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Author's Notes: Sorry for the cliffie in the last chapter. I needed congruity with the current one.

Disclaimer: Contains scenes of blood and gore. If you arrived here after being misdirected by a link, please leave now if you are under the age of 18. This story, and others like it, is a work of fiction. Any similarity to real people and places is purely coincidental.

Hunter's Moon: A Declaration of War

The day after on the 30th of July, the commander could not sit straight. His ass was warped from the pounding he had taken from five Lycans. Even on a silk pillow stuffed with down feathers, his ass hurt just from his position.

A muffled knock sounded on the thick oak door. Since no one could hear him from the outside, he pressed a button on his intercom. The unit outside buzzed, indicating to the visitor to answer. The voice knocked Commander Morel off his swivel chair.

"Who is it?" he asked bluntly, still not in the mood to receive guests.

"You won't even open up for an old friend?" Soap (Argentum) buzzed from the other end.

It was hearing Soap's voice that made Morel fall off. He had known that his friend had died in the Valley of Wolves. The report from NATO was clear on that. Or was supposed to be, for that matter.

Deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, Alexandre unlocked the door with a switch on his deck. Stepping inside the office was the Executive Officer of the SAS WolfPack unit, Major MacTavish. He whistled at the voluminous books on the shelves as well as the ancient weapons displayed in glass cases.

"You can charge admission to your office for all the antiques in here" Soap informed the startled Lycan.

"I thought you were dead! NATO and Baseplate both affirmed your demise at the hands of the Americans!" Alex cried out in shock.

"I'm a lot harder to kill. Besides, I needed a day job. That's why I'm here for your GIGN application" Soap answered, grabbing an application form.

"I already have a team of Lycans. What do I need you for?" Alex blurted out, without thinking.

Soap pulled out a silver knife and touched the tip to Morel's neck. The GIGN CO winced as the silver alloy burned his flesh. The more he squirmed, the more he noticed that Soap enjoyed it. What had happened to him?

As if in response to the mental question, Soap answered his former comrade "I joined forces with a god. Soon, we march on the world's cities and wreak enough havoc to bring humanity to its knees. When we are through, the only humans around will be stone, bronze or plaster".

"You've gone mad! I can't allow you to do this" Morel replied, reaching for the red security button under the desk. One push and the resident security force would neutralize the intruder. Silver hollowpoints were particularly effective against Lycans. While a Lycan by birth, Alexandre had vowed to serve as guardian of the state's security. It did not matter if he was Lycan or human. As long as the state faced security threats, he was inclined to stop any attempt to pull it down.

A flash of white blinded Morel when he pressed the button. When he was able to see once more he was no longer in his office. Somehow, he had been transported to a temple of sorts.

Time: Unknown

Date: July 30th 2016

Location: Egyptian Underworld

Commander Alexandre Morel, GIGN CO

Status: Active

Everywhere I looked I saw piles of bones. No matter how hard I tried, my boots were crunching on the bones on the floor. With every step I took, there was a chance of discovery by forces not intent on being friends with me. Sighing, I decided to remove my clothes and place them on a pile of similarly discarded outfits. I would traverse the place in my Lycan state, so I would be stealthy.

When I removed my dark blue uniform, I noticed a name tag on a few discarded camouflage gears. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that the uniform had a Union Jack and underneath the winged dagger of the SAS. Looking closer, I inhaled the almost non-existent scent. It was the smell of Colonel Price. If he was here, I might be able to escape this madhouse with his help.

Quickly doffing my clothes, I shifted into my Lycan form. The change was almost painless.

Where once a human stood, now a bipedal gray wolf appeared in its place. With grey dorsal fur and a white underside, Morel would have blended well in the forests of Europe. He was no longer in Europe if the sandy floors were an indication. Additionally, the sculptures on pedestals were not typical European art. They appeared to be the animal gods of Ancient Egypt. Making his way forward, the wolf Lycan came upon a set of bronze doors. In hieroglyphics and the Roman alphabet, it instructed anyone who wished to gain entry to the sacred temple's interior had first to place a drop of blood on the jewel-encrusted scarab.

Seeing as he had no choice, the GIGN commander sliced open his wrist with his sharp canines and placed a small amount of blood on the scarab. It was considerably more than a drop, but it was the best method he had at gaining access.

The scarab absorbed the blood and glowed a faint green before the doors opened of their own accord. Further on, Morel noticed rows of torches hanging opposite each other. He took a step toward one and it immediately flared to life.

Unbeknownst to the commander, he was being watched by a pair of emerald green eyes. The owner of those eyes was Horus. The falcon god was observing the newest arrival in the underworld. He knew that Soap had gone too far in sending an innocent towards the black abyss. He would do all in his power to keep the mortal safe, even going up against the demi-god Anubis.

Alex was checking corners, his training kicking in. He had no reason to fear empty hallways, right?

Just as the Lycan was getting complacent, an arrow zinged past his muzzle. He had unwittingly strayed near a trap. Cloaked in the center of the trap was Horus. He had acquired his battle bow and quivers from the armory. He let loose the arrow to stop Morel from advancing to his death.

Sensing danger, Alex backed away from the hallway he was supposed to proceed along. Backtracking, he selected another hallway. Above him, Horus was keeping a sharp eye out for any concealed traps and disarming these with precise shots.

They were soon approaching Set's chambers.

Set was not a happy wolf.

His son, Pyro, was yearning to leave and prove his worth. Had Pyro not insisted on practicing his fire element, Set would not be sporting an impressive set of burns. His flesh was shiny where the flames had licked at his skin. He was thankful that Pyro was learning control over his element. Fire was temperamental and not easy to master, much like Anubis. Until the present, Set was finding it difficult to enter the demi-god's mind without triggering an alarm.

Set's ears, and those of Pyro, perked up at the sound of someone's paws approaching. Set plastered on a look of calm while Pyro held three balls of fire around him, a remnant of military training.

The heavy, ebony doors opened to reveal a grey-white wolf Lycan. He had none of the identifying marks that the troops of the demigod Anubis had. Intrigued, Set beckoned the mortal closer so he could view the mind.

Alex was stunned. He had not expected to see Set standing behind the pair of ebony doors. Admittedly, he was just following his instinct to leave the wretched place. Horus was still above the lupine, hovering in the air.

"Come in mortal. We were just sparring. Come in and inform your guardian to settle down" Set called out to Alex.

"I am not his guardian. Soap misjudged the innocent being before you. I need to send him back before he is missed" Horus answered, landing beside the stunned Lycan.

"All the better than for us. An innocent Lycan is worth a lot more than twelve guilty ones. His soul is easiest to corrupt" Set informed his brother, showing two rows of canine teeth.

"Father, I know him. He is the commandant of the French counter-terror unit, the GIGN. He is better off being returned safely without corrupting him" Pyro spoke, derailing Set's dirty thoughts.

"I can think for myself. I am here by accident. I only want to return to my men at Satory. If you refuse to help me, leave me alone" Alex responded, shocking both gods into silence.

Pyro approached the French commander and hugged him like a brother. Alex found himself returning the hug and standing alongside the pyromancer. Deep down, Alex felt his wolf rub against the stranger's presence. If his wolf was this accepting, should he not do the same?

At just that moment, Ra appeared in a puff of smoke. He had felt the presence of another mortal and made to investigate. He had left Apis sleeping on the couch after another round of intense love-making. Lately, Ra was finding himself drawn more and more to sex.

