AN: Mark Benson is mentioned as a neighboring Alpha in my story Malediction du Loupgarou.

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CHAPTER 6

Which Way to Run

Hardison pulled up an app on his phone to translate the letter and Eliot didn't see anything that changed much from his own translation.

"What he's proposing is a trade; all of us for Brian." Hardison frowned at the letter.

"Just me. I don't want you two there." Eliot crossed his arms and leaned back into the couch but couldn't settle so he got up and started pacing slowly across the small room.

"It says you and your pack." Parker read over Hardison's translation again.

"You aren't wolves, and they will be expecting a pack of werewolves. I'll go and get Brian back. But I want you two to stay here." Eliot continued pacing.

"How's that going to work? I know you're good at what you do but you're pretty heavily outnumbered on this one and it's not like they don't know you're super-strong and super-fast, 'cause hell, they're werewolves too." Hardison didn't think that he could be any help in this situation, but he really hated the idea of Eliot going into it alone.

"The problem is that even if we let Brian die, they'll keep coming at us. This gives us a way to meet the threat head on. I don't want to continually be looking over my shoulder, wondering who they'll go after next. How they'll come at us again." Eliot continued to pace. He could smell the shock from Hardison when Hardison realized that he'd considered letting Brian die but Eliot didn't see any point in hiding the idea from them. It wouldn't be the first time he'd let an innocent die and while it would no doubt haunt him for years to come, he still counted his packs safety as more important than Brian. Fortunately for Brian, the trade of Eliot for Brian was what Eliot saw as the most expeditious way to ensure his packs safety.

"So you're just going to let them take you. Probably kill you. And what? You think that solves things?" Hardison glared at Eliot.

"We don't know enough yet." Parker mused and looked at the little box that held one of Brian's fingers. "We need to talk to them."

"You think they're just going to tell you all their plans?" Hardison let his snippy question out before he really thought about it.

Parker frowned at him. "Of course not. But if they want to negotiate…" Parker held up the letter that had been sent with the box. "And they do. Then they will talk to us."

Eliot nodded. "Okay fine. Hardison place the call." Eliot hadn't been thinking of the negotiation itself just the consequences.

Hardison called the number that had been the most active of the ones that he'd found that were associated with Griswold. The phone rang twice before someone answered and he put it on speaker before he set the phone on the coffee table.

"Mr. Spencer, I presume?" A man's voice with a very slight German accent drifted from the speaker.

"You have my attention Griswold." Eliot glared at the phone.

"Come to where your friends met Jean earlier, two hours." Griswold gave the name the French pronunciation that made it sound more like zsah than John. "How interesting, by the way, that your friends are human."

"I'll meet you in two hours." Eliot was about to hang up when Griswold spoke up again.

"Bring your friends or we kill Brian." Griswold sounded smug.

"Kill him then. I won't bring them." Eliot growled. He was still hoping to get Brian out alive, but he didn't want Griswold to think that Brian was important to him.

"Bring them or we hunt you all."

"Why should I? So you'll hunt us. You think you're the first?" Eliot was glad that they were doing this by phone because he couldn't control the quick spike of fear that slithered down his spine at the thought of werewolves hunting his pack.

Parker reached out and hung up the phone. "Best to end on a strong note."

"So what's the plan?" Hardison looked back and forth between Parker and Eliot.

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The gloaming found them standing at the gate to the ramp where Parker and Hardison had encountered the werewolf earlier in the day. Eliot still couldn't believe this was how things had worked out, but before he could launch another argument a small boat pulled up at the bottom of the ramp.

There were two werewolves and Brian in the boat. The first werewolf off the boat was Jean. His throat was wrapped in a bloodstained bandage and he glared at Parker and Hardison as he yanked Brian out of the boat and shoved him forward.

Eliot caught Brian as he stumbled and steadied him on his feet. "You'll be okay." He gently passed Brian off to Hardison.

Hardison wrapped an arm around Brian's shoulders and pressed a set of car keys and a folded paper into Brian's good hand. "Go to this address. They'll get you medical attention and keep you safe. They're expecting you and they know what's happening you can tell them everything. The address is already programed into the gps. Look for a blue car at the top of the hill."

Brian stared wide eyed at Hardison but nodded. He clutched the keys, wadding the paper, with his good hand while he kept his other hand cradled to his chest. The bandage around his mangled hand was looking ragged and dirty.

"Can you make it up the hill?" Hardison asked when Brian didn't immediately take off.

Brian nodded again and started to walk slowly at first but after a few glances behind him he started to make better progress through the Sand and Gravel yard and up their road that led to the parking lot at the top of the hill.

"I don't think that was your best course of action." Observed the second man that was still in the boat.

