Nicon

XXII

XXII

    "MY MEN ARE in position." 

    "Very good.  Four of my own men are accompanying the delivery.  Make sure it gets where it's going this time, will you?" the man on the other end of the phone snapped, suddenly turning angry as he thought of the last five shipments that were successfully cut off.

    "Yes, sir." 

    "You're in Troy's territory.  The man's an idiot and his men on border patrol operate on a schedule, it will be easy to get passed them." 

    "We did it last time, sir, it was the extra men we didn't plan for." 

    "Nicon's men, yes.  Kill them, it will make things easier."

    "That's the problem!  They are larger, faster, stronger.  Some of them didn't even shift."

    "They're more vulnerable in their human forms, you fool!  Silver works wonders.  Include a distraction in your setup and arm your men accordingly.  I can't give you all the answers!  Make sure they're dead and make sure the delivery reaches its destination or your family won't be the only ones I kill."

    "Yes, sir.  I'll give you your report tomorrow morning."

    "I want one tonight after it's done," he bit.

    "Tonight.  Yes, sir.  We're moving out at dusk."

    They had planned for dusk.  The moment the sun could not be seen in the sky, they would move out, silently, through the streets in armored cars with weaponry equipped to kill. 

    A large, burly man was leading them.  He sat in the front passenger seat of one of the trucks, a small radio in one hand and his sleek modified black gun in the other, his finger hovering over the trigger, the safety already clicked. 

    Last time, his men were cut off in the road.  This time, they would take out the stronger wolves first.  After their errors, they had planned for the larger wolves to come.  They knew the pattern, so they had back-up waiting to be radioed on the small road ahead that veered off onto a dirt path in the woods.

    The man in the passenger seat clicked the button on the side of the radio and heard static.  "All units ahead, they'll be here soon.  Weapons hot."

    The driver tapped the steering wheel to a monotonous beat, his thick fingers drumming the sleek leather multiple times in a minute.  "Frank, for fucks sake, cut it out—"

    Something heavy crashed into back wheel of their truck causing Frank to quickly spin the steering wheel to the right.  The man in the passenger seat radioed as the vehicle slid and Frank hurriedly jammed on the breaks, the car screeching with a deafening noise.

    "They're here," was all the burly man said before throwing the radio to the ground and putting his other hand on the gun.  He had already misfired a bullet through the window when the truck was hit, he didn't need to waste another.

    He got out of the truck, knowing that back-up would be arriving shortly, and tossed Frank the rifle that was resting near his feet.  "Where're those wolves that were supposed to be helpin' us?" Frank asked, annoyed, as he cocked his weapon, his hands raised in the air as he tried to intimidate the beasts. 

    A low growling noise came from behind them, and Frank whirled around.  The man next to him was quick to follow.  The wolf in front of them was a larger-than-average wolf with a thick, brown coat and small dribbles of blood in the corner of his mouth.  The wolf took another small step before bowing his head to the ground, so much so that its nose brushed the asphalt.

    "He's with us," the man told Frank. 

    He turned back around, gazing into the darkness, searching the tree line for the wolves.  He could hear his men down the road yelling various forms of profanity, and he heard the spinning tire wheels as they skidded.

    "Where're those fuckers!  I wanna piece of 'em tonight!"  Frank turned around in circles, his gun pointed dead in front of him as he yelled more into the open air.  "Come out, come ou—"

    A wolf larger than the brown one that was aiding the two men leaped forward through the air, snatching Frank by the head and ripping his jaws back and forth ferociously, unhinging Frank's head from his shoulders as if he were a chew toy.  Dark liquid dripped from his teeth and a fierce growl erupted from his lips as Frank's companion unloaded multiple rounds of bullets into the wolf's fur.

    The wolf stalked forward, playing with the human, more rage pouring into his growls as the man kept shooting him.  There was a light scar over the wolf's eye that ran from his forehead down to the side of his face, and the man altered his aim so the next few bullets were shot near his head.  The wolf got close enough that he leaned forward and clawed at the man, whose arm went up to defend himself and got ripped open bloodily in the process. 

    From behind him, the smaller wolf leapt in front of the human and attacked the other wolf, leading with his paws and attempting to clamp his wide jaws around his neck.  The human retreated back to the truck, opening the rear door with so much force that it bounced back and hit his back painfully.  Ignoring the throbbing from his own idiocy, he grabbed the large rifle that he knew had pure silver bullets, a step up from the minimally silver-tipped ones in his handgun.

    The pure silver bullets, he was told, would affect the wolf's circulatory system more quickly.  More deadly.  There were stockpiles of the pure-silver weapons in the vans down the road, the shipments in large crates and packaged tightly in different cars.

    The burly man ran out from behind the car.  The two wolves were still fighting but he could clearly tell that his enemy had the upper-hand, his larger and more muscular frame easily overpowering the smaller wolf.  The scar on his forehead was covered in blood, as when he had been shot it nicked the top of his head, but the wound seemed to be closing already.

    The human lifted the gun and aimed at the wolf's hide just as the wolf clamped his jaws down and tore out the throat of the other.  The human was almost sick at the amount of blood spurting from his wound, and the other wolf wasted no time in leaping toward the gunman.

    He fired a few shots to the wolf's chest, and as the wolf whined and leaped a final time, another one took him out of the air, driving him into the pavement with an incredibly inhuman amount of force.  Firing more shots, he didn't care which wolf he hit, the larger wolf would die soon from the impact of the silver in his blood.  There was no doctor here and he wouldn't make it to the nearest one, the human thought as a sick grin formed on his face.

    He receded back into the drivers seat of the car in a hurry, panting heavily and passing the large dent on the side.  Turning the key in the ignition and hastily speeding away from the fight, he glanced in the mirror to see the smaller wolf standing away from the other.  The scar on the dead wolf's face was the only indication to the human that his men had killed the leader.   

    He assumed all the other enemy wolves were defeated. After all, the King didn't send many in the first place, not aware that the hunters had inside information and assistance.

    "It's done, taking part of the shipment there now."  He checked the rear view mirror again to see headlights behind him.  "The others are being delivered, too." 

    "And the wolf with the scar?"

    "Dead.  Killian's dead."