closed the door behind him. At the same time Ash Piper clenched
his fists and grimaced as the hairs on the back of his neck slowly started to
stiffen.

Even in his world of self opinionated, egotistical glory,
Wilhelm Oratz had to admit that the taste enveloping his tongue was quite
exquisite. He closed his eyes as he savoured the fresh Kamchatka crab, in
Butter Sauce a la Russe. If it was one thing the Sales Director of Von Kurst
Electronics greatly enjoyed in life, it was fine food.

“Ah, a look of pure delight Wilhelm, but sadly, still no
smile, HA!” Vitali Menkov gazed down at the two large pieces of blood drenched
venison loin on the plate in front of him. “Wonderful,” he whispered.
Eloquently, Menkov cut through the tender flesh, a low growl emanating from his
throat as Oratz quickly looked around at the other guests in the restaurant,
all of whom seemed to be enjoying their own conversation. “Tell me Wilhelm,
does my wolf form worry you?” asked Menkov, taking his first bite of the rare,
bloody deer meat.

“No, of course not, with being so close to Otto I am well
accustomed to the Were, besides, don’t try and change the subject! I want to
know exactly what happened in Rostov!”

Menkov chewed thoughtfully, his mind wandering back to the
dark house on Sorev Street. He smiled, “the fucking idiots,” Oratz looked on in
keen fascination, “how I enjoyed playing with them all!”

“What do you mean?”

Menkov held up his right hand, his sharp knife dripping
blood down its silver blade. It was a gesture to warn his German friend to be
patient, for now he was relishing the thought of the slaughter he had initiated
that cold September evening. “The police had me cornered, or so they thought!
Ha, fools! Yes, we have the Rostov Ripper at last…so, what did they do, they
sent three men in, after me. Ha!” Menkov took another mouthful of venison, yet
again administering his sense of taste to its bloody texture with another low
growl, “of course I had killed the family, they were easy prey. How they all
screamed as I tore their bodies apart!” Oratz’s gaze was held in wonderment by
that of the man sitting opposite him, the man relishing the merciless, wanton
slaughter of human kind. “But the best was yet to come, my dear Wilhelm!”

“You killed police officers?”

“Oh yes my friend, and spread their bodies and their blood
all over the kitchen. The hunger inside me was so dynamic, their meat and bone
marrow, so…exquisite!”

“And…”

“Then ‘they’ arrived, by helicopter…”

Oratz stopped eating, a troubled look sat firmly on his pale
face, “who…arrived by helicopter?”

Menkov chewed again as he leaned forward, piercing Wilhelm
Oratz’s very soul with a look of intense emotion, “the fucking Spetsnaz team,”
he whispered.

“God…” Oratz swallowed hard on a piece of crab, lifted his
glass and drank quickly.

“They were so confident, so pig-headed, our armed forces
specialist commandos. HA! All armed…to the teeth, so to speak…” Menkov’s dry
wit was wasted on Oratz whose thoughts were lost in the scenes being described
to him. The Russian took another bite of venison, mopping a slight trickle of
blood from under his chin with a napkin. “So…they broke into the house. How
they must have shit themselves at the scenes confronting them, I could almost
taste their fear. They knew I was in the master bedroom, so they moved up the
stairs. I started to growl, just a low growl at first, oh the joys of being…A
GOD!”

“Vitali,” Oratz snapped out of his trance like state, once
again Menkov’s voice was too loud! “What did I tell you, keep your voice down!”

Menkov continued, his tone much lower, “I slaughtered
several of them in the house, then smashed my way out. They gave chase, with a
TASS news team right behind them.”

“What…oh shit!”

“Wait Wilhelm, I have not finished!” Oratz nodded in stupefied
compliance. “The TASS Cameraman did film me, yes, he must have. But after a
thoroughly enjoyable chase, I lured them all to their deaths. Ha! These soldier
boys think they are so fucking invincible. I finished them off far too easily
in a back alley, then slipped out of sight as the police arrived.” Another
slice of venison slithered down Menkov’s throat as he gripped his glass of
water. He growled again, a narrow smile etching its way across his face. 

“Fuck!” Wilhelm Oratz was concerned.

“The Were are Gods, Wilhelm. We are not mere human beings.
Otto knows this, so do Falck and Kempler, this is why they prefer their wild
forms. Oh, how I enjoyed their company when Karl introduced me to them…all
those years ago!”

“I see,” Oratz finished the crab and put his eating utensils
to the side of the plate. Menkov did the same. “It is strange Vitali, the way
you talk of being a God. Otto would not approve of this and I don’t think Falck
and Kempler would, either.”

Vitali Menkov raised his near empty glass, his index finger
pointing at his German friend. “Wilhelm, you are wrong. Otto knows how powerful
we are, but I fear he is becoming like his father. The wolf inside him needs to
kill!” Menkov shook his head and sighed, “no my friend, the Were are gods! We
are…unbeatable!” He drank again, put the glass down and looked across the
restaurant toward Viktor. He nodded his head as the Maitre d’ walked slowly
over to them, his smile as always, ever present. “Now Wilhelm, before our main
point of discussion, tell me about the new alpha female of our pack?”

Wilhelm Oratz’s mouth fell open as Viktor arrived at the
table, removed the empty plates and ordered further drinks for his VIP
customers.

