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September 11th, 2015

Boston, Massachussets

"It's a goddamned bloodbath," Le Hound, known by some as Jack O'Leary, grumbled as he threw a case file, carefully prepared and containing as much information as Jack could gather, onto Alpha's desk with a loud thud. Alpha, who had been intently staring at his computer screen, jumped at the sound. With a look of both interest and dread, he picked up the file and flipped through it, laughing grimly.

"Jesus, 563 dead in two days? And we were really trusting these guys to watch our backs?"

Alpha threw the file back on the file back on the desk, then turned to his computer screen, confusing Jack.

"What the hell you doing?"

Alpha rotated the computer screen to show a series of first-person views of the safehouse, each appearing to move on a patrol.

"I've reactivated the cameras on the guard's masks. If they start getting picked off, we'll have the chance to get out of here fast."

Jack nodded before continuing his report, taking the file back and flipping through it.

"These attacks are fast, well-organized, and devastating without causing too much collateral damage."

Jack looked up from the file to make direct eye contact with Alpha, and they both said their suspected culprit in unison.

"OV."

Alpha chuckled, then added, "So I guess your Red Hood is still getting work."

Jack stared at Alpha, confused.

"What?"

"The Red Hood? From Batman? You really don't-" Alpha sighed, then gestured for Jack to continue.

"Forget it."

Jack hesitated for a moment, utterly confused, then continued, "I don't think OV is alone on this, since some of these hits are coming from UCC and Viper territory."

Massaging his temples, Alpha groaned, then mumbled, "So everyone who hates us is slaughtering the one person who doesn't? Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant." Jack paused to consider this, then replied, "I don't think they're coming for us. At least, not yet."

Alpha shook his head angrily and stood up from his desk, giving him a chance to look eye-to-eye with Jack.

"Oh, they're coming for us. It never fucking fails that everything in this goddamned criminal shitbed ends with us getting our asses kicked."

He tapped on the file, which was still open in Jack's hands.

"Way I see it, we should move on the Suns now. Get in on the action, rack some kills, maybe even take Eddie and C-Dog's heads. That way, they'll know we're on the right side of things."

Jack blinked several times in visible shock, trying to process Alpha's plan, before taking a step back.

"You out of your goddamn mind? We're already on the right side. I mean, we helped out Nikolai, and we've been laying low since we took on the Pythons and I-" Jack jammed a thumb into his chest, "-made sure there were no hard feelings between Grant and the Wolves after that shitshow. You really think backstabbing Vulcan will make them like us any more?"

Alpha slammed his fist on his desk.

"It's better than sitting here and waiting for them to come and kill us! The best chance we got is if I, who is in charge and not you, lead us to war."

Jack shook his head and pointed a finger accusingly at Alpha, "You may be in charge, but none of these guys respect you. They've been looking up to me since you bailed for London, and I said there was gonna be peace. I'll die before I let 'em get slaughtered again!"

His face red, Jack, grumbling to himself, stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind him, and headed to his car. The Wolves on duty shared nervous looks. Jack was the cool-headed one, and if he was pissed, it wasn't a good sign.

Alpha sat in his chair, fuming to himself, then he poured himself a drink. The nerve of Jack to disrespect him like that. Rambling about respect and watching out for people, like Alpha hadn't worked his ass off to turn this lowly street gang into something worth following. Ever since the meeting with Greaves, Jack had gotten more and more full of himself, and it had become clear that a decision had to be made about Alpha's (formerly) most-trusted lieutenant.

Opening his email, he flipped back to one titled "Jack/Vulcan". Sent to him by Adreana, it contained a series of communications between Jack and Eddie Brooksford, who would almost certainly be dead by the end of the week. When she had been asked to hack Jack's email, Adreana, one of his most loyal followers, barely blinked before agreeing. Alpha smiled smugly at the memory.

"So much for respect, Jack."

Alpha smile vanished as he read the email, which contained a conversation between Jack and Vulcan after the Western War.

V: Why do you follow Alpha? He's poison and cares nothing about his brothers. H: Alpha's in charge, and I'm not betraying him just because you don't like him. At least, as long as the men stick with him. V: The moment he turns on his brothers, you need to put him down. H: I'll keep it in mind.

"Keep it in mind? You fucking traitor."

