DOUBLE TROUBLE WITH THE TWIN WOLVES 19

C H A P T E R N I N E T E E N - - - T I M

The squad was split up three to three in each of the two cars, with Shaun and Mitchell each operating one. Assuming correctly that their separation would do more harm than good, Jerome had taken the sensible decision to keep Tim and Tom together. They'd be a pain to deal with because they'd be so anxious about their wife and their future with her. At least Tim could consider himself fortunate that they had a leader who was aware of how it felt.

His assault weapon was in his hands, and he had a comm device in his ear that was connected to everyone else in the two cars. A little laptop that was scarcely bigger than a wristwatch was bouncing in his lap with each curve in the road. He observed it in silence while radio waves and communications, some encrypted and others not, skittered back and forth.

The channels became busier as they neared Ellia. This was no longer ordinary everyday city talk. No, someone was employing frequencies that wouldn't be audible to a normal hobbyist or in business transactions. Although they were generally silent, Tim could detect brief blips that were most likely directives being relayed from one unit to another.

He called out to Jerome via the headset, "I think it's going down."

Jerome answered, "Noted.

As the automobiles followed different routes to the location, there was a halt. Tom threw his gun on the seat and, when they were about two blocks from Ellia, Shaun and he switched places in the car. Shaun got into the passenger seat, and Tom grabbed the wheel.

"On four," Shaun remarked, taking his bulky sniper rifle case from the space in front of the seats with Tim's assistance.

Tim slid the computer into place as Shaun lifted his fingers and began counting down from four, getting ready to jump to the front as well. Shaun gave them both a lax salute as he counted to one, virtually threw himself out of the car while holding the case in his hands, and then landed in a nice running duck stance. He continued on without pausing until he vanished among the buildings.

Tim quickly sat down and slammed the door shut as Tom sped past them and over the row of buildings separating them from Ellia.

Tom said under his breath, "This better go well." A vein in his neck was pounding, and his whole body was tense.

Tim touched his communication device and replied, "It always does. Taking a position, Shaun.

"We're leaving the car behind. Tim looked at his brother Tom, who confirmed that he heard the brief directive to cross the remaining block on foot.

As if it were the most natural thing in the world, they pulled their gear into a parking spot between two little hatchbacks. The Crawley brothers bolted out of the light armored car and ran at a dead run for Ellia, getting the strangest reaction from a small old lady walking by them with a lapdog. They were protected by darkness, and when they were no longer in plain sight of the street lights, they both pulled out their weapons.

Tom began to hiss but stopped short of saying, "If something happened to her."

Tim remarked solemnly as Ellia came into view, "I know, brother."

Both of them had heard her voice and the sudden stop to the conversation. Anything but positive may come from that. Tim was making an effort to maintain his composure, but it was becoming more difficult.

Shaun said, "In position," as he climbed into his constructed sniper's nest high above them.

If it involved urban fighting, he never even told them where he would be. Shaun was undoubtedly the man who prowled around by himself the most, yet it was difficult to contest his outcomes. Nobody mattered how he completed the task as long as it was completed.

"I can see a lot of activity inside. The leftmost building's cellar and the seventh and ninth levels' reading rooms,” he said.

Tim motioned for Tom to follow him, gesturing as he got a glimpse of movement to their right.

In front of Ellia's corporate offices, they sprinted down the street and reunited with the rest of the squad. Jerome motioned them inside as he crouched behind a set of stairs.

"You heard what the man said. The explosives are most likely to be in the cellar. You're obviously awake, Tom. Tim, I'll accompany you both. Jordan and Mitchell, tidy up 7 and 9. Whatever these men want from this place has to be on the research floors, and I believe you'll have a good time there. Shaun will be on the lookout for you. Now, move out."

The five guys divided into two groups: Tim, Tom, and Jerome entered through the main door, while Jordan and Mitchell went in the direction of the entrance to the right of the main structure. They had correctly predicted that The Arctics were headed towards extinction. They had slain both of the front desk security guards while remaining undetected, then carried their lifeless bodies behind the table. Each of their security passes were taken by Jerome, who gave Tim one and retained the other.

Tim immediately snatched it up in midair and stole it to enter the structure. Tom followed after he flung it back, and Jerome went for the other high, metal-covered gate. A shot to the power consoles at the bottom left of the gate, which was whining loudly in anger at their weapons, hushed the noise.

Tom and Jerome went down the hallway and in the direction of the stairs that lead down into the building's interior while they both covered their flanks, Jerome pointed and stated, "To port."

Tim's blood was pumping with adrenaline as usual, and his eyesight was both razor-sharp and a little bit blurry to the sides. Even the tiniest sound or fragrance immediately drew his attention since he was so highly aware of his breathing. Shifters made outstanding soldiers due to their strength as well as their capacity to access the hidden abilities that even their human forms still had. Heightened perception, intense focus, and quickness all contributed to the creation of a truly exceptional soldier.

Tim did not feel unstoppable today though. He was not the most qualified person for the position today. He was concerned. He was experiencing severe stomach turbulence that closely resembled terror. If only he could be cuddled up on the bed with Maddison and Tom right now instead of dashing about this place, he would give anything to have her in his arms. Spending an evening at home with his friends and his children in peace would have cost him his left arm.

