 
# GREYWOLF

A NOVEL BY

# BRIAN CAIN
Greywolf

Copyright 2014 Brian Cain

Smashwords Edition

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The information, views, opinions and visuals expressed in this publication are solely those of the author and do not reflect those of the publisher. The publisher disclaims any liabilities or responsibilities whatsoever for any damages, libel or liabilities arising directly or indirectly from the contents of the publication.
Previous novels by Brian Cain

Circles of Fear

The Sword And The Dagger

Previous novels in this series

Vigilante

Flaxmead

Once Upon A Time In Australia

In The Name Of The Mother

Jodi Ann

Bella Elizabeth

The Hunt For Rose

Louise Legrande

Roselyn Victoria Fleming

Checkmate

Children's series;

Larco and the Quog

Larco Builds a Bok Bok

Return of the Wizard

The Cave of Knowledge

Larco and the Dictionary

Larco the Wizard

The Dark Hole Of Rainbows
Anonymous.
PREFACE

_'Greywolf',_ volume eleven in the Stanton Chronicles series of novels.

The Millennium war games amid 'Circles of Fear', the government and media covered up the fact blues guitar player Jason Brinkly fought the battle of Armageddon, but with the hand of whom on his shoulder? Governments and commercial entities withdraw to their own circles driven by fear as the awesome weapon ADAM resurfaces in the hands of Greywolf, but had it ever slept?

They regrouped ready to strike, they waited a long time for the ageing vigilante to wane, they would soon beg for his return. The stock market crashed, as the rich ran for cover they left the poor to put the bill, the rich for no other reasons than wealth rather than purpose, were hunted down. Greywolf unlike Stanton was not confined by matters of state, but by matters of servitude. He lived by the gun, the gun of his father; he served the righteous, in the name of his mother. Greywolf began to stalk the corridors of power. Educated by the sword of the cross, armed with the power of technology, authoritative information far beyond the gun, loyal to none but servant to all, even Stanton struggled to understand his creation. His mother 'Bella Elizabeth', a ruthless assassin was horrified. Grey by the wisdom of his father's hair, wolf by the virtue of his mother, 'Greywolf' became the law.
TABLE OF CONTENTS

PREFACE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER ONE

He studied the screen; he put his hand out and touched the image, his features held the handsome lines of his father, and his blood ran hot like the rampant chase of the wolf, courtesy of his mothers genes. He had heard of her but never seen her before, Roselyn Victoria Cavendish, vivacious, sexy, demanding, a feeling of want crept across his skin as his fingers followed the lines of Rose's image. He swallowed hard, all seemed irrelevant apart from the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, the surveillance cameras caught her smile, her long flowing blonde locks, her heaving cleavage, he was mesmerised. His father crept in silent as a bird of prey on the wing stood behind him and studied his son's reaction, he folded his arms and with a face of stone watched his son sit down in front to the screen, bewildered as so many had before him. "Who is she?" he asked as he again touched the image on the screen.

"My heavy feet?"

"Your reflection in the screen."

"Roselyn Victoria Cavendish, nee Fleming."

"I've read of her, protected her, and now this, you kept her from my eyes."

Stanton walked silently toward his son and stood next to him studying the screen. "And now you have seen her, she must never come of harm."

"I want her."

Stanton held face but was taken back. "You have avoided complications caused by family."

"I've never seen anyone that was more beautiful than my mother." Stanton sat down looking inquisitively at his sons face studying the screen image of Rose, his look changed to one of latent despair. "You're worried and surprised father."

Stanton looked down biting his bottom lip, he looked back up poker faced. "Rose is dangerous."

"You tell me everything with your face dad, although I don't look at you your image is projected onto the back of my sunglasses, one of your ideas. I have said all my life when I see the woman I am destined for I will know, I've seen her." Stanton stood and walked to the wall some three steps, turned and studied his sons gaze, his son looked away from the screen, removed his sunglasses and looked at his father with a confident grin. "You knew did you not?"

"Every man falls for Rose."

"That's not what I meant and you know it, I've had my paws on many a beautiful woman, why do I feel different about this one."

"Your face reminded me of me when I look at your mother."

"Is that good?"

Stanton wore a half grin and raised eyebrows. "That's a good question, you're not torn between two women as I have been."

"Louise."

He shrugged his shoulders. "You could say three."

His son got to his feet, stood back from the screen and studied Rose, he held his arms across his chest, his right hand fiddling with his chin in concentration, his legs astride. As his father he had hardly aged, his head shaved clean, his shoulders broad and stout. "I will meet her as myself." His father said nothing. "So you don't object."

"Rose is a member of the elite, your identity is safe with her, she is innocent as a child and dislikes deception."

"I would have thought you would strongly oppose my attraction as you have done when aware of other women."

"Rose is not other women, her safety is within our undertaking, how will you feel if she rejects your appreciation?"

"I don't know."

Stanton rubbed his forehead to hide a grimace. "At times I don't know who you are boy, some say you are black and six feet tall, some olive skinned with brown hair, some blonde with pure white skin, some say you have glasses. You have succeeded in my advice, but sometimes I don't know you."

"The line has moved."

Stanton wore a look of disapproval. "Jean Forbes, Abdul Nasih, Rudolph Forbes, Sandra Lovington, if I can't find them they must be gone."

"Lovington is quite a toy; she will stay alive until I have finished with her."

"So you have lost focus on our ploy."

"No father, it is you whom have failed to move with the times. I am not confined to matters of state; I am loyal to none, servant to all, you object."

"I don't know yet, Forbes, Nasih, Lovington are misguided."

"Forbes Nasih and Lovington have not changed their ways no matter how much you tried, time has caught up with them."

"I need to speak to Lovington."

"Her time has come." He looked at the screen. "Destiny has beckoned."

"All those people worked for us."

"They are perpetrators of countless problems befalling the public."

"You're mother will oppose your attraction to Rose."

"If you're trying to get access to Lovington I can't help you anyway."

Stanton sat down next to the screen studying the security monitors, his son joined him, Stanton watched in silence for a while. "Your mother will be furious."

"Mother is furious with you not me."

Stanton held his hand over the back of his neck, he twisted and grimaced. "It's who you are boy, sending you in directions you do not wish to go make's no sense."

He took Stanton's hand. "Father I love you more than anything, I respect your integrity but fortitude has not been with you of late, we are in need of a stronger hand or you would have the king pins cornered by now."

Stanton dropped his head and held his sons hand tight. "You're right boy, Bartholomew Ludlow Richmond, Grime?"

"I let the Overlords know where he was."

"He's back there?"

"The Overlords have become somewhat less forgiving over time."

"He's dead."

"I'll send you information that will make things clearer, Grime was a little closer to his father than we have been led to believe."

Stanton was stone faced and silent for a few seconds. "These people were misguided boy, not evil, will we start sanctioning people for pissing on the pavement."

"Father please, read what I send you, we should meet more often."

"We were inseparable, true we have to some degree lost each other."  
He shook his head. "Never."

"Brannigan is very close to Rose."

"He has his family close by here now, I know the story, he is an elite patriot, he helped build this place. Should Rose favour my advances he will watch over us. Brannigan is as much an expert in disguise and stealth as I, you were right father, no one looks for the dead."

"So many unanswered questions."

"Cadiche, Anthony and Robert, now you mention it yes."

"You know where they operate from."

"You know I don't, I don't need to know, only how to contact them."

"You must never know each others secrets."

"Agreed, but I would like to meet my half brothers."

"Dangerous."

"What if they pass and no one else knows, I can be whomever I want, but I would like to see my family in person."

"Fair enough."

He chuckled. "Sometimes Australia comes through, especially when we speak of it."

"A fearsome ally."

"Was no luck father, you forged this empire."

"Speaking of empires, I must go aloft and console your mother."

"As soon as Rose is in her room I am going to present myself."

Stanton folded his arms and sighed. "Best I brief your mother or this will all blow up in our face."

"Ours."

"Mine."

John junior chuckled. "Mother can be angry with you for no more than thirty seconds."

"Most terrifying thirty seconds of my life at times."

"And what of Jodi and my half sister."

"I can only hope boy, she had surgery a few days ago and is still in a coma."

"I have seen mother cry about it when she thinks she's alone."

"Your mother has a stark front, we know differently of her heart, she loves Jodi as much as I." Stanton got up to walk away.

"Dad would you do anything differently if you had the chance?"

"Hindsight questions are always futile, I have no answers for you as I have no proof within differentiation."

"Why did I know what you were going to say?"

Stanton smiled and put his hand on his sons shoulder. "Time for me to face the music, go forth my son, use the grey of my wisdom and the wolf of your mother." Stanton walked away into a labyrinth of tunnels and caverns.
CHAPTER TWO

Although Rose disliked pompous drudgery, Greywolf Manor operated as always, the staff prepared for an influx of public tourists eager to survey the past and present. The staff viewed Rose as a refreshing and courteous, and an air of change hung over the stately rooms and corridors once dominated by aristocracy. What was going to happen no one really knew, but a definite feel of delight was apparent.

The truth was, there were more people below Greywolf Manor than above, the elite once banished from their Essex Island lair of Foulness had been carefully hidden, nurtured, and refocused. Science and a mass of sophisticated surveillance collected data of interest in the protection of public interest, they awaited facial recognition of visitors for reasons of gathering further information amid expected espionage. The counter intelligence group was overseen by Bruce Hurst still operating within MI6, but Hurst knew little of Greywolf. The head of counter espionage was Brannigan. Every move the girls made, every conversation they had would be closely monitored, the only rooms without visual security was their bedrooms. Since the instigation of the underground lair over some years, surveillance had picked up the smallest snippets of information that often led to the preservation of life, or the purge of it, depending on what side of the line it affected. During its instigation, no one had expected the emergence of Greywolf.

Rose was attempting to play billiards in the game room, Bella chuckled under her breath as Rose struggled with underwear, concealing long dresses and expected etiquette, but she was having fun.

A familiar smell that Bella had not experienced for some time suddenly bit at her senses, standing with her back to the wall a couple of paces clear of the oak wood panels, she turned and looked Stanton in the face, he had not come in the door. She looked at him with a scowl, she lent on her billiard cue with her head to one side, her jet black hair hid most of the cue, she whispered. "You smell like the caverns of Foulness lair."

Stanton held face. "Mmm, interesting observation, you look dashing in your prude dress."

"Stimulate your imagination does it."

"I could get to like it."

"Where is our son?"

"He's busy."

Rose yelled across the billiard table to Bella. "Bell, come on pay attention it's your shot. Oh, John, I didn't see you come in."

"Focusing on your new found interest," replied Stanton.

"This is fun, you going to join us."

"Maybe later."

Bella took her shot narrowly missing sinking a red ball, she returned to Stanton whom had purposely gone to the bar to pour himself a drink, the bar being out of earshot. She threw her graceful black locks behind her, they settled below her buttocks in a perfect shiny black wave. "Explain."

"How are things going here Bell?"

"Don't patronise me John, answer the question."