With a roar, Alpha hurled his glass against the door, shattering it. Alpha had suspected that Jack and Greaves were plotting, but this confirmed his suspicions. There had been a day where he wouldn't have wanted to make this call, but now he had no regrets. Picking up his cellphone, Alpha dialed a number and waited for a response.

There were three long rings, then Robert Warwick, leader of the Pack assassination squad ever since the death of Phillip Caiphas, answered.

"Robert, I require the assistance of the Pack for a personal bit of business."

Robert sounded curious as he replied, "Well, Alpha, what could that be?"

Alpha paused for a moment, then answered, sadly, "My once trusted advisor. Le Hound has betrayed us. I have evidence he was planning a coup."

"That piece of shit." Robert growled. "We'll have his head on your desk by tonight. Give me a location."

Alpha smiled, then said, "I'll send it to you in a few minutes. Please, be discrete."


Later that night...

Warwick surveyed his crew as they drove up to Jack's safehouse, a home away from his home in New York. Jack was apparently a family man, as none of his guards ever said anything about whores or drugs coming through, which made it sound utterly boring. Annoyingly, neither of the Draper brothers, usually his top men, came along, citing "moral differences" with the hit, meaning he had to have some of the lesser crew watching his back.

Well, the lesser crew and La Coyote, who was apparently tagging along at Alpha's behest.

Coyote sat on a nearby rooftop, watching as the van pulled up to the safehouse. It was during a rotation, so the front-end guards wouldn't be here for another 15 minutes. Her mission was simple. Eliminate the guards that were located on the rooftop and near windows, giving Warwick's team a clear window to kill Jack.

She scoffed at Warwick's commands in her earpiece. There had been a time when he had been subordinate to Phillip Caiphas, but Phillip was gone now. Personally, she disliked Warwick, finding him sleazy and opportunistic, an old-school member of the Wolves who stayed on to ensure he stayed alive.

Unlike Jack...

Coyote frowned as Warwick's men stepped out of the car, thinking back on when Jack visited her in the hospital after what Muneca and the Thieves did to her. Alpha rarely came in, blaming his confinement to London, but Jack? He stopped by at least once a week. Every week, Jack came in and reassured her that everything would be alright, and that she had to keep her faith, to keep her dream of the Wolves going and maybe it would come true. And now, here she was, about to kill him for disloyalty.

As she lined up her first shot, she cursed.

"Fuck the Wolves."

She pulled the trigger, and one of Warwick's men went down in the back alley. Before the men near the front door could react, she put a round through each of their heads. Cursing, Warwick took cover behind the van, poking his head out to search for new cover.

"Coyote? You bitch! Alpha's gonna-"

Warwick's empty threat ended after a round blew his head clean off. She could see the new guards pulling up just as Warwick's body hit the ground. Jack would find the bodies, and that would be that. Coyote packed up her rifle, slung it over her shoulder, and climbed down the fire escape just as the alarm was being sounded. After years of following instructions, she was her own woman now.


Jack stood on the sidewalk, jaw open in shock, as his men carried the bodies of Warwick and his Hunters inside to dispose of. Theo, hands on his hips, stood by Jack and surveyed the clean-ups. 

"Yeah, going from the general timing, this probably wasn't a social call." 

Jack ignored him and crouched down to look at the shell casings they had found by the van. These looked like sniper rounds, and Jack only knew one sniper who Alpha would've trusted on this. If Coyote hadn't already left, he'd give her the most gracious thank you possible. 

When Adreana told him that she had been ordered to hack his email, Jack had figured Alpha was losing it, but he hadn't suspected he'd put a hit out on him. Theo watched him investigate the scene and awkwardly asked, "So, uh, what's the plan now?" 

Jack hung his head and simply replied, "War."

Casualties:

  • Alpha's Faction: 4 Hunters killed, La Coyote goes rogue
  • Jack's Faction: Jack's hope for a unified Wolves

September 12th, 2015

Alpha swore and tossed his phone at a wall. This could've been an easy hit, and maybe an easy way to get the Wolves riled up for war, but thanks to fucking Coyote, it was going to escalate to war. Jack and his family had gone into hiding, and there were already reports of violence amongst Wolf crews popping up. Fortunately, the media was too busy talking the wholesale extermination of the Vulcans to notice the infighting.

Alpha sighed as he opened his desk and pulled out his mask before slipping it on. If Jack wanted a war, he was going to give him one. And he knew better than to let Lloyd or Grant in on this. Calming his nerves, Alpha holstered his gun, picked up his phone, and exited the office.