"Hmm, are you the mortal who recently arrived here?" inquired the lion god.

"Indeed I am. Do you know if I can find my way home?" Alex answered candidly.

"We can wait for Anubis. He's currently busy instructing Canid on how to control demons" the lion informed Morel.

"Perhaps we can go there instead? Time won't stand still for me to wait here forever" Alex interjected, startling Ra and bringing a smile onto Set's muzzle. The Lycan might be worth the trouble if they had access to more humans. The Lycan's mind was impossible to read. All Set and Ra saw were boring operations reports. Horus, however, saw the Lycan's mate. He knew that mates bond for life. If one died, the grief was incalculable. It was not unheard of for one to die and the other to quickly follow.

Anubis, I think I found your inside Lycan. Get to Set's chambers. Bring Canid as well. He could use the opportunity to stretch his wings. Shall we call him Leatherwings instead?

Hahaha. That's a funny name, Leatherwings. I'll be there shortly. Inform Alexandre Morel that his chariot will be ready soon.

"Anubis is on his way. He said something about a chariot" Horus informed the room's occupants.

True enough, Anubis appeared in a flash of light. Behind the demi-god, the fluttering of wings could be heard.

Canid flew into the chambers as regally as he could. He had gotten used to flying around the underworld out of practice and exercise. Isis, Nex, and Horus were forever nudging the demi-god to keep his wings in proper order. Sometimes, they got on his nerves. Nex, for example, would keep bugging the former Alpha about beating him in aerial combat. Thrice.

Canid botched the landing, winding up on his ass. Unlike Nex, who was a natural at flying, Canid preferred teleportation to actual flying. As such, he wanted to do the bare minimum of flying as possible. When he picked himself up off the floor, he noticed the mirth in the grey wolf's eyes. Something about the mirth sparked his memory. Searching his thoughts, he found what he was looking for.

"So, Alex, when were you going to inform me that you are a Lycan?" Canid asked of Morel.

"When you were not classified as a rogue. You always stayed at my family's manor in France and yet you never knew?" Morel countered.

"This get-together is rather touching. However, I am wondering why you are here Commander Morel. Did one of the Tier One units send you here?" Anubis asked.

"Well," the wolf scratched his furred head "it's quite a long story."

"We have time for one narrative. Make it quick" Anubis replied.

Swallowing slightly, Alexandre opened his mouth to begin. "It goes like this..."

Alexandre explained to the four individuals in the room of what transpired inside his office. He left out the part wherein he had sex with the candidates. Rounding off his story, he finished by saying that Soap (or someone like him) had pulled a silver knife and pricked at his throat. With a flash of white light, he found himself at the entrance to the complex. He had shifted into his lycanthropic state so as to look intimidating.

"Interesting" Set muttered.

"It would seem that my attack dog will have to cool his heels" Anubis replied, sharing a knowing look with Horus.

Anubis swept out of the chambers with Horus, Ra and Set. Canid and Pyro were left with Alex as the ebony doors slammed shut. There was a momentary silence following the gods' departure.

"So, what passes for entertainment here?" Alex asked, breaking the lull.

Canid and Pyro looked at each other and smirked. Alex noticed this and shuddered. "Not again!" he thought.

*******************************************************************************

August 2nd 2016

07.30 hours

White House

Oval Office

1600 Pennsylvania Avenue

Captain Maleek "Rush" McIntyre

Captain Rush was summoned by President Jack Daniels to a breakfast meeting at 06:30 am. Rush had left for Washington D.C. the night before. Before departing Schneider, Sage had handed him a briefcase. On the transport, he had opened the case. Inside were personnel reports that Sage wanted the President to see. It explained in detail what Sage wanted done before the next round of elections in 2019. If everything went well, Rush would be back within three days or less.

Currently, Rush was sitting in the Oval Office waiting for the President to arrive. Checking his watch for the tenth time, he wondered why he even bothered. Keeping military officers waiting was not good protocol. Opposite the bored captain was General Richard Helmsley of NORAD. He too was getting bored with waiting.

General Helmsley had served with three sitting presidents. Not one of them kept the brass waiting.

The President arrived at a quarter to eight. The Joint Chiefs and Captain McIntyre stood at attention. When President Daniels nodded his acknowledgment, all six of them sat down. The first one to be addressed was Rush.

"Captain, did General Sawyer hand over some personnel reports I have to review?" the President asked.

"That he did sir. Would you like to read them now?" Rush answered, handing three case folders to the President.

A commotion outside the Oval Office made Rush reach for his sidearm instinctively, only to find that it wasn't there. He had surrendered his weapon to the Marine sergeant outside the office. Special Agent Chirieleison pulled out a spare P99 and tossed it to his fellow Lycan. The six Secret Service agents, and one soldier, had their weapons drawn and aimed at the door. The door opened with a bang to reveal a feisty, hot-tempered bitch.

It was Secretary Simmons. When she learned that the President had a breakfast meeting with the Joint Chiefs, she rushed over towards the White House Oval Office. She was determined that policy not be made without her present. In her haste, she had stepped on quite a lot of toes just to get to the Oval Office.

Accompanying her was Secretary of Defense Michael Jackson. The Lycan Cabinet member appeared calm and nonchalant in comparison with the hot-headed female secretary. Contrasting with his human "colleague", Secretary Jackson had his hands in the open.

He did not want to get shot this early in the morning. Rose, in his opinion, could go to hell.

"All agents, stand down. It's just the State Secretary. Don't shoot....Yet" came the orders from the Chief of Presidential Security.

"Roger. Going cold" came the reply from Chirieleison. The leopard Lycan reluctantly lowered his weapon and motioned for the other agents to do the same. Rose had gained notoriety within the Lycan forces by "roasting" Anubis. Within the closed Lycan ranks, she had a price on her perfumed head.

"Captain, lower your weapon!" Rose yelled at Rush. When Rush thumbed the hammer, Rose repeated her statement.

"YOU DARE POINT YOUR WEAPON AT AN UNARMED CIVILIAN! STAND DOWN OR BE PUT DOWN LIKE A DOG!" Rose screamed out, shocking the President and the assembled Joint Chiefs. Never did a Cabinet member lose their cool in front of the President. Not even in a confidential room with all the safeguards. Rose's outburst was the first.

"RRRRRRRrrrrrrr" Rush growled at the human. His finger closed around the trigger, drawing up the slack. With the slack gone, he squeezed the trigger.

Only for the gun to misfire.

Rush was briskly disarmed by Chirieleison and brought to the floor by Secretary Jackson. Rush squirmed on the carpeted floor. He wanted to avenge the personnel that Rose killed with her indiscriminate holocaust.

"Easy captain, come on. Breathe deeply" Secretary Jackson informed the young Lycan. It was Mike's voice that soothed Rush's frayed nerves. While the Defense Secretary was not at the funeral, he had a sense of the difficulties that Rush faced.

He too, lost his commanding officer, albeit in a very different conflict. Thinking back, the Lycan remembered the grief and rage he had felt when the evacuation was over.

Flashback

January 30th 1971

MAC-V Compound, Hotel 1-5

Mekong, South Vietnam

1st Lieutenant Michael "Odin" Jackson

"We're under attack by the Viet Cong! We need immediate evacuation of military personnel and staff. I say again. We are under attack...!" a radio operator was repeating into his HF set in hopes of being rescued.

"Shore up those barricades. There is no way that the NVA is getting in without a fight" an unidentified officer ordered the remaining able-bodied soldiers.

