"Your excellency, I’m surprised that you came all the way out here," the man said, watching as the Archbishop climbed out of the Mercedes SUV. Bending down, he kissed the man's silver signet ring and lowered his head in obedience. "We will have our report ready within a day."

The old man, who had long ago fought against the cursed werewolf while in his native Germany, waved his hand. “I’m sure your report will be very detailed, Brother Caedus. But sometimes, the horrors of what happened must be seen in person. I learned that long ago as a boy, when as a schoolchild I was taken to Auschwitz to see that wolves do not always wear fur. Come, show me."

Moving carefully in his cassock and in respect for his seventy years of age, he crossed over the pockmarked ground, carefully avoiding the blackened spots where explosions had occurred. It wasn't that he was afraid of them, far from it. Forty years prior, he had been one of the most feared Hunters in Europe, one of the few humans that the werewolves feared. "Don't lose control," they'd tell their children who struggled with their change, "if you get noticed, Franz Knochenmus will come for you!"

His hunts had taken him all over Europe. He had hunted werewolves in his native East Germany, then what had then been the Soviet Union before the Order had brought him past the Iron Curtain to hunt in France, England, Spain, and even as far away as North Africa. Finally, he had been elevated first to Bishop and then for the past eight years Archbishop Knochenmus, Knight of the Order. Still, even twenty years after his last hunt and the wound that had crippled his right hand, the tales of the Marrow Grinder, a play on the German meaning of his name, were whispered amongst the European Clans.

"Have you found any more survivors?" Knochenmus asked Brother Caedus who was still next to him. "My last update said you had a few possibilities."

"There is one, your excellency, but I don’t know if he can survive. His right leg was pinned underneath a falling chunk of concrete. The doctors say they will have to amputate the limb, but they are more worried about his lungs. The final assault by the werewolf helicopter seared his lungs severely. They are concerned about infection, and if he'll even be able to regain the use of his voice ever again."

"He is a Hunter, he is strong enough to survive worse," Knochenmus replied. "Never doubt the strength that faith gives you."

"Of course, apologies Eminence. It’s just, the amount of carnage, many of the men haven't seen such ferocity before."

"I understand. Normally the American Clans have been much more clandestine. Perhaps I’ve been too complacent, thinking that since they were supposedly contained that I could turn my focus back to Europe and the Asian expansion. For that Caedus, I have been in error. It’s an error I plan on rectifying."

"Your excellency, there’s been another development that I wanted to talk to you about in person," Caedus said, leading the Archbishop around to what had once been the front gate. "I disregarded the reports at first, but we have confirmed, there were bears that joined the werewolves in their attack. Many of the men are confused, they don’t understand how the enemy was able to train these animals to work with them."

"They didn't," Knochenmus replied, kneeling down painfully to look at a bloody pawprint that was still on the blacktop that made up the facility parking lot. He placed his hand next to the print, which was easily twice the size of his. "Although that they were involved is very concerning to us."

"Your excellency?" Caedus asked, clearly confused.

Knochenmus pushed up painfully, refusing assistance from the younger man, but still pushing off his knee with his left hand. "There is more than one kind of shapeshifter in the world, young Caedus," he said, looking at the charred and smoking ruins of Brother's John's foolish plan. Knochenmus reflected that his death, most likely from the Richter woman considering the way he had been found, had been sort of a mercy. The Order's method of execution for such a colossal bungling would have been far more painful.

"The Order was created to combat a very specific type of shapeshifter, the werewolf," he continued, making his way towards the building. He wanted to look inside, and see where the Richter woman had been held. "However, that doesn’t mean we’re unaware of others. For example, our Asian Brothers in India are dealing with Tigers as well as Wolves. In North America, we have had occasional contact with various groups of Bears. These two groups cooperating could be a disaster, and I need to discuss it with some of my advisors. Caedus, if you can find any physical evidence of the Bears, or even better, video. If you find it, I want you to send it to me immediately. I need to know if this is a small group of independent Bears or an organized group."

"Of course, your Excellency."

The old man looked over at Caedus, a grim smile on his face that made Caedus think that for the first time, he was truly looking at the Marrow Grinder himself and not the old man in a cassock. "Don’t worry, son. If they want a fight, they will see just how much of a fight we can bring."