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"That's certainly a valid way of looking at things," Maker says. "But it may be too late to rein Sonoma in if we can't stop the assault somehow. If Rivera has been manipulated into attacking us, we may have no choice but to take her down before we turn our attention to our glorious leader." She reaches down to click the mouse, bringing the video footage to life. "See for yourself."

One Month Ago, in Secret

Sonoma towers above the captive, rippling muscles tensing, her dark brown fur backlit by fluorescent light shining through beakers and test tubes, and framed by computer monitors displaying complex scientific data. To humans, and even most werewolves, this display of physical dominance would leave a restrained prisoner quivering in fear—but General Rivera is no common captive. She stands patiently, neck craned back, hard eyes locking with Sonoma's despite her compact human form barely reaching the packleader's chest. Sonoma scowls and breaks eye contact first, turning and walking over to one of the computers, hoping to pass off her failure to assert dominance as a casual dismissal.

"So you have me here," Rivera says coldly, eyes burrowing into Sonoma's back. "And you clearly weren't comfortable with your pack knowing that I was being detained. So perhaps you should cut the theatrics and get to the point before something drastic becomes necessary."

Sonoma sweeps the computer monitor to the floor with a slash of her claws, the clattering of its components echoing throughout the underground chamber. "You come to my council chambers and lecture me in front of my pack, questioning my authority and judgment in front of them? You sit in DC, in your ivory-fucking-tower and you think you can come down here and berate me about how I run my business?"

Rivera's stoicism is briefly interrupted as her nostrils flare with outrage. "Let me tell you about my ivory tower, you ignorant pup! When your ineptitude forced me to bring in my soldiers after your botched prison break, an inquiry was initiated. Footage was released showing werewolves killing human soldiers followed by what appeared to be military aircraft covering the wolves' escape. We managed to suppress most of the evidence, but the damage was already done."

"So what?" Sonoma growls. "That's why we have wolves in positions of power. To quash those inquiries."

"Exactly how much power do you think we have?" Rivera asks, astonishment dominating anger. "There was a modern-day witch hunt in DC after you escaped the Nail! It took everything in my power to direct the inquisitors toward more convenient targets."

"So it was useful then—congratulations on making the best out of a bad situation. Isn't that your job? Isn't that why you killed General Greene and took control over the Nail?"

General Rivera swallows her anger audibly. "Fear is a difficult emotion to control in the human populace; but paranoia is an entirely different animal. I'd just about forced it back down after hanging a few…disloyal operatives out to dry, but then you attacked the Human Sovereignty Movement! Without so much as informing me!"

Next

Sonoma grunts. "Why would you care if we killed off a bunch of racist assholes hiding in an old building in the middle of nowhere? Do you even care that they attacked us first? They're killing us, Rivera, and you're defending them!"

"We have to pick our battles!" Rivera snarls. "Are you ignorant enough to not be aware that the HSM has sympathizers in the government? Lobbyists manipulating laws behind the scenes? The group was founded by a colonel! That doesn't happen in a vacuum, Sonoma!"

"It always comes back to Williams, doesn't it? Where did he end up, anyway?"

"You're changing the subject."

"Where is he, Rivera?"

The general sniffs. "We don't know. The official record says he died in Haven, but we were able to recover and revive him. Unfortunately he was too powerful to control and he managed to escape our DC facility. We traced someone we believe to be him to upstate New York, but then the trail went cold. But that's not why we're here talking."

"Then get to the point," Sonoma says, dark-furred fingers clenching around the edges of her metal desk, claws leaving sharp divots in the surface.

"I'll be blunt then: you're out of control. Our plans were very clear—you keep our forces in hiding while we work together on a cure for humanity. When we can turn any human we want, we can achieve dominance strategically. Methodically. But you're lashing out at random! Risking everything we worked together to build! I had plans drawn up for relocation, but now that's impossible!"

"Why?"