Amidst the chaos and destruction caused by the swift assault on the compound, there was a feeling of calm around Colonel Raymundo Everlast, C-IN-C of MAC-V. The colonel was a veteran from Pusan and Inchon. He had leaped from airplanes onto the battleground of Korea.

Being an infantryman, the colonel had none of the protection of the armored group. Conversely, because he was not in a tank, he was able to go places mechanized transport could not hope to cross without engineers laying tracks. He had been awarded the DSO and 3 Purple Hearts for courage under fire. The North Koreans had fallen back when they had outrun their precarious supply lines. It was only with the entry of the Chinese were the United Nations pushed back to the 38th parallel.

Now, the situation was different. Whereas in Korea, the native population was of great help to the American forces; in Vietnam, they detested the "white demons" because of their association with the corrupt and despotic regime of Nguoc Van Diem. Even the local ARVN were seen as lapdogs of the American forces. Because of this mutual distrust, any attempt to win the locals was heavy-handed and half-hearted.

The sudden attack on the compound came as no surprise.

"Sir, its Yankee Station! They say that our extraction will be here shortly. We got three Puff the Magic Dragons on standby from Saigon. They're at 5,000 feet, waiting on you sir" the radio operator turned to his superior.

"Tell the AC-47s to open up on all attackers. If it moves, kill it" the colonel ordered the NCO operator.

"Sir, what about our own troops on the ground? They'll be caught in the cross-fire" Odin spoke up, alarm evident in his voice.

"Makes no difference. OPEN UP!" the colonel ordered.

The AC-47s were conversions of the American C-47 troop transports used in World War II and in Korea. These were fitted with three 0.3 inch Browning miniguns on the port side of the aircraft to assist in close support. The acceptable rate of fire was 5-6,000 rounds per minute. It was used for its danger close scenario.

"NO!" yelled Odin.

Odin's exclamation came too late. The circling aircraft let loose with everything they had at every moving object they could see. The amount of "friendly fire" casualties was understandable.

Puff 01 had taken up its orbit due north of the compound and let loose with everything they had on board. "This is Puff 01. We are at your northern sector. Multiple VC headed for the compound. Request clearance to engage" the pilot asked Saigon.

"Go ahead 01. Light them up" Saigon replied.

"Roger that. Opening up" the pilot replied. That was the cue for the gunners to begin discharging munitions onto the NVA and VC positions. There was a momentary lull when the guns started to spin. Within a span of three seconds, the 7.62mm Browning miniguns switched over to tracer and ball rounds and began spitting out a rain of lead. The NVA that were rushing reinforcements were torn up by the rapid fire of the guns.

It was only here and in the eastern sector that the air supports had any success at depleting the enemy.

Puff 02 was to the west and they opened up on fleeing civilians and staffers.

"This is 02. Targeting Charlie ground elements west of the compound. Confirm no friendlies?"

"That's affirmative. All ground targets are considered hostile." Colonel Everlast ordered the circling AC-47.

"Spinning up!" the pilot replied.

"Right side, right side!" the FCO ordered one of the gunners, directing him towards an advancing "enemy" patrol.

With absolute disregard for the populace, they swept through them to catch any NVA or VC advancing through the crowd.

The radio suddenly crackled with the cries of wounded Marines. "Cease fire, cease fire. You're hitting our own!"

"...Keep firing! That's an order 02!" Hotel 1-6 ordered.

Focused as they were on their port side, they failed to notice an AA team take up station on a rooftop on their starboard. It was only as the plane made its orbit did they see the team. The VC unveiled a camouflaged ZPU-30 on the rooftop directly opposite.

"Jesus!" the pilot exclaimed, pulling hard on his control column to climb higher from his current altitude. The plane responded sluggishly simply because it was not designed to enter a steep climb rapidly. Time froze for the entire crew as the pilot fire-walled the throttle in an attempt to climb higher.

It was already too late.

The very moment that the guns opened up, the aircraft and her crew were doomed. Red-hot cannon shells began pounding into the thin aluminum skin of the C-47. One of the gunners brought out an M-16 to fire back at the gun crew, to no avail.

The burning wreck and her crew slammed into a row of houses just outside of the compound they were supposed to protect.

Puff 03 was east.

"03 on station. Engaging targets approaching on the evac site" the pilot informed Hotel 1-6.

"Keep the route clear. We need those evac choppers for the wounded" Hotel 1-6 replied.

"Affirmative. Circling the site now" the pilot replied.

"Gunners, cleared to fire on targets. Danger close" the FCO informed the gun crew.

They swept the roads leading to the river. The evacuation site was there and they were getting hammered from all sides. The crew picked their targets and opened up when they had a clear line of sight.

Moderately successful at keeping the VC pinned down, they received orders from Saigon to RTB. The pilot turned off his radio and kept his orbit over the doomed city. He was determined to keep the evac site safe, whatever the cost.

Fast forward to the present day...

Secretary Jackson was still pinning the Lycan's arms to his sides. Rush had already formed claws and keeping them pinned meant injuries were less likely to happen. Odin understood full well what the younger Lycan was experiencing.

For months after, he too wanted to enter the American command in Saigon and tear the staff to pieces. It was evident that he was mentally unfit for combat and General Westmoreland sent the Lycan captain home. The lieutenant was promoted in helping defend the MAC-V compound and was awarded the Medal of Honor. To Odin, the awards were the equivalent of blood money. The brass was washing their hands of the incident by handing out medals, promotions, furloughs and what not to the participants just to stay quiet.

Afterwards, he had wanted to quit the military all together. Every night since he got home, he always dreamt of holding his dying friend and commanding officer in his arms. Only time with his pack and alone in the Washington forests helped him heal. It took another decade before he could finally be at peace with what happened. It was at Virginia Beach that he got to know a younger version of himself, Paul Schumann. While he was not officially a member of the Navy SEALS, the commander of the unit had served with him in 'Nam and made an exception. It did not hurt that the commandant was also Lycan.

"Calm down. Don't let your emotions run riot. Not here, at least" Jackson informed the still struggling Lycan.

"But, she killed my mate! She deserves to pay with her life!" Rush exclaimed, shocking the room into silence.

"Is this true, Rose?" President Daniels asked with interest.

"You were implicit in killing a Lycan's mate? How could you?" Admiral Alexander exclaimed.

"This shatters the memorandum of agreement that Jefferson signed in 1799 when he was President" General Willoughby spouted, standing up from his position on the couch. The general's family had been the witnessing party to the signed document. It was the only reason that lycans had served in every battle the United States fought, except the Civil War.

"Disposing of rogues was agreed upon. What was not agreed on was the intentional killing of a registered Lycan unit" he continued.

"The last time this occurred was after the Lusitania sank. Do you know what we had to do to keep the matter quiet?" General Willoughby's adjutant, Lieutenant Colonel Manuel O. Ortiz spouted.

When Rose paled, President Daniels offered her a way out of the mess.

He said, without a qualm, "Give this woman a medal. She has done what so many others before her had failed to accomplish. She has killed an Alpha"

"Mr. President, you are not seriously considering destroying the treaty. Are you?" questioned Colonel Ortiz.

"As a matter of fact, I am. We have been held subordinate to their race whenever something untoward happens. That ends today. Get me my National Security Adviser!" he ordered one of the agents.

"Yes, sir!" Agent Newman announced. With a heavy heart, the Secret Service agent headed out the door and made a phone call.

Sage had to be informed of the latest development.

