Chapter 16

The road to the old church proved dark and empty at this time of night. No traffic, no house, not a single streetlight, which made their headlights all the more noticeable.

He wasn't surprised when Ares pulled over about a kilometer before their destination.

"We'll send up the drone from here."

Bessie, driven by Gramps, rumbled to a stop behind them. Grams stuck her head out. "You flying the bird?"

"Yes, ma'am." Ares had it sitting on the ground with a controller in hand. As he concentrated on getting it into the air and scouting, Derek headed to Bessie to chat with his Grams.

"You sure you two are good to do this?" The bruises on them had blossomed. Grams sported a black eye that had swelled and left it open just a slit.

"Are you really insulting me right now, you little bastard?" she grumbled.

"So sorry. I keep forgetting you're too ornery to die."

Grams inclined her head in Ares' direction. "I like him. Pity we don't have a granddaughter for him to date."

"Well, he still might end up family if things with Athena work out."

"They will," Grams stated with assurance. "After all, wolves mate for life."

His breath stopped. "Er, what?"

"Don't even try to deny it. We heard everything."

Stupid doorbell cam. "You can't tell anyone." Something Ares had stressed on the drive over.

"Duh." Grams rolled her eyes. "As if I'd do anything to jeopardize my future grandbabies."

Babies? "Whoa, you old bat, we're just dating."

"Just?" she snorted. "You're about to go to war for the girl. Just like your gramps did for me."

Gramps grunted. "Would do it again too. And before you ask, boy, the war she's talking about was down in South America. We needed cash, and so we joined a mercenary outfit."

"Wait, what about Dad?"

"Left him with my sister. We was only gone a few months."

"Our first kill was done as a couple." Grams smiled fondly at Gramps. "Remember how he came out of the jungle with that bomb strapped to his chest?"

"Two bullets to the head. Dropped him in his tracks before he could detonate."

The things he'd never known…

Speaking of unknown, it took thirty minutes before Ares returned to report.

"There are two unmarked vans and four cars parked by the old church, around back, out of sight. A generator is back there as well. Outside, I spotted four men patrolling. Two more in the bell tower. I don't know how many inside but counted at least two, who popped out for a smoke."

"So some security but not an insane amount."

"Not surprising," Grams stated. "Too many cars and strange faces in the area would draw attention. Then there's the budget. This doctor had to relocate, which would have cost big bucks. Then there's the salary of those mercenaries. Could be a case of the purse running low."

"Let's hope so, because a dozen men would be a cinch for us to handle, especially if we pick some of them off ahead of time." Ares glanced at Gramps. "How's your aim?"

"You'll want Grams for any sniping. Still has the best shot of the two of us."

"Then why isn't she the one hunting?" Derek asked.

"Because these bones hate the cold and damp. Speaking of, I've got hot cocoa in a thermos and cookies in a tin. Anyone want a snack?" Grams had a thing about feeding people, apparently even in times of intense stress.

They ate and drank while reviewing the footage. Despite Derek's trepidation, it really did seem as if slamming Bessie through the front door would be their best option for getting inside.

As dawn approached, they readied themselves and ate yet again, as Grams insisted they fill their bellies. She might have been right, since he felt wide awake after. Which led to him eyeing her with suspicion. "What was in those muffins and that protein shake?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Grams…" He injected a warning tone.

"Just a few vitamins and some caffeine… oh and something that I'm not allowed to talk about because it's not technically on the market."

"What the fuck?" he exclaimed.

"I just told you I can't tell you what the fuck it is. Suffice it to say it acts as a bit of an upper. Think of it as a jolt of adrenaline that doesn't wear off for a few hours." Grams grinned.

"Is it safe?" he exclaimed.

"Seemed to work fine for a certain elderly politician." And that was all she'd say.

With the lights turned off, Derek rode once more with Ares, as they would be the ones rushing in after Bessie smashed her way through. Grams had her rifle and scope and sat in the gunner seat, the safety already off the mini mounted machine gun, ready to mow down any opposition, while Gramps drove. They would only exit the vehicle if they had no other choice. Derek had made them promise. Bessie was bulletproof. They weren't.

When Grams pointed out he was made of meat as well, he growled, "If you get killed, I will piss on your grave daily."

"And if you die, you little bastard, I'll never bake cookies again."

Their version of I love you.

As prepared as they could be, they went to war.

Or so it felt.

He and Ares were grim-faced as they neared the old church, rolling slowly in the dark, hoping for the element of surprise, if that was even possible given the growl of the pickup and the even more intense rumble of Bessie.

Soon as they pulled into the church parking lot, overgrown with weeds and even a few saplings pushing through pavement, bright lights turned on, projecting from the bell tower, highlighting them. A voice barked, "You are in a restricted area."

Derek eyed Ares. "If I don't make it, tell Athena I love her, even if she's hairier than me."

Ares' lips quirked. "You'd better make it out alive, or I have a feeling I'll be just as dead as you because my sister will kill me."

