Garrett walked to the kitchen door. He heard voices from inside and cocked the revolver while his hand pulled on the lever. He edged his way inside and stood in the area where all his gumboots were neatly lined up. He looked on the floor and spotted army issue boots lined up.

“What the hell?”

He stepped to the end of the hallway. A towering figure paced back and forth while a couple of guys sat and listened. Garrett raised the gun and stepped into his kitchen. The guy turned. Immediately Garrett noticed the stripes. High ranking officer, but it sure as shit doesn’t give him the right to drink...

“My whiskey, I hope you’re enjoying it,” he said.

“Ah. You must be Garrett. And where’s your lovely wife?”

Abigail tapped the archway to the lounge with the barrel of the gun she held. It was pointed at the two junior officers.

“Colonel Holloway, but while we’re in your home you can call me Max.”

Garrett stepped further into the kitchen with a deep frown which filled his brow. “I don’t give a flying fuck what you say I can call you. Who gave you the right to break in and make yourself at home?”

Max took a sip and sighed. He knew Garrett was smarter than a good deal of people he’d met recently. He decided to cut his explanation down to the bare minimum.

“Garrett, I’m not going to explain all of the government's rights to commandeer what they feel necessary in the case of national security. But let’s just say this is a case of national security.”

Garrett knew he was correct. The government could walk in and take what they wanted when they wanted. It happened to be his house they wanted.

“You’d better bring us up to speed. I also know the rights of protecting my home against intruders. I might get an itchy trigger finger and argue against it later.”

“No stone unturned. I’ll tell you both everything.”

Abigail signaled to Garrett. She needed to let Noelle know that they had arrived home safely. He acknowledged her.

Abigail cocked the safety on the gun and rested it against the wall. “I need the bathroom. It’s been a long trip from Miami.” One junior officer stood. “Stay there, it’s my home, and I know where the bathroom is.”

The officer looked at the colonel. He urged him to sit. Abigail removed her boots and pulled on her pink, fluffy, house slippers. She walked to the bathroom and bolted the door. She pulled out her cell and messaged Noelle.

Arrived home safely. Cattle are dead in the fields. It’s not vlads.

The army has commandeered the house. National security. Something to do with the green gas in the Creek.

Don’t reply. We’ll keep you updated.

She hid the cell phone underneath the sink.

“What have I missed?” she asked, now returning to the kitchen.

Garrett pushed a chair to her from by the table. “I’ll explain it later, but the short version is that this green gas is the government’s doing. It’s not a natural leakage like we surmised.”

Abigail screwed up her face. “Where the hell’s it coming from?”

The colonel told the two junior officers to go and check outside. He sat at the table and rubbed his hands across his face. He exhaled as his lips vibrated.

“This is a little embarrassing for the military,” he replied.

Abigail butted in. “There’s no army facility in this area,” she commented. “Is there?”

The colonel started to explain. “There’s a facility a good few miles from here, deep in Bull Mountain, although, there’s a pipeline which runs from Dome Rock.”

“A pipeline runs all the way under the Creek and under the mine?”

“When I say pipeline, I mean it was a natural underground river which was sort of converted into a pipeline to prevent leaks of this type.”

The colonel was digging himself deeper into a hole, and it wouldn’t be long before he needed to explain why the army needed to pump the gas and whatever else they were pumping from one area to another.

“Now,” Garrett said, “how did this leak happen?”

“The mine. They blasted in the wrong place. We thought the mine was finished. Obviously, they found another vein of gold.”

“That’s not all they found. So what’s this green shit being pumped into the air?” asked Garrett, becoming more annoyed.

“The gas is a byline of a natural liquid our scientists found. We were testing it.”

“On what, you thought of making super soldiers or something?”

The colonel laughed.

Garrett shook his head. “Is there nothing the army won’t try to gain an advantage? So, the shit’s hit the fan and this gas is doing something you never expected.”

“Pretty much.”

Garrett poured himself a double shot and half the amount for the officer. He sipped and thought. He tried to piece together the rise of the vlads and Sanders’ involvement, and how it affected the hunt for the shaman and the safe return of Drake.

“You do know about the werewolves who resided in the Creek?” he finally asked.

The colonel nodded and said they had an undercover operative who was a wolf. He explained they’d noticed Sanders’ and Edmund’s activities. Once Edmund was killed Sanders had noticed the gas seeping into the warehouse. From what they found in the office he was bottling it and obviously inhaling it.

“What does the gas do?”

“The gas is nothing like the liquid. If Sanders ever finds out he can distill the gas and make a tonic, well then we’ll all be in the shit. Or up shit creek without a paddle in the Creek.”