"Get the car ready, I have to rally the troops."

Two Omegas saluted and prepared to walk away, but Alpha raised his hand, stopping them.

"Actually, get a plane ready as well. Boston isn't safe anymore."

Composing a speech in his head, Alpha smiled.

I didn't need Tala, and I won't need you either, Jack.


An email goes out to various major players in the criminal underworld. It contains two simple sentences:

This war is Wolves business. Stay out of it. - Le Hound


September 14th, 2015

Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

Tossing back a drink, Renard smiled at Juliet, the only pretty girl in an otherwise garbage strip joint. Right when he'd gotten use to Boston, Alpha had him pack up and move to Pittsburgh. He gestured for another drink, preparing to ask Juliet for a dance, only for an annoying, shrill voice to cut through the buzz he had been working on.

"How you doin', foxy foxy?"

Renard turned to see Theo, one of Jack's top Betas, sitting next to him with his trademark grin that he wanted to rip clean off.

"What the fuck you doing here, prettyboy? I should put a bullet in your doublecrossing-"

Theo raised his hands defensively.

"You wouldn't shoot me in front of all these people, would you?"

When Renard (slowly) took his hand off his pistol, concealed in his jacket pocket, Theo lowered his hands and leaned in so Renard could hear him better.

"Now, I just wanted to talk. So, Jack and Alpha are gonna go at it, and it's gonna be rough, but Jack's maybe sorta probably gonna win."

"Shut the fuck up."

Theo held up a finger, shooshing him.

"Lemme finish. Jack's got most of the base behind him, and he's got the connections. I'm gonna give you the chance to switch sides here and come out on top."

He offered his hand, and Renard looked at it with scorn.

"Sound good?"

With a grin, Renard took Theo's hand, shook it, and then squeezed, applying pressure to the point where it took Theo everything he had not to collapse. After a few moments, Renard let go and went back to his drink.

"Gonna give you one shot, kid. Shut up, and get the fuck out."

Flexing his hand to work out the pain, Theo got up and placed money on the table.

"Alright, fine. Next one's on me. Go ahead, eat, drink, be merry on the eve of war and-."

Renard's hand hovering near his gun made Theo hustle for the door a bit quicker, and he never did hear the end of the sentence. Taking the money, Renard sidled up to Juliet and grinned, placing a hand on her back.

"Hey, babe. How about a dance?"

Juliet turned and smiled, "My pleasure, sweetie."

5 minutes later...

Playing a game on his phone, Theo looked up to see Adreana emerging from the back of the club with a trenchcoat over her outfit. Looking both ways, she stopped, opened up a nearby trash can, and nonchalantly threw a bloodstained knife and a red wig into it before hurrying over to Theo's car.

"Drive."

Theo chuckled and responded, "My pleasure, sweetie." before pulling the car out of the alley.

Casualties:

  • Alpha's Faction: Le Renard killed

Six hours later...

Jack looked at Theo's map of operations in Pittsburgh. Apparently, Theo had slaved away for hours, to the point where there were Monopoly hotels representing points of interest, cut-outs of pictures representing important figures, and circles of influence for Alpha and him. Taking a blue marker, he crossed out the picture of Renard.

Hostilities likely wouldn't have broken out until Alpha was settled...wherever he is, so the death of Renard would be an important loss for his faction. If he could keep losses like this up, Alpha's men would break sooner rather than later. Best case scenario, they side with Jack. Worst case, they're disorganized and easier to take down.

"So how's it look?"

Jack turned to see Theo practically breathing down his neck, eagerly waiting for appraisal. Jack patted him on the shoulder on the way out of the safehouse.

"Looks good, kid. Keep it up."

He was hoping leaving Theo and Adreana in charge of Pittsburgh would prove their leadership skills. If this was any indication, he'd chosen correctly.


Meanwhile, on the outskirts of London...

Timothy frowned as he saw Peter Ward, the president of the burgeoning London chapter of the Suns of Vulcan, pull up on his bike. Ward looked equally tense.

"What's this all about? In case you haven't noticed, my brothers are getting slaughtered, and it's not safe to be meeting alone in the middle of a damned parking lot."

Lighting a cigarette, Timothy nodded and replied, "Yep. it's why my boss is meeting with Marshall Grant."