"He's busy, safe, happy, focused, can I pour you a drink."

"You sound like a politician, reminds me of why I killed a few."

Stanton sipped bourbon. "I suppose I have a responsibility to inform you."

"Hallelujah."

"Go to your room and I'll see you there."

"You want to peel this dress from my body and ravish me."

"Of course I do."

Louise had been busy tutoring Rose in the rules and techniques of billiards, she watched Bella and Stanton from the corner of her eye, she read Stanton's lips, the only one of them she could see. She shouted across the table. "You should tell Bella where John junior is, where is your son, what is he doing. I know what its like to have a member of your family missing, not knowing, waiting."

Stanton held face in his usual manor. "Drink, cognac perhaps."

Louise became enraged and her French accent dominated. "No John! We should retire to discuss this in the bedroom."

Stanton tried to work out the angle, did they want sex, did they really want to find out about John junior, they were under surveillance, he had no choice to find out. "Agreed."

Rose threw the pool cue on the table and put her hands on her hips. "Have I missed something?"

"You can come too Rose."

"Come, thank god I'm busting."

Bella turned on her. "Rose! This is serious shit and..."

Stanton interrupted. "To Roses room all of you."

Bella snapped at him. "Why Rose's room?"

Stanton remained calm and smiled at Bella. "Because I asked you Bell." She stormed off up the corridor, Louise calmly followed her.

Rose looked at Stanton with raised eyebrows and a wide smile. "Wow are you gonna cop it from Bell, she's fuming."

Stanton gestured toward the door. "I'll follow you Rose." Rose picked up the bottom of her flowing gown and trotted out the door toward the stairs.

They passed Rose's new maid, now renamed 'ham sandwich connoisseur' by Rose. "Will you be using the games room again," she asked.

"Not sure, could you clear the top floor, only Hurst to be permitted through to Roses room," replied Stanton.

"Yes sir."

Stanton chuckled before answering. "Rose will correct you should you call me sir again, so will I."

"Of course, getting used to it," they moved on.

Bella had her back to the wall opposite the door waiting for Stanton, she wore a scowl, arms folded tapping one foot on the carpet. Central furnishing in the bedroom was a four poster bed, ornately carved in oak with black and gold drapes. Hanging beside the bed on the wood panelling, were new pictures of horses and boats in the harbour of Portsmouth. The ancient paintings of previous family members had been removed. An adjoining bathroom was equally as pretentious, as was the crystal chandelier in the middle of the bedroom and the massive gold mirror dominating the dressing table. Rose hated it but it was tinged with a new scent, refreshing new clothes and modern perfumes. Stanton closed the oak monument that was the door, he lent against the door and smiled at Bella across the other side of the room. "This is one of the only rooms in the manor without surveillance."

Bella was unmoved. "Someone going to appear from the wall while Rose is bonking god knows who."

Stanton put his palms on the door behind him, arms hanging beside his body. "What Rose does in here is her business as with your own room."

"Where is my son?"

"He's below your feet."

"So, just as I thought, the place is a hidden fortress, having fun with your new toy are we. Now who is Greywolf?"

"No one knows."

"Don't you lie to me John Stanton."

"You are free to search every file and scrap of information we have on Greywolf Some say he's white and bald, some say he's black and tall, some say he has glasses, best thing is he remain anonymous."

"Is that a suggestion?"

"Yes it is Bell."

"If it's my son then I have a right to know."

"John junior will see you shortly, right here."

"Will he come through the door?"

"Of course not."

Bella walked to the bed and sat down, she looked small in relevance to the furnishing, Rose sat next to her. Louise sat on a red velour Victorian lounge beside the dressing table facing the bed, Stanton joined her. "So he does work with you."

"I've never left him Bell, for god sake he's my son as well. He has been forced to do nothing he didn't want to do, I have merely supported him."

"You would have groomed him John you bastard, you promised me you'd look after him."

Rose put her arm around Bella. "Come on Bell, if he's a mix of you and John anything could happen, not Johns fault or responsibility to try and bend the inevitable."

"I just want to see him Rose."

Stanton got up and walked to the bed. "And see him you shall."

"Here."

"Yes here."

"How do you know?"

"You won't stop him, he would love to see you."

"He knows I'm here?"

"Yes of course."

"I'm confused John, why are we here."

"We are back to the Foulness lair level, just a bit better accommodation."

"We are sitting ducks for god's sake."

"Hopefully the adversaries will think the same."

Rose beaming with enthusiasm made comment. "I don't like the place or this room to any great extent, but it's better than Foulness."

"Smell John's clothes Rose."

"Mmm, I can a bit from here, does smell like the lair."

"It's beneath us Rose."

"What underneath this place."

"Been there since it was built and had extensive modifications over the last few years no doubt."

"I was involved," said Louise.

Rose and Bella looked at her their faces etched with question. "When was that exactly?"

Stanton interrupted. "Louise was the obvious one to familiarise with the operation, working from Paris it took the heat off both of you."

"She's been here before, and in the grounds below," snapped Bella, the wind taken from her sails.

"Should there be a problem Louise knows her way around."

Bella and Rose stood up, Bella spoke. "Well thanks for letting everyone know what's going on, have fun did we, showing her around, been in this room before have we?"

"Settle down Bell, only now do you need to know."

Rose sniggered. "Told you she was pissed off."

There was a knock on the door, Stanton walked over and opened up. It was Hurst. "You better take this John, its Lola your daughter."

Stanton grabbed the satellite phone. "Thanks." He closed the door and stood with his back to it phone to his ear. "Lola."

"Dad, its mum, she's come round after the surgery."

"Is she okay?"

"You must come back, I'm having a hell of a time with her."

"Can she remember anything?"

"She remembers some of the young men, she's devastated. The surgery was successful, took the pressure off the area caused by the growth, it was benign. She needs you dad, she thinks you'll never come back because of what she did."

"Is she up and around?"

"She should come out of hospital in a couple of days, she keeps bursting into tears. I rang because we need you, I think she's depressed and suicidal. She wrote a story on herself over what happened."

"Well, she is journalist, she can't help herself."

"I read it; she called herself a skanky bitch."

Stanton rubbed his forehead. "Oh god, she'll probably never come to terms with it."

"Well that's just dandy dad now can you come home immediately."

"I'll be there tomorrow."

"Thank god, Cadiche visited her she just kept crying, he left without her saying a word."

"Shit," Stanton shook his head. "I'll be there, hang in there."

"Thanks dad, I have to go."

"Okay poppet, see you soon." Stanton hung up, opened the door and handed the phone back to Hurst. "Get a plane into Heathrow, destination Australia."

"Ones on the ground at Foulness, can be here by the time you go to the airport."

"Get a chopper on the lawn, give them something to think about, if I openly leave may encourage them to nose around and you can nail a few."

"Agreed, there's a chopper on the lawn, came in ten minutes ago."

"Crank it up I'm on my way."

Hurst sprinted away and Stanton closed the door without shutting it. "I must go, Jodi has come round after her surgery."

Bella grimaced. "Is she ok..."

"She's better than expected but I have to go."

Bella stamped her foot in rage. "John! Just like that, you run to her."

Stanton opened the door and stood in the doorway. "You better focus Bell, when I leave, this place will be crawling with god knows who, concentrate, or some hotshot adversary is gonna to flame your arse."

He walked over and kissed them all on the forehead, then walked toward the door. Bella stopped him. "John." He turned back. "I'm concerned, nearly scared."

Stanton wore a reassuring grin. "Below these walls is a wolf, a grey and mysterious wolf. They aint seen nothing yet, they come near you they wont know if they're Arthur or Martha." He walked briskly away down the hall toward the stairs.

Rose looked puzzled. "Arthur or Martha, I don't know those people."

"Its Australian slang Rose, same as they wont know if they're coming or going."

"Oh coming and going, he he, yeah I know that."

Bella wore a half pout and shook her head. "Come on, we better get ready, I don't want my arse flamed."
CHAPTER THREE

Rose ran a bath, she never bathed in a tub but the free standing gold ornament in the bathroom had an appeal she had never experienced. She frothed the water with soap and bubble bath immersing herself in the white sweet smelling froth. She hummed and sung as she played with the suds, giggling when she lost the soap and tried to find it. The water lost its heat and she climbed out, pulled the plug and showered. She was drying herself with a sumptuous deep pile white bath towel, running it up and down her naked body, she felt a presence, she looked round but could see no one. She dropped the towel on the floor and gathered a dressing gown from the rack beside the shower cubicle, put it on and tied the belt. She walked into the bedroom, then into the walk in wardrobe, as big as here entire bedroom had been at previous abodes. She hummed as she went through the long flowing gowns, selected a black and gold full length then walked into the bedroom looking at it in front of her face as she went. "Mmm, I like it." She ran into something with a jump, she lowered the gown and there he was. They stood in silence for many seconds, helplessness crept across her body, she dropped the gown to the floor. "You look like John Stanton."

The handsome bald figure wore a smirk familiar to Rose. "Not surprising, my name is John Stanton."

"Bella's son?"

He smiled. "Perhaps."

She touched his face gently with the fingers of her right hand, she whispered. "God your real," her body tingled.

She went to take her hand away and he gently grasped it. "May I touch you?"

"I feel so strange, I feel faint, your touch, your smell, I.. I need to sit down."

He helped her to the bedside and sat her down, he looked down at her face as she looked up at him. "Images fail your justice."

"You've seen me."

"I've heard of you, seen you only today."

"You like me."

"No I feel hopelessly in love with you."

"Something is happening to me, I feel faint, sick, overwhelmed, what's happening." She passed out falling in a heap. He straightened her out on the bed, felt her pulse, it was strong. He touched her face and covered her breasts, the gown had fallen away. He raced down the hall and knocked on his mother's door. "Who is it?"

"Mum."

Bella looked puzzled and walked toward the door her face etched with inquisition. "John is that you."

"Mum open the door." She looked through the peep hole, saw her son and opened up. He took her hand. "Mum come quickly, its Rose she's passed out."

Bella hugged her son, smiled at him then ran toward Rose's room, she rushed through the door and to her side at the bed. She felt her pulse and forehead. "She's burning up, get a flannel with cold water on it." He rushed to the bathroom brining back a hand towel drenched in cold water. Bella folded it up, knelt beside Rose and placed it on her brow, Rose stirred moving her head from side to side. "Rose its Bella, what's happened."

Rose opened her eyes, she could see him over Bella's shoulder. "He's still here thank god."

Bella looked back up at him. "What did you do to her?"

He shook his head with a look of innocence. "I just came in to see her and she went like this."

Bella looked back at Rose. "Do you have any pain Rose?"

"My tummy, I have a pain in my groin."

Bella opened her gown, she could see blood in the region of her groin, between her legs, she opened her legs to look. "Rose, it looks like your menstruating."

He looked away and rubbed his forehead. "Shall I get a doctor?"

Rose spoke. "Doctor George Hollis from Portsmouth, he's my doctor, please get him I'm so scared."

He looked stern, he turned decisively toward Rose. "George Hollis, Albert Hollis's brother."

