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Red Moon: Chapter 17

"What say you?" Rommel's voice echoed into the Alpha's ears from across the phone. "Shall we put aside ancient grudges and do what is right for us all?"

The Alpha remained silent, heavy in thought. He felt as if he was being asked to sign his pack away to the devil, pushing them further into an age old conflict that should have died out long ago. Though in reality, they were already too far involved with the Inquisition to ever have hope of pulling out on their own. This was his best and most likely only option to stop the bloodshed even if it was through the use of more bloodshed.

"I have one main condition." The Alpha breathed out, looking down at a report that he had received from some of his scouts. The Inquisition was on the move out east, rooting around, trying to look for their den. They were close and it was more than alarming to only be hearing of this now when they were so close to home.

"I'm listening." Rommel repeated the words the Alpha had used only minutes before when he had first pitched the idea of stopping the Inquisition.

"We deal with them in Russia first." He wouldn't do anything outside of the country while a threat existed at home. He needed assurances that his people would be safe. The enemy was close, had been close and will continue to be close until they were dealt with at the source.

"I can't make such assurances this early." Rommel knew how dangerous it was to make promises too early in a conflict. The battlefield was an ever changing landscape and objectives that once seemed easy to achieve often went out of reach in an instant. It was too early, he didn't have Intel on how strong the Russian branch was, how many people it had or where they were.

"Then I can't commit." The Alpha said sternly reminding Rommel why the old outdated treaties between the two packs still existed, they were both extremely stubborn, unable to come to an agreement on anything. It wasn't annoying to the old general, it was a challenge that had plagued him far longer than any battle he had fought and he planned to overcome it. One of them would have to give.

"This is the best chance anyone has ever had to stopping this madness." Rommel countered, trying to use logic. "How many did you lose during the mess after Russia pulled out of the First World War, when the Inquisition wormed itself into the ranks of both the Reds and the Whites? A quarter?" The Alpha gritted his teeth, so much so that Rommel heard it on the other side and knew he had hit it right where he needed to. "Other packs have lost more. Poland is a desolate void now, half of the French pack is still in Britain and even more of the packs from Europe are in the Americas now where the Inquisition is trying to gain a stronger foothold."

"Get to the point." The Alpha snarled. The Russian Revolution was a touchy subject that easily angered the old wolf. The pack had lost nearly a third of its size by the end of the conflict. There had been nowhere to hide or run to. Europe was embroiled in war and the Asian borders were cut off. Too many died in that bloodbath after it was revealed that the Inquisition had both sides wrapped around their fingers and had access to all of the intel that it gave them. No wolf was safe.

"The point is this conflict is at an ending point. It's us or them and we don't have the strength to fight them if we're not united." While Rommel could have drawn out his argument by using the numerous examples of their suffering from history, he wasn't like that. Rommel hadn't become renowned by waiting, he pushed his advantage when he saw one, striking blow after blow until either he or his adversary could no longer go on. "They are weak right now. To have one of their leaders come to us is an advantage I fear we will never be able to have again. For the first time ever, we will be able to strike back at their very core. Let it be known that I am coming to you in need of help."

The Alpha couldn't deny that Rommel was coming from a position of reason that made sense. The Inquisition had always appeared strong, always forcing werewolves to go on the defensive, but having one of them turn showed that it wasn't like that. Change was possible, but he still couldn't do anything while the Inquisition was closing in on him here. "I still can't help you until the problem is dealt with here. That is final."

"I can't promise anything, but I'll see what I can do if that helps." Rommel sighed, seeing that this was the only way to garner the necessary support. This call had however been the most productive in a very long time and it was refreshing to be getting somewhere. If he could get some information from Director Channing regarding how they could attack the Russian branch, then he was sure this alliance was on the bag.

"It's a start. Contact me when you have more information." The Alpha looked at his watch, one of many he had since they often got lost when he changed into a wolf. Dmitri would have gotten back to the city with Trevor some time ago and he needed to discuss where the new werewolf would fit in with the pack. He was still against their relationship, but with Trevor being a werewolf now, his argument was hardly viable if based solely on reproduction. There was always the option of artificial insemination which would bring about cubs without breaking any vows between mated pairs.

"Will do." Rommel then ended the connection and immediately made plans for another meeting with Director Channing. He wasn't going to let this slip between his fingers.

"I can't be." Trevor held his head in his hands, pulling at his hair slightly. Dmitri and Trevor were back at the hotel after a quick stop at one of Dmitri's many stashes where they got some clothes and now he had just learned about his current condition. "I feel fine, I feel normal." He wildly looked at himself, at his normal looking hands and feet which showed no sign of being different and yet deep down he knew it was true. While he appeared normal, he was different. His muscles were more toned and pronounced, his vision which had been deteriorating over the years was now perfect and he was taller by several inches.

"Don't you remember anything?" Dmitri asked, trying to be supportive which was not a strong suite of his. "Anything at all?"