"You think I give a damn about what you think?" Eliot's eyes were yellow when he looked toward the boat. "You must be Jack." Eliot knew that most of the French people he'd ever met hated to have their name's American-ised.

"Jacques Roulet." The man glared back and Eliot could tell from the emphasis on the name that this guy was one that hated to have his name messed with.

"So, Jacky what's next?" Parker asked as she rocked forward just a little onto the balls of her feet.

"Our Alpha plans to challenge for leadership of this pack." Jacques smiled.

"Is he hiding in the bushes? If he wants to challenge then he'll need to face me." Eliot growled. He knew that he was too close to losing control when he felt his fingernails shift to claws and hair spring up dense and itchy under his clothes. Parker slipped her left hand into his right and held on until Eliot had regained his control and wasn't furry anymore.

"Our Alpha has been gracious enough to concede to only one witness from your pack being required. Whichever of these humans you consider as your second will be required to attend. You may send the other back." Disdain almost visibly dripped from Jacques words.

"If you think I'm gonna miss out on Eliot whuppin' your boss's fuzzy ass you can just think again." Hardison scoffed.

"Shall we proceed to the island?" Jacques tried to keep his pleasant tone but Eliot could smell the man's dislike of them. Jacques made a move it along gesture to Jean who hurried over to start frisking them.

Jean hurried toward Parker with a lascivious grin. "Arms out. Legs apart."

Parker stood as requested and Eliot moved a little to stand beside her. Jean patted up Parker's left leg and when he got higher than mid-thigh Eliot let out a low growl. Jean flinched and tried to cover it with more patting but Parker just rolled her eyes. She knew that all of them had seen it and his show only emphasized it. Coming down her right leg he paused and started sniffing mid shin to ankle.

"Do we have a problem?" Jacques asked from the boat.

"Only if you friend here tries to lift his leg." Hardison called back.

"No I don't think so. Just bacon grease and car oil." Jean called after shooting an ugly look Hardison's way.

Eliot hadn't thought too much about the faint bacon scent he'd picked up on Parker since they'd left the safe house. They had eaten bacon with breakfast so it wasn't a completely unexpected smell. Before Eliot could really puzzle it out Jean moved on to patting down Parker's torso. "Watch where you put your hands." Eliot growled out the words even though Jean hadn't done anything indecent yet. In a couple seconds Jean was done with Parker and moved on to Hardison.

"How'd you get away with this? There's no way that the employees haven't noticed you guys out here." Parker stepped past Eliot and headed for the small boat.

As she walked past Eliot noticed that he could smell Parker's genuine curiosity but he couldn't feel it through the pack bonds. He put a hand on her arm and when she turned toward him he raised his eyebrow in question and placed his hand on his chest where he associated his link to the pack.

"You need to focus. No distractions." She smiled and stepped into the boat.

He realized that she was somehow controlling the connection from her side. He didn't have time to work it out now and he had to admit that not feeling what the pack was feeling right now might help. He waited at the side of the boat until Hardison got in and sat next to Parker before he climbed aboard and took a seat facing them.

"Maybe Jacky isn't in the know." Hardison picked up Parker's nick-name for Jacques.

"What?" The question was growled by Jacques, from behind Hardison and Hardison didn't flinch.

"You never answered her question. How are yall gettin' away with hanging out on an island that is used privately for a business?" Hardison raised his voice to be heard over the sound of the boat motor.

"The owner's son owed us quite a lot in gambling debts. Told his father that we are friends from college." Jacques called back.

Eliot could smell a shift in emotions from Jean. Jean was sitting in the prow of the boat and Eliot had his back to him so that he could face Hardison and Parker, and Jacques at the back of the boat. Eliot locked eyes with Jacques. "If your buddy tries to use that knife I can smell, I'll gut him with it and throw his body overboard."

Jacques tried to hold Eliot's gaze be he just wasn't dominant enough. He looked past Eliot's shoulder and called off Jean with a slight shake of his head.

It took almost no time to cross this short stretch of river to get to the island. Jacques ran the boat up onto the beach and cut the motor at the last moment. When the boat came to a stop Eliot hopped over the side onto the sandy soil and held his hand out for Parker. Parker and Hardison climbed out of the boat and stood near Eliot.

With a little snarling to establish the fact that Griswold's men would lead the way while Eliot and his pack followed behind; they made their way up the low bank and through the trees. Part way up the small hill Parker stumbled near a tree and fell to the ground. She held her ankle for a moment. Eliot who had been right behind her crouched down to see if she needed help.

"You okay?" Eliot asked and reached for her ankle.

She swatted his hand away. "Just fine Sparky."

Hardison noticed the look that passed between Parker and Eliot, but he didn't understand it.

"Just be careful." Eliot admonished as he helped Parker to her feet.