******************************************************************************

Back in the Oval Office

08.00 hours

The entire Joint Chiefs handed in their resignation. They would not be a party to the destruction of the Lycan Agreement Treaty.

"Mr. President, I irrevocably hand in my resignation. I will not stand idly by as you destroy a treaty we paid for in blood" Admiral Alexander said.

"Same here. They will demand blood for this treachery" General Willoughby said quietly.

"I will not lead my men into this madhouse you call a decision. I'm done" General Adams said softly, stiff-backed.

"You can take my position and stick it where the sun don't shine. I'm through with your meddling" General Smith drawled out in his Virginian accent.

The President took a long, hard look at his Defense Secretary.

Odin had helped Rush off the floor. The Lycan officer was trying, and failing, to rein in his fury. Odin noticed the look that the President directed at him. Odin saw the contempt evident in those ice-blue eyes. He was being judged and he appeared to have failed.

The President could not foresee the split this would cause among the Armed Services and their allied departments. With a haughty air, he dismissed the Joint Chiefs and their aides. The military officers left the Oval Office with their heads held high.

Turning to Odin, President Daniels asked in a sickeningly sweet voice one question from his Defense Secretary.

"How far are you willing to go to safeguard our nation's security?"

"Mr. President, that was the very same question that General Westmoreland told me before he shipped me home. You are leading this country into a crisis that will bring the American people to their knees. Therefore, it is with a clean conscience that I too, tender my resignation. Effective immediately" Odin informed his Commander-in-Chief matter-of-factly.

The President simply steepled his hands on the desk. The smirk on his face was diabolical in its simplicity. After a long amount of time, he finally spoke. "If that is how you really feel, I have no recourse but to accept your resignation from my Cabinet. Pity, you had such a promising career."

In one of the abandoned couches, Rose was enjoying herself. She had scored another coup against the abominations! Never, not even in her wildest dreams, did she think that the President would side with her. And now, it would seem as if her bestial colleague was also being shown the door. Giddy with anticipation, she hung on the President's every word.

"GET OUT OF MY SIGHT! You and your filthy excuse of a mongrel are not welcome in this astute building. Either get out or I will have the Secret Service throw you out!" President Daniels announced with unbridled fury at both Odin and Rush.

Standing at stiff attention, both Lycans saluted the President and made their way out. Rush went out first, followed by Odin. As the two of them made their way out of the West Wing, they gathered a gaggle of Secret Service agents. With each step, more agents joined their long walk to the waiting UH-60 Blackhawk transport. The helicopter was dispatched by Rear Admiral Sarah Connors. Two SEALS were waiting at the doors for their passengers.

Odin looked at the sky at just that moment. The clouds were darkening with the promise of a massive downpour. A crack of lightning illuminated the clouds and Odin thought he saw a winged figure in the clouds. Inhaling deeply, both Lycans noticed that the wind carried a scent that resembled cinnamon.

"I am sorry, Anubis. I failed in my duty as your representative." Odin thought to himself, sadly.

Rush was ushered in by the first SEAL. Upon entering, he noticed that there was an SAS commando on the bench. The commando extended his clawed hand in greeting. Grasping the hand in his own, Rush collapsed against the unnamed commando. The commando pulled his American counterpart into a hug as Odin buckled himself in. Both of the SEALS subsequently got on board and closed the door.

The Secret Service agents that accompanied the Lycan officers were themselves shocked at the ease with which the President rendered asunder a pact that kept the peace for more than 200 years.

They had accompanied both officers to the waiting helicopter not out of anger, but out of a final act of charity in the vain hope that an impending disaster could be averted. Most of the Service would find their act of charity would earn them the admiration of the Lycan leader. The others were merely following orders and would not be granted the same privilege.

From the Oval Office, President Daniels watched as the two "outcasts" boarded the helicopter. He kept his gaze leveled on the helicopter as it slowly rose up from the South Garden. He followed the departing aircraft until it disappeared from view.

A bolt of lightning came down from the clouds and struck the gaggle of security people on the lawn just moments after the rotor-wing departed. When the retinas of the observers had cleared, they noticed that the entire gaggle was spread out on the ground and appeared in a state of shock.

"It has begun" whispered President Daniels. He then picked up his phone and punched in the digits for NORAD.

*******************************************************************************

06.00 hours Central time

August 2nd 2016

Task Force Lycan HQ

Schneider AFB

Colonel Raymond "White" Foley

The phone began to ring on the bedside table. Groggily, White reached for the phone and fell off the bed.

"Why can these things never stay attached to their base?" he grumbled to the darkness. While he was still grumbling, the answering machine came on at the seventh ring. The pre-recorded message kicked in and received the message.

"You have reached one pissed off Army Ranger. Please feel free to leave a message after the gunshot" the machine played back, the end of the message punctuated with a sound of a rifle going off.

"White, it's Golf India 1, 5, 0. The whisky has overflowed the still and is ruining the mix. I need to cut back on the sugar" went the coded message. White took all of three seconds to remember the translation, before realization hit him like a ton of ordnance. Immediately he got dressed and dashed out the door.

In the were-fox's haste, he ran straight through the door and broke it off its hinges. Stopping briefly to assess the damage, he took off once more for the quarters of the base commandant. It would dawn on him later that he could have just used the telephone in the adjacent office to wake up Sage.

Hindsight is always 20/20.

*******************************************************************************

08.05 hours

Outside the Oval Office

White House

1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, Washington D.C.

"Thanks for the phone Jeannette" Agent Newman thanked the secretary.

"No problem Tony. It had to go out one way or another" the secretary said in her dry monotone.

"I hope I did the right thing. I can't stomach another scandal similar to the Valley of Wolves" Agent Newman muttered to no one in particular.

"Did you get the NSA on the Oval Office hard-line?" he asked Jeannette.

"I gave him an auto-patch. The moment he picks up, he has a direct route to the President. Is there a problem?" Jeannette responded.

Tony merely shook his head. It was against his oath to protect the President if he sang like a canary. There are secrets that the Secret Service are sworn to uphold. Situations like these are one of them.

Squaring his shoulders, the agent corrected his posture and returned to his guard station inside the Oval Office. By the looks of things, the day could only get worse.

He was half right, if only just.

******************************************************************************

08.10 hours

Secretary John Fitzgerald Truman

Deputy Director for Homeland Security

National Security Administration Building

Arlington, Virginia

That bastard of a phone kept ringing incessantly.

According to my secretary, it hasn't stopped ringing for the past five minutes. Whoever it is must be very persistent or is a complete idiot. Doesn't anyone even read my schedule these days? I have Tuesdays off so I can have a round of golf with the rest of the intelligence chiefs.

I resisted the urge to pick up the handle and slam the phone back into its cradle. That would just mark me as rude, despite my very cultured upbringing.

Tentatively, I lifted the handset and placed the piece against my ear. There was a caller on the other end, albeit a computerized message. It kept asking for something until it dawned on me to input my access code.

There were only three phone lines I knew of that needed an access code. One was for our satellites, another for a secure call between departments and the last was for the DC hardline in the Oval Office.

I announced the code into the speaker, "Access Code Fire Bolt. Alpha Zulu 2, 3, 6, 8, 0". There were a few clicks and hisses before I was allowed access into the hardline.

"John, its Jack. I need you to come to the White House. I have a situation here that needs your personal presence. I'll send a helicopter to pick you up" the voice of President Daniels echoed over the line.

"Mr. President, with all due respect, what is going on?" I asked, a hint of panic in my voice.

