Chapter Two: Full Moon Rising
Author note: I apologize for the mistake I made when initially posting this story. For the six people who viewed my story in the first couple hours before I noticed a PM from Ghostwriter, I accidently reposted the first chapter of "Contingency Plan" instead of the first chapter of "Cops and Wolves". That mistake has been fixed and I sincerely apologize for that error. As an extra apology to all my readers for the error, please do enjoy a very rare double posting from me.
So if you haven't yet read the real first chapter for this story, please go read it now.
Special thanks to Ghostwriter for alerting me to the problem!
Jules finished changing into her night clothes, sniffling and sneezing. She'd ordered Sam to stay away until she was over her cold, but her boyfriend hadn't listened. He'd just shown up with a medical mask over his mouth and nose, blue eyes dancing at her. She'd laughed at how silly he looked, then let him bustle her to bed, promising soup and a movie. Too miserable to argue, the brunette crawled under her covers and absently prayed Sam wouldn't burn down her kitchen.
"Jules?"
"Decent," she rasped before coughing into her elbow.
Sam worked her door open, careful to keep the hot soup in his hands from falling, then brought the glass bowl over to her nightstand. He set it down long enough to retrieve her breakfast-in-bed tray from the nearby closet, then assembled her dinner in record time. "There's the soup," he announced cheerfully. "Now the movie."
"Sam, you don't have to," Jules croaked, stirring her soup and blowing on the first spoonful.
"Promised, didn't I?" Blue eyes laughed at her from above the mask and her wonderfully stubborn boyfriend made his way over to her bedroom TV to start setting up their movie. "Which movie do you want?"
Well, if he was going to insist… "101 Dalmatians," Jules declared. "Animated, then live action."
He froze an instant, then chuckled. "Sure thing, Jules. I haven't seen those in ages."
Bemused, the cold-ridden brunette watched the blond depart briefly to retrieve the discs, then set the first movie up. As the opening notes played, Sam crawled in next to Jules and she adjusted herself to lean against him as she ate her soup.
By the time Pongo and Perdita were celebrating their new litter of puppies, Jules had finished eating and set the soup bowl back on her nightstand, leaving the remainder of her meal for later. Sam adjusted his position to let Jules lean more against his chest, then draped an arm around her as they watched Cruella de Vil demand to purchase the newborn pups.
Pongo's furious barks and the thunder from the screen seemed…louder…than they should have been. Sam sat up, frowning as he turned the volume down. Then Jules' bedroom door slammed open.
Their attackers were on them in seconds; Jules screamed as she was ripped away from her boyfriend. Sam launched himself after her with a yell; a ragged man shoved him into her nightstand, sending the soup bowl and a lamp her father had given her flying.
"No!" Jules screeched, kicking at the man who held her. Barefoot and sick, her kicks did no good; her captor sneered. "Sam!"
She couldn't get free, but he wasn't giving up; the sniper rolled, coming up with her bedside backup piece. He fired, drawing a yowl from one of their attackers. Then a massive man who looked more like a wolf than a man kicked Sam in the chest and stepped on his gun hand, forcing him to drop the weapon.
A rag covered Jules' mouth; she struggled to keep from inhaling, but a coughing fit betrayed her. As her world went dark, she saw the wolf man hurl Sam through her window.
"Sam…"
In the background, thunder boomed from the TV as Cruella de Vil swore revenge and slammed the door behind her.
Sam hit the window, glass shattering around him as he fell. Bones snapped as he hit the ground; his scream ripped from his throat without a lick of permission. "Jules," he managed to whisper as lights clicked on and doors slammed.
"Call 911!" a woman yelled; then someone was next to him. "Sir! Hold still, the ambulance is on its way."
"Jules," he rasped. "They took Jules, call Sarge." He tried to lift his hand, but the woman pushed it down. "Phone," he gasped out. "Call. Sarge. Jules…"
His world dimmed as fire shot through his veins. Distantly, he heard the woman telling the dispatcher that her neighbor had been kidnapped, but the pain and his heartbeat drowned out anything else.
Jules…
Lou woke when his door slammed open and they dragged him out of bed; he clawed and fought, but the sweet-smelling rag over his nose and mouth ensured his struggles were weak, ineffectual, and swiftly quashed.
By the time Ed arrived at Jules' house, Sam's limp, unconscious body had been taken to the hospital and detectives were crawling all over the house, searching for clues.
"Ed!"
The team leader turned to see Wordy jogging up. "Where's the Boss?"
"Sarge called me; right after he called you, another detective called from Lou's apartment complex."
"Both Lou and Jules?" the bald sniper demanded in dismay.
"Sounds like it," Wordy confirmed grimly. "How's Sam?"
