Part 2: The Wolf Pack’s Howl
By Thursday morning, the city was in a frenzy.
The newspaper headline—*“Wolf Holdings: Corruption, Greed, and the Shadow Ledger”*—was plastered on every street corner.
Victor Wolf hadn’t slept in forty-eight hours.
His sons were turning on each other, pointing fingers, scrambling to figure out which one of them had left the paper trail wide open.
I stood across the street from their corporate headquarters, my coffee untouched, watching the flashing blue lights of federal raids.
Dominic was being escorted out in cuffs.
He looked ruined.
Victor, however, remained inside.
He was too connected, too wealthy, too insulated to be taken down by a simple investigation.
Not yet, anyway.
I had moved onto Phase Two.
My phone vibrated.
"Dominic isn't talking," my contact at the precinct texted. "But Victor is liquidating assets. He’s planning to flee to a non-extradition country."
I looked at the headquarters.
A black limo pulled into the private bay.
Victor.
He was making a run for it.
He thought he could just disappear, take his remaining millions, and leave his sons to face the fire.
I waited until the limo turned onto the main highway, then I fell in behind him.
I kept a steady distance, my truck fading into the rhythm of the highway.
He was headed for the private airstrip on the outskirts of the state.
I wasn't going to arrest him.
I wasn't going to wait for the law.
As the limo pulled onto the tarmac, I turned off the road and cut across the grassy field, tearing through the fence line.
My truck plowed into the side of the idling limo, pinning the back door against the fuselage of a waiting Learjet.
The limo’s metal groaned under the pressure.
I stepped out, the cool wind whipping my jacket.
Victor’s driver scrambled out, hands raised, but I ignored him.
I walked to the rear door of the limo and ripped it off its hinges.
Victor Wolf sat there, surrounded by bags of cash and gold bullion.
He looked at me, and for the first time, his face didn't have that arrogant smirk.
He was terrified.
"You," he spat, his eyes wide.
"You're a maniac."
"I'm a soldier, Victor," I corrected him. "And you are just a civilian who broke the wrong rules."
I reached in and grabbed him by the throat, pulling him out into the rain.
He struggled, his hands clawing at my sleeves, but I didn't care.
"You think this is about land?" I pressed him against the wet metal of his plane.
"You think this is about money?"
"This is about the look on my wife’s face when you thought you could just discard her."
I saw a mercenary guard coming from the hangar, his weapon drawn.
I didn't even look his way.
I pulled my combat knife from my belt, the blade dull, stained with purpose.
"Put the gun down," I yelled to the guard.
"Or I’ll open your boss like a gift right in front of you."
The guard hesitated, his pulse racing, his eyes flicking to Victor’s desperate face.
"Don't do it!" Victor screeched. "He's crazy! Let him k;i;ll me, the feds will tear him apart!"
"They can't arrest a ghost," I whispered.
I felt a bullet graze my shoulder, a sudden searing burn.
I didn't wince.
I shoved Victor down, ducked, and turned, my hand finding the pistol I had hidden in my back waistband.
Two shots rang out.
The guard went down.
I turned back to Victor, who was sobbing now, his expensive suit ruined by the mud.
"You're not leaving, Victor."
"The Wolf Pack dies tonight."
I felt the adrenaline spiking, the battlefield instincts taking over completely.
I saw the rest of the brothers coming from the hangar, their guns drawn, faces twisted in rage.
They wanted to play wolf?
I’d show them what a pack of coyotes looked like when you cornered them.
The terminal building exploded as I threw a flashbang I had salvaged from my old gear—a parting gift from the base.
Light consumed the runway.
Screams rang out.
I grabbed Victor and dragged him back to my truck, my shoulder throbbing with blood.
I wasn't going home.
May you like
I was going to the one place Victor feared most: the land he had stolen from Tessa’s family, the place where he had built his private hunting lodge.
I was going to hunt him on his own turf.
