August of 2011
The mission: Take down an American Corporation with the assistance of the MI-5. American Corp has been illegally funding Rwanda Rebels.
I should have suspected something was amiss when Fehr from MI-5 showed up with his whole pack. He said they were along all hush-like because this mission smelled tainted. I had learned to trust his instincts and experience as he had 10 years on me in this line of work. His team consisted of his pack, two men from France, one from Australia, and some woman with a knack for technology. All shifters. I remember him grinning at my discomfort about working with strangers. "They won't bite you." he grinned a wolfish grin at me. "Not unless you want them to."
We all had our roles in this mission. We were to get in, eliminate threats along the way, exterminate the head of the Corporation, and blow the building leaving no traces. We've done this before, but not with so large a team. I am used to quick in and quick out. This had to involve bringing the whole building and system down and covering tracks. More complicated and more "impossible" so to speak.
Someone knew we were coming. Someone knew what we were in advance. Someone fucking knew who we were by code and name. It was a trap... neatly laid for us.
The fight didn't happen till the charges were set and the timers going. As we moved through the complex, shadows stepped from every reflective surface. Fehr had told me about the Wyrm from the Umbra... but I never thought I would see it like this. The stench that I now know as TAINT will never leave me. My feline agility kept me free of the fight and moving to my target. Fehr close behind me as my backup. We were ambushed. He yelled and snarled and fought. We both did, abandoning our human forms for whatever would best keep us alive. "Finish the job!!" he yelled as he sacrificed his safety to buy me enough time to get through. I wasted nothing. the clocks ticked onward below.
The office was surprisingly sparse and quiet when I entered it. Not sure what I had expected. But it wasn't the pristine simplicity of this considering the raging dark demonic mess happen on the other side of the doors. There were no mirrors in here, nothing reflective. If the feel were not so contemporary American, I would have said it was Zen. The huge chair swiveled smoothly to reveal the head of the corporation. A tall dark-skinned woman placed a stunning though large klaive on the empty desk. "Silent Strider, how amusing this code name of yours, a leopard named for a wolf. I think I will call you Jake Adams. Jake Adams, would you like to know a secret?" I saw clearly now on her bare forearm the distinctive mark of those Fehr had warned me about. Black Spiral Dancers. At the mention of a secret, I stilled my hands with the small metal throwing dagger in my right hand.
"Please sit, this is a very important tale for you... and for me."
I sat, thinking about the old adage. Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought her back.
I really hoped this was not the end for me.
She spun me such a tale. She had been from another tribe, but sought more and when she lost honor from her tribe in Chicago, she had joined the Black Spirals. He name was GorraPawz. She declared her dissatisfaction with her choice. She had tried to leave the Black Spirals, but her tribe would not have her back. She fought hard to reclaim what was hers as she fondled the klaive. But once she had it, she still felt no satisfaction. Now, she sought redemption. She wanted me to take the blade and find it a knew and worthy owner. Then bade me finish what I had come to do, asking only that I be swift. Her sentence was barely finished, breath hanging in the air, as I released my tension and threw my dagger true. I watched as her life ebbed out. It was an honorable death by any Garou standards. And damn me, I am an honorable man.
I picked up the klaive and checked my watch. Almost out of time. SHIT! Not enough to get off the complex premises. I ran. My comms gave no calls and no responses. It had been a blood bath through the whole building. I almost stumbled when I saw Fehr. Not a soul down any corridors. I called again on the comm for any of the team members to respond. Nothing. I ran from one scene of horror to the next. My kills were never messy, never like this. Not even the worst of war-zones look like this. My stomach wanted to eject the meager snack I had before the mission. Fehr... and his whole pack... every last one of them... of us... were gone. The first explosion sounded below and I ran faster. There would be time later to grieve. There should be a chopper waiting.
I am not sure what happened next in my near blind run for an exit. Fire. Exploding walls. Stone. Debris. Bodies. Blood. Lights. Flashing. Alarms. Darkness. Pain. Screaming. A loud thumping that pulled me back to life and deafened me. I think I cried out for Fehr. I wanted to go back. My heart tore inside me to find him and save him as he had so often saved me. But he was dead. They held me down shouting he was gone. I wanted to at least bury him... not leave his body in that hell of taint. I was a screaming hysterical mess.
I never got to tell him so many things. I never got to tell him how much I appreciated his friendship, how honored I was for welcoming me among his pack, how much I valued his friendship above all others. I had wanted to tell him I loved him. Even if he would have laughed and told me he was not interested, I wish I had done it before the mission when I noted the concern in his eyes about the dangers of this mission. None of us should have survived. None of us. Why did I? What did I do wrong? No... I knew. I sat to listen to a secret like a civilized man while he died outside the door. I should have killed her and ran to his aid. That klaive in my hand... I wanted to stab it deep in my own chest. somehow, it would not let me.
The CIA patched me up and gave me leave for a year to heal and sort my shit out. A year. The woulds on my body might heal and did. They left scars. The wounds on my soul forever ache. The nightmares of that mission are with me always, especially on my Yava night as I call it. I have learned to try to stay awake through that night. The nightmares are bad enough at other times.
I swore to Fehr's spirit that I would live on, be strong, and honor his pack's traditions... no matter how much I hurt inside. Logic told me that would all dull and that I must train myself back to form.
However, the world changed while I was healing in my safehouse.
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