Chapter Making a Break For It
Nathan Storm’s POV
December 20, 2006
I didn’t get a chance to speak to Carol for over a year, and it was another year before we spent any time alone. She had a rough few months until the wolves worked out their anger over Chad’s death. She settled in with the others and did what she had to do to survive.
My disobedience put me on the Alpha’s shit list, and my job assignments intentionally keep us apart. A long border patrol, a road trip, or a remote job like working the Pack sawmill? Send Nathan! He’s perfect for the job!
It wasn’t the worst thing. I kept my head down and nose clean, ignoring Carol and the other Pack slaves. I built back some of the lost trust and got better assignments. My favorite was interstate transport after Darrell and I got our Commercial Driver’s Licenses. We started out driving the lumber trucks for a season. When I wasn’t working, I was training and planning. It took another year before we got moved to a better job.
You see, running a Pack takes a lot of money. Property taxes, operating expenses for the home, food, repairs, and wages to keep Uncle Sam convinced you were running a business? It all added up. We had to bring in almost seven million a year, and the sawmill and other companies couldn’t cut it. Alpha Todd had connections in the drug trade, and they paid us to ship their product to the interior of the United States.
You see, the territories of the Jaguars who ran the Sons of Tezcatlicopa only went as far north as San Francisco and Denver. They would bring drugs into Oakland in containers every six weeks or so, dividing it to send to their Chapters in the southwest for resale. The Denver chapter had a problem, though. Interstate 80 between the Bay Area and Denver goes straight through Donner Pack territory, and wolves and cats aren’t on good terms. Add in the natural turf wars between the outlaw motorcycle clubs, and going north and east was out of the question.
We could show up at the Oakland docks and pick up the container. One of us would shift and mark the outside of the container with concentrated wolf urine. Any drug dog that checked us out would smell the wolf scent and lose interest in what was behind it. We’d haul the load through Donner territory without an issue, as Packs had agreements for free transit using freeways. We’d drop off Denver’s portion with the Sons of Tezcatlicopa chapter there, with Todd owning the rest. Darrell and I would continue to Chicago and unload at a small warehouse we owned under a shell company. We’d spend the next two weeks in cargo vans making deliveries from Minneapolis to Cleveland, selling to local distributors, and collecting the cash. We’d leave the vans in the warehouse and return the empty container to Bitterroot with the truck.
Why would the two junior warriors in the Bitterroot Pack be trusted with such responsibility? The short answer was that we were expendable. If we got busted, they’d cut us loose. Our driver’s licenses and other records showed us sharing an apartment in Darby. The Alpha command would keep us from turning on Todd, and we didn’t have a family to support. If we spent the rest of our lives in prison, Todd didn’t care. We split ten grand per run, with the rest of the profits going to Todd and the Pack.
Darrell and I had fun working together and made a few unsavory contacts in our new jobs. We could easily add guns or other drugs to our delivery routes, keeping the cash for ourselves. With the minimum sentences for drug trafficking, it wouldn’t affect our fate if we added our stash.
And the cash and the contacts were critical to my plan.
I started by finding my hideout. I knew that as soon as the Pack discovered us missing, Alpha Todd would get surrounding Packs to help find us. Going west would run me into Cascade or Donner. Blue River would come down from Canada, while Casper would cover to the east and southeast. Denver was out; one call to the Sons saying I’d rolled on them and was heading their way, and that gang would kill us.
I picked northeast. I found a home online and put a deposit down on a six-month renewable lease. It was a two-bedroom, two-bath rambler in Great Falls, Montana, home of Malmstrom Air Force Base. The city of sixty thousand was big enough for us to disappear in. Like most Air Force towns, Great Falls was surrounded by flat, barren lands. Interstate 15 ran through the west side of town, but our place was on the east side near the runways. It wasn’t the kind of place wolves would frequent.