Ward's eyes went wide with shock, then narrow with suspicion.

"Why was your goddamned boss talking with the shithead whose killing us?"

Timothy sighed, tucking his lighter into his coat pocket, then explained, "Because he wants to make sure this slaughter doesn't come our way. And Grant said we was just fucking peachy. So, the way I see it, you either get patched over or take your chances."

Ward got angry, shifting so he was standing next to his bike rather than sitting on it.

"You expect me to sell out the Vulcans? What makes you think my boys will agree to this?"

Had he been more focused, Ward would've seen that Timothy's hand was still in his coat pocket.

"They'll agree when they think the UCC had you and the other leaders whacked."

"Wha-"

Timothy drew his El Diablo revolver and fired two rounds into Ward's chest, sending him tumbling over his bike and onto the ground of the lot. Tossing his cigarette aside, Timothy walked over to where Ward was bleeding out and crouched to look him in the eye. Blood pooled from Ward's mouth as he tried to speak.

"Look, I don't bloody love this either. But if I gotta choose between your boys and mine, mine win every time. They'll be safe with us, alright?"

Ward, resigned to his fate, nodded, and Timothy walked off, shaking his head in disgust.


The King's Head, London...

Leo smiled as he saw the text from Wesley. It was about goddamn time, given that he had been sitting in this fucking bar for three hours and had only had one drink. Had to keep the senses clear for hits and whatnot. Looking up from his phone, he saw his target, the VP of the London chapter, get up to leave with some of his men, sharing nervous looks as they headed out the door. It looked like this team-building night out had failed to boost morale.

As they headed for the door, Leo paid for his drink and followed close behind. A few paces behind, Leo waited on until everyone had gotten on their bikes before he made his move.

"'Ey, fellas?"

The VP turned to look at him, confused.

"Wha-"

In one satisfyingly smooth motion, Leo drew his butterfly knife and swiped it across the VP's throat, then ducked behind him to use him as a shield for his comrade's gunfire. Trading the knife for a pistol, Leo fired two clean headshots, dropping two more of the bikers. The last of them, tears in his eyes, drew his KA-BAR and charged, but Leo sidestepped him and dropped him to his knees with a well-placed kick to the back of the leg.

As the man gasped and spluttered in surprise, Leo grabbed him by the hair and drove the knife into his neck, grunting as his target struggled and squirmed. Once the man finally, blissfully, stopped moving, Leo dropped him to the ground, then pulled out his phone to text Wesley.

VP's cooked.


A few miles...

The Sergeant-At-Arms of the London chapter rode as fast he could, desperately trying to get to the clubhouse so he could warn everyone. The Wolves had betrayed them, and Greaves had sent those fucking creepy twins to kill him and a couple of the other boys. He'd managed to get away, and now he needed to let everyone know what was going on. His plans were cut short by a single round piercing the tire of his bike and sending him flying forward.

He hit the ground, hard, and skidded to a stop. Crying out in pain, he attempted to stand, but his leg was broken. Dragging himself to his bike, he stopped at the sight of a van pulling up.

"No, please no."

Out stepped the well-dressed twin, he was pretty sure his name was Marcus, stepped out, holding a walkie-talkie in one hand and a pistol in the other. He smiled at the sight of the Sergeant, and spoke into the walkie-talkie.

"Yeah, I got 'em. Good shot."

The Sergeant tried to drag himself away, but Marcus caught up with him easily and stomped on his leg, stopping him dead in his tracks. The Sergeant cried out in pain when he twisted his foot, and Marcus sneered.

"Normally, this is the part where I make you pay for embarrassing me. But-"

He raised the pistol and put a single bullet in the Sergeant's head.

"-I'm on a tight schedule here."

Dragging his body back to the van, Marcus waved at his brother, signalling for him to head out.


Greave's Home...

"So what's your plan, exactly?" Marshal Grant asked, curious, as Alexander Greaves took another sip of coffee. He set the coffee down and did his best to explain to his guest.

"Well, with the leadership of this chapter dead, Timothy's patch-over will absorb it into the Cuttahs, given the alternative of total annihilation. Then, I assume, we'll be able to peacefully co-exist, and perhaps even spread through Europe, as you and I have discussed."

Grant nodded approvingly, then replied, "I'll have to think on it, but this definitely sweetens the deal."