“Why?”

“Why? I’ll tell you why. Sanders, as you’ve explained, wants to create these daywalkers. With the liquid, his vampire werewolves will be unstoppable,” the colonel explained. “And I mean unstoppable. He doesn’t need a shaman and black magic.”

“So my daughter, son-in-law, and grandson can be facing an enemy they can’t beat?” Abigail snapped.

“To sum it up, yes.”

“The army screws up again,” she said. Her tone sent an icy chill through the colonel's spine. “What’re you going to do about it?”

“We’ve got scientists who are working flat-out on an antidote that...”

“Antidote, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me! We want something which we can get to the pack. Something that will help them stand up to whatever they’ll face.”

“We’ve tried our...”

Garrett stood from the table and glared down at the colonel. “Well, you’d better fucking try harder.”

“It’s not so simple,” the colonel replied, at the same time two officers entered through the kitchen door.

The colonel held his hand up to wave them away. Garrett noticed the slight tremble in the fingers. The colonel was obviously scared. Garrett topped up the glass for the colonel. If he wouldn’t tell them straight up, he could do it with some Irish encouragement.

“Drink!” Garrett ordered.

The colonel explained that all the subjects they’d tested the liquid on had showed positive signs. Although, after a couple of weeks, they went crazy and slipped into a coma. Garrett listened. It appeared to him the army had made a straightforward error.

“You’ve tested it on werewolves?”

“Erm.” The colonel scratched his head. “To be honest, no. It’s only been on humans. We could never find a wolf to test it on.”

Garrett pointed his finger at max to emphasize the point. “YOU mentioned an operative YOU had who was undercover?”

“We did, but they went AWOL when they heard we needed a wolf volunteer.”

“By volunteer, you mean you’d test a sample on them without their consent?”

The colonel gulped the entire glass in one shot. He was fighting a losing battle. The army had definitely screwed up, and he was the one explaining it to Garrett and Abigail.

“What happens now? I’ve got cattle that are being killed left, right, and center.”

Max explained that it was short term. The workers who were partially exposed showed symptoms of what the army aimed for. A week (tops) and then they quickly died. As a token gesture, Max said the military would reimburse Garrett for the loss of cattle.

“Max… So far it’s been an eye-opener. And this conversation’s very far from over,” Garrett said in a deep tone. “I’m going to inform my daughter and son-in-law what they might be up against. If you or your two puppets outside try and stop me, you’ll very quickly find you stepped into the wrong house.”

The whiskey bottle clanked against the empty glass while Max poured himself another drink. Garrett never stopped him because he saw the message had sunk in. Now all he needed to do was inform Noelle and Declan that they’d better be careful. Sanders was a time bomb which could go off at any moment if he found out what the gas could lead to.

“Abigail, fetch me the god-damned phone.”

Gabriel knocked on the door to Declan’s apartment. Not waiting for an answer; he poked his head inside. He saw the four of them sitting around the table and wondered if he’d been called and not heard them.

“Have I missed something?” he asked.

“Nothing you can’t be brought up to speed on in a couple of minutes. I’ll tell you on the way,” Declan said.

Gabriel scratched his head. He was confused. He wasn’t expecting to go anywhere. “Have I banged my head or something? I’m at a total loss here,” he asked.

Noelle and Dustin giggled. “No, this was a spur of the moment thing. Now it’s finished you can come with me,” Declan said while he grabbed his jacket. He explained they needed to get Kelvin, then go and speak to Wong. “Have you ever seen this?” He handed Tiffany’s notebook to Gabriel. He looked at the cover.

“I’ve seen this before. She was always scribbling in it.”

“Well, it’s got Edmund, Sanders; and boy should you see what she wrote about you.”

Gabriel questioned the last part. There’s no way Tiffany would write about him. He hardly knew her and was surprised when his small pack moved to the motel.

“Well, you’re in there, and so are some riddles.”

“Riddles. That’s what you’re talking in!”

Declan put his hand on his shoulder. As he explained it, Tiffany wasn’t all she appeared to be. The mild-mannered librarian was far from what she had seemed to be. Undercover. Gabriel coughed and spluttered when Declan mentioned undercover. Megan had been too, and look at the pile of shit she’d caused.

“If she’s undercover, where the hell is she?” asked Gabriel.

“That’s what we want to find out. Maria saw her in her dream, she appeared alive and well. Even if it was a dream.”

Declan knocked on the door to Kelvin's apartment. There was no answer. He tried the door, and it opened. He called Kelvin's name.

“In the bathroom,” he yelled.

