Deep thumps of heavy booted paws echoed down the silent hallway, accompanied by a lighter patter and tack-tack-tack of claws.
Though the hallway screamed medical facility, the beasts that stalked the hallway gave no impression of a medical practitioner.
Garou Loveless, a Dire Wolf whose mere appearance emanated strength, loped a few steps behind a shorter beast dressed in a military suit and adorned with a red tie.
Only the hum of the central cooling system produced any accompanying sound as the two made their way to their destination, sharing hardly a whisper of a breath between them.
As they arrived at a large elevator, the shorter beast finally uttered a word: “Your visit today. Mr. Loveless was unexpected, sir, but most welcome. The Pack has been rather eager to meet with you again since your bid for the presidency.”
Garou stood motionless, arms crossed behind his back as he watched the lights on the elevator floor panel slowly light up, gold and black eyes unblinking. “Did it appear that way to you?”
“W-What ever do you mean, sir?”
A low growl burbled out of the taller creature’s chest. “My ‘bid for the Presidency’, was that all it seemed to you? Because I assure you, I made no such inclination towards it being a simple ‘bid’.”
The elevator dinged as the large doors glided open, revealing the small space within.
Standing motionless, neither two beasts made a move for opened door. The smaller of which stuck where he stood with fear.
“Sir. Loveless, I must have been mistaken. Pardon my audacity; my m-memory must be failing in me in my old age.” Fear had a strange way of taking the words right out of one’s mouth. “You clearly stated that you would take the title, ascending to the Oval Office. Ah, yes, there it is. Now I remember.”
Garou stepped past the trembling, weaker beast as he propped himself up against the corner of the elevator, eyes fixed on the accompanying officer. “You would do better to remind yourself of such facts when addressing me in the future.” The door closed, trapping the impossibly menacing Garou Loveless within.
The officer would later turn up dead, for that both of them were certain.
***
“Fucking disgusting habit they have us on; I couldn’t get myself wet even if Hugh Jackman were standing fucking nude right in front of me,” ranted Syndel, the maned wolf, as she swallowed her daily allotment of medication. One of which had been the libido-suppressant, which, as a member of The Pack, was required to take in order to avoid distractions of the flesh.
“Aye, quit’cha bitching, Syn, ain’t no one want to go’un fuck a lanky, leggy bitch like youself anyhow.” Chided the massive, slobbering beast sitting across the table from her, shoving what appeared to be a Salisbury steak patty drenched in brown sauce into his gaping maw.
Syndel slammed her fist against the table as she downed the last of her handful of pills, tipping a cup of water over into the adjacent beast’s tray. “If you had any goddamn sense, Rebar,” she snarled, “you’d keep that ugly maw of yours shut!”
“Oi, feisty lass, as always. Ol’ Loveless lets you off’o you leash for just a day, an’ you start thinking horny again. Best you know your place, girlie.” Rebar was the heavy unit within The Pack—a truly gigantic Water Ox. Fed an extensive diet of protein, enriched carbs and kept to a strict workout routine.
His stature reflected his strength. Standing at seven feet at maximum height, Rebar Ghaleon was an absolute force to be reckoned with on the battlefield.
And yet, despite all that power and bluster, he still sank into his seat as the large set of doors swung open, revealing the CEO of MegaCo and future POTUS-to-be standing beside their commanding officer.
“All right, you lot, form up!” the smaller beast yelled.
Garou remained motionless, standing beside the door as the smaller beast that had ushered him in called members of The Pack to formation. Militarized beyond rational thinking, the seven beasts quickly gathered together in varying degrees of presentation and readiness, having dropped whatever they’d been doing in a single heartbeat.
The leader of The Pack stood at Garou’s side, an elk dressed in a finely pressed military-grade uniform adorned with various badges and honors.
Unlike Rebar the Musk Ox, who nearly flipped the entire breakfast bar table over while standing up, his size did not betray his natural grace. Zophar had served in many campaigns spearheaded by the US military in his day.