"Yes, he's my doctor please get him."

Bella looked at her sons stone faced look, reminded her of his father. "Well don't just stand there move, get him here."

"Mum, Portsmouth is ninety kilometres away."

"So your geography is up to date, I'm sure Greywolf can have him here within the hour."

Her son remained calm, stone faced and resolute. "Not sure what you're saying."

Bella stood and invaded his space. "Your father did a good job, insincere to your own mother, my god. I don't know what's wrong with Rose, and I can see your under her spell, we need a doctor that knows her history and can diagnose the problem or we may loose her, your move, checkmate." Her son moved toward the wall with robot like fruition, Bella watched him with a scowl, a wall panel opened without contact, as if it knew he wanted to leave, it closed and he vanished into the darkness. She returned to Rose.

"Bell what's happening?"

"It's okay Rose, George will be here shortly, come on well get you cleaned up and into bed."

She clung to Bella. "This has never happened before."

"Looks like your menstruating, but a bit late in life for that. How do you feel?"

"I felt good while your son was here, I was overwhelmed."

"Meaning what?"

"I feel in love with him."

Bella shook her head as she guided Rose to the bathroom. "Oh my god."

John junior walked the caverns and tunnels of the lair shouting commands. "Brannigan!"

"John."

"We have someone in Portsmouth at present."

"Several protecting Rose's mother."

"Get one of them to bundle George Hollis into a chopper and fly him here."

"That would jeopardise the entire operation."

"Leave that to me, I said he was coming here, I didn't say anything about him leaving." Brannigan grabbed a satellite phone.

Wolf walked on and sat down at a computer station, he brought up files and began to study them. Hurst came in. "We have George Hollis mobile from Portsmouth, I believe you must have a good reason."

"Rose Cavendish is bleeding from the uterus."

"We have a doctor here."

"I was going to see George Hollis this week, he's coming to see me, bit of a godsend you might say."

"Roses mother Brenda, she'll be a sitting duck."

John junior thought for a while. "Get the agents covering her to bring her here, burn her house to the ground, leave a body in the rubble burnt beyond recognition."

"Where are we going to get a body?"

Greywolf turned to Hurst with a cold smile. "Lovington."

"She's missing, with the Forbes and Bartholomew Richmond, your father has been looking for them for ages."

John junior stood. "Dead, apart from Sandra Lovington, she is held up with Roses mother."

"Good god, does your father know all this."

"Some of it."

"Lovington has a lot of information we need."

"I have it, passed it on to my father minutes ago."

Hurst was hesitant. "What is Lovington doing with Roses mother?"

"Long story, basically lying on her back, she replaced Rose."

"Have you bee...."

"Yes I have."

Again Hurst hesitated. "I see, have you discussed this with your father."

"Dad has gone home, he has lost his edge, its time to move. Pick up Rose's mother, kill Lovington and burn the lot."

"That's cold blooded murder."

Greywolf folded his arms. "Would you like me to relate some of the antics this woman supported and was hands on involved with?"

"No thanks, I find it quite sickening."

"Then why do you question?"

"Sanctions are an agglomeration of factors."

"And you are void of enough lotto numbers, as my father would say."  
Hurst looked down, then back up into his eyes. "No, but it's murder."

"The battle of the Somme in the first world war, what was that exactly, sixty thousand British alone in the first twenty four hours."

"These are civilians."

"Soldiers were once civilians, they now send women in uniform. We are below the very perpetrators nest, poised to strike a lesson beyond comprehension, after years of work, on the hour you hesitate."

"Your resolve goes beyond your father's purpose."

"His resolve went beyond my grandfathers, but he now admits he was right." Hurst walked away a few steps with his back to Greywolf, he rubbed his forehead and sighed. "Remove Roses mother and I will act on the rest."

Hurst turned back. "No, I'll see to it, Lovington is of no further use and a capital risk."

"I'd drop her at the Overlords clubhouse but we need a dead body in the ruins, use Brenda's watch, jewellery, clothes, avoid a DNA test."

"You appear on first names with Rose's mother."

"I like sex, have never tried to hide the fact."

"Vince, the handyman, he's like family."

"Leave him to mourn, make sure he's clear, part of the cover process."

A man entered the cavern. "Wolf, George Hollis was on his way to Westminster, we managed to divert him to High Wycombe and picked him up there. He's being shown up to Rose Cavendish's room."

"Thank you, and excellent." The young man raced away.

Hurst wore a look of deep inquest. "Wolf."

Greywolf stood with his arms behind his back, his right had clasping his left wrist. "Rose will need her mother shortly."

"And George."

"Will never leave here."

"Your father uses him on a regular basis."

"My father has conveyed responsibility my way, George should have been made an example of long ago, George will assist the flowers with bloom."

"We are killing off our own contacts."

"I disagree; we are killing off parasites, murders and enemies of the public, the aristocracy has fallen, times have changed, people don't like change, whom would be the law should we not take a hand and for what did we do this." He shrugged his shoulders. "If my father directed these things, you would act without question."

Hurst slowly nodded. "Yes, I would."

"If you prefer to contact him for verification do so, if he disagrees then wash your hands of it and I will act."

"No, he has said those very words to me at times, what rank did you attain whilst training."

"I was trained beside my father, my existence has never been on the record, and you at times have assisted in this."

"Mmm, my memory does not serve me as well as it has, I was led to believe you came to us direct from military college."

"My father is a military college, somewhat different but real, you have not been deceived."

"I must get on." Hurst left in a brisk walk.

George Hollis looked totally puzzled, he examined Rose alone in her bathroom, Bella waited outside in the bedroom. "What's wrong George?"

He shook his head while cleaning his glasses. "Nothing, you are menstruating, short and sharp, you have become fertile."

Rose put her hand over her mouth. "What, how."

"I have no idea, never seen anything like it in my fifty years in gynaecology."

"Is there something wrong with me?"

"No, you're perfectly healthy." He began to undo his trousers. "Now, been a while Rose, just going to relive old times."

She withdrew to the wall, grabbed her gown and covered herself. "Don't you touch me, you filthy pig."

George raised his eyebrows and took off his glasses. "Rose, you love sex."

"The thought is making me sick, I want John."

"Good lord, never thought Id see the day, look come over here and drop that silly gown."

Rose ran to the door, opened it and raced into the bedroom. "Bell, he's trying to rape me."

Bella lifted one eyebrow and folded her arms. "Rose, is this one of your silly games, I'm not getting involved."

Rose ran to Bella and hid behind her. "No please get him away, the thought makes me sick, I want John junior."

George came out of the bathroom with his bag in hand, Bella questioned him. "What's going on?"

"Rose is fine, she is in remarkable health and now fertile, never seen anything like it. She's refusing sex, rather disappointing."

A deep male voice rumbled from over by the wall panelling. "For whom."

Rose ran to him cowering behind his legs holding her gown over her private parts. "John, get him away from me."

"Sir George, how nice to see you."

George looked at Bella for guidance, his face etched with fear. "This man looks like John Stanton without hair."

"Probably because my name is John Stanton."

"He just left for Australia, you can't be him."

"He's my son," commented Bella. "John Stanton is his father."

George Hollis scowled at him. "So it is true, when this gets out you'll all be finished."

John junior gently picked up Rose and helped put her gown on. He walked her to the bedside and sat her down. He calmly walked into George Hollis space nose to nose. "Come with me Sir George, time we had a chat."

"When your father hears about this you'll be sorry."

"My father is no longer in control, he has pressing matters elsewhere, now if you would walk towards the wall I'll show you a far more convenient way out."

"I'll show myself out thank you."

"That's not possible, your chauffer meet with an unfortunate accident whilst driving into town for a snack."

"I never told him he could do that."

Greywolf raised his eyebrows with a look of nonchalance. "Strange, someone appears to have relayed that information to him."

George put his hand on John to push him to one side. "This is ridiculous out of my way."

A swift knife hand meet Hollis's neck and he feel to the floor, he didn't move. Greywolf rolled him onto his back with his foot. Bella walked over and checked his status, she looked up at her son. "He's dead."

John junior walked over to Rose. "He can't hurt you now, go to bed and get some rest, I'll be back in a while." He walked back to Hollis, he bent down, slung him over his shoulder and walked toward the wall panelling, it opened.

Bella shouted at her son. "John, was that really necessary."

He turned back just before the entrance. "He threatened Rose, I was thwart with rage."

"You sound like your father, is everyone that threatens Rose going to die?"

"No, anyone whom threatens us in general, especially you mother, Rose and Louise."

"My god what has he done to you."

"It's everyone else's fault is it mother."

Bella looked around awkward and challenged. "No, of course not. He promised me he would look after you, what has he done to you."

"Nothing I didn't want done, now if you'll excuse me I have some fertiliser for the garden, shit like this is good on Roses."

The panel closed and Bella sat next to Rose on the bed, they looked into space in silent solitude. "You've fallen in love with him haven't you Rose."

"Yes."

"Do you want some sex?"

"No, see Louise."

"You've never refused it before."

"I never felt like this before, you don't want me to have him do you."

"You just refused sex, one thing at a time Rose."

"John's gone back to his wife, I'm wondering what the hell is going on, what will you do."

"Talk to Louise, things are changing, she's probably in bed with one of the many young men hanging around the place."

"She's cooking in the kitchen, she likes the kitchen here, and she can really cook yummy snacks." There was a knock on the door. "Come in."

A young broad shouldered man walked in, he hesitated when he saw Bella and spoke in broken lines of distraction. "Excuse me, Louise has cooked a meal and would like to see, em you, in the kitchen."

"You come from down below."

"Yes."

Bella stood up, he swallowed looking up and down her body. "You know who I am."

"Yes, Miss Fonteyn."

"Woo ho Miss Fonteyn, Good come with me, I have a job for you." She turned to Rose. "You are going to rest."

"Yes I feel so tired, just need a couple of hours."

"I think we have some kind of schedule to attend to I'll find out."

The young man answered. "Miss Cavendish's schedule for today was cancelled due to illness."

Bella looked at Rose. "That's how focused we've been, you wouldn't believe so much could go on in a bedroom. Do you know where my room is?"

"Yes Miss Fonteyn, I'm assigned to security of that section."

"Can you go and run me a bath."

"That's not my purpose but if you insist."

"I insist, your name."

"Names are not important."

"Mmm, trained to keep your trap shut."

He swallowed hard. "Em, should I run the bath Miss."

"You better go get busy," commented Rose.

"Call when you're hungry should you want some of Louise's food, I'll go down see if I can find out about this schedule for tomorrow." Bella walked toward the door, the young man opened it wide to let her out.

"I have tomorrow's itinerary in my head Miss Fonteyn."

"Really, come with me and we'll sort things out."

Rose chuckled. "Let me know what's going on."