"I'll inform you when you get here. No, fuck that. I'll tell you now. Task Force Lycan has outlived its usefulness. They have co-opted the entire Joint Chiefs panel into siding with them. What do you suggest?" I was asked calmly.

"Initiate a first strike. Send in Tier One operatives to deal with them. I don't know, drop a nuke?" I rattled off the possibilities, none of them leaving a good taste in the mouth.

"Get to Washington as fast as you can. A Secret Service helicopter is on its way" the President told me before he hung up.

BOOP BOOP BOOP

I just stared at the phone, not knowing what to think. I started the day irate that someone was inconsiderate enough to call me before I left for the golf course. Now, I was in shock from the bombshell the President dropped. I had been given marching orders and I could not figure out why.

"Jack, what have you done?" I breathed out to the empty office. Remembering the incoming helicopter, I dragged myself over to my office safe and placed my left thumb on the biometric scanner. Inside, I withdrew the military options we could use as well as my IMI Desert Eagle, White House ID, and three additional clips for my pistol.

I placed my pistol into my shoulder holster and the three spare magazines went into my suitcase. The folders containing attack options joined the magazines. I closed the suitcase and grabbed the pair of handcuffs in my desk drawer. Cuffing my left arm to the suitcase, I exited my office and secured the lock. I made my way to the inner courtyard and its helipad. I would wait for the helicopter there.

********************************************************************************

09.00 hours

NORAD

Cheyenne Mountain Complex

Lieutenant General Alfred F. Dubrovsky, USAF

"General, White House on Line 1" one of the staff on duty informed the bleary-eyed base commander.

"I'll take it in my office. Thank you Airman Pollock" the general informed the messenger.

"Your welcome, sir" the airman saluted and closed the door.

The six-foot nine-inch Ukrainian-American rubbed his forehead. Whenever this President called, it was always for some inane request such as 'did Santa Claus pass by yet?' or 'is my pizza late?'. General Dubrovsky tried not to let such things get on his nerves, he really did. But, every man has his breaking point. And the general was fast approaching it. Within the complex, there was talk about the current POTUS being a lame duck.

Merely rumors spread by one of the bored service personnel, he hoped. Gingerly, he picked up the receiver and spoke into it. "Good morning, Mr. President. What can I get you this fine day?"

His tone appeared too brusque and sarcastic, so he was met by dead silence over the phone. The general repeated himself once more and a coughing noise was heard over the line. Finally, he could hear the voice of President Daniels flow out of the earpiece.

"Well, I'll be a monkey's uncle! That's some spunk you got there talking to me like that general" President Daniels said amusedly.

"Begging your pardon sir, I just got to bed an hour ago" the general replied, none too happy to be kept awake.

"Yes, of course. I just want to know if you saw any strange blips on the radar recently? Anything resembling a UH-60 Blackhawk taking off from the White House?" the President asked.

"Mr. President, I cannot zoom in just on one aircraft in Washington's busy airspace. What time was it? ISR would have seen something" the general answered, rubbing his forehead all the while. The faster they finished this conversation, the faster he could catch some sleep.

"They departed at 08:09 am today. I want to know what direction they were headed in" President Daniels demanded.

"Sir, what is the importance of this call? This is most definitely NOT a courtesy call. Tell me the reason you want their coordinates!" General Dubrovsky snapped over the phone, finally reaching his breaking point.

"General, I'm only going to say this once. The helicopter was stolen from Andrews, on board are sensitive military documents. I want that chopper destroyed before they reach their destination. Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir" Dubrovsky bristled. Tapping into his computer, he saw the projected flight path of the transport helicopter. In a little over half an hour, they would be over the Chesapeake Bay Bridge. A shoot-down would be catastrophic. Unless he could get them shot down over a relatively deserted part of the bay.

"Mr. President, if the personnel are innocent. I'm resigning my commission. Are we clear on that?!" Dubrovsky stated succinctly.

"Very well, I already accepted the resignations of the Joint Chiefs. What is one more to the pile? Their locations!" Jack answered smoothly, raising his voice at the end.

"In 39 minutes, they will be over the Chesapeake Bay Bridge. USS Kitty Hawk is at the Naval Yard. Do you want me to authorize a strike?" Dubrovsky countered.

********************************************************************************

President Daniels took a moment to mull the decision. If he delayed, the lycans would get away scot-free and unpunished. If he seized the initiative, he could always pin blame on the pilots of the helicopter for refusing to turn back. His face lit up and he spoke one line.

"Do it."

******************************************************************************

"Very well, Mr. President. I will issue the order" Dubrovsky said, with a much-deflated air.

"Good" he heard on the other end of the line before the phone went dead.

"Pollock, get me the Kitty Hawk. I need a patch to their commanding officer" he ordered the young airman, using the intercom.

"Aye, sir"

******************************************************************************

09.15 hours

Operations Room

USS Kitty Hawk

Annapolis Naval Yard

Annapolis, Maryland

Captain John C. Remington, USN

The phone rang on the oak desk in my office. I felt a moment of dread when I reached to pick up the receiver. The gloomy weather outside was wearing on my nerves. It was beginning to rain buckets. I had already suspended flight operations until the weather cleared. The phone call changed all that.

"Captain, this is Lieutenant General Dubrovsky of the USAF. There is a Blackhawk moving at speed towards the Bay. I want you to shoot it down. This comes direct from the President" the voice on the other end brooked no argument.

"General, I understand. However, I already canceled flight ops for the morning. It's pouring buckets here and I don't want to risk an accident" I answered matter-of-factly.

"Captain, use one of the SAMs on board. Or get one of the marines to use a Harrier and shoot the helo down. I don't care what ordnance you use. The helicopter must not be allowed to reach its destination!" I could practically feel the general seethe through the trunk line. My hands were tied. I simply could not order the destruction of a United States Navy aircraft in United States airspace.

"We're running out of time captain. Shoot it down!"

I was saved from answering by another voice coming over the radio.

"Big Red, this is Little Egg. Requesting clearance for fire mission on threat. I have tone. I say again, I have tone"

"Little Egg, you are cleared to fire" one of the FCOs in the radio room ordered the fighter.

"Copy that. Fox Three"

********************************************************************************

09.05 hours

35,000 feet over the USS Kitty Hawk

F-35 Joint Strike Fighter / F/A-18 Super Hornet

Lieutenant Senior Grade Catherine D. Hu and Ensign George T. Gay

"Okay, rookie. Let's see how much time you spent in the sims." Catherine, or Deadeye to her squad mates, asked the rookie pilot in the F-18.

"Go easy on me, I can't dodge very good" replied George, or Rook (rookie), to his senior officer.

"Try and tag me with your laser" Deadeye called out as she firewalled the thrust and pulled g in a near-vertical climb.

"Hey, no fair!" Rook replied, doing his best to keep up with the nimbler fighter.

A buzz in their respective HUDs signified a hit. Deadeye scored the first hit. That meant Rook had to work doubly hard to score. It would not look good if he got a solid zero while his instructor got a ten.

Not at all.

Banking sharply to the left, Rook narrowly missed colliding with Deadeye.

"Hey, watch it Rook! These things don't grow on trees" Deadeye chided her student. She chortled to herself until she heard a buzz in her headset. She had just been tagged.

"Oh, it's on!" she called out, kicking some more of her niceties out the window. Her competitive streak began to show as she tried to tag Rook a second time.