They emerged from the trees into the open space of the gravel pits. Flood lights flashed on blinding Parker and Hardison. Eliot had kept his face down in anticipation of something like this. Griswold used the flash of the lights to make it seem like he had just appeared in front of them.

"Griswold, you really think the smoke and lights are necessary? I thought you wanted to challenge for leadership of my pack not take me out for dinner and a show." Eliot smirked.

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Brian had almost made it to the top of the road in the Sand and Gravel yard when he heard the boat motor start up. He turned and waited a moment but no one followed him so he decided to go look for the car that Mr. Hardison had given him the keys to. Three days ago, he was pretty sure, those maniacs had kidnapped him and two days ago they'd cut off his left index finger. Just the thought of it made his hand throb all over again. He thought about just heading for the closest police station but he didn't want to get locked up in a phsyc ward. Maybe he could leave out the part that involved people turning into freakishly big wolves. Still though, what cop was going to believe an ex-con like him, when he told them he'd been kidnapped by people he didn't know who cut off his finger and then just let him go? Mr. Hardison had really been helping him turn his life around and he seemed to know what was going on here so maybe he should just go to this Mark Benson guy in Corvallis.

Brian turned north on Milwaukie Ave and had to remind himself not to speed. He didn't want to get pulled over in the shape he was in. As he made the left that would take him across the Ross Island Bridge there was a bright flash of light from Ross Island. He wanted to help Mr. Hardison and the others but there was no way in hell he was going back.

On the other side of the bridge he pulled over at the nearest gas station he could find. He took a look in the ash trays and glove box in the car and found three hundred dollars in small bills. The money had been rolled up and rubber banded with a note that read: Use it for whatever you need to ~Eliot. Brian smiled for a second and peeled a twenty off the roll. Eliot had always struck him as a practical guy that had probably been in a few scrapes. He had enjoyed encouraging the rest of the staff to pick up on the Mr. Eliot thing that Robert had started. It was something that Eliot seemed to find disconcerting and Brian figured that was something that didn't happen often. He hoped his next idea was more helpful, but his hand was really hurting and he couldn't take the time to come up with a better plan.

Brian went into the gas station and headed straight for the coolers. He would have liked to go straight for the restroom but no doubt it was locked and he'd need to get the key from the clerk. He grabbed two sports drinks and a couple of extra-large candy bars before he went up to the counter.

The clerk eyed Brian up and down a couple of times. "You alright man?"

"Car trouble." His response was almost automatic but he wasn't sure it was a very good explanation for his disheveled appearance. "Been a rough day. You guys have a pay phone around here?" He hadn't seen a payphone in years. He wasn't even sure the things still existed but he did need a phone now.

"No, but we got those disposable ones." The clerk pointed at a stand near the opposite wall.

"I just need to make one call. Any chance I could use yours?" Brian nodded at the phone plugged into the charger behind the clerk. He didn't have much left from the twenty but he slid what was left back across the counter.

"Fine. Make it quick and you can't go nowhere." The clerk slid the money into his pocket and handed the phone to Brian.

Brian had a pretty decent memory for numbers and Mr. Ford had asked him to memorize a telephone number on his last visit to the pub. Brian had noticed some of the odd things going on around the pub and Mr. Ford had noticed his noticing. Instead of telling him to keep his nose out of things Mr. Ford had given him a phone number and asked him to call it if he ever thought that Mr. Hardison or his friends were in trouble. Tonight seemed like the definition of trouble so he called the number.

"Who's this?"

"Mr. Ford? Is that you?" Brian hadn't hoped that it was actually Mr. Ford's number.

"Brian? From the Brew Pub?" Nate sounded confused.

"Yes. They are in real trouble. They're on the east side of Ross Island. You need to send…I don't know…somebody."

"Thanks for the call Brian. Are you okay?"

"Um, yah I guess. Mr. Hardison told me to find a Mark Benson?" He didn't have any idea if that was really the best plan or not.

"In Corvallis?"

"Yah."

"Good. Go there. Tell him Eliot sent you but I'm sure he'll be expecting you."

"There were…" He looked over his shoulder at the clerk and did his best to whisper. "There were wolves. Giant freaking wolves. You need to be careful." Brian didn't know why he'd told Mr. Ford about the wolves. It sounded crazy, even to him, and he'd been there, with the wolves.

"You be careful too. Now hang up and go to Corvallis, find Mark." Nate hung up. He didn't want to tell Brian that Mark and his people were the kind that turned into 'giant freaking wolves', and he hoped that Brian didn't find out.

Brian slid the phone back onto the counter and grabbed his shopping bag before bolting out the door.