"Bit of comic relief, seen enough death and drudgery for one day, have to keep the spirits up, just in time to take our mind off it, well done young man." They left and the door closed.
CHAPTER FOUR

Greywolf remained stone faced and steadfast, the veracity was he had been deeply affected by the verbal exchange with his father before leaving for Australia. After disposing of the body of George Hollis he watched Rose Cavendish on the security screen, his want for her grew but she remained in bed recovering. His thought train was re routed as a young man entered the cavern. "The boffins took control of an American drone over Iraq, then one over Washington, for just a few seconds, its been done, we have penetrated their network. You wish to strike in the near future?"

Greywolf sat in silent solitude for a few seconds then turned to the young man. "We need the Russian nuclear arsenal, the only one we have no control over as yet."

"The boffins say another few days at most."

"The Americans knocked out one of our satellites, we can't afford to loose them like that."

The young man shrugged his shoulders. "We pressed the boffins to hard, was a godsend in a way, the Americans have stopped looking thinking they took out what they were looking for."

Greywolf stood and faced the young man. "Yesterday you reported the _Karl Vincent_ group was in South West of Crete in the Mediterranean."

"Yes."

"Attacked the north of Iraq and South Western Syria with cruise missiles and a coalition of air power."

"Well yes."

"Take control of the group, turn the _Karl Vincent_ around one hundred and eighty degrees, no longer than ten minutes, then relinquish control to the Americans."

"Your father rejected that suggestion only a few days ago, could start world war three, the Russians will react negatively."

"And open all their communication channels giving us."

"Access to their software via our satellites, and we could have control of their nuclear arsenal in minutes, a gamble."

"How many times have you heard my father distinguish risk from gambling."

"A few."

"My father has done this for too long, his edge has been dulled with wisdom and age. Do it and report back to me, I bear the responsibility."

"Mmm, the boffins were in favour of this plan, was your father that stopped it."

"He didn't stop it, he delayed it, the lunatics in the Middle East required attention, the carrier group is not scheduled for another strike until tomorrow, the exercise won't affect outcomes in the area. Our American arm is missing a satellite, we need reassure them we are still here and redirect their communication channels."

"Agreed."

"Do you know if the virus encryption has been perfected?"

"I wondered if you'd mention that, the boffins are keen, they've tested the new one several times and has worked fine."

"Who would the virus be linked to this time, the last target was a waste of time."

"The suggestion is the Klu Klux Klan in Sothern Mississippi."

"That's Bret McCrea's neck of the woods, who the hell came up with that, the pentagon won't buy it."

"Intelligence indicates that's not the case."

"I agree they'll use it in the media but beneath the shroud look elsewhere, they still view the area as backward, unable to achieve such a task." Greywolf shrugged his shoulders and folded his arms. "We need encrypt an adversary they may suspect."

"Islamic State."

"They're already dropping a bucket load of shit on them, waste of time. I thought about this, use the IMF."

"The International Monetary Fund."

"Their CEO."

"They're still trying to prop up the stock market, would have incalculable consequences."

"For whom."

"Everyone."

"Exactly, and that's always pretty safe."

"The Americans will sanction him."

"About time they pulled their weight, he's on my list anyway, can't kill everyone at once."

"Can if you have a nuclear arsenal."

Greywolf raised his finger with a smile. "Ah, and that's where we started. If the boffins have a problem send them to me, McCrea, Dirk Truman and Conrad Wayne will again have contact with us, subtle but I'm sure they'll pick it up."

"The CIA has been watching them like a hawk."

Greywolf chuckled. "They are the CIA."

The young man nodded. "Good point, I'll get on to it." He made haste and left.

Greywolf again sat and watched Rose, she was in the kitchen with Louise, regardless of advice to stay in bed and rest. He had problems concentrating, the weight of responsibility hung over his head and the tiff with his father still hounded him. He ran over his plan again in his mind and was interrupted by Henry Dowden, grey and hunched over he had been head of scientific research for Greywolf's father for decades. He shuffled along with a walking stick, wore a herringbone cap on his bald head and thick glasses with silver metal rims. During Greywolf's education he had spent many hours with the ancient scholar and respected him as much as his father. Dowden shuffled to his side and Greywolf stood in respect. "Boy, you have asked for a play of the utmost risk."

"Henry, would you have done anything different way back when my father started all this."

Dowden looked into Greywolf's face, he blinked profusely and began to stutter. "I, I, I can't remember." He hunted for breath and became agitated, Greywolf sat him down in his chair and remained standing, Dowden looked up at him. "Boy, your father spent much of his life stopping people having absolute power, he is a great believer in the separation of powers. If we do what you ask you will have complete control over the world's nuclear arsenal should you need it, that's absolute power?"

Greywolf knelt and held Dowden's frail and wrinkled hands. "Henry, without it I can't as much as take control of an airborne drone and direct its wrath on those whom perpetrate evil. Today the US is number one in billionaires, number one in corporate profit, number one in CEO salaries, number one in child poverty and number one in income and wealth irregularity in the industrial world. Religion is for people afraid of going to hell, spirituality is for those who have already been there. How many times has my father been to hell and back, but still to some extent was a servant of the cause."

Henry looked positively terrified. "Good lord, the second coming. Is there not another way this can be done?"

"You don't see faith heelers working in hospitals for the same reason you don't see psychics winning the lottery. How many times did my father win division two and the final win escaped him."

Henry's hands shook with fear and Greywolf steadied him. "I feel a similar fear to when we were banished from the island."

"We are no longer banished, we are beneath their feet, hell hath no limits, give me the power my father fought for, and his father fought for."

"And what of power when you pass, your father had you, heirs and family need persistence, or they may rise again."

"I told you once when I saw her Id know, I've found her."

"Who?"

"Rose Cavendish."

"Good god boy, she's the devils daughter, twice you're age."

"Things are not always as they seem Henry, she ages at half the rate I do."

Henry wore a slight smile and calmed. "Interesting analogy, numbers are for mathematical equations boy. Why Rose, she has the aura of the devil, when near her I lost all rationality."

"And when near her I gained mine."

Henry looked down and began to slowly nod. "Spirituality works in mysterious ways." He looked back up. "I have known you since you were a baby, we have had great times together, and I can muster no plausible reason to stop you." He began to stand and Greywolf steadied him, he took to his walking stick and shuffled away turning briefly with a smile before going out of sight.

CHAPTER FIVE

"Rose, you should be in bed resting."

Rose could hear the voice behind her, she melted, and a feeling of wellbeing came over her. "I'm helping Louise make an apple pie."

"I'm sure Louise can handle that herself, you need get well to able to attend to your duties."

"It's boring laying in bed, waiting for what?"

"The fourteenth day, you will be allowed out after the fourteenth day, doctors orders."

She turned to find him standing right next to her and looking into her face. "What doctor, you bloody killed the only doctor I consulted?"

"Me."

"You're a doctor."

He looked around shrugged his shoulders. "I have basic medical training."

Rose pouted one side of her mouth. "Dr Killmore."

"You better come with me up to the bedroom, you need anything ring the bell for Mary."

"Woo ho my mojo just lit up, I thought I lost it."

Louise busy making pastry made comment. "You should go up and rest Rose, what's happening to you is really weird."

"I was trying to take my mind of things, you do nothing but think up there by yourself, never had to do much of that before was always to busy."

Louise stopped what she was doing and focused. "Rose, you lost a lot of blood, you really should see another doctor."

"Another reason for going to your room, we have a specialist brought in specially to examine you."

Rose pulled her dressing gown around her to hide her cleavage. "Oh is that why you want me in the bedroom." Rose reluctantly walked up the stairs to her room, Greywolf followed and closed the door behind them.

"You have to remember Rose audio and visual monitors are everywhere other than the bedrooms, you have to think about what your saying." There was a knock on the door just as he closed it. "This will be the doctor." He opened the door and in walked a middle aged man in a black suit carrying a small leather bag.

"I'm looking for Rose so I'm instructed." Greywolf gestured toward Rose sitting on the side of the bed. He approached her looking over the top of his thick black rimmed glasses, he sat them back on his nose and extended his hand. "Dr er Smith at your service, what seems t...."

Greywolf interrupted. "You can get on with it, took ages to get you here, you understand."

He looked at Greywolf with disgruntled sneer. "Where is John Stanton, I was led to believe I was summoned by he."

"That's my father, get on with it, em Mr Smith. You could have been a bit more articulate."

"All I could think of at the time."

"I know who you are, where you came from, what you've been doing, who you've been doing it with, you can be trusted is all that concerns me, now." Greywolf gestured to Rose.

The doctor pulled up a chair, an ornate red velvet carved Victorian antique, he struggled. "Don't they have functional chairs in here, this is rather heavy." He looked at Greywolf but he never moved a muscle. "Of course." He positioned the chair opposite Rose and sat down. "Now, I'm a gynaecologist, what seems to be the problem." Greywolf leaned over and handed him a brief sheet from his pocket, the doctor read it. He looked up at Rose, then at Greywolf. He shook his head. "This can't be right she looks like she's no more than thirty."

"We didn't write the brief sheet for you to question it, we need a prognosis."

"I've serviced a case like this, I will need to examine you." Rose stood up and dropped her gown backwards onto the bed, the doctor swallowed heavily. "My god, what a woman, I've read of you, in the paper. Please lay back and open your legs with your vagina on the edge of the bed and your legs upright and out of the way." He rummaged around in his bag and pulled out an instrument, he put it together and knelt in front of Roses exposed privates. "Now this may be a bit cold." He gently thrust the scope into her, he looked into the end of it, he turned it round to several positions and then gently removed it. He put the instrument in his bag and sat on the chair. He went to make notes.

"Forget it."

The doctor forced a smile and looked at Greywolf. "Of course." He discarded his pen and notepad and looked back at Rose, he scratched his head and thought for a while as Rose put her gown back on and sat down. "Things look quite healthy and normal, I can offer no explanation, you asked for a prognosis, Rose is a healthy fertile woman, she looks less than half her age inside and out."

"Thank you doctor, that will be all."

Rose asked a question. "Can I have a baby?"

The doctor nodded. "Yes, I can see no reason why not, the fertility time after menstruation is around fourteen days, for some reason you appear to have bypassed that time frame and show signs of immediate fertility."

"Does she need to rest?"

"I don't see why, she can go about her normal business, she's a very healthy woman."

"Excuse me a second." Greywolf opened the door, he spoke to the agent that brought him in waiting outside, the agent lent in close offering his ear. "Where did you get this man?"

"Your father directed us to him when the request was made, your father also suggested he not leave, he was one of the Cavendish's doctors. He is suspected to have executed two of the Smith family related to Rose in an effort to get information on her a few years back."

"Give him to Bella, see what she can find before he meets with a heart attack on one of our country roads." The agent nodded and stood by the door as Greywolf opened it. "Thanks doc, the gentleman whom accompanied you here will show you to your room, little late to leave and bit of hospitality to show our appreciation."

The doctor stood up with a smile gathering his bag. "Oh really, how nice, always willing to help." He walked out the door and joined the agent. "Our security head will consult with you regarding anything you may need and your departure time."

"Oh thank you, most kind of you." They walked away toward Bella's room.