"Nothing after I arrived here." Trevor tried to remember, but all he got was nothing. There were feelings, the thought that something was there, but nothing that he could turn into an image of what had happened to him. He wanted to believe Dmitri, his head was screaming at him to trust him, but without his memory, he didn't even know who this person was. He could tell that the same was not true for Dmitri. The way he looked at him and how he tried to be gentle around him. It was... sweet? There were these feelings as well which he didn't understand either. He didn't understand much at the time.

Dmitri didn't know what to do. It really was like he was talking with someone who he had just met, not his mate at all. He had hoped that the amnesia would fade in time, but there was no sign that any memories were surfacing. He feared that he would lose him entirely.

A knock at the door startled the both of them and Dmitri got up to go answer it, letting Trevor stay where he was at the bed. A quick look through the peep hole showed that it was his father.

"What is it?" He said, opening the door. "This isn't the best time."

The Alpha looked past Dmitri at Trevor. "How's he doing?"

Dmitri was taken aback by the question. He expected another round of arguing, not what sounded like actual concern. "Still can't remember anything." Dmitri uttered in defeat. He felt useless, unable to help his mate in any other way than simply being there. "You have any idea on how to solve this?"

The Alpha looked at the scar that etched its way across Trevor's face. "It looks as if part of his brain was damaged or possible even destroyed." The Alpha was no medical expert, but he knew enough about how werewolves reacted to such trauma to be able to have a say. "It could still be healing."

"Does that mean he may get his memories back in time?" Dmitri said, clinging onto the little hope the analysis brought.

"Possibly." The Alpha shrugged. It was impossible to tell. If the brain didn't retain memories from the damaged parts then there would be no memories to regain, but if the brain managed to heal with memories intact, then it was only a matter of time. "It's impossible to tell."

"So I should just wait?"

The Alpha nodded, waiting was all they could do.

"He's leaving tomorrow." Dmitri whimpered, not caring if it made him sound weak. "His plane back to America leaves in the morning."

"I would let him go." The Alpha suggested.

"I know, but..."

"Don't hold him against his will." The Alpha rested his hand on his son's shoulder and guided them both inside. "If his memories do come back, he will return. If not, then..." He pursed his lips, trying to think of a way to say it without coming across as insensitive. "I'll make sure to have a nearby pack check up on him." Though the situation wasn't the best, the Alpha actually felt good giving counsel to his son. Too many times had he neglected to be a good father when he was forced to leave to attend to the rest of the pack. He actually hoped that the memories would return now that he saw just how much Dmitri cared.

Director Brennan was in the prime of his life. He had finally gotten the director position that he had his eyes on for so long. While it had only been a matter of time since the previous director had been unable to properly contain the werewolf situation due to some internal sabotage, he still felt great as he ran his fingers over the desk, his desk. Such a simple thing, a piece of carved wood that held so much symbolism in the modern world, now he held that power and he intended to use it.

Word had reached him that the body of an old operative was recovered deep in Siberia, a body which had something important for his future plans. He had told his scouts to only bring the device and leave the rest, there was no place for the dead when it was the living that would push humanity forward. His father would be proud of him, how the old retired man had taught him everything he knew to ensure that every werewolf would tremble at the sound of his name. That moment was soon approaching as he readied all of his plans.

"Director." A field agent, the field agent that Brennan had sent out, poked his head into the office.

"You have it?" Brennan said without even looking up, he was admiring the perfectly suave grain of the desk.

"Yes, sir." The agent, a fair-skinned man of twenty-three stepped fully into the office. His boots were dirty, a sign of his work in the field and his grey uniform worn from the cold winds, but that wasn't what Brennan looked at when he did turn away from his desk. His eyes went to the small cloth wrapped object in the man's hand. It was small, just barely fitting in the man's had.

"Set it down here." Brennan motioned to the desk and the man complied, putting down the object and then leaving when told to do so. Brennan would make sure to reward the man, not everyone managed to go deep into wolf territory and return fine. He also made note to send an order out for the other field agents who were combing other areas to return. The wolves were not idiots and his prodding into their lands would not go unnoticed.

Only when Brennan was alone did he allow himself to smile. He reached down to the corner of the piece of cloth and with a flick of his wrist, he uncovered the object. At first glance it looked like and amputated hand, but Brennan already knew that it wasn't. It was hard plastic and rubber instead of blood and flesh, also some metal in the thumb were a small switch was hidden.

"Know where all you enemies are before you strike. Know when to strike and know how to strike." Brennan hummed to himself as he lifted the hand and flipped open the top of the thumb to reveal the switch. It was a simple device and not entirely vital to his plans, but it was an advantage that he would not pass up. He set the hand back down on his table and then lifted up a cell phone whose blue shell was stained red in blood. It was found at the warehouse, a clue and yet another advantage.

While the phone itself didn't work due to damage to its battery and casing, the memory card had been intact. There had been numerous pictures stored on it, most of them were of Moscow and its tourist attractions and it could have been easily dismissed as being misplaced property, but there were also images of a known werewolf on it as well. A man and a 'wolf', standing together arm in arm looking up at the camera that took the picture. Further delving into the phone revealed the man's name, Trevor McKenzie and it seemed that he had a flight the next day, a flight whose last few seats had just been bought.