09.10 hours

The moment she thought she had a lock, LANTIRN began pinging all over the place. Glancing down, she saw the Master Alarm flash on her console. Someone or something was locking onto her signature! Immediately, she popped flares and broke the lock. She dove into a nearby cloud bank to attempt to escape. And was not heard from again.

Rook, on the other hand, was searching for his instructor after she dived into a cloud bank. Without warning, he also received the bright red flash of his Master Alarm. Just as in the simulator, he threw the jet into a series of maneuvers designed to break lock and popped flares.

In the heat of the moment, neither pilot had thought to contact ground control.

Rook appeared below the cloud bank and into the storm. With the flashes of lightning around him, he got a little disoriented. He happened to glance on his port side and noticed a helicopter hugging the waves. The helicopter appeared to be making a beeline for the Kitty Hawk. Almost immediately, he jammed the stick forward to catch up with the speeding helicopter.

"Big Red, this is Little Egg. Requesting clearance for fire mission on threat. I have tone. I say again, I have tone" Rook asked the carrier.

"Little Egg, you are cleared to fire" one of the FCOs in the radio room ordered the fighter.

"Copy that. Fox Three" Rook depressed a button on his joystick and an AIM-6 Sidewinder detached from its wing pylon. Almost immediately, the missile propellants activated and propelled the ordnance towards the helicopter. Just to be sure of a kill, he launched another missile at the helicopter.

It was fortunate that he did so. The helicopter banked to the right and released countermeasures. This blinded the first missile and it splashed into the sea. Unfortunately for the helicopter, the second missile was released from a distance wherein the lock was at a different angle. The second missile struck the main rotors and detonated. The helicopter was shattered by the explosion.

"Little Egg, confirm kill?"

"Kill confirmed. Threat broke up in the water"

"Use your guns. Make sure of it" Captain Remington ordered Rook.

"Copy, switching to cannons" Rook switched to his cannons and raked the water with 20mm cannon fire. Satisfied that he had done as ordered, he turned towards the carrier.

"Little Egg to Big Red, status of Mama Blue?" Rook asked the Flight Operations.

"Mama Blue went off the radar. Can you see her?" the air boss asked.

"That's a negative, Big Red. Sky and water look the same" Rook answered, his heart clenching.

*******************************************************************************

"Get SARbirds over the water. Look the area over with FLIR. I want my pilot back alive!" Captain Remington ordered the radio officers.

"Aye, aye captain!" the sailors in the room chorused. One of them pressed the 'Man Overboard' alert and electrified the crew.

It was 09.35 when the sky opened up and the sun lit up the area.

Five Sea Kings lifted off from the carrier deck. They would find their missing pilot, come hell or high water.

Or both.

*******************************************************************************

August 2nd 2016

09.10 hours

Altitude: 35,000 feet

Range to target: 5 miles and closing

Captain Neil "Nex" Canis

The winged captain was speeding towards his rendezvous with the UH-60 transport helicopter. He had left the skies over Washington under the cover of the horrendous storm. He was not at all sorry for the charring and electrocution of the Secret Service agents on the South lawn of the White House.

They were not supposed to stand out on an open, flat plain. That's prime fodder for a lightning strike. Still, he felt a twinge of pity for the humans. With the clouds of war gathering over the horizon, they were just innocent bystanders.

Shaking his furred head, he focused himself on his mission. He was told to escort the helicopter until they were safely inside the Neptune. All aircraft in his line of sight were to be considered hostile.

Nex was attired in black camouflage. There was a hatchwork of white stripes to break up the congruity of black.

Over his head, he was wearing an oxygen mask. It was the only way he could breathe at this altitude. Only Schumann had proved he no longer needed oxygen to breathe.

Strapped to his back was a Stinger heat-seeking missile, he only had one shot. He was wearing the standard Level III combat vest. Such was capable of stopping a pistol round fired from a .50 Magnum Desert Eagle at close range. It had marginal abilities against rifle caliber ammunition and zero functionality against cannons.

On the hip webbing, he had his combat knife and Beretta pistol. He was not wearing any boots, his feet structure rendering them redundant. The attire itself showed his muscles bulging from within the cloth.

Nex hated the outfit because it reminded him of Lara Croft™ from Tomb Raider™. It was too damn tight around his sheath and balls. Also, if he was spotted, the radar-guided Phalanx Close In Weapons Systems would tear him to shreds with 20mm cannon fire. His shield would not last long.

Looking down towards the bay, he saw dark clouds obscure two sparring fighter jockeys. Acting from his time spent in an ejection seat, he peeled away from his circling pattern and engaged. He went on automatic pilot as he dived, procedures rolling away in his head.

Flicking open the sight for the SAM, he took aim at the lead fighter. Waiting for a clear tone to indicate a lock-on, he spooked the leader and watched the jet plummet back beneath the clouds. Shrugging his shoulders, he focused on the other one.

The moment he got a lock, he let loose with the missile. He watched with satisfaction as the missile arced toward the Hornet. The pilot pulled g in an attempt to shake the missile. Finally, the pilot dropped flares and dived into the clouds. The missile streaked away after the flare.

Disappointed, he dropped the missile launcher. The helicopter was nearby, he could FEEL it.

When he moved lower, he felt his bracelet heat up. Search radar was looking for him. With a feeling of dread, he pushed on towards his rendezvous. Folding his wings, he dived down towards the water at twice the speed of sound.

He leveled off when he was under the radar's envelope. Miraculously, his wings had not snapped from the force of his dive. He skimmed the water's surface until he was at the marker for the pickup. In the distance, he saw an explosion. He did not have to check to see what it was. He had a feeling what had happened. Somberly, he flew towards the wreckage. The fighter that he had shot at was the cause of the transport's demise. The jet circled the site, twice strafing the water with its guns. There was not an iota of hope that his friends were alive.

He would meet Neptune alone.

*************************************************************************************

August 2nd 2016

Location: Egyptian Underworld

Time: Irrelevant

"Well, this is a nice surprise" Anubis the elder looked at the roster. His experienced eye noted four Lycans and four humans. All eight seemed drenched.

On the roster, the cause of death was visible. All three humans had drowned. The four Lycans were blown apart from an explosion. Impassively, he conducted the human contingent first. When the four of them stood before his raised dais, he asked what they had been doing to wind up soaking wet.

"My fighter ground-looped. I was not able to pull out of the dive and smashed into the sea" Catherine answered.

"We got shot down by a Super Hornet" the other two chorused sullenly. With his curiosity piqued, the elder Anubis took a look inside their memories. He assumed that a Super Hornet was a very large wasp. To his amusement, he found it to be a large fixed-wing aircraft. Just as Anubis the younger had described, a Super Hornet was an air interceptor. But the Blackhawk definition escaped him at the moment. Nonetheless, he had a job to do and souls to partition. Beckoning one of his underlings, Anubis bade the humans to follow the jackal while he dealt with the others.

Rush, Odin, Soap and Corporal David Wilder were looking rather bewildered. The last thing they consciously remembered was holding onto the benches when the helicopter banked sharply to the right. There was an explosion and then the cold waters of the bay enveloped them.

Soap scratched his head. This was the second time he had "died". Instead of appearing at the temple, he had entered the queue were the newly deceased waited for judgment to be passed on their souls.

"Looks like I'll be late for Eva's birthday party" Corporal Wilder joked half-heartedly, from another queue.

"Forget the party. You're dead, mortal" a voice boomed from behind, making the corporal jump a foot in the air.