Greywolf closed the door locking it and then lent with his back to it, he looked at Rose with eyes of fire and a yearning love lust. "You will carry my son."

Rose stood and dropped her robe to the floor. "Your damn right I will, god how I've wanted you, waited for you." She stretched out her arms. "Come to me, give me your genes, we will be one forever."

He helped her onto the bed and took off his clothes arranging them neatly on the chair the doctor had used. He climbed on the bed and for a few seconds looked at her feet looked at her. He shuffled on his knees between her legs and with one motion lay on her and entered her, she screamed with approval and looked at the ceiling mirror as he pounded away, she dug her nails into the flesh of his back drawing blood. She whimpered, squirmed, her eyes full of fire, he delivered and as they lay there motionless glistening with sweat, she felt a tingling in her womb as they became one.
CHAPTER SIX

Bella exploded. "Pregnant! We only just moved in here, what the hell will we tell everyone, you're supposed to be milady and you're telling me you're pregnant!" Bella tapped her foot on the floor with her arms folded, locked in a daggers gaze with Rose. "How can you be so sure?"

"I got Mary to get this test kit, look its gone blue, I'm getting sick in the morning." Bella snatched the plastic headpiece.

She looked back at Rose with a vengeance. "Who?"

Rose looked away. "Emm."

"Oh no?"

Rose mumbled toward the ground sitting on the edge of her four poster. "John junior."

"Could it possibly be anyone else?"

Rose stood and flew into a rage. "You bitch, holier than thou, I've lost it, something's happened, god I need help and you give me nothing but grief!" Rose fell on the bed and began to weep into her hands. "I don't know what's going on, I just want John junior, my lust has left," she looked up at Bella. "God Bell for god's sake help me."

"Where is he?"

"I don't know."

"Was he here last night?"

"Yes."

"Get him here."

"Woo ho grandma."

"Louise knocked and came in. "I can hear you down the hall in my room Bella, what is wrong."

"Petal here is pregnant."

Louise walked over and sat down next to Rose, she cradled her head over her shoulder as she sobbed, she whispered to her. "Wow, a mum, something I have longed for, congratulations."

Rose settled and pushed Louise to arms length. "Thank you." Rose took a tissue from the box on her bedside table and blew her nose. "Bitch here is a bit sensitive because she's going to be a granny."

Louise chuckled under her breath. "No one could have stopped that."

Bella was unmoved. "So you think its okay."

Louise shrugged her shoulders and pouted. "Of course, they are in love, can't you see that."

"My son is in love to about the depth of his co...."

"Mother!" A stern voice echoed from the wall panel and Greywolf entered, the panel closed behind him."

Bella hunted down her son with her eyes aflame. "You little shit!"

"Louise, take Rose to your room I need to talk to my mother."

They shuffled out, the air felt as if it could be cut with a knife, mother and son looked their gaze, the door finally closed with a quiet click. "You bastard, you're worse than your father."

"And my mother, or am I of them both."

"I didn't want this for you."

"Again we hear what you want mother."

"Don't you patronise me."

"You are supposed to be here to protect each other, here you are condemning the very heart of our life."

"Leave me out of this."

Greywolf closed on his mother. "The doctor, fun was he, all relegated to only my mother, no one else is permitted to bonk whenever it pleases them, died with a smile on his face they tell me." He met his mother face to face. "I could blame you mother but I chose to take responsibility for my own actions."

"Responsibility, impregnating Rose Cavendish, how exactly do you plan to handle the press over this one, the public aren't exactly supportive of illegitimate roll models."

"I don't know mum I haven't done this before."

"We should be thankful for small mercies."

"You love Rose and the child as much as I or I take her away from here."

"You will do nothing of the kind, I will protect them to my last drop of blood."

The room feel silent. "I was drawn and compelled to do this, I have no explanation."

"Well I do, Rose is a randy tart."

The room again feel silent. "Thanks for loving me so much, only a mother would see it that way." Bella began to sob in her hands, Wolf was taken back, he held her close. "I've never seen you cry before mother."

"I've cried for you many times, never burdened you with it."

"It's no Burden mother." They stayed embraced for a while, Wolf held his mother at arms length. "We have a mother in need of support, love, want, you understand these things better than I mother. Come out from behind your shield of shame, you have nothing to be ashamed of."

"I'm scared the child may be like me or your father."

"Should the child look like you and be like father, or look like father and be like you, we can only hope."

Bella settled, she sniffed, she walked to the dresser and cleaned her face in the mirror and returned to her son. "I better go see Rose and make plans."

"I have to go, will be for a few days."

"Does Rose know?"

"Of course not, I should not have told you."

"This is not a good time to leave her."

"There is never a good time, but there is a time of no other choice or give up."

"I would much rather have lived in a little house with your father and watched you grow."

"And that's you, father and I is it."

Bella found a smile, she shook her head. "No, but it sounds good."

"I'll be back soon as I can."

"God speed."

The panel in the wall opened and he vanished. Bella drew a big sigh, she sat down on the bed for a while thinking, looking round the room, gathering her thoughts. There was a gentle knock on the door. "Come in Rose."

Rose peered round the door. "I came to get my things."

"No you didn't, come here."

Rose left the door open, walked solemnly to the bed and sat down next to Bella. "Sorry Bell, made things difficult for us."

"No, just put me in my place."

"What do we do now?"

"Plan for the arrival of a baby."

"I don't want to do that alone."

"Nor I."

"What are we going to tell everyone?"

"I have some ideas, let's go see Louise."

"She went to her room, she thinks we're finished."

"We only just started."

"Now I'm confused."

"You want to see it from my side."

"I have an idea."

"Tell me about it, I'm all ears."

"Come on lets go see Louise." They strolled down the hall, knocked on Louise's door and she let them in.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Greywolf paced the floor of the caverns, it was he that now bore the burden his father had so often lived with. Shielded from the experience of full frontal warfare by his father he had operated for most alone. He grappled with missing his mother and now Rose, in solitude the respect for his father depend, how had his father distanced himself from Bella, Jodi, the entire family, Greywolf had to refocus as the lines of law now stood with him. Very time he left the lair he was converted by the stealth of disguise, he had become a better actor than Hollywood headliners, but he yearned to be known in person as his father had for so long.

Greywolf slogged away in the gym, moving from machine to machine, toning his body, sweating, maintaining his performance. He ran the grounds of the manor, the gardeners dogs ran with him, Doberman's, they always stopped at their trained limits and returned to their turf. He ran the woods alongside the great Flaxmead, he smiled at his cry breaking the silence of the countryside. Greywolf entered the lair, he noticed time was getting shorter. He would have to cut corners with his fitness regime, he wondered how his father had fitted everything in, he grappled with delegation, but never faltered from his purpose.

In the communications room he watched the screen, not Rose but a myriad of information from allied sources, Henry Dowden entered the cavern, Greywolf could hear the familiar click of his walking stick on the stone floor. Dowden sat beside Greywolf and uttered a few words. "It worked, we have control of the planets nuclear arsenal should we require it."

Greywolf turned to him in deep thought, he looked into space. "I thought it would be easy, I was wrong."

Henry chuckled with a nod and a warming smile. "Mmm, I have seen your father struggle with the same thing."

Wolf looked at Henry. "Where is your family, you seldom leave here."

"All gone, the Second World War."

Greywolf looked blank, disturbed and troubled. "Why have I never asked this before?"

"We are family, you had your father as well."

"I'm having to tackle emotional problems I never expected."

"Your father is a hard man, but has a heart of gold."

"I understand that now, I run with that horse every day I'm here, and the dogs, they all give me unprecedented love, I feel a strange presence."

"There are rumours of you and the Cavendish woman."

"They aren't rumours, I've fallen in love with her."

"Ahh, and now the main event."

Greywolf looked lost. "Not sure what you mean."

"You had only meaning boy, no purpose, now you have purpose that has meaning."

Greywolf thought deeply for a few seconds looking at the wrinkles on Henrys face that made the map of wisdom. "Without your family your purpose was here."

"I don't want to see another family loose its entire being bar one, no matter where they come from."

"It was the Germans."

"It was the war boy, the Germans were the route cause you might say, things could have been done differently."

"The last world war was stopped with a nuclear weapon."

"And the next will start with one."

"Why me?"

"Your father didn't want control of the nuclear arsenal, he was a great believer in the balance of power. Take care in what you say, the walls have ears, we need focus on today, tomorrow we may be able to talk of things we need to know."

"The poor get poorer and the rich get richer, there is no balance in commercial democracy, the poor have been voting for the same people for decades, they're still poor."

"Commerce is a product of democracy, indeed I agree, after the First World War the rich harboured wealth and the suffering was without equivalence. As time goes on the rich creep ever closer to the same approach, it has become shielded by politics and nothing more than money. To some degree it gave your father an edge, he merely applied the same tactics selling what they wanted to them, protection from themselves."

Greywolf got up and paced up and down, his hands behind his back. "I've moved among these people, heard them make statements I deplored. So few relying on so many for so much, I don't approve, and never have."

"You are a product of changed times, not only do you understand it, you understand for things to change things must change and that has not been achieved as yet."

"I recently personally took out two king pins in Kuwait, only the chain has been broken, their purpose and domineer remain."

"This has been happening for a while now, they got used to it, the price of doing business."

"Exactly what I have been thinking, to make change we need ultimate power."

Henry shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, but he laughed. "And so life goes on."

"Fear has become part of business, things need to change."

"They'll find a way to drain the purse, private sector economic growth they call it."

"I see what my father means about war, although I have never to any great degree been involved in one. You strike at the heart of the oppositions military might, remove their ability to call the shots and instigate reformation."

"Humph, then comes the money."

"And that's where the buck will stop currently, get Scooter down here." Greywolf picked up a phone along side the computer station. "Scooter, to the operations room please."

Scooter was a huge man afro American negro, Greywolf saved him from the jaws of death in Saudi Arabia, he had been sentenced to death for spying, the Americans washed their hands of him for reasons of political convenience. A crack computer buff and espionage agent he had been involved in the development of the reaper and predator drone programmes. Another member of the elite functional with complete stealth, his ID and personal effects left in a burnt out building during an extraction operation operated by Greywolf led the authorities to believe he was dead. A patriotic American he was initially a prisoner of Greywolf's father, the CIA turned on his family in the US when they discovered Scooter was dead. Stanton made efforts to save his family but he was too late saving only his grandmother whom died not long after whilst living with Scooter in London. Scooter was left with no one, arrested by the British police Stanton pulled rank and secured his discharge. Scooter then explained his expertise and gradually became part of the elite, taking control of the drone infiltration programming project, it was the first time it would be used. Scooter had a broad deep growling American accent, he had been a heavy drinker and hard to control but had the utmost respect for Greywolf, and had been sat on his behind by the stocky comparatively short man on more than one occasion. Scooter was always nervous, stocky and plump he would move around as he spoke looking away, Greywolf was the only man he looked in the face. "You called for me sir." Henry got up and shuffled away down one of the many tunnels leaving the control room.