The guy on the megaphone still shouted. "Step out of the vehicles with your hands up." Apparently, they were no longer being allowed to leave.

"Showtime," Ares announced, hopping out without a qualm. Derek moved slower. Convinced he'd be shot. Wondering at their madness in thinking they could act as an extraction team. They didn't have the experience or?—

Pop .

The guy in the bell tower fired first, the slug embedding in the door of the truck, dropping Derek's jaw. These guys weren't messing around.

Grams shouted, "Fucker, how dare you shoot at my grandson!"

"Surrender now or—" Whoever bellowed in the megaphone cut off mid-sentence as Grams took him out. Either the guy had nerves of steel and didn't scream from his injury, or Grams killed them.

Killed a man.

This was happening.

Holy shit. Derek remained ducked behind the truck's door. He glanced through the cab to Ares crouched on the other side.

Bessie went from idling to moving. Grams' head and shoulders peeked from the hatch in the top as she took aim with her rifle, rather than mowing them down with the mounted machine gun.

Pop . This time someone did yell as they fell from the bell tower. One sniper taken out, but that still left possibly one more and the patrolling guards, who took notice. They hid where they could and began shooting. No one came out of the church, though.

So Bessie went to them.

Crunch . The armored vehicle slammed into the wooden doors, and they tore open, along with part of the stonework. Grams had ducked back into Bessie, but that didn't prevent her from firing with the mounted artillery. Tika-tika-tika . She shot at whoever she saw inside. Hopefully not innocents. Please not Athena. They had assumed them stashed in the basement, but what if they were wrong?

Too late now.

Hearing the bang of a gun followed by a grunt, he glanced at Ares. The man had a hand slapped to his shoulder. Blood seeped from under it.

"Fucker shot me." With that, Ares took off running, and Derek cursed. He couldn't leave the guy alone at the same time his grandparents were inside.

Within a bullet-proof truck. Shooting the bad guys.

Ares needed him more.

Derek sprinted around the truck. Of the man, there was no sign, unless the clothes on the ground, wreathed in a rising mist, counted.

The snarl preceded a high-pitched scream, and it took Derek only a second to pinpoint where and then gape. Despite the fog beginning to swirl, he saw the wolf that savaged a man on the ground.

A big fucking wolf.

Like, huge.

Fuck.

Me.

He's.

A.

Werewolf.

Hearing Ares claim it and seeing it? Two different things. It also drove home how important it was to get Athena and her family out of here.

The wolf swung his head and yipped.

While Derek didn't speak canine, it didn't take much to guess what he said.

Get your ass inside and free them.

So much for them going together. Then again, if Ares kept the mercs busy outside, then that was less for Derek to deal with inside the church.

A gun fired, and a bullet dug into the ground by Ares. The wolf sprinted in the direction it came from, the mist swallowing his shape. Derek ran for the church, where weapons still fired.

He slipped in through the opening Bessie created, hugging the side, the settling dust helping to conceal his arrival. The lights strung from the vaulted ceiling showed more people inside than predicted. He counted five bodies and at least a dozen more shooting just on this floor. What did that leave in the basement? Didn't matter. He still had to go.

Unlike his grandparents, Derek had a revolver, not a rifle, wanting the smaller maneuverability of the weapon especially in close range. While not a sharpshooter like his Grams, he could hit what he aimed at.

His hand was steadier than expected as he gripped the gun. He'd expected to be nervous. Even a bit afraid. After all, this wasn't a fisticuff situation where both parties would walk away. These guys were shooting to kill. If he didn't do the same, he'd die and then Athena, her family, and his family were fucked.

He inched around the outer edge of the room, the dust in the air making it hard to see much. The images they'd studied of the church, with its rotting pews and faded frescoes on the wall didn't resemble the current space. The whole main floor had been cleared for desks and machines. Medical devices, he surmised, seeing some holding vials. The lights on them blinked, motors whirred, and something kept beeping.

There were computers too, the keyboards and their monitors abandoned, most likely when the shooting started.

He saw one woman face down on the floor, shivering in her white coat. Not a mercenary. Just someone working for Rogers. As he crept past, she turned her head and saw him. Her eyes widened.

He tried to give her a reassuring look.

She pushed herself to a sitting position and, to his disbelieving gaze, pulled a gun.

He didn't think; he fired, his shot slightly wild but still hitting, striking her in the shoulder. She shouted in pain and dropped her weapon.

Grams would probably yell at him, but he didn't fire a finishing bullet.

Instead, he moved faster, heading to the stairs, and ran into his first mercenary. The guy held a gun and stood guard at the top of the staircase, his goggles hiding his eyes, a gaiter covering the lower half of his face. He looked a lot like a bad guy in one of his video games, making it easier this time to take aim and fire.

The merc went down without firing his gun, and a moment later, Derek had his foot on the first step.

Which was when the lights went out.