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“We humans fear the beast within the wolf because we do not understand the beast within ourselves.” — Gerald Hausman

Axel

“Oh fuck me dead.” Suds shakes his head and drops into one of the four kitchenette chairs. “Of course, they’re not going to stay put.”

“What the bloody hell?” Glancing out the door, Lucky rakes his hand through his hair.

“I’m going in hot. Who’s with me?” Hands races to his canvas bag and would be gone by now if not for Wheels holding him back.

“Wait, bro, we need to be smart.”

“Shut up and pay attention!” At Slate’s rare outburst, all eyes pop to the external monitor.

Instead of heat mode, ghostly green images show a man sneaking up behind a woman near the largest building. The tension in the room, already at max, creeps up another notch.

Swallowing hard, I manage to ask, “Is she one of ours?”

When a knife rises in the air, time screeches to a halt. Every man in the motel room holds their breath. There is no way any of us can get there in time to save her.

“The drone? Is it armed?” Out of the corner of my eye, I see the rest struggle to tamp down their emotions.

“No. Surveillance only.” Slateclenches his teeth.

“Buzz his head, dammit,” Sud shouts into the computer’s mic to Jack piloting the drone.

“No room, but I can get closer.” We're lucky it’s Taylor out there. Of all of us, he has the most experience.

Upon hearing our drone, the woman turns to face the camera. At that moment, the man hidden behind a balaclava slices her throat.

Our commander closes his eyes. “She’s not one of ours.”

“Thank you, Jesus.” One of the SEALs, not sure which one, holds back a sob.

“Hold on. This isn’t over.” My fists clench, and my stomach churns as our women approach the cafeteria from the north on the other side of the building.

Please stay inside, stay inside, stay inside.

Having used up my prayers, this one goes unanswered. Momentslater, my wife wobbles out the back door and drops onto her knees. She’s either drunk or has been drugged. Because she came to the spa with a mission, I suspect the latter.

“Where the fuck is the slasher?” At my command, Jack pilots the drone higher.

After it reaches tree height, night vision switches to heat mode again, enabling us to spot the murderer. He’s the only one walking in the opposite direction of the crime scene.

My inner FBI agent stores these facts for later. Right now, we need to get our women out of danger, but one glance at the screen tells me it would be a blood bath. An idiot carrying an AR-15 is far more dangerous than a trained soldier because more innocents are killed in the crossfire.

While I watch, Suds’ wife kneels beside mine. Using a multi-purpose flashlight, she settles on the ultraviolet setting.

A few seconds later, when the shrewd PI finds the dead woman, her partner slaps his forehead. “Ah, hell. Figures, she’d find it. Hey, Jack, is there any way to penetrate that goddamn fortress?”

I strain to hear the pilot, who has lowered his volume to just above the noise floor. “Not without better intel.”

On the screen, Sam races to Gwen, helps her to her feet, then all the women hike up the hill. Outside their cabin, a blob waits at their front door with his head tilted toward our drone.

The urge for revenge has never hit me stronger. Bear, who has been silent this whole time, senses my unease, whines, and scratches at the door.

No longer able to wait, I stand, grab a headset, then pause when Slate says, “You won’t have a chance. They know we saw them kill a woman.”

“Any way he’ll mistake our drone for one of his?” My hand grips my weapon, fingers itching for a fight.

Slate shakes his head, no. “I’m not sure he has any UAVs, and even if he does, how can we be sure they are surveilling the area? Whatever the case, he’ll soon know someone has eyes on him.”

My thoughts buzz. “Hold on, perhapswe could use that fact to our advantage.”

“Or not.” Hands grabs his weapon. “I’m going. Who’s with me?”

Slate reaches out his arm and holds him back. “And do what? Say we witnessed a murder and want our women out?”

His acerbic tone surprises me. The Patten man is usually the most level-headed of all of us.

“Woof.” Thinking we’re going outside, my dog wags his tail, which gives me an idea. “What if we send in Bear? He won’t let any harm come to them. At least he would give them time to run into the woods.”

“They’ll never allow him through the perimeter. They’ll shoot him on sight.” Wheels joins me at the door.

Catching Bear’s gaze, I command, “ Verletzt handeln.”

Acting injured, my canine’s ears droop. He holds one leg in the air while he limps on the other three. His pathetic whine could win him an Academy Award.

The others must agree with my plan because they grab their gear before racing down the stairs. Soon, we join Jack in the forest, where he updates us on the ladies’ status.

“The man at the door has left them alone… for now.” He squats by the chain-link fence, pulls up on the bottom of his cut, and creates a triangle-shaped opening suitable for the dog.

Bear pants and paws the ground. When his eyes lift to mine, I repeat the earlier command and add, “ Finde Gwen.”

Performing flawlessly, he limps toward the cabin. After an armed guard intercepts him, the canine flops onto his side.

“Hey, boy, what happened?” The young guy in camos leans over to pat my friend. He searches for injuries while the actor continues to cry.

“You seem okay.” When the teen offers a Slim Jim, my brilliant pet scarfs it down.

The treat finished, Bear rolls to his feet and is escorted further inside the perimeter. Once his paws hit the trail, he catches a whiff of Gwen’s scent. As the man raises his rifle, the animal bolts to the cabin door, where he is let in.