Greywolf smiled, stood up and put his arm around Scooter. "How many times have I told you not to call me sir?"

"You da man."

Greywolf walked Scooter toward a control station in the operations area, his arm around him. "We've been together for a long time, my father liked to see you because you were one of the people still alive among all this shit. We are your family and he demanded that we make sure you felt like you were, how have we done?"

"My Granma told me everyday, you da man."

Wolf chuckled. "Sometimes I found your grandma hard to understand, but I loved her."

"She come from Harlem, we didn't get good schooling, she got none."

"I'm going to ask you to turn a drone on your own people, not just anyone, one single person for starters."

"They took my mom, they took my daddy, they took my sisters and brothers, the left me to die, who you looking to kill."

Wolf lent on the side of the control station, he folded his arms. "Every day at four pm American time, a man comes out of the Wall Street stock exchange and gets into a limousine."

"William Ferrier, I been studying this man, just like you ask me."

"Bill, good ol Bill then goes where?"

"He not even on the board but he control all the seats, he then goes to two blocks to discuss things with senators and powerful people from industry."

"Yes, protected by the government, regardless of financial outcomes at the exchange he controls the distribution of profits for government and the powerful, moves the goal post so you just can't kick a goal."

"He's an evil man."

"We have tried to convince Bill he should change his ways, without success over a year now. Intelligence shows they have withdrawn from electronic communication and now meet daily to exchange information by mouth. We have infiltrated their meetings and they plot to make things worse, convinced they are free from ridicule or oppression. Courtesy of Islamic militants in the Middle East raising terror alerts a drone had been moved to Macarthur Long Island, armed. Take control of the drone, fly it down Wall Street at exactly four pm and take out Bill Ferrier in a time window of a minute or so."

"He be only a few seconds from the door to the limo."

"Not today, someone he knows well will be going in the door and stop him on the sidewalk for a chat."

"They'll scramble fighters when the drone is airborne."

"You get to know a little more now, your remote control of the drone will be unnoticed, when you log in your movements will be stealth, been doing it for years, its how we got you out of Saudi Arabia. Just do what you've been doing on the control panel for the last few years, difference is this one is for real."

"Good damn, you mean I can fly right down Wall Street and no one will know it's me?"

"I can guarantee it."

"Hot damn."

"I then want you to take out the same level operators in Russia, Germany, France and Britain."

"All of the stock exchanges."

"No just those ones, they're the only ones we are sure are cooking the books."

"They gonna crap themselves."

"Well, pretty please has gone without result, the information on the other targets are on the documents beside this control station."

Scooter sat down at the control station, began to study the information. "I got half an hour man, the first one is right here, London, two hours."

"I'll leave you to it." Greywolf walked from the cavern and into a tunnel, he vanished.

CHAPTER NINE

Albert Hollis was crumpled up in his chair, his breathing had become laboured, the smallest of chores was an effort, fighting off the effects of a chest infection during a bout of the flu he soldiered on. He had just finished a phone conversation with the minister for defence, his chair turned toward the wall troubled by the news he received, he thought hard and could just hear the wall panel open and close behind him. He swivelled his chair back around to look over his desk, wasn't quite what he expected to find, he looked inquisitively but stern at the intruder. "Greywolf I presume."

"Yes Mr Hollis."

"At least you have the manners of your father."

"You know why I came."

"Not really, have something to do with a drone flying over Paternoster Square minutes ago and gunning down the top man of the stock exchange." Hollis fumbled with his pipe, loading it with tobacco.

"This person has been spoken to on many occasions about redefining the system."

"He is but a pawn on a very large chess board."

"Remove the pawns and the king and queen are exposed."

"You may also bring out the bishops and knights."

Greywolf nodded with stern resolve. "Indeed, once exposed I can shot at them."

Hollis lit his pipe and blew smoke into the air. "Smoking offends you."

"No, foolish habit, nor do I drink, yet this place stinks of cigars and brandy."

"An aroma held dear by your father."

"I'm not my father, I merely bear his name."

"Indeed." Hollis coughed profusely.

"Your habit creeps up on you."

"Things are not as they sometimes seem, my chest infection from the dam flu does not like the smoke, tell me something, was the drone sent by the elite."

"Yes it was."

"Then it is you whom have control."

"Father has returned home, he retired."

"I am aware of your father's current status. Over the last few days, on two occasions, control of our nuclear arsenal was transferred then returned, do you know anything about that."

"Yes, and don't bother telling me about the Russians, I know they've been in contact with you this morning."

"And what do you plan to do, with this ultimate power, something your father was opposed to."

"Become the law."

"Good god man, are you insane."

"You can look at it several ways; no one nation has a nuclear power any more. They have to negotiate, work out ways to make things work without threat, death and war."

Hollis smirked. "You believe aristocracy and the wealthy are capable of achieving such a thing."

"By this time tomorrow the stock market would have crashed, numbers on big boards will be worth nothing."

"Have you not forgotten the planet is at war in several spots?"

"The elite are withdrawing from these places, when clear they will be eradicated."

"The world runs on the resources of these places, there will be anarchy beyond your wildest dreams."

"My father and I have vehicles that run without oil or the need for constant refuelling of an ever depleting resource, these things were developed long ago. Who is to blame for their neglect, purchased by the powerful the ideas still remain hidden from the public."

"I am old and frail, I still have no answer for you, we are in the midst of change."

"People don't like change."

"Indeed, change sometimes needs to be pushed. I recall Lord Nelson changing battle tactics at the Battle of Trafalgar, his superiors were opposed to the move. Had he not acted as he did, we may not be talking to each other now, but we are."

"Then you approve."

"No, I am without opinion."

"People with no opinion fear making decisive moves, their lack of faith is worthless."

"Humph, and you are the most dangerous person on the planet, to some degree a godsend, depending on what you do with this power your father has handed you."

"I once saved you from the jaws of death, the obvious about Polaris was not..."

"I am aware of your involvement on the bridge and you are right, I had and still have no idea what happened to the Polaris plans."

"They were merely a diversion, obsolete before they went missing."

"Mmm, not to the radical religious people of the Middle East. Had they developed the plans they are mad enough to use such a weapon."

"Believe me it was all with purpose, a purpose at this time you need not know, so you think I'm mad."

"In comparison to the years of my time yes, but the world has gone mad, may take a madman to recognise the problems and act on them."

"I'm not mad, but I have become very angry."

"The words of your father, and when you pass your legacy will die with you, I will be long gone and change will again grip the planet."

"I must leave you sir."

"And may god help you, words I have said in this very room for your father, because I cannot."

"I made my presence here known to the right people."

Hollis nodded with a smile. "They fear you, and fear is all they understand, give them the reigns and the horse will bolt, you hold the horse firmly between your legs, and ride it with pride. Do you understand what I have said?"

"Yes sir I do Mr Hollis."

"Go boy, and thank you for giving me the honour of your presence."

Greywolf bowed his head, walked backwards to the wall panel and vanished.

Albert put his pipe down and folded his arms, he coughed a little, then muttered to himself. "My god, what a mess we have made, I can't say I would relish that boys job."
CHAPTER TEN

The stock market had crashed and was struggling to survive. As the news of the death of four key members controlling the stock market crept through the media, the stock market crashed beyond repair. Investors, workers, mums and dads sold the system out, it ceased to trade, the domino affect fell across the planet. The price of gold skyrocketed and real estate once neglected by investors, workers and mums and dads was turned on with interest. Remote shires populated by a few thousand found themselves inundated with activity, change began to spread. Power companies shut down, but power was still available.

Stillwell accustomed to being driven around everywhere no longer had a vehicle at his disposal, he had never had a licence or owned a vehicle, he was forced to use public transport in the heart of London. Hiding behind the collar of his coat he struggled to support himself as the bus changed direction. He expected to see anarchy but as the bus progressed life went on as usual along the streets of London, the baker still baked bread, the butcher still had meat, electrical power still lit up the shop signs and traffic lights, Stillwell was puzzled. He alighted from the bus near his destination, he checked behind and around him as he walked steadily along the pavement hugging the windows and shop front, his coat collar pulled up around his face. He sneaked carefully up an alley way to the back door of a Fleet Street law firm, whilst checking the alley with darting eyes he knocked in a set sequence. The door opened slightly, then opened just wide enough to let him in, it closed in a rapid but silent move.

Stillwell entered a room, small, a wooden table and a few chairs that didn't match. Seated at the table waiting were Miles Chesterton x CEO of the Ascot racing board, Gustav Reichmann followed Stillwell and they sat down. At the end of the table was a man that Stillwell had never seen before, greying hair full head of hair, tailored tweed suit, average build and a notably bright blue tie. Reichmann closed the door and pulled his chair up to the table beside Stillwell. Stillwell lifted his nose with a sneer. "Who is this?"

"Someone we can trust from Australia," answered Chesterton. "Ever wondered how so much information that was never shared other than by word of mouth got to Stanton and his mob of peasants."

Stillwell continued to sneer as Reichmann introduced the stranger. "Would appear John Stanton is far smarter than we have given credit, considering him irrelevant for so long is one of our downfalls. Meet Lewis Faversham, son of Bradley Faversham. These names would mean nothing to you and that is part of the problem. Lewis has been our contact in Australia for years, a stock market analyst and broker he has been ruined just as we have. His sister disappeared with Rose Blake in an Australian town south of Sydney called Bowral, Rose Blake is Winston Blake's daughter, original finder of the horse Flaxmead."

Stillwell sat back in his chair, his sneer changed to a look of deep interest. "Go on."

"Your name Stillwell has also been used in favour of Stanton's tactics over time, Bevan Stanwell was prime minister of Australia for two terms, and he was a great believer in Stanton. Clever computer software programs encrypted within systems across the globe controlled by Stanton matched your names as one, Stanton knew exactly what we were doing all the time, as many other in our organisation."

"That is preposterous," replied Stillwell. "No one could achieve such a thing."

"Then what are we doing here?" asked Faversham.

Reichmann continued. "Lewis used his sister Rose to collate information while she worked for the Australian government, she became suspicious and orchestrated her own abduction, that's when Lewis began to have problems, she vanished with vital information. She was extracted by Stanton when Flaxmead ran a race in the Texas, we believe the information she passed on to Stanton led to the current onslaught and eventual downfall of aristocracy, a hell of a lot of people have gone missing in the last two years, we can't recover."

Stillwell lifted his head waving his nose in the air as he spoke. "We have merely been dislodged from control, things have changed many times since the great depression, takes some time to adjust. We shall gain control again, we must plan infiltration of Greywolf Manor, and start with the peasant that has been relegated to supremacy, the woman Roselyn Victoria. What information did we get back from the three agents that attended the opening day?"

Reichmann shook his head and blinked profusely. "They have not returned."

Stillwell coughed nervously. "They were new people, absolutely no background to trace."

Faversham spoke. "We now believe one of them was Stanton's agent, get some kind of idea what we are dealing with. The most concerning event is the drone strikes that devastated the stock markets, a reliable source tells us the Russians lost control of their nuclear arsenal for a while recently, we know this was the only network Stanton could not take control of."