"Because I've been forced into a corner and everything I do is being monitored. Coming here in person today is the last chance I'll have to speak to you face-to-face. Peacefully, that is." She breathes out a long huff of air. "Look. We've known each other for decades and you know my commitment to the cause. I'll do anything to see it through to the end. You understand me, Sonoma? Anything."

Present Day

The video comes to an abrupt stop, jolting you back to reality, and you meet Dena's worried eyes. "Is that all there is?"

Maker nods. "It's clipped from a larger surveillance recording, but the original version has been scrubbed. I think Sonoma was keeping this as some kind of insurance."

"So what's your plan, anyway?" you ask, brandishing the two canisters. "You said we needed these to fight back against the humans."

"It's not quite that simple," Maker says. "These samples can affect one, perhaps two individuals at most—so you'll need to make it count. We have choices available to us, and while I know you wish to punish Sonoma for her overzealous behavior, I urge you to consider another tactic before rushing in. Rivera is here for a singular reason: to cover her ass. The military is aware of the werewolf infiltration now, and the only way to keep the heat off of herself and her operatives was to call in a strike no werewolf would possibly authorize. We have one advantage you might not have thought of. Our camp is on US soil and the werewolf issue is still contentious with the public, so Rivera couldn't simply bomb us remotely, but a quick military strike under the cover of darkness would fit her needs perfectly. To wit, she needs her soldiers to believe that she's human and she'll go to any length to hide her identity."

"So if we used the drug to force her into werewolf form…"

"She'd have no choice but to turn on her own soldiers to maintain the lie. She'll be hanging back on the outskirts of the camp with her logistics team—there's no way she's letting this happen without her direct supervision. If she's forced to kill her own mission support team, the soldiers on the ground will lose coordination."

"So why the second canister? If we need to turn Rivera into wolf form, who would we need to turn into a human?"

"This is all speculation. We have no way of knowing that Rivera is actually here."

"So your only solution revolves around forcing Rivera to kill dozens of techs and support personnel? That's a bit cold-blooded for me."

Next

"I expected you to have a stronger constitution than that, Holstein," Maker says with a huff. "Your fellow wolves are falling one by one to Rivera's soldiers while you waffle on petty morality. One of these days you'll need to grow up and realize that this world is a hard place and you need to do what must be done."

"Is there any other option?" Dena asks.

Maker eyes the second container, now held in your left hand. "It's possible that Rivera would let the rest of us live if we did her a favor."

"What kind of favor?" you ask, suddenly even more suspicious than before, as if that were possible.

"Offer up a sacrificial lamb. Rivera is here for Sonoma. The politicians leaning on her know who our packleader is and that she's the one agitating for strikes against the HSM. Many of them hope for a relatively bloodless genocide—that's why they developed the virus to prevent us from accessing wolf form—and if Sonoma were to be captured, they'll think we'd be easy pickings when the time is right. They'll see it as a win. We can deliver that to them by forcing her into human form while she's in battle. Then, when Rivera has the wolf she came for, we can escape to a new location."

"You can't be serious…we can't give up one of our own! She's our packleader for gods' sakes!"

"It might work. She's been out of control and we all know it. This might be our only chance."

"Either way we choose, we'd be betraying a wolf in a position of power. It sounds like a lose-lose proposition. Perhaps we should consult the elders."

Next

"It's a sub-optimal solution," Maker replies with a nod, "but it's our only chance if we don't want to risk outing Rivera."

Your left leg suddenly buckles and you nearly lose your grip on the two canisters as you desperately steady yourself.

Dena kneels to examine your wound. "You didn't tell me you got shot earlier!"

"I didn't want to worry you," you reply lamely. "And Maker's been dropping some heavy stuff on us."

Maker pushes her back to examine your leg. "This won't do at all," she tisks. "Not at all." Before you can jerk out of the way she procures a small syringe from her breast pocket and plunges it into your leg.

"What did you do?" you gasp, panicked. Your skin goes cold, but seconds later the burning sensation of the bullet wound is gone.

"That bullet will need to come out eventually," Maker says. "But for now you'll be able to operate at near peak efficiency, provided you don't go and get yourself shot again."

Next