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As soon as Nate recognized Brian Walker's voice he grabbed his wallet and motioned for Sophie to grab her purse and head out the door. By the time he hung up with Brian he and Sophie were in their rental car and pulling out of the hotel parking lot. He'd been hoping the team would call them in if they needed help, or at least to let them know things had gone sideways, but Nate had never met three more independent and bull-headed people.

"You were right, go ahead and say it." Nate said without turning to look at Sophie. He sped through an intersection and changed lanes as he headed them toward the closest marina.

"I was right. I told you we should have bloody well called and told them we were here." Sophie gripped her seat belt as Nate took a sharp corner. "Now we just have to get there in time."

Nate pulled to a stop behind several parked cars in the parking lot above the marina. "Can you find that spot on the bike trail that Parker and Hardison were at today? There should be a vehicle maintenance access on the north end." They'd been following the team's movements via their earbud locations throughout the day. Well more precisely, Nate had because Sophie had declared that the whole thing made her crazy and she had moved over to the other end of the hotel couch where she pretended not to look at what was going on.

"Yes. I'll do my best." Sophie had seen the spot that Nate had circled on his map of Portland and she had remembered it because of the Sand and Gravel Company there. Before she and Nate had retired the Sand and Gravel Company's continued dredging of the lagoon had gotten a lot of bad press in the local papers. She pulled away and started driving for the nearest bridge to take her across the river.

Nate jogged down the small hill and onto the dock. He was looking for an old boat; something with an old key style ignition. Parker had told him once that the fastest way to 'hotwire' a car or an old boat was to jam a screwdriver into the ignition switch where the key should go and crank it over like you would the key. While it wasn't subtle or very elegant it was certainly easier than trying to figure out the wiring harness on the fly. "Finally!" Nate almost shouted when he finally came across an old boat tied up toward the middle of the long dock. He glanced around but didn't see any lights on in any of the nearby boats or any other signs that there might be other people nearby. Nate yanked the cover off the boat and let it fall into the water as he hopped down into the craft. He opened the little bag he'd brought with him and found a screwdriver that he thought would be a good size for the job.

In no time Nate was headed down the Willamette River on his way to Ross Island. The night was chilly, and before very long he was wishing he'd brought his jacket. Even though there was plenty of water traffic on the river, day or night, he didn't see any other craft nearby. He let go of the wheel for a moment to search through the cargo bins that were built into the seats. After considerable rummaging, and a pause in the search to redirect the boat's course, he found a teal-colored windbreaker. He didn't care for the color and in his head he could hear Parker saying: "Beggars can't be choosers and that's why I'm a thief." In this case he supposed that the thief couldn't be a chooser either, if he wanted to stay warm.

Now that he was more prepared to deal with the elements Nate increased the speed of the old boat to about as fast as he thought the old motor could go without giving out on him. Before long the buoys that warned of a water hazard and marked the northern most reaches of Ross Island came into view. He slowed as he got closer to the side of the island that opened into the lagoon. Brian had told him that the team was on the eastern side of the island, but they had had plenty of time to be anywhere on the island by now or even off of it. On the south side of the lagoon where the man-made beaches for the sand and gravel company were at, he spotted lights. The gravel pits weren't usually lit at night since it seemed to invite troublemakers, so that seemed like enough of an indicator for Nate to start working out a more solid plan.

Nate started past the lagoon but cut the engine as he approached the edge of the island. He guided the old boat toward the shore and let it drift to a stop not far from a slightly newer skiff. Someone had tied the skiff off to a tree that was growing in the water by the shore. Assuming that this boat belonged to the wolves that Brian had seen Nate didn't want to leave them with a functional craft.

Nate found the cap for the skiff's fuel tank and unscrewed it. He'd found a length of hose, with a rubber football shaped hand pump in the middle of it, in his own boat when he'd searched it earlier and he used it now to siphon the fuel out of the tank. After siphoning the fuel out, he took a moment to pump river water back into the fuel tank. He had wanted to rush up the bank as soon as he'd gotten there but he knew that the team was amazingly competent in any situation and that this would be more useful if they needed to make a quick getaway.

After sabotaging the fuel tank Nate made his way up the bank, keeping to the trees. He worked his way along the edge of the trees until he had a good view of what was going on. He could see Parker and Hardison standing near the edge of a large shallow gravel pit. The shape of the pit and the sound of the river muffled most of the sound of the fight, but Nate was still able to hear some of the fight that was playing out in the pit.

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AN: Jean Grenier was fourteen, in 1603, when he confessed to a girl he had a crush on that he was a werewolf. The girl turned him in and he was put on trial and convicted for being a werewolf. Because of his age they sent him to a monastery instead of having him executed. The monks reported that he would only eat meat scraps and ran around on all fours. They also attested to his wolfish appearance.