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"I had to use my judgment," Sonoma replies. "That is the burden of leadership. You should watch closely, if you ever intend to reach for the mantle of leadership again."

Dena touches your arm to get your attention as the packleader moves on to address another wolf's concerns. "At first I thought Maker was exaggerating, but she was right. Sonoma's gone too far. I'm not comfortable with it, I don't think any of us should be, but it has to be done."

"Maker," you whisper. "It's time."

"Be certain you have the right canister," Maker warns unnecessarily as you hold it for her to see, your body twisted to shield it from Sonoma's view. "Yes," she croons. "That's the one. Hold it there for me, will you? Down low where it won't be seen by prying eyes." She gently places the tips of her fingers around the top of the cylinder and twists them counter-clockwise. The device issues a sharp click and Maker reverses the direction before pulling upward. The top of the canister pulls off, revealing a small indentation. "To turn this into a gas bomb and disperse its contents in a cloud, we need to introduce a reagent. Even Sonoma was cautious enough not to leave something like this primed and ready to blow at any moment." She procures a small plastic vial from one of her many pockets and snaps it into the indentation before closing the container and handing it back to you. "It's armed now. Don't jolt it, and for God's sake don't drop it. It's designed to go off on impact."

Suddenly

A sudden eruption from the back wall of the council chamber sends flaming splinters and chunks of wood into the crowded press of wolves, battering and slicing at their skin. You're blown off your feet and pushed away by a rush of blistering air. The blast is followed by heavy machine-gun fire which, while deadly, feels random and un-aimed. Looking out through the hole in the wall, you're nearly blinded by a helicopter searchlight.

The physical damage is healed almost instantaneously, but the hit to morale might have proven fatal if Sonoma and her lieutenants hadn't rallied the wolves together and commanded their attention. "Into the cellar!" Sonoma calls out over the whir of helicopter blades. "We planned for this!" She pulls at a recessed ring on the floor, grunting as she hauls it upward to reveal a wide set of stairs leading to a well-lit basement you'd never even known existed. "The general doesn't know about it and it's reinforced!" she tries to assure the pack as they begin to descend. "When they send in the ground troops to mop us up, I'll blow the bombs and we can rush out to finish them off!"

"What about the chopper?" a panicking elder squawks as he reaches the stairs. "We can't take it down by claw!"

Sonoma reaches into a deep hollow below the lectern, muscles bulging as she removes a tall, cylindrical device. A rocket launcher! "I think this will do quite nicely to take the bird down," she says with a sharp-tooth grin as the elder nearly leaps down the stairs to safety, following the rest of the Circle. "Holstein!" she calls, wading through the crowd to place the launcher in your paws. "You should do the honors. This was your brilliant idea, after all."

The weight of the canister is heavy in your hands, but you need to focus on survival first. You won't be able to deliver Sonoma to the general if you're both mowed down by machine-gun fire. The helicopter will need to be dealt with first. You heft the device up to your shoulder, wincing as the mount designed for a human digs into your larger, more pronounced shoulder. You take several seconds to aim, lining up the shifting target in your sights as your finger tenses on the triggering mechanism.

It's do-or-die time.

Next

You thought you were ready for the jolt when the rocket took flight, but in all the excitement you forgot to dig your rear claws into the wood floor to brace yourself. The rush of the projectile pushes you back several feet, almosy knocking you to the ground and the pain in your bare shoulder is nearly overwhelming. A second later, the sky outside lights up in a showering inferno of red and orange as the explosion tears a hole in the helicopter, knocking it sideways with the impact. It plummets earthward and plows into one of the dormitories, causing the earth beneath your feet to rumble as the fire spreads to the building and suddenly the night is alive with flickering shadows and the popping crackle of spreading flame.

"Damn," Dena says. In the aftermath of the explosion you can barely hear her. "That went…surprisingly well."

The last of the fleeing wolves pass through the basement door, leaving only you, Sonoma, and your companions aboveground. Maker seems confident enough, but Bly and Dena exude a nervous energy that the packleader picks up on almost immediately.

"Something going on that I should know about?" Sonoma asks, an unconscious twitch of her tail betraying her concern.

Maker gives you a sharp nod, and you can almost hear her thinking: Don't hesitate. This might be your only chance!

No hesitation.

You hurl the canister at Sonoma's feet and jump back along with Bly and Dena to avoid the fumes while Maker circles around the astonished packleader tearing the basement door handle from Sonoma's already weakening grip. She slams it shut with a sharp thud of heavy wood and reinforced metal.

"What the hell are you doing?" Sonoma gasps as her body folds in on itself, her bones popping, hair receding. The artificial smell of the gas stings your nostrils and you take several steps back to avoid being reverted yourself. "Why would you—"

"You've gone too far! There's no way we can justify gas warfare!"

"Rivera would never have come for us if you just kept yourself under control. You brought this on yourself."

"I didn't want to do this, but you didn't leave me much of a choice."

I say nothing. What purpose would an explanation serve at a time like this?

Next

Sonoma coughs. "That's rich, boy, from the one who just did this to me." The packleader shivers as the last of her leg bones snap into place. Her naked skin glistens with a strange light-yellow liquid and her unruly hair is drenched with sweat. "This isn't how it was supposed to be," she groans as she gets back on her feet, knees snapping as they adjust. "The revolution won't die with me!"

"Oh, you won't be dying," Maker says, circling around Sonoma warily. "We're delivering you to Rivera. You're all she wants here—the others are just collateral damage and you know it."

Sonoma leaps at Maker, blunted human fingers raking and tearing only to reach nothing but air as Maker side-steps with a disgusted look on her face. "I was this close!" the packleader raves. "This close to killing them all! It could have been mine! The blood! The glory!"

"Me, me, me," Maker chides as a second explosion rips through the wall a few dozen feet from her. She doesn't so much as blink. "It's all about you. The glorious revolution! You don't care how many wolves die in service to your ideals—it was never about their lives! Don't pretend to care. I know you—I've counseled your type before. I'm a doctor, after all."

A feral scream flies from Sonoma's lips—and it feels altogether alien coming from a human face. She dashes at Maker, feints, and tackles the scientist as she dodges in the wrong direction. Maker falls to the ground with a 'whuff,' as Sonoma rains down blows from above. She may not be in werewolf form, but as humans go she's in peak physical condition.

"Gods," Dena gasps. "Sonoma's going to kill her!"

"Let's help get Maker free before someone dies. The gas has dispersed by now and they're fighting away from the impact site."

"Maker deserves this. Betraying Sonoma may have been necessary, but Maker's no friend of the pack. Let Sonoma have her way with her before we move in."

"Those two deserve each other. Let them fight it out and see who comes out on top."

Next