"Jesus!" Corporal Wilder yelped. Turning around to face his tormentor, he stumbled and wound up on his ass. A stream of expletives was already on the tip of his tongue when he noticed a long shadow across his body. Looking up towards one very amused jackal god, he did the next rational thing. Quickly swallowing back his words, the corporal settled on staring at the Adonis-like body in front of him. Wilder admired the well-formed biceps, triceps, abdominals, pectorals, latissimus dorsi... and the rather ample bulge in the jackal's loins.

"Close your mouth, mortal. I might decide to give you more than just a decision" Anubis the elder informed the stunned corporal. The corporal in question shut his mouth and blushed.

"Argentum, your Alpha wishes to see you in his chambers. He is most displeased with what you have done" Anubis the elder informed the sheepish major.

"Well, it was an accident. I got caught up in the moment. Can't he see that?" Argentum (Soap) answered.

_Do as your Alpha commands. While he himself cannot die, you still can. Are we clear on that Mactavish?_the elder Anubis rebuked the Lycan major.

Yes. Soap answered.

_Yes, what?_pressed the elder Anubis.

Yes, my lord. answered Soap, sounding very much like a whipped dog.

At that the elder Anubis summoned another jackal. Like the group of humans before them, he told them to follow the jackal. Soap would not be going with them. Instead, the former SAS would follow the jackal god towards one of the portals nearby.

His Alpha was not happy. Not happy at all.

********************************************************************************

10.00 hours

August 2nd 2016

Altitude: 300 feet

Helix Three-Two

United States Coast Guard

Chesapeake Bay

"Helix Three-Two, do you see anything on FLIR?" radioed Kitty Hawk.

"Nothing conclusive yet sir. Just empty ocean" replied the pilot. His co-pilot, however, was looking out his window when there was a flash of light glinting off something. Thinking it just reflected sunlight; the co-pilot left nothing to chance and pulled down the anti-glare visor on his helmet.

What he saw next proved to be a turning point.

"Turn around. I just saw something pass off our left side" he ordered his shocked colleague.

His colleague, Major Thomas C. Hancock, was stunned by what his co-pilot said next.

"Quickly! I think there's a body down there. Hang on!" the co-pilot said in rapid succession, jerking the control column of the massive helicopter in a leftward motion. Banking the helicopter at an angle, he shouted to one of the rescuers "Do you see it? The tailfin of one of our fighters?"

"Copy that, cap. I see it! Registration numbers: 3, 2, 0, 5... can't make out the rest" the winchman shouted back.

"Helix Three-Two, I want you to get closer. See if our pilot is still alive. I need confirmation" the operator onboard the Kitty Hawk asked. He added, "For the family's sake".

There was silence on the line before a stoic "Yes, sir" was heard.

Onboard the helicopter, one of the crew was going to lower the rescue diver. The diver would be in charge of making the assessment of whether or not the person was alive.

"We are lowering a rescue diver now. Stand by Kitty Hawk" the pilot informed the carrier.

"Davis, easy on the line. That's it. Nice and slow. No need for any snarls with the cable" the diver said as he made his way down. The moment that the diver splashed down, he unhooked himself from the harness and swam towards the downed craft. The rotor wash was noisy and disorienting, but he made it in one piece.

Upon reaching the craft, he held his breath. The reason that the tailfin was sticking out was that the cockpit had filled with water. Inside, he could see the pilot slumped against the harness keeping her in. Her mask was still on. If there was any oxygen left, it would sustain her until he pulled her out. In his relief, he failed to notice that she was not breathing.

"Helix Three-Two, I see the pilot. She seems to be okay. I'm breaching the canopy now" the diver said as he pulled the emergency release handle outside the canopy. The explosive bolts fired and released the canopy. Pushing it away, the diver went to work on the harness. Pressing the quick-release, he freed her from the seat and dragged her to the surface.

While there, he noticed something he should have moments ago. She was turning blue. He would have to act fast if he stood a chance of saving her.

"Sending her up. Mama Mia, she's not breathing. Beginning CPR" the diver said as the cage was lowered by a Dolphin helicopter. Placing her inside, he closed the cage door and began chest compressions. The winch on the helicopter started and hoisted both of them skywards.

Slamming his closed fist on her sternum with a moderate amount of force, he began CPR. "Come on mama. Breathe for Erik. Come on girl, you can do it" the diver, now known as Erik, kept repeating to the obviously dead body.

"Prepare the defibrillator" he ordered when he was level with the fuselage door.

"Charging!" his comrade yelled out. "CLEAR!" placing the paddles on her chest with a jolt.

"Again!"

The pilots throttled forwards and sped towards the nearest land-based hospital. If they had any hope of preventing irreversible brain damage, it was with speed.

**********************************************************************************

August 2nd 2016

Judgment Hall

Building of Life and Death

Somewhere in the afterlife

Lieutenant Senior Grade Catherine D. Hu

Lieutenant Commander Gregory F. Lee

Flight Commander Kelly Finnigan

"The three of you are standing before us because you have recently died. How do you plead?" a panel of judges on a raised dais focused their eyes on the three.

The judges were all wearing hoods. Under the hoods, the three pilots noticed that the eyes appeared to be glowing. When one of the three lifted up a scroll, Hu could not stop herself from gasping. The hand, if you could call it that, was reminiscent of a canine's paw. It was complete with the leather pads and the sharp claws.

The three hooded judges looked at each other. With a silent motion of affirmation, all three slid back their hoods to reveal their faces. The shock on all the human faces was very much evident.

The judge on the left with the red robes was none other than Anubis Schumann. It was his hand that gave the game away. The judge on the right wearing green robes was Horus. The falcon god had wanted to sit in on the proceedings. The central judge was the elder Anubis. He wore the golden robes of an impassioned and impartial justice. Nearby, Wepwawet was lying down on a cushion. The hound would devour the soul of anyone the judges sentenced to eternal death.

"Colonel, I..." Hu started, only to be silenced by the young jackal.

"It is no consequence. I have to send you back though" Anubis told the shocked naval pilot. Motioning for her to follow, he got off the dais and made his way through a set of bronze double doors. He opened the doors and bade her to follow him.

Hu had no clear choice. She followed the colonel out the door and into another chamber. The bronze doors closed with a bang after they had passed through.

The two remaining humans looked at each other. They both wondered if either would also be brought back to life.

Their notions were shattered by the next words of the other Anubis.

"Both of you will remain here. Your time has run out and I am willing to indulge my son. He needs two capable officers to oversee the coming conflict. What do you say?" Anubis Prime informed the naval and RAF officers.

"No" the naval officer refused.

"Not a chance, old boy" the Briton politely declined.

What are you both afraid of? The shattering of your oaths to serve your countries with distinction? The loyalties you hold so dear can be rendered asunder with every moment spent here. We offer you a choice: be reborn as my son's generals on the battlefield or spend eternity dealing in 'what ifs'. The choice is yours and yours alone. Choose well.

Anubis gave a most uncharacteristic smile. He was the only impartial judge and the bias was clear for all to see.

Horus was shaking his feathered head in quiet disbelief at how quickly the decision was made. It was utter madness to make mortals choose between the devil and the deep blue sea. Very few chose wisely enough to make a difference. Those who chose were more often than not, driven to madness. He had to provide a way out. A thought occurred to him.

"Let's put it this way" Horus began, startling the elder Anubis. "You will be reborn into the world. When war arrives, choose which side you will fight on. We decide once more when you arrive back here from the battlefield. What do you fellows think?"