Kelvin walked into the lounge area holding his head. He mentioned he had a splitting headache.

“We need to see Wong, are you up for it?” Declan asked.

“Sure.” Kelvin popped two painkillers in his mouth and washed them down with a glass of water.

“When did you get your headache?”

“No idea. I’ve had them on and off, but never this bad. The ones before came and went.”

“You’d better ask Sascha to give you the once over when we get back.”

Kelvin grinned. “She can give me the once over any time she likes,” he replied. “Sorry Gab, I’m just telling it like it is.”

Gabriel held a play fist up to Kelvin's face. “If it was anyone but you, you wouldn’t be saying it a second time.”

The condo faded into the night behind them. Kelvin said Wong lived on 167th Street, north of Miami Beach. It was the best Miami could come up with for their version of Chinatown.

Declan pulled the car to a halt at the end of the street. They stepped onto the sidewalk and walked down and past the stalls. Dishes of the day appeared to be chicken feet, and pork buns washed down with vats of tea which bubbled away between every decent restaurant they passed. Kelvin stopped by the dry cleaners.

“Don’t tell me his parents own the dry cleaners?” Kelvin shook his head. “I hate anything to do with washing stuff.”

“His parents own the Chinese store and a restaurant.” Gabriel pushed the buzzer for apartment eight. He pushed again as if he was making a tune. He looked over his shoulder. “It’s code.”

The buzzer sounded while the lock clicked open on the barred door. He stepped inside and ascended the narrow staircase. The smell of the dry cleaners filled the air. Gabriel mentioned they’d be high if they stood there too long. Kelvin said it was the first floor, so holding his breath and keeping quiet might help.

Wong stood in the doorway while they walked down the narrow landing. He was dressed in a pair of overlarge shorts and a white vest. His hair was ruffled, and his spectacles hung at a slight angle.

“Were you asleep?” Kelvin asked.

“I was trying. I’ve been monitoring the cell since I left the bar. I’m coming down after all those energy drinks,” Wong replied. “I feel like crap.” He closed the door after all three men walked inside. The first thing they noticed was Wong’s computer setup.

“I thought to hack was illegal?” asked Kelvin.

“I don’t hack.” Wong turned away quickly. He mumbled, “I gather information.”

It looked like hacking to Gabriel. Three screens and one filled with windows where the code was running and flowing up the screen. Declan asked if he had any update on the girls. Wong said he’d intercepted two messages. One inbound and one outbound about ten minutes later. He brought up the screen and said Megan had contacted Sanders first and told him they were in the mine. It was full of the army and some sort of beast. It wasn’t a vlad though. They had blood-red eyes and short black fur, and were shiny.

“What about Sanders, what was his reply?”

“He told the girls to try and find out what the beasts were and where they came from. That was it, so he doesn’t know,” Wong replied. “Is this what you came for? A phone call would’ve done.”

Declan pulled the notebook from his pocket. He handed it to Wong who flicked through the pages.

“This is from an old pack member who vanished.”

Wong glanced up and smiled. “You know what this means,” he said.

All of them shook their heads. Wong sighed and began to explain. The notebook was a record of events while the person was undercover. The way it was written wasn’t overly-natural. Declan asked about the numbers.

“I’ll need to study those a bit more. They could be coordinates or something entirely different. When I find a pattern, I’ll be able to come up with some reasoning.”

“How long do you think it’ll take?” Declan asked. “There’s a storm coming, and we need to leave soon, or we’ll fall behind.”

“I’ll grab an hour or two of sleep and get working on it after that. Hopefully, I can figure something out by lunchtime tomorrow.”

“That sounds good to me.”

“Are you heading off home now?” Wong asked.

“We were going to, why?”

“Forget my sleep. You must try some of the street food,” Wong said.

Gabriel and Kelvin were up for it as long as it wasn’t moving when they put it in their mouth.

“You’ve got a bad impression of Chinese food. Do you like fried locusts?” asked Wong. He grinned wildly.

Wong said he was only joking. He slipped into a pair of jogging bottoms and placed on a couple of flip-flops. He grabbed his keys and led them back to the street. He explained the road was almost two miles long, but the end they were at was the best.

“There’s one place down here which makes the best tea,” he said.

“You said food, and now you’re on about tea,” Gabriel replied.

“This is special tea.” Wong clenched his fist and shook his arm like it was a massive erection. “This’ll give you some serious stamina. You’ll be up all night.”

Gabriel asked if he meant awake. Wong shook his head while he led them into the tea store.

“No man, you’ll be UP all night.”

“They aren’t laughing they’re crying, ‘cause they won’t be back.”