Stillwell spoke. "How the hell does he control these people and continue to gain their support."

"He doesn't control them, they are free to make their own decisions without prejudice unless they cross the line and recently the line has widened. Greywolf is not a myth, he is the son of Stanton and Fonteyn, a ruthless assassin watching over an ever growing revolution."

Stillwell butted in. "This Greywolf affliction, has everyone on edge, further fear tactics by Stanton, we take out this Roselyn Victoria, and then have Stanton assassinated. Reports have it he's holidaying in at a resort in Australia with his family, we can take out the entire family, enough of this cloak and dagger approach. We are all becoming visible to them, exactly what they are looking for."

The door opened in silence then gently closed, a stranger lent with his back to it. stocky build just above average height, a grey leather jacket, blue denim jeans and crepe soled Redwing boots, he took of his gold rim Ray Ban sunglasses and slipped them in his top jacket pocket. Reichmann rose to his feet turning round to look at the intruder. "This is a private meeting, how did you....."

The intruder pulled out a weapon from the back of his belt underneath his jacket, a silver colt peacemaker with a gold wolf emblem on the black handle. He aimed at Reichmann's chest and blew him across the table, his body hit the wall and slid down to the floor. Blood and tissue fragments spattered Stillwell's face, he went pale. The intruder looked Stillwell in the face. The room fell deadly silent, smoke from the guns muzzle lingered, it had an ominous odour. "Is that enough confirmation Stillwell, may I introduce myself," he removed his wig. "John Stanton, operative prefix, Greywolf."

Stillwell swallowed hard. "John Stanton is in Austra...."

"Reichmann was correct, you just don't listen, something we've been able to capitalise on many times."

"You just murdered a man."

"We needed you and Reichmann to find our friend over here, Lewis Faversham. Or I would have moved far earlier."

Stillwell stood up, Greywolf's gun followed the centre of his chest. "You are going to kill me, I have helped your father on several occasions."

"You are plotting to kill Roselyn Victoria Cavendish."

"I admit I was rather hasty in my resolve, how an earth could you be sure."

"This place has been bugged for years."

"You knew I was coming here."

"No, I was sitting behind you on the bus, not being able to track government vehicles has caused an unexpected problem, lack of location information."

"Why me?"

Greywolf chuckled. "You just don't get it, think you're born to reign, I was born to kill and you have lost your sovereignty. Most of the peers above you are gone, little of the old regime survives, but life goes on, apart from yours."

"You will suffer for your sins."

"We calculated how many peoples demise you were directly involved in, just because you don't pull the trigger doesn't mean our void of responsibility. We gave up at twenty thousand."

"You don't understand how to maintain order or democracy."

A shot rang out and Stillwell was thrown against the wall as his chest disintegrated. Greywolf turned the weapon on Faversham. "You maggot, trusted with the life of hundreds of our operatives, you took money from Lovington, Forbes and the Nasih brothers. A one person my father viewed as irrelevant, we now know differently do we not."

Lewis Faversham sat hands palms down at the end of the table, he looked at the muzzle of Greywolf's weapon. "I can lead you to the big guns."

"Rubbish, tell someone who cares. This weapon was made for my mother by my father, she lost it in Dubai, had I not had to step in and extradite her I would have hunted you down and killed you then. This weapon ended up in the hands of Idris Nasih, back to my mother then to me."

"I know nothing about that weapon."

"Then can you explain why your DNA was detected on the weapon, lodged in the smallest of crevices, you picked up the weapon, left in her bag at the hotel."

"That's a fine line you claim."

"I searched your home not long after Dubai, you will find my DNA on my mothers bag and personal effects found in your bedroom wardrobe."

"That was some time ago, why now."

"My father saw you as a good source of information, I see you as a person that tried to kill my mother."

"I wasn't going to kill her I wanted to go to be....." Three shots rang out and Faversham hit the back wall still seated on his chair, the bullets pulped his chest and blew away half one side of his face. Greywolf opened his weapons magazine and removed the hot spent cartridge shells, he placed them in his left pocket, reached into his right and one by one reloaded his weapon. He wiped a solitary blood spot from his face and checked his clothes for spatter, he walked into the hallway toward the front door of the Fleet Street establishment, the same door his father had used years before. He went into the office adjacent to the front door on his right. A woman, the company secretary, coward on the floor up against the far wall, her short dress had ridden up and exposed her suspenders and the fact she wore no panties. She held either side of her head with her hands wanting to shut any sound out. He walked within a few paces of her.

"You know who I am."

"She didn't look at him and whimpered. "Yes."

"You know why I'm here?"

She yelled and shook her head in rage. "Yes!"

"Then why didn't you run."

"What good would that do me?" She looked at him, tears running down her face leaving black trails of mascara. "Id live in fear, not only from you but my own."

"Mmm, pawns. If it's any solace, there are only a few kings, queens, bishops and knights left, but they will all die." She stood and adjusted her clothes, her cleavage brimmed her tight blouse, she stroked her shoulder length brown hair and pulled down her short skirt. "They made you dress like that."

"No, they liked it and so do I."

"I know how many of our agents you killed, enjoy that."

"Was my job."

As shot rang out and she was thrown against the wall, she slid down to a sitting position, her head slumped over her cleavage. Greywolf looked at her limp body, the back of her head had been blown out, this had nearly happened to his mother. "My job too." He removed the spent cartridge from the weapons chamber and replaced it, he put the weapon in a body holster beneath his grey leather jacket, he walked out onto the street and vanished.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Something hung over the head of humanity, something with more power than nuclear threats, as much as the now ostracised government bodies tried to find out just what it was, chasing leads got them nowhere. On the streets life went on as normal, money was more liberally spread, as the access to mass advertising and monopolisation waned, local networks began to function more effectively, centralised corporations lost control, they lost many whom demanded preference by lobbying government. The local butcher, baker and candlestick maker gave rise to more direct sustenance, the price of localised products fell, centralised corporate control was silenced, destroyed by its own manifestation, overheads imposed by the rich no longer required finance. The people took control, fear was turned upon those whom had used it as a tool to gain wealth under the name of democracy.

The planet was not without suffering, but far less suffered as military and corporate control was withdrawn from those whom would use it to monopolise, Greywolf became the law, and his legacy spread. Delegation by the most was not necessary, as so many had become victims, equilibrium manifested itself.

Sir Maurice Twodington lived in an environment that was about to come crashing down, corporate greed had financed his world since before his distant ancestors, he would be a breed that bore the brunt of change. Residing not far from Greywolf Manor, his world had been controlled by aristocracy, he could be told nothing and operated by making rash demands, threatening peoples livelihood and mixing with the rich and powerful. It was the morning of change.

Twodington bounced from his manor door, thumping his chest with his hands and breathing in the country air in big breaths. A red tunic, riding helmet, pantaloons and long black boots he wore a grand smile scanning the tree line of the manor grounds. "Ahh, hunt day, my favourite day of the week." He suddenly noticed no one was around, no dogs, no horses and no hunt group gathered as was usually the case. He peered up and down the manor walls, his butler approached from the left, he looked sideways at his servant and wore a sneer, he waited until he could look the man directly in the eye. With a prominent plum in mouth accent he unleashed a verbal attack on his employee. "Where is my horse, and where is the hunt group," he looked at his watch. "I purposely waited beyond time so I was not held up by stragglers."

"There is no hunt group."

"Who is responsible for this unprecedented chain of events that would lead to such infamy?"

"There is no money, you are bankrupt."

"What are you talking about man, have you lost your mind."

"Your accountant has asked for your presence for over two weeks, you didn't respond."

Twodington filled with anger. "No one demands my presence, I will attend when ready, and where is your uniform, someone sees you dressed like that I'll be a laughing stock!"

"I'm off to Broadstairs, they have asked for my assistance."

"Broadstairs how dare you, you are fired man, do you hear me sacked."

"I haven't been paid for a month."

"And I'll see to it you never are." Twodington chuckled. "The impertinence, summon security."

The man laughed. "Gone more than a week ago."

"Has the place gone mad, I must get on the phone and arrange for more staff, I'll let you stay until then?"

"Bollocks."

Twodington's eyes became the size of dinner plates. "Remove yourself from this estate or I'll call the police!" The man laughed and walked away toward the motor garage. Twodington watched him, he disappeared into one of the bays and Twodington's wife's car drove serenely out, the man waved at him and drove off. Twodington flew into a fit of rage, he fumbled to find his phone and called his wife. "Elizabeth, Miles just stole your car, he's gone mad."

"He didn't steal it Maurice, he's on his way to Broadstairs to help out."

"Have you all gone mad," he half chuckled with confidence. "When I'm finished with this you'll all know who keeps you. And you tell that grimace that owns Broadstairs should he allow you to stay there I'll ruin him."

"He's dead Maurice, has been for days, taken out by Greywolf."

"Dead," he stood in silence with a look of reality. "What an earth are you talking about?"

"Been trying to tell you for a couple of weeks Maurice, you wouldn't listen, many times I asked you to see our lawyers and accountant. Our lawyer's dead, our accountant is building something new with help from many."

"What an earth is going on, look, you come back here and I'll go and sort this out."

"Good bye Maurice," she hung up.

"Elizabeth, Elizabeth," he looked at the phones mouthpiece as he shouted. "Elizabeth!!" The call had ended, he thrust the phone in his pocket, went into the house collecting something from his study, and strode toward the garage. He got in his Rolls Royce, slammed the door spinning the rear wheels as he left heading in a fit of rage for his accountant's office not far from the estate.

He roared up to the drive of the country property, a large block on the edge of a small village, skidding to a halt outside the door. The curtains moved as a woman looked out to see who it was. "Roland, it's Maurice Twodington," she yelled.

Roland Wolverbrower entered the room, he looked over her shoulder. "Go into the sitting room, I'll see him in the study."

She turned and grabbed his shoulders. "Be careful, you have no idea what he's capable of, he's killed and got away with it."

Roland guided his wife toward the door with his hand behind her back. "Don't worry, just go into the sitting room and wait." Twodington pounded on the door, Roland waited until his wife walked down the long hall and accessed the sitting room. He opened the door and Twodington burst in. "In the study please Maurice."

Twodington invaded his space. "You're damn right you'll see me in the study," he walked into the adjacent study door just off the main entrance in the hallway followed by Roland. "What the hell is going on, has everyone gone mad?"

Roland followed him in leaving the door open, walked round Twodington and stood behind his desk facing the angry man. "Calm down Maurice."

"My sacked butler stole my wife's car and swore at me! I want the man ruined. I want my wife divorced and stripped of any peerage I have bestowed on her."

Roland drew a big breath. "You're bankrupt."

Twodington's face turned to stone, he went red, then white. "That's impossible."

Roland sat down at his desk, he turned a book towards Twodington. "No, the results of the stock market crash and fall of your corporate structure can be traced in this ledger, you have debts of over three billion pounds."