He thought, feeling the touch of ice sweat on his skin, "We have to bring her back."

Tom's touch on his shoulder jolted him back to reality. Tim turned to face his sibling. Tom only nodded, indicating the stairs with a somberness. He was keeping his head held high despite his knowledge. Tim inhaled deeply. He would need to follow suit. Madison's sake. For their future, regardless of what it might be like.

A hail of gunshots greeted Jerome as soon as he attempted to enter the stairway. Tom quickly unpinned a grenade from his belt, threw it down, and the man quickly drew back while hissing. They all kept their distance as they listened to the second of pure, delicious fear that followed the first person seeing the grenade bounce down the stairs, then the scraping noises of walls collapsing and guys being torn apart. With his gun pulled and his body on edge, Tom ran down the stairs first after counting to three.

He was greeted by three bodies laying in various pieces and gray walls that had been faintly splattered with blood as he reached the bottom of the stairway. After that, he dived down, utilizing the stairwell's corner as protection while rounds continued to be fired at him. In a darker area of the hallways with little to no light, he fired back while carefully aiming in the direction from whence the rounds had been fired. He could concentrate on his own return once the subsequent bombardment revealed muzzle flashes to him. Nearly simultaneously, he heard a groan and a nice crunch, and then Tim was exploding past him and sprinting into the room like a lunatic.

“Tom! Shit!" Tim snarled and sprinted after him right away.

Jerome was standing behind them when they reached the next corner and pressed up against the wall.

Jerome commanded in a deep, booming hiss that caused them to sit up a bit straighter each time he repeated, "Slow the hell down, dude."

She's around here someplace. With his voice tense, Tom added, "I can smell her.

Tim sniffed deeply and scowled. Sure enough, he could smell her. The walkway was partially visible through tiny windows, but no one was walking by. The blood had almost entirely covered one of the walls.

Tim muttered, feeling another cold go down his back and freeze him to the bone, "He's correct."

Tom attempted to slip into the next section of hallway, but he had to immediately draw back since at least three weapons were firing at him.

He yelled, "Shit.  It's too tight. They'll discover us."

Jerome launched an unorthodox volley into the hallway as he scooted by them. They were pelted with gunfire, probing and waiting, just as he turned the corner with the barrel of his weapon. Tim kept a watchful eye on the stairs they'd come down while Jerome, gritting his teeth, pulled back and the three of them gathered for a minute.

No matter how many of us are around, they still have a strong grasp. Three dudes, I would think. Ideas? ”

Tim sighed, "Suicide, that's about it," as he took another breath of the air and nearly fell over from the overwhelming fragrance of her, which was killing him.

Tom suggested that they be hurried.

"Suicide, yes. Did I not just say that?” Tim made a menacing remark.

smoke grenades. We change. One of us provides support fire. Tom responded, his eyes flashing gold, "We sprint through the length and take the fuckers out on the other side.”

Tim scowled as he saw his sibling. It was consistent with what Tim had indicated, although there was some uncertainty. Perhaps, if they moved quickly enough. They may succeed if they were harsh enough. Not without suffering a setback, maybe, but if one of them could succeed...

Tim answered mutely, "I'll do it."

Tom roared, "We'll both fuck do it."

Jerome replied, bringing them both a bit closer together, "I can't let you run in there like that."

You cannot leave. You fucking bear, you. Our primary objective. We can sneak up on them because we are wolves, Tom said, his eyes becoming a full gold color to match Tim's.

Tim's wolf fully concurred. It was foolish as fuck and might go horribly wrong in a hundred different ways, from their being too many men on the other side to the two of them being shot before they could pass. However, he sensed that Maddison was around and that The Arctics weren't quite kittens. If those soldiers were more than eager to die to complete their job, he would not be the least bit shocked.

A message arrived at that same moment, Jordan's voice scratchy in their ears.

"Heavy resistance on seventh on ninth. obtained three of them. But they're beginning to disperse. I'm not sure if they have all they require. crap. Sorry. I don't know whether they got what they were going for, but they're starting to run like rats from a dying ship," Jordan observed, his words cut short for a second by the sound of a bullet flying by too near for comfort.

“Fine. It's suicide," Jerome growled in agreement.

The Crawleys threw their firearms off while grinning. Smoke grenades were removed from their belts and given to Jerome, who briefly weighed them in his hands.

“Shift. I'll include them both and provide you with protection. I'll shoot mid-high, so stay low. Try to get back if there are too many of them. He whispered, "Good luck," as the wolf twins were beginning to transform.

Tim felt the wolf beginning to take over; it was as though he had been holding his breath for a long time and could now finally let it out. He felt the familiar, soothing force beginning to pulsate through him in increasing amounts as his body became free and fluid. His slim, powerful legs developed a broad, toothy jaw with pointed fangs, nearly dazzling white fur with dark black markings, and his eyes, now shining a menacing, almost demonic shade of gold.

Tim stared at Tom and snapped his fangs once before they both hissed. In addition to firing his gun down the hallway, Jerome hurled the explosives. Lock and fucking load.