Standing to his feet, Grant shook Greaves's hand and left, with Grant stopping to add, "And thanks for giving us one less chapter to worry about."

After Grant left, Greaves's phone rang. Ah, Timothy, just the man he wanted to hear from. He answered.

"Yes?"

"They just held their emergency meetin'. Voted 15-3 for a patchover."

Greaves smiled. Just what he wanted to hear.

"Excellent work, Timothy. Now, I'll make sure those dissenters regret their votes soon."

He hung up, then went to check his computer, frowning when he saw no response from Jack concerning his and Alpha's feud. It appears they really were going to let this play out. Sighing, Greaves leaned back and rubbed his forehead.

He had spent months setting this up, and everyone had jumped the gun. What was supposed to be a simple, (relatively) bloodless coup was now going to be a full-blown civil war. And now he had to wait and see if Jack could win.

He weighed the outcome in his head. Either Jack wins and assumes control of the organization, or Alpha wins and he loses his American connections. Normally, that would be a crippling blow, but if Grant came around, it would be a minor setback.


September 17th, 2015

Boston, Massachussets...

Will O'Leary smiled as the Top Betas of Chicago, Pittsburgh, Orlando, and New York arrived at the meeting point. It was nice to have some authority after several months of Jack and Alpha staying on his territory, and as his men led them to the boardroom, carefully set up with one chair for each Beta, he could see the uncertainty in the others eyes.

Will knew exactly where his loyalties lied. As each man took their seat, with some giving a nervous look at the Omegas standing by the door, Will poured himself a drink of scotch and waited for silence to fall over the boardroom. He took a sip, then started talking.

"Now fellas, we all know why the meeting was called. It's war, and it's time that each of us chose a side. So, it's time we put it to a vote, to determine who will be siding with who."

The Beta in charge of Chicago scoffed.

"And we expect you to be a neutral party? Even though you're Hound's brother?"

Will shrugged.

"Hey, that's one vote. Don't forget about the others at the table."

There were murmurs of uncertainty, but a wave of Will's hand silenced it. He set his drink down at the table, and then took his seat at the head.

"Let's go ahead with the vote. All in favor of siding with Alpha Wolf?"

Chicago and Orlando raised their hands.

"Fair enough. All in favor of siding with Le Hound?"

Pittsburgh, New York, and Boston raised their hands, and there was a decided groan of annoyance from the other two. Will, however, had already figured they'd vote down these lines, and planned in the event of a split.

"Alright then. Majority wins."

As if these words were a command, the Omegas at the door drew their sidearms and shot the Chicago and Orlando Betas before they could even stand, and their bodies slumped on the table. Sickened, the other Betas got up and stood by the wall. Will took another sip of his drink and watched as his men picked up the bodies. The New York Beta stepped forward and spluttered out a confused, "Why?"

Will set his drink back down and got up to pat the man on the shoulder, reassuring him.

"Relax. I've already spoken to their replacements. By the time you get back to business, Jack'll have control of the five cities."

The other Betas nodded, trying to process the executions, and Will gestured for them to leave.

"I've got cleaning up to do, and you guys'll have to deal with any dissenters to the vote, so I'd get a move on if I were you."

Nodding, the other Betas left, and Will waited for their cars to pull away before giving the signal to eliminate the security teams of the deceased Betas. As gunshots rang out downstairs, Will smiled.

Looks like my baby brother owes me another favor.

Casualties:

  • Alpha's Faction: 2 Top Betas, 12 Omegas killed.
  • Jack's Factions: 2 Omegas killed, 1 wounded

September 19th, 2015

Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania

Rashad and Denzel Draper quietly entered the home of the Pittsburgh Beta. Infiltrating had been easy enough, as they had incapacitated the guards at his front door and then Denzel stashed the bodies in their car while Rashad picked the lock, but there was still a creeping suspicion that something was wrong here. Alpha had been, by all accounts, angry with them for refusing to kill Jack O'Leary, and they'd been doing simple "smash and grabs" since the rest of the Pack had died.

But now? They were being trusted to assassinate a high-profile target. Denzel pushed the thought to the back of his head as they entered the target's bedroom. The target was on his side, asleep, and Rashad drew his pistol and fired two rounds into him, one in the head and the other in the back. Confused at the lack of movement, not even a twitch, Rashad flipped the corpse and stumbled back as he realized that the head had been totally removed, and in it's place, a mannequin head with the words "Traitors" carved into it. Denzel's phone rang and he pulled it from his jacket pocket, surprised to see that the caller was Adreana.