“Vitali Menkov, of ‘Menkov and Co’, a legitimate businessman
based in St Petersburg, formerly from Rostov.” Nick Lucas wore his usual bright
smile as he looked around at his colleagues in Commander Hertschell’s office.
“There’s not a great deal on the file from the FSB sir, but they have confirmed
their interest in monitoring the man’s activities, which they have been doing
for some time! It seems he may have links, or so the FSB are trying to prove,
with the Russian Mafia!”

“He’s always one step ahead of them, Maurice,” Colonel Mann
had already scanned through the file of one of Russia’s so called, finest
entrepreneurs, “he deals on an advisory basis with many large, important
foreign companies seeking business interests within the Russian Federation.”

“I wonder if he gives advice on weapons manufacturing?”
Jeanette Descard had a mischievous glint in her eye.

“Apparently,” continued the Colonel, “he is a very
professional and successful businessman, however, there is one interesting
aspect about our Mister Menkov that greatly troubles me. I’m sure Sergeant
Piper will share my view, once he has finished reading his copy of the
dossier.”

All eyes turned to Piper as he continued scanning the file
in his hands. “I don’t believe it,” he said in a hushed tone.

“Yes, interesting, hey Ash?”

Commander Hertschell, Jeanette and Nick all knew what
Colonel Mann meant and now Piper looked greatly concerned. “Vitali Menkov! Born
17 March 1962 in Volgograd. Moved to Rostov to work in engineering, aged
twenty-one. Moved to St Petersburg in October 2001, where he founded ‘Menkov
and Co, Business Investment Services’. Physical appearance, strong with an
athletic build, height six foot three inches, dark hair, eye colours…right eye
brown, left eye…” Piper gazed quickly at the Colonel, “…amber!”

“So, Otto gave his blood willingly, freely, to this…Zeist
woman?”

“Helga Zeist, his personal secretary, yes, he saved her life
in doing so.” The main course was as delicious as the appetizers, with Wilhelm
Oratz savouring the delightful flavour of the Beef Fillet Stroganoff, his taste
buds revelling in the delicious aroma of a true Russian speciality. Menkov too,
with his extra large steak, swimming in its own blood, grilled for five seconds
only…‘blue’…with no extras. They ate slowly, both giving thought to their
in-depth conversation.

“So what of Otto’s lover, this Doctor woman?”

“Lana fucking Franke!” A piece of chewed mushroom fell from
Oratz’s mouth as he spat out the name of Otto Von Kurst’s mistress.

“Yes…Lana Franke. I get the distinct impression you do not
like this woman Wilhelm,” Menkov laughed heartily, “then again, is there any
woman you like, HA?”

Oratz continued savouring his dinner. “Lana Franke has too
much control over Otto, I would quite happily put a bullet through her fucking
brain if I could, believe me!”

Menkov looked shocked, “what do you mean, too much control
over Otto?”

“She plays games with him, sexual games. He is addicted to
their sado masochistic relationship, although…I must admit…” just for a few
seconds Oratz gazed vacantly at Menkov, as if he was looking straight through
his friend, “…I think the situation between Otto and Lana is changing. Yes, I’m
sure it is!”

“So am I!”

Menkov’s words brought Oratz out of his hateful state of
mind. “Excuse me, Vitali,” he mumbled, “what did you say?”

“So am I…the situation between Otto and these two women is
changing, I can sense it. This Helga Zeist woman, she grows stronger by the
day, the feeling of the hunt is beginning to course through her veins, she must
be allowed to kill…and soon!”

Oratz nodded and spoke again, “Otto already knows this, he
is greatly concerned over Helga’s development. Her metabolic rate of change is
far too rapid; her personality is shifting a great deal.”

“I know, I have heard her in the white mist!”

“White mist?”

“Yes my friend, the Were’s dream state. I call it the white
mist, all my kind’s contact through our dreamscape is shrouded in a white mist.
She has called to me; she calls to all of us. She is becoming very,
very…powerful!”

“Otto has asked Falck and Kempler to accompany Helga on the
hunt, to teach her the ways of the kill.”

“Mmm,” Menkov chewed slowly on his steak, his eyes giving
evidence to uneasy thoughts running through his mind, “something is happening
Wilhelm, something is being planned, Falck and Kempler are moving towards
Dusseldorf. They will kill again…very soon!”

Oratz stopped eating. “How do you know this?” he whispered.

“Otto has contacted them; I saw them in my dreams. This week
will bring about the downfall of the lone wolf, you will be told soon enough,
upon your return to Dusseldorf. Yes…Otto is planning something and I feel the
Franke woman will play a major role in this. This will also help me a great
deal.”

“Oh?”

Menkov sat back. “Yes,” he said, “the threat from the lone
wolf not only affects you my friend, for he and his colleagues are a threat to
me also!”

The two hours of sleep had done CEATA Field Agent 038 the
world of good. As the fresh aroma of strong English tea indulged Ash Piper’s
senses he lightly pressed the keypad at the side of the main doorway to CEATA’s
Communications Room. As usual, the heart of the Central European Anti Terrorism
Agency was a hive of activity, with uniformed staff monitoring various screens
relaying information regarding the whereabouts and activities of their field
agents. “Any news?”

“Hey…oh, hi Ash,” Nick Lucas didn’t look up; he was now
fully accustomed to Piper suddenly appearing by the side of him, as if out of
nowhere. “No, nothing, Oratz is still with Menkov at the Grand Hotel Europe,
and believe me, it is…GRAND! Jean-Paul and I had a look at the hotel’s website;
it’s very plush and expensive.”