"I called Onasi; he said he'd take care of getting Sam transferred to St. Mungo's," Ed reported. "He's probably gonna be down a couple days though." Shaking his head, the team leader asked, "What the heck's going on, Word?"
"Heck if I know, Ed. Maybe one of Moffet's guys again?"
Ed gazed up at Jules' broken windows and winced, imagining the blond sniper's fall. Wordy might be right, but somehow…he had a feeling it was a whole lot worse than 'one of Moffet's guys'.
"Fenris Ulf is back in Toronto."
Commander Holleran didn't miss how his Sergeant stiffened at this announcement. "Why are we just now hearing about this?" he asked, a dangerous cant to his words.
Auror Onasi met his glare head on. "We only found out late yesterday, sir, when one of Toronto's Alphas reported an attack on her packmates."
"Were they hurt?" Parker interjected, alarmed.
The brunet shook his head. "No, they got away and Scarborough's Alpha Female came right in to report it." Sighing, Giles rubbed his stubbled chin. "She said Ulf's pack was planning on grabbing two new pack members. We figured they'd be Callaghan and Young; we were planning on telling you today." The Auror hung his head. "I didn't think they'd move so fast, Parker, or I would've pulled your people out yesterday, I swear."
The Sergeant's gaze switched from the abashed Auror to his superior, refusing to waste time on regrets or berating the beaten down Onasi. "Sir, the next full moon is tonight. Sam won't be out of the hospital for a week; glass embedded right above his spinal cord and he's lucky it wasn't severed. He's got broken ribs and the landing broke his collarbone in three places."
"I'll call Team Three in," Holleran agreed. Dark eyes pinned the Auror. "What about your people, Auror Onasi?"
"Simmons is asking for volunteers," Onasi reported, "We don't usually go after werewolves during the full moon; it's hazard duty and Simmons isn't asking any of the Aurors with families, so we won't get his full squad, but we'll get some Auror backup."
"Sergeant? Will that be enough?"
Eyes dark with fear lifted. "Let's get everybody in here, sir. We'll need to lay it out."
The briefing room was crowded with the four remaining members of Team One, the whole of a furious Team Three, seven volunteers from the Auror Division, Roy, Giles, and Commander Holleran. Sergeant Greg Parker surveyed the group, mentally wincing. Four of the Auror volunteers were the rookie Junior Aurors his team had first met at the Auror Academy. The others were jaded veterans unlikely to take a 'Muggle's' orders. Still. No time to debate.
"Spike," he ordered softly as he stepped to the front. On the glass screen behind him, the bomb tech brought up an overhead shot of the location his Sergeant had been able to pinpoint as their target. One hand swept out, indicating the open field. "This is our destination," Parker announced grimly. "We're not sure how many werewolves are in Fenris Ulf's pack, so everyone goes fully loaded, with at least four magazines of silver bullets, two for your sidearm, two for your submachine gun. If you need to swap, get behind someone who's still armed, and don't worry about dropping the old magazine. We'll sort everything out once the shooting stops."
"Shoot to kill," Ed added grimly. "You get bit and you're dead. One techie in a hundred can survive a werewolf bite; I'd rather not test those odds."
"No negotiation," Parker reinforced. "Werewolves would rip their own families apart if they could once they've transformed. The Toronto packs have all gotten in touch, reassuring the Auror Division that they'll be locked up tight tonight. Unis have been told to stay away from those areas and to ignore canine noise complaints." He paced back and forth, tension clear.
"Stay together, watch each other's backs; Jules and Lou are the priority, but keep yourselves safe, too. We know from Auror Division records that virtually every known member of Ulf's pack is wanted on multiple counts of murder and bites during the full moon. The oldest werewolves still have active warrants from the Second War; all of these werewolves have to be considered threat level red; armed, dangerous, and actively threatening law enforcement personal."
"That means you all have Scorpio," Team Three's Sergeant growled, earning a nod from his Team One counterpart.
Parker's gaze shifted to the Aurors. "Stick as close as you can and do what you can to cut down on the collateral damage; aside from no Unforgivables, anything goes tonight. Our job is to go in and get our people out; anything else is gravy." He stopped, turning to face his coworkers head on. "Any questions?"
"Sarge." Wordy's voice was heavy with reluctance. "What if they're waiting for us? They have to know we're coming."
"We could be walking into a trap," Donna agreed.
Greg swallowed hard. The smart thing, he knew, was to back off…let the pack have the two they'd taken and come down hard once the full moon was past. But to do that was to sacrifice two of his own – and he couldn't do that. Even if it was just him going in, he still would. He couldn't let his people die, not without fighting as hard as he could to get them back. No matter what the cost.