"Hello?"

"Denzel, you and your brother need to get out of there. It's a-"

The front door flew off it's hinges and in stepped a squad of Omegas, well-armed, who turned and fired on the duo. Taking cover on either side of the doorframe, they waited for a break in the shooting to pop out and return fire. Foolishly, the Omegas had all fired at once, leaving an opening for the brothers to easily cut them down, which was helped further by the fact that they were cramped into a narrow hallway.

Stepping over the corpses, Rashad looked out from behind the door to see a dozen more Omegas, who quickly drew their guns and fired on him. Rashad grunted in pain as several rounds passed through his shoulder and chest, and he stumbled back into the hallway. Dipping his fingers into the wound, Rashad grimaced, Denzel crouching to try and help him. They could hear the Omegas headed for the door, and Rashad smiled at his brother, who looked up from the wound in confusion.

"What?"

Drawing his shotgun, Rashad replied, "You gotta leave me here, D."

Shocked, Denzel shook his head and tried to lift his brother, who cried out in pain before slumping back to the floor. Rashad stroked his brother's face and nodded.

"It's alright, D. You've always been looking up for me, 'bout time I did the same. Now get the fuck outta here."

Choking back tears, Denzel nodded and stood up just as the first Omega entered the house, and Rashad sent him flying back with a blast from his shotgun. Running back to the bedroom, Denzel gritted his teeth and hurled himself through the window, rolling to a stop and running for his car as the gunfight between the Omegas and his brother raged in the background.

Two Omegas hadn't gone into the house, and Denzel shot them both as he ran for the car. The shooting stopped briefly, as the Omegas realized Denzel was outside, and he drove furiously, ducking to avoid the rounds that hit his car and shattered his windshield.

As he got clear, his mourning turned into determination and he drove to his safehouse.

It was time to offer his services to Le Hound.

Casualties:

  • Alpha's Faction: 9 Omegas killed, 2 wounded, Rashad Draper killed, Denzel Draper defects

September 23rd, 2015

New York City, New York

Jack took a sip of his drink as the motel television aired a special report. The body of Eddie Brooksford, leader of the since disbanded Suns of Vulcan, had been found dead, his body dumped unceremoniously in a ditch outside of El Paso. Taking a moment to toast to a fallen friend, Jack couldn't help but crack a smile at the absurdity of the situation. Here he was, trapped in a dingy motel room, at war with the man he had mentored, all over whether or not to help a biker gang win a losing war.

Before he could ponder further, the sound of the door opening interrupted him, and he smiled at Melanie as she entered.

"Where are the kids?"

"I dropped them off by the pool. Jack, we need to talk."

Jack sighed and set his drink down by the nightstand. He had known Melanie would want to talk eventually. Shifting positions so he was sitting at the edge of the bed, and gestured for her to speak.

"This has to end, Jack. We can't keep this up, running from motel to motel, looking over our shoulder no matter where we go, who we're with. It's not good for the kids, and frankly, it's not good for us."

Jack massaged his temples. It was true, he had been basically dragging his family from city to city for almost two weeks now, but they were close to a win. Alpha's loyalists had either been killed or surrendered, and they just needed to find his last safehouse to catch him.

"I know that, baby, but we're in the home stretch. If you just stick with me, just a little bit longer-"

When Jack stood up to reassure her, Melanie pushed him back, and he stared at her in shock.

"I'm tired of waiting, Jack! Between this, and us getting kidnapped, and Ollie, and every other terrible thing that comes our way, I can't spend my life hoping that you don't end up dead in an alley somewhere. We can-"

"We can't do anything, goddamnit!"

Now it was Melanie's turn to be surprised. For every year she'd known him, she'd never seen him lose his temper.

"Who the hell's gonna lead the Wolves if I quit now, huh? Will? Adreana? Fucking Theo? I'm all these people got, and I can't turn on 'em now that things are getting tough!"

Melanie struggled for words as Jack's temper faded. To break the uncomfortable silence, Jack's cellphone rang, and he grumbled to himself as he pulled it from his belt to see that it was from Adreana. Sheepishly, he showed it to Melanie, and she shook her head and headed for the door.

"If you go, Jack, we won't be here when you get back."

