AN: I do not own Teen Wolf or the Bourne movies.

Two sociopaths sat across from each other in an office darkened by the grey, snow-laden clouds outside. They each had steaming mugs clutched in their hands.

The man behind the mahogany desk sipped his honeyed green tea. Though in the Army he had never risen above the rank of Captain, he had been recruited early on by the CIA for their – shall we say – more delicate operations. Now, he was one of the most powerful men in the United States. He was more powerful, in many ways, than the President, though most people would never learn his name. It was David Cross, but many called him the Puppeteer behind his back, because his hands controlled so many strings of fate. One twitch of the finger or quirk or the lips, and a bomb might explode in Libya, or an office building might collapse in India. Secretly, he liked his nickname.

The other man was in his forties, tall and muscular, with thick brown hair. His mug had black coffee in it. He was known as Alpha 2. Once, his name had been Peter Hale. No one called him that anymore, except for the Puppeteer.

"We need to discuss your nephew," Mr. Cross said mildly. "He has evaded us several times in less than three days. I understand he even murdered Alpha 3." He more than understood it. He had seen the body as it was brought in secret to the morgue hidden in a doctor's office outside of Langley, Virginia. The throat had been ripped away with terrible ferocity. The bullet wound, Alpha 3's undoing, looked so small in comparison. His body had morphed back into the cheerful young man he'd once been.

"Isaac was never a very powerful wolf," Peter remarked. Even though he had turned Isaac a few years before, he had been well aware of the wolf's limitations, and in retrospect, recognized he might not have been the best candidate for the bite. He drank his coffee. The bitterness was shocking. "I wouldn't put too much of the blame on him. Besides, the bullet would is obvious evidence of a second person in the apartment. That's who I think really killed him. There was a distinct... humanness in the air."

They both nodded solemnly into their cups.

"I tracked them all the way to Ohio," Peter continued. "That old Jeep was abandoned outside Culpeper and a new model Camry was abandoned about a hundred miles after that." He took another drink, mostly to muffle the admission: "I'm not sure what they're driving now. I lost their scent."

Mr. Cross pursed his lips. He set his cup down on the desk, careful to place it directly on the coaster. "I see. Has everyone from the medical office been accounted for, Peter?"

He was careful to use the man's name, especially since he already knew the answer. He had the information in a manila folder in his desk.

Peter shook his head, still not meeting the Puppeteer's eyes. "They thought they got everyone in the first sweep. After a few hours they realized they'd miscounted and an intern, a med student named Jarogniew – Jarogniew? – Stilinski had gotten away. Not... 100% sure what happened to him. We're still looking." Alpha 2 was an alpha wolf. He was the most powerful of his kind. Even he quailed under the steady gaze of the Puppeteer. Everyone did.

"I see," the Puppeteer said again. He sighed and reached into a desk drawer. Before Peter knew what had happened, an electroshock baton was pressed against his chest and delivering over 20,000 volts into him. Though far more than that was needed to truly incapacitate a werewolf, Peter fell out of his chair with a howl in pain. He growled as he stood, dusting invisible specks of dust off his leather jacket.

"I don't like to be disappointed, Peter. You know this. Even I can put together that Jarogniew Stilinski and Alpha 1 are traveling together." David Cross was suddenly mild. The baton had disappeared and Mr. Cross was swallowing the last dregs of his tea. Peter growled again. He sat down gingerly and finished his coffee. They stared at each other for several minutes without speaking.

"How did they even find each other?"

The Puppeteer picked at his fingernails absentmindedly, ignoring the question. Regardless of how they found each other, security cameras from a gas station near Morgantown, West Virginia showed them together. Alpha 1 had been filling the tank of the soon-to-be-abandoned Camry and the Stilinski boy had a twinkie already out of the package crammed in his mouth. "How would you deal with them?" He didn't look at Peter as he said it.

Peter cracked his neck and said sullenly, "Derek needs an Alpha. I knew he would never submit to Isaac; he'd rather die. He always did have a stubborn streak, even as a boy."

"I said," the Puppeteer was dangerously quiet, "how would you deal with them?" The "you" was stressed infinitesimally.

"I would kill his pack. This kid, Derek will kill to protect him. An omega wolf craves pack as much as he craves food or water. Then I would make him submit. And then," Peter finished with flashing red eyes, "then I would kill him."

David Cross nodded once. "Your last remaining family. Are you sure you can handle that?"

Peter had had enough by then. He stood from his chair, eyes still bright red. "I sold him out once before."

"But you never actually lit the match, did you? That was Kate Argent's job, if I recall correctly." The Puppeteer stood as well. He was several inches shorter than his fellow sociopath, but again, the controlled power and coldness surrounding him made him the clear center of power no matter where he went.

"She did what she was supposed to," Peter replied. "And then she was taken care of. Simple."

The other man gave a short, barking laugh. "Seducing your nephew and handing your family over to the hunters was her job. Not to kill everyone."

"Everything worked out in our favor," Peter grumbled. "I think it was even more effective in the end, having him rescued after such a... trying ordeal. And everyone got what they wanted."

Before Peter could reach for the door, David handed him the manila envelope. "This is your next assignment. A bit of history for you. Oddly enough, Jarogniew Stilinski is also from Beacon Hills."

"Do you think they'll go back there?"

The Puppeteer shook his head. "No yet. But after you're finishing... persuading his family, they'll come."

Peter put his hand on the doorknob.

"And Peter?"

He looked back without meeting Mr. Cross's eyes.

"Try not to kill Alpha 1. He is valuable to us."

Peter left.

The Puppeteer sank back into his chair. Pressing an intercom button, he said, "Frances?"

The intercom crackled. "Yes, Mr. Cross?"

"Would you mind terribly getting me another tea? Less honey this time."

"Of course, Mr. Cross. Is there anything else I can get for you?"

"Would you call my wife, let her know I might be late for supper this evening?"

"What about your son's game?"

He swore under his breath. "Give me an hour then. Hopefully I can have all this paperwork cleared up, but if not I might have to miss it."

"I'll check back in with you in an hour then."

She was a wonderful assistant, really.

Peter waited until he was far away in the Virginia forests before transforming into the hulking wolf he could become. He was still bristling with anger. A kill would settle his stomach and ease his mind. Then he would start out for Beacon Hills.

He slowly approached the isolated house. It was brightly lit inside and he could hear five distinct heartbeats. Three of them were young and fast. The horses in the barn reared up and screamed in their stalls, but it wasn't them he was after.

AN part two: Thanks to everyone who's liked the story so far! A special thanks goes to Lisa (soglideaway dot tumblr dot com). Check her out! And feel free to check out mine as well. Link's in my profile!