"I think that's a load of rubbish. You're only giving us time until war breaks out. Dare I ask why?" Commander Finnigan asked calmly.

"Yeah, what he said" the American officer muttered.

"There's a third option" a new voice broke the deadlock. All heads in the chamber turned towards the newcomer.

"Well, what is it? Because if I did not know any better, I am talking with the dead commanding officer of SAS WolfPack" Commander Finnigan retorted, an undercurrent of anger in his tone.

"You will be our liaisons. What the humans will believe is that you are special because we will not attack you or your families. Any Lycan that attacks you will be severely punished. Over time, they will know that you are off-limits. We know better. Do you accept?" the gold furred wolf asked the two humans.

"I accept the position, if only for my family's sake" Commander Lee stated.

Price then turned to Commander Finnigan and awaited his response. What he got was not surprising given the officer's calculating gaze.

"You have not made the terms clear. I cannot accept without jeopardizing relations with my units. You kept the description vague on purpose. I fear that my Yankee counterpart will be forced into a compromising situation. Tell us the terms or I just walk away" Finnigan responded.

"You've got balls. I'll give you that. But, we're out of time. We're sending you back anyway, just not as you intended" Price answered, whispering the last part.

"Wait, what did you mean 'not as intended'?" both officers shouted as bars of light appeared around them. The bars crossed each other and both officers vanished from sight.

"They have no idea what they have become" the elder Anubis grinned at his pupil. Price basked a little under the attention before straightening up and leaving the chamber. The moment he set foot outside, he transformed into one of the four-legged jackals and trotted off.

"Wonder what my son is up to?" he asked the falcon god. Horus merely shrugged. He wanted a cup of spiced coffee right about now.

******************************************************************************

Simultaneously with the choice bestowed on the other two, Lieutenant Hu was playfully shoved by Anubis Schumann into a ball of light.

"What is this?" she spluttered. Every time she touched one of the sides, an electrical shock greeted her.

"This will take you back to your body on Earth. I don't want your daughter to worry where her mother is" the god replied.

"How did you..."

Tapping his forehead, Anubis grinned toothily. I know what you're thinking of. It's called telepathy. My family and I practice it here. We share our opinions in this manner if we don't want to be overheard. If we ever meet on the battlefield, know that you owe me one favor. Good luck commander.

"Wait, what of Mia?" she called out.

"Mia, your daughter? She's not yet being informed of your untimely departure. I'm sending you now before they cremate your body. See you soon" Anubis told the naval fighter pilot. To add theatrical effect, he leaned in and kissed the white orb. In a flash of bright light, the orb vanished with its passenger.

Licking his lips, Anubis Schumann looked up at Canid and Horus. He knew that they were both watching the exchange between him and the human. Smirking, he drew his arm back and tossed three daggers in their direction.

The daggers stopped in mid-air and just clattered to the ground. Horus had blocked their approach with an ethereal shield. Canid just hovered there, shell-shocked.

*************************************************************************************

11.30 hours

August 2nd 2016

Morgue

Annapolis Naval Hospital

United States Naval Academy

Annapolis, Maryland

"Doc, we got a live one here!" a nurse shouted to the attending physician, drawing his attention.

"Here too, doc! They're alive!" an orderly waved over.

All three soldiers woke up shivering. They had been sleeping on a cold, metal slab that closely resembled an autopsy table. The nurse and orderlies grabbed blankets from a nearby cart and covered the almost naked bodies.

Even while shivering, Commander Finnigan could not help himself from flashing the thumbs-up sign. They had made it back to the land of the living.

"You three are lucky to be alive" the doctor informed them.

"Who are you?" the three resurrected soldiers inquired.

"Forgive me for not introducing myself. I am Dr. George Howse. Please call me Greg" smiling behind his mask.

"Where are we?"

"The morgue of Johns Hopkins in Baltimore. We" gesturing towards the nurse and orderlies, "were in the process of fixing you up for the medical students' first dissection. Not that we can proceed now anyway."

"Doc, stop it. You're scaring them" a gravelly voice came from the open doorway.

"Of course, you had to come in and ruin the fun" Dr. Howse scowled at the newcomer.

"That's what I do. Besides, I think my three comrades need a cup of warm cocoa and a hot bath" the newcomer stated clearly.

"They're all yours. Just sign here and here" the nurse handed over the register to the naval officer. The officer took the pen and initialed his signature. When he was through, he escorted the three live pilots to the locker room for some clothes.

"So, how was your time in the afterlife?" he asked the three of them when they were no longer in earshot of the caustic pathologist.

"You're one of them, aren't you?" Commander Lee asked, fear evident in his voice.

"I'm Admiral James Patrick Steward of His Majesty's Royal Navy. Who are these them?" the admiral asked.

"You're not a, you know...Lycan?" Lieutenant Hu whispered.

"Not in the hallway. I'll bring you to the HMS Neptune. She's berthed at Bethesda Naval Yard. We can talk freely there, among our own kind" the admiral whispered.

They passed a sentry who immediately snapped to attention. As the three passed, they thought they saw the sentry wink at them. Looking back, they noticed the sentry had fallen asleep while standing. Dull duty, they thought.

Making their way to the elevator, the admiral was peppered with questions. While not at liberty to discuss classified information, he willingly shared what he knew about lycanthropes in general. He took great care to dance around dangerously loaded queries. Pressing the button to ring the lift, Admiral Steward admired his reflection in the polished metal doors.

When the elevator had arrived, all four of them boarded it. The admiral pressed for the ground floor and they were brought to the lobby. The moment the doors opened, there was a shower of cries ringing out.

"MAMA!" a little red and yellow blur dashed to Hu. Within seconds, there was pressure on her leg. She bent down and started comforting her daughter.

"Hey now, don't cry. Mama's here. Shhhh" she cooed, allowing her daughter to sob on her breast.

"Greg, is that you?" a woman called out.

"Yes, Jean. It is me. In the flesh" Greg answered.

To everyone's surprise, he got a resounding slap against his cheek. "How dare you leave me without saying goodbye! You could have left me a note this morning!" his wife shouted, before wrapping her arms around him and bawling her eyes out.

Commander Finnigan just stared at the ceiling. He had no relatives in the former British colony. It would seem that no one was there to greet him. As he and Admiral Steward looked on, a beagle launched himself into the surprised commander's gut; sending the poor officer onto his ass.

"Livingstone, I thought you were in Cork. What are you doing here, you bad dog?" hugging his personal friend close. The beagle had this clueless look on his face.

"I brought him here. Thought you could use the company" Admiral Steward sighed. The mutt was well-behaved throughout the voyage. He only got sick once. On the admiral's favorite recliner, too.

The admiral's adjutant was seated on one of the benches. Periodically checking the time to ensure they won't be late, he noticed that they were running behind schedule. Clearing his throat seemed to have no effect on the noisy lobby area, he then shouted to make himself heard above the din.

"SIR! WE'RE RUNNING BEHIND SCHEDULE! COULD WE HURRY IT UP PLEASE?"

The admiral merely nodded his head and turned towards the doors. The two male pilots could contact him on their own good time.

"Come along Cedric. Let's get back to the Neptune" the admiral said softly.

"Yes, sir" his adjutant answered, just as softly. He then moved in step with the admiral and made their way out the double-glazed glass doors.

Outside, they met an entourage that chilled their blood.

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What was it?

Next on Hunter's Moon. The Executive Decision