The door slammed behind her, and Jack stared at the phone for several more seconds before finally hitting the "accept" button.

"What?"

"Jack, we got him. Hert tipped us off, we've got a chance to ambush him."

"...Alright, I'm on my way."


As the elevator slowly worked it's way to the top floor, Alpha checked his watch. He had sent some Omegas to collect the money stashes he had hidden in the city for just a situation like this, and they would, hopefully, be on their way back by now.

This hotel had been a safe spot of Tala's: a rundown shithole totally abandoned by it's owners after '08. It was one of the only safehouses Alpha alone knew of, and thus, it had been the perfect hiding spot while he was dealing with this little insurrection. Did Jack have the upper hand at the moment? Sure, but he and his gang of traitors could be dealt with once Alpha had his money. Something told him that Lloyd Kumar wouldn't honor any neutrality pact once $250 million was staring him in the face. And if not Lloyd, then Raz, or Lullaby, or any of the numerous hitmen laying around.

But something else was bugging him. Since he had stepped in the elevator with his men, Alex Hert, his old bodyguard, had been eyeing him and tapping his foot. This was odd because Hert was usually quite calm. Something was up, but he wasn't sure what yet.

When the doors opened, Alpha stopped and waved for the rest of his guards to go ahead of him. They looked at him in confusion, but complied. As the guards walked forward, Hert stayed behind, trying not look as confused as the other guards had. Just as the guards left the elevator and turned the corner to inspect the hallway, Alpha saw it. A Hunter, moving just a bit too soon, opened the door of the room directly facing the hallway and poked it's head out.

With a shout, Alpha drew his pistol, but Hert wrapped his arms around his neck, trying to choke him out. Flailing, Alpha managed to kick the door button on the panel, closing the elevator just as shots started to ring out. As the elevator descended, Alpha could hear the gunfight raging upstairs, but he was more focused on not passing out. He whipped his head back, driving it into Hert's nose and causing him to grunt, but not let go.

Spluttering, Alpha repeated the motion, managing to hit him two more times, before bringing his gun down and shooting Hert in the foot. Hert cried out in pain, finally releasing Alpha, who turned and shot him twice in the chest. The vest he was wearing blocked the rounds, but knocked him to the floor, giving Alpha enough time to finish him off with a shot to the head.

Some bodyguard you were...

Alpha stopped to spit on Hert's corpse as the elevator reached the ground floor and opened to reveal three very surprised Omegas, who had clearly expected to find a knocked-out Alpha. With a grin, Alpha opened fire, killing all three before they could react, and walked out into the lobby, gun at the ready.

When he realized those three had been it, he pulled out his phone to call the Omegas he'd sent on the fetch mission.

"Oh, Alpha, sir, we're on our way now. We should be about-"

"Just pull around the back, we're compromised. And hurry!"


As the last of Alpha's guard team fell, Jack stepped over their corpse into the hallway and held the receiver on his radio.

"Chuck, do we got him?"

Silence.

"Chuck, you there? Where's Hert?"

More silence.

Jack gave Adreana and Theo a worried look and bolted for the stairs. They tried to follow, but he waved them away.

"I've got this, stay here and look for survivors!"


Stepping out of the back exit of the hotel, Alpha smiled in pure relief as he saw the car pull up and the two Omegas, he didn't know their names, step out.

"Do you have the money?"

They opened the back door, revealing two duffle bags full of cash. Yeah, things were going to be okay.

Running for the car, he was practicing his victory speech in his head as the first Omega took a shot to the head and fell to the ground, and the other was cut down seconds later. He stopped, putting his hands up, as he heard Jack say, "Don't fucking move, Edward."

Edward? He betrays him, and doesn't even bother to use the right name?

Fuming, Alpha whipped around and Jack, gun trained right on him, yelled, "I said don't fucking move!"

Alpha, practically spitting venom, stayed where he was as he yelled back at him.

"Edward? You fucking prick. All I've done, all we've worked for-"

"You lost the right to be called Alpha the moment you tried to kill me, you son of a bitch! You have any idea what everyone's been through, how many people have been killed because of your fucking ego?"

Alpha paused to formulate a response. If he could keep Jack talking, he could get him distracted enough to not notice him going for his gun.

"It was for the greater good, Jack! You and Greaves and Eddie had been undercutting me for too long, and I had to make a tough call! The well-being of the Wolves or-"

Jack laughed at that.