It was, however, one particularly successful campaign during the War in Iraq that left his entire squad dead, along with many innocent civilians, that led to the elk being discharged.
He’d been deemed dangerous despite his ability to get the job done. The details of said events had been redacted or kept off the record entirely, or so he had been told.
But these things rarely stopped Garou Loveless and the documents had, somehow, found their way to Garou’s office.
Now, he stood here beside Garou Loveless, one of the most powerful beasts in the world. The small, but extremely dangerous troop of super soldiers known simply as ‘The Pack’ standing in formation before him, each beast specializing in a specific talent above all else, some obvious by looking at them, others not so much.
***
The dire wolf looked over each of the seven soldiers one by one, relishing the sight, knowing they could take hold of just about any facility in the country should he dispatch them.
They were just that dangerous.
Garou was the common link for all the members, but they didn’t know the reasons. They only knew Loveless had brought them together under his command, one by one, over the years.
“It is nice to see everybeast once again. I take it Tasker and Syndel have shared with you some of the finer details of their recent mission?” Garou quizzed in his viciously calm and buttery smooth voice.
The Pack members collectively responded with a “Yes, sir!”
“Good, good. I must apologize for the unannounced visit here today; I know it’s hardly unlike me to do such a thing,” he walked up to the maned wolf, clutching her chin between his thumb and index finger. “It’s seldom I get to see you all living so… casually, so to speak.”
Their eyes explored each other, an act that Garou knew weakened the maned wolf in a way that she’d allow him to do just about whatever he wanted to her, given the right circumstances.
But today, he knew, it would have no effect thanks to the sex drive-inhibiting medication.
“Syndel Cardinal, sharp and beautiful as always,” He stated before moving to the next soldier.
The spotted hyena that had also accompanied him to Brickhedge. Tasker “Task” Beachwood. Garou was proud of this one; Having groomed the street rat from the very beginning, then taking him in a night of rough, violent sex on his eighteenth birthday.
“Tasker Beachwood, keeping your mind and eyes sharp, I hope?”
“Sir, yes sir!” he shouted.
Garou had no specific role in mind for Tasker when he threw him into the Hierarchy program but was surprised when he showed a particular prowess for long-range rifles. From there, the hyena had been trained extensively in the field and had become a dangerously low-profile killing machine.
Garou squared up with the giant Musk Ox. “Rebar Ghaleon. I see our experimental muscle-building program has taken off. We may have to alter your intake and routines in the future. It would be a real pity should you split yourself open before you even get to try these muscles out..”
Further exchanges were made with the other four members of The Pack but kept brief as Garou moved quickly into the proceedings.
“I will admit now, however, that I had a rather important reason for being here today, and it involves the town in which I held my rally in.” Lamented the dire wolf as he stood erect before his prized trained army of the world’s deadliest beasts.
“Are we going to burn it to the ground, sir?” The covert ops specialist asked, a Vole of diminutive size and stature. A simple mohawk sat atop his head. “I can make it look like an accident. You know me, sir.” The vole was childlike in appearance, voice, and tone, an unnerving companion to the fact that he was in his sixties.
Garou typically reprimanded beasts that stepped out of line and spoke before him with a swift and powerful backhand across the snout. But if his father had taught him anything, it was that your elders deserved more respect than that.
But he wasn’t his father.
Taking one quick step towards the vole, Garou pulled back his arm and swung it forward, colliding with the small creature’s head with such force that the sound of the beast’s skull cracking echoed through the dining hall and beyond.
The pack leader and members all looked on in shock as the lifeless, rag-doll body of the old rodent collided with the wall and then crumpled to the floor.
“Pity,” Garou lamented, wiping the blood from his knuckles with a small cloth that he tucked back into his coat pocket. “He was actually the one I’d had in mind, too.”
“Now then, Mr. Zophar, if you’ll begin looking for a new covert unit to replace the dearly departed Billings, I would be most grateful. Now then,” he spoke as if he didn’t just backhand a soldier he’d spent millions on training to death, “Where was I?”
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