With the address of my new home, a forger used photos I’d taken to create new identities for Nicholas and Nora (James) Parker. Birth certificates, marriage certificate, social security numbers, and passports. Now I could get my Montana driver’s license and a bank account. Over the next six months, I stocked the home with supplies and saved my money.
With this last run, I was as prepared as I could be. Tonight was a blowout party to celebrate Alpha Todd’s birthday. Patrols would be minimal, everyone would be drunk, and the party would go well into the night.
I selected one of the older Pack vans and stashed my go-bag behind the driver’s seat. I made sure the van had a full tank of gas. GPS transmitters on our vehicles are permanently disabled, so they can’t track them. I also had a pair of magnetic signs for an electrical contractor in Billings that I’d put on once I was on the road.
I arrived with the others at dinner but snuck away to sleep after the cake. I woke at three and headed to the basement, where the party was winding down. The senior wolves had already gone to bed, leaving the drunk and horny lower ranks behind.
I followed Carol’s scent to one of the back bedrooms. I held back my wolf as I listened to someone rutting away on her, the smack of his hips on her ass the only noise. One of the Omegas came up to me while I waited. “You got next?”
I shook my head. “She’s wanted upstairs. As soon as Don finishes, I have to get her cleaned up and take her.”
“Shit. I’ll wait for someone else.” He walked off.
A few minutes later, I heard Don grunt and tell Carol to “take it all, bitch!” I knocked on the door. “What?”
“She’s needed upstairs,” I replied.
Don opened the door, looked at me, and sighed. “Guess there’s no round two.” He pulled Carol to her feet by the collar and tossed her my way. He reached for the bottle of whiskey and took a long pull. “Thanks for waiting. She’s got a sweet little ass.”
“Next time.” I grabbed Carol by the arm, ignoring the tingles and fighting the urge to pound Don’s face in. I walked her to the end of the hall and into the slave quarters. “Shower quickly,” I told her. “We don’t have much time.”
She didn’t say anything as she walked into the open shower bay. There was a lot to clean off. I handed her scent-blocking soap; she smelled it and looked at me for the first time. “It’s happening now?”
I nodded. “We have to hurry.”
She scrubbed herself clean and dried off. I attached a leash to her collar and shackles to her ankles. “I have to make it look like a normal slave transport,” I explained before leading her up the back stairs. I ensured no one was around before we exited the Pack House for the garage. It was empty, and the van I’d prepared was ready to go. I opened the back door and padlocked her chains to an eye-bolt on the floor. “Don’t say a word, and don’t let on anything is different,” I said after I finished. “In a few hours, we’ll be free or dead.”
“Together?”
“From now on, my mate.” I closed the door, got behind the wheel, and opened the closest garage door. Pulling out, I waved at one of the wolves sitting on the front deck as I drove for the exit. There was a guard shack and vehicle barrier left between us and freedom, and we were there ten minutes later. I stopped and rolled down my window, my Glock in my right hand and hidden by my right side. “Evening, Bob.”
Bob was an old wolf whose injuries dropped him out of the warrior ranks long ago. There was nothing wrong with his eyes and nose, though. He looked a little shocked as he took in the scents. “What is SHE doing out here?”
“Alpha wanted a slave sent to the Mill for the guys stationed there,” I replied. “I was sober, so I got picked for the delivery.”
He poked his head in, peering at Carol in her chains. “I have to check with…”
BANG.
He dropped like a rock as the forty-caliber hollow-point entered above his left eye and blew the back of his head out. I couldn’t let him live, as one link to a Beta would expose my escape attempt.
I hopped out and hit the button inside the guard house to raise the bar. I pulled the van through and waited until the bar automatically lowered. A few shots into the hydraulic controls would keep it from opening when the pursuit arrived.
I put the van in gear and drove off as fast as possible. “FUCK!” I’d killed an innocent Pack member and taken their property.
There was no coming back from this.
I broke the Pack link and became a rogue. By sunrise, I’d be number one on the Werewolf Council Most Wanted list. I’d have a price on my head, and every Pack Wolf in North America would be looking for us.