"Fuck off. You never cared about anybody but yourself. Not Coyote, not me, and certainly not the rest of the gang."

How dare he use her name. Coyote had been by his side since the start, he had loved her, trusted her, and Jack turned her against him.

"Of course I cared, Jack. I just didn't let my bullshit morality get in the way of what needed to be done! While you were off rubbing elbows with scumbags, I was trying to build something! You were just too blind to see it."

Jack's rage had faded into a simple scowl, nothing but cold fury behind his eyes.

"I never should've trusted you, Edward. Should've kicked you out of the fucking car the moment I laid eyes on-"

Alpha screamed in rage and drew his gun, and Jack fired just as Alpha did. As the bullet passed through his shoulder, Jack winced, while Alpha collapsed, bleeding from the stomach. He tried to reach for his gun, but Jack managed to kick it away, keeping his gun trained on him.

With a grunt of pain, Alpha reached up and pulled his mask off, letting Jack see his face. The passion gone, Alpha coldly stared at Jack and mumbled, "Either do it or let me go, Jack. Hell, you can say you did it, you'll never see me again. Just hurry up and take your pick."

Looking over at the running car, Jack hesitated before training the gun back on Alpha. Alpha smiled as he saw the uncertainty in Jack's eyes.

"Make your choice."


Theo and Adreana had just gotten down to the lobby when they heard a single gunshot ring out. Drawing their guns, they followed the noise to the back exit just in time to see Jack enter, holding Alpha's mask in his hand. They lowered their guns and Theo grinned as Jack got closer.

"Did you get him?"

Jack looked at the mask, sighed, and tossed it to Adreana before pushing past them.

"Yeah, I got him. Leave the body for the police."

Jack ignored the celebrations of the other Wolves as they headed to the cars, and as he headed back to the motel that night to find the room empty, with a note left by Melanie on the table, he didn't feel victorious, or powerful, or anything positive at all, really.

He just felt empty.


Several weeks later...

"So it appears our guest's friends aren't coming."

The doctor smiled as Omni exited his tent on the base, rifle slung over his shoulder. It had been several weeks since they had executed the spy, and whatever message he had sent had fallen entirely on deaf ears. No government response, no contractors, not even a follow-up scout. While Omni and Javier had hoped for some excitement, the doctor was fine without it. The plan was in it's final motions, and soon the virus will have spread far and wide. There was no stopping it at this point.

The two walked through the base, watching as the men set up their equipment and carried out their daily routine. Omni chuckled as he watched Javier, sitting on a crate and sharpening his knives, stare warily at some of the men, who moved to avoid him.

"Yeah, 'fraid so, boss. I was hoping for some action before this all goes down, but shit happens."

Taking a moment to stop and watch as two guards dragged a limp test subject to the disposal area, the doctor sighed.

"Trust me, German, if you'd waited as long as I have for this, the last thing you'd want is-"

His thoughts were never completed, as a single sniper round tore through his skull and he collapsed to the ground. Shocked, Omni drew his rifle and took cover behind a nearby crate. Within minutes, an alarm had gone off, leaving men scrambling for weapons and positions as an unseen sniper picked them off.

Despite his initial surprise, Omni was excited now. Maybe Patton had finally come to finish their rivalry, one last showdown before the old world came crumbling down.


From almost half a mile away, Raz Dovev reloaded his rifle. He'd had a perfect, clean shot on Omni Key, but he wasn't going to waste weeks of hunting for one clean shot. He wanted to savor this.

He'd already crossed Lullaby off the list back in the desert, where he'd avenged Phillip after a brutal fight, and any regrets he'd had on jumping the gun fell behind him when he arrived at Muneca's meeting point to find him dead. It was at that moment that Raz realized just how fleeting this all was, how death could come for any of his rivals at any moment, so he decided to stop screwing around and get serious.

And so here he was. It had taken some time, with a few greased palms along the way, but he'd tracked down Omni to this location. First it would be him, then Valkyrie, then Slava, and finally Patton, the most dangerous of his targets. He was looking forward to it.

After that, well, he wasn't quite sure yet. Maybe he'd retire to a beach somewhere, or work as a security consultant for some corporation hoping to expand, or perhaps even carry on the legacy of Muneca.

After all, it's not like anyone had seen their face.

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