Twodington picked up the open ledger and looked at the page. He threw it against the wall. "Who is responsible for this, no wait, I hold you responsible."

"You don't listen to anyone do you Maurice, things have changed, your life at the bottom of the garden with the fairies is over, know how to buy a pint of milk from the local farmer, how to support others in the community that need help and receive help in reply."

Twodington looked round over his shoulders then at Roland, he pulled a revolver from his pocket. "Time I had a new accountant, I'll make a few calls and this will all be swept under the carpet."

"Killed before have you Maurice?"

"Yes I have, on more than one occasion, and there's nothing you can do about it."

"You're a fool Maurice, Greywolf Manor is only a few miles away, have you been living under a rock."

"Humph, I'm told Greywolf Manor will be finished in a matter of days."

"Who told you that, someone you've been paying for years to tell you what you wanted to hear."

"You impertinent scoundrel," he pointed the gun at Roland. "Another unsolved murder."

A shot rang out, and another, then another. Splinters from the antique oak desk where Roland sat flew around the room, Maurice Twodington with a look of morbid surprise fell slowly backwards, his heavy rotund frame bouncing of the floor before coming to rest void of life. Roland stood up, he placed his semi automatic pistol on the desk, his wife came to the doorway, she lifted her hands to her face with a quick inhale. "Oh my god, Roland what have you done." He comforted his wife and ushered her to the sitting room. "Roland what do we do."

"Call the police."

"They'll have you taken away, Maurice has powerful friends."

He smiled, sat her on the sofa and activated his phone. "Maurice didn't have any friends, he had accomplices, puppets, systems and enemies that tolerated his behaviour. Should they show their faces they will come under the shroud of Greywolf."

Roland's wife spoke between whimpers. "Do you think he's real?"

"If you had asked me six months ago I would have laughed at you, now I say some things we don't need to know." His phone made contact. "Police please."

CHAPTER TWELVE

Greywolf returned to the lair, he was keen to see Rose but he was stopped by Hurst in the operations room. "We have analysed the information from the two agents taken on open day."

"As we expected?"

"Apart from one thing, a bicycle pump found on one of the infiltrators push bike."

Greywolf looked interested and made a comment. "Ice gun?"

"Yes."

"Toxin."

"Looks to be concentrated Curare."

"Doesn't work in an ice gun we experimented with it."

"I'm told it must be of a species of the plant not yet documented."

"Who was the intended target?"

"We can't get that out of her."

"Her. What about our agent, he knows of the others?"

"No, he knew there may be others but was not briefed regarding identity, he was instructed to cause a diversion."

"Where is she?"

"In the dark cavern."

Wolf made his way to the dark cavern followed by Hurst with a keen strut. He turned on the light and looked through the doors spy hole, a sliding arrangement at eye level big enough to use both eyes, a woman huddled in a corner, wearing a track suit with short brown hair shielded her eyes from the sudden light. Wolf slammed the chute shut and opened the door confronting the women, the cavern was musty and clammy. "I'm agent Greywolf, who was your target." She said nothing just looked drained and scared. Wolf pulled out his gun, cocked it, pointing it at the woman's head. "You came here to kill someone who was it?"

"Please don't hurt me."

"Won't hurt just go black for a hell of a long time, who did you come here for."

"The three women."

"Names, the women have names."

"Cavendish, Fonteyn and Legrande."

"You stupid bitch, you can't leave here."

"They have my son."

Wolf hesitated. "Who has your son?"

"I don't know who they are?"

"Where did you receive your instructions and where did they take your son from."

"Will I get my son back?"

"I have no idea, how old is he?"

"Ten."

"Where, tell me where you received your instructions?"

"A coffee shop near St James Park."

"You know anything about the people who briefed you?"

"They came from Pennsylvania avenue Washington, they had ID from the IMF."

"They claimed to have taken your son or you know they have him."

"I don't know I'm just scared."

"Where did you work before they found you?"

"Talbot Street tax office London."

"Doing what?"

"Passing information to Albert Hollis."

"You're an agent."

"Yes."

"Holy shit," Wolf turned to Hurst. "Check out her entire background, find out what you can about her son, extract him no matter where he is." He turned back to her. "Why didn't you tell this man?"

She said nothing, Hurst spoke. "We checked her background, she came up on facial recognition, she has several alias's, works for the IMF, she's an assassin. You didn't trust me?" Her face turned to stone and she clung to the wall looking away.

"No I didn't trust her." Wolf pulled his weapon and gunned her down. He stormed from the cavern, Hurst followed, he yelled instructions to a young man as he passed regarding cleaning up a mess.

Wolf entered the operations room and sat down at a computer station, Hurst looked over his shoulder. "That was awful close."

Wolf punched keys, a keyboard speed of over one hundred WPM. "Yes and it's my fault, she could have been successful but I have confirmation on source."

"Should they get to the girls how would we feel, your mothers right their sitting ducks."

"They won't, now where are they sitting next, board of governors, here in London, been here for two weeks."

"Discussing the stock market crash, developing new systems, we've been monitoring outcomes, a lot of resistance from a few member governors, the banking system has collapsed."

"They shouldn't have done that."

"Going for Rose is probably just a small contingent."

"I'm not concerned with whom, they need find their own rats, the international trade conference, the brewery, Chiswell street London."

"We are way outside of reason."

Wolf turned to Hurst from the information displayed on the screen, he looked calm. "Had my mother, Rose and Louise been hit, what would you think, let alone do."

Hurst shook his head and looked down. "I would have to face your father."

"Take control of the security systems for a mile circumference round this brewery place, while I study the layout of the building, take control the all nuclear arsenals, have police conveniently tied up out of the way but within reach."

"What if they strike at us, that's going to ruffle everyone's feathers."

"We wouldn't be that lucky."

"Attempts have been made to strike this place twice in the last fortnight, we took control and stopped them."

"I read the briefs Bruce, this time let it go."

"An air force tornado can wipe the manor out."

"Imagine you're a pilot Bruce, your father and grandfather were perhaps on the ground, a ship or a plane in the world wars. Regardless of instruction would you strike a blow in the middle of Buckinghamshire bearing in mind the stigma that surrounds this place?"

"I have no idea, hasn't happened."

"But it may, close the grounds and have all staff to bunkers in a drill."

"We could be finished in less than an hour."

"Or be more powerful than you could possibly imagine."

"If we crank the new satellites they may find us."

"Henry assures us the new satellite system is undetectable and out of range."

"Currently yes."

"Everybody only has currently, were wasting time Bruce."

He nodded. "I'll get on to it."

Wolf studied the brewery building in London for half an hour, Hurst rushed back into the operations room. "Ten minutes after we gained control, three Tornados airborne from Northolt, heading our way." Wolf rushed to operations control room not far down an adjoining tunnel, he stood by the radar monitors and listened to the controller.

The controller addressed Bruce Hurst with a pale look. "Three Tornados, armed two minutes away, do we take action."

Wolf interrupted. "No, everyone in bunkers for the drill."

"Yes, the grounds are clear."

"Now you know how a war ships captain feels, when a plane enters their airspace they have two minutes to find out what it is, what its doing and take action, my father says two minutes is a long time."

The room feel silent, you could hear a pin drop other than a few blips from radar and surveillance screens, the controller spoke. "Lead aircraft has locked on to the manor."

Wolf folded his arms. "Communication between the aircraft and ground control?"

"Zero."

There was an eerie silence, Henry Dowden took of his glasses and calmly cleaned them sitting not far from the controller. "He's missed it or made a mistake, to late to engage now."

The controller verified. "Henries right, the trios turned off its targeting system and banked to the north."

"What's their heading?"

"Just strengthening up now, heading for London."

"Will their path carry them across map coordinates fifty one degrees, thirty one seconds North by, zero degrees, point o five seconds West."

The controller tracked path. "Yes, or that close to it wouldn't be funny."

"Height."

"Holding three thousand feet."

Wolf turned away and muttered to Hurst. "Search the entire complex, you will find a body, a double agent."

"I'm thinking along the same lines, you want to find who found them."

"No, people must be free to act on matters of state in a positive manner without coming under scrutiny."

"Could have been wasted to allay attention."

"I'm aware of the risks, also of the advantages. I want a strike team on the chopper pad in five minutes, six of the best available, civilian attire."

"Where you going."

Wolf smiled at Bruce. "To get a drink."

"The Brewery."

Wolf walked away. "You need not know, I don't drink, come on lets move it."

The controller stopped them. "You were right, the formation flew over the coordinates you gave me and have immediately banked round one hundred and eighty degrees and heading back to Northolt, how did you know."

Wolf kept walking as he raised his voice. "I didn't but now I do, messages are often conveyed in less than a conventional manner." He walked on with Hurst beside him. "Bruce, the six mustering on the chopper pad and they go direct to Northolt, extract the three tornado pilots and bring them here."

"You are going alone?"

Wolf was evasive. "You know the rules as well as I do Bruce, they just disregarded orders and made a statement, the system will target them, besides, we need people like that, and we need let the masses know what we're at."

"I'm none the wiser."

"You know as well as I, things are on a need to know basis and you needed to know, read your briefs." Wolf faded down a tunnel, he turned to Hurst before fading out of sight walking backward into the darkness. "Lets get to it Bruce, I want to be home for supper, Louise is doing a roast and crepe's." He vanished.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The International Trade Conference, the Brewery, Chiswell Street London, the stock market had been wiped out, banks stopped trading, the might of the planets money makers gathered in one place. The aristocratic gathering of the best money minds in the world failed to fathom why anarchy had not prevailed; life to the main went on with not so much as a hiccup in most places. Local networks sprang up, debt meant nothing as the entire western world lost the burden of autocracy. From somewhere came hope, people needed each other, a feeling the aged suggested was akin to a world war as people drew together. The puppets of the rich and powerful closed the door, they began to ask questions looking for answers that would return systems to the normality of which they were accustomed prior, to addressing the congregation on how this would be achieved. A handful of people discussed the welfare of the masses, veiled with secrecy the debate was at times heated.

Chiswell Street became quiet, traffic dropped away and eventually ceased all together. The security personnel on the door became anxious, the areas traffic lights, security cameras and systems ceased operating. The old Whitbread Brewery, now a multinational hotel had been there for hundreds of years, several renovations had sealed lower areas of the London icons ancient apparition, but some were aware of how to access these caverns, last used in the Second World War.

With voices raised and fingers pointed the room full of financial parishioners fell silent, they all looked at the door with faces etched with scorn. The head of the IMF stood and addressed the intruder. "I gave specific instructions we were not to be disturbed."

Wolf closed the door behind him and lent on it facing the gathering, a long table with about ten chairs either side, and one at each end. Dressed in grey leather jacket, blue jeans, redwing boots and gold rim ray bans he attended without disguise. "And we sha'nt be." His glasses fed information to him to the far left side of the lens, facial recognition technology beamed from satellites he knew exactly whom he was addressing.

"How did you get in here, where's security." The man left his position at the far end of the table and paced quickly toward Wolf. "I'll see to it you never work here again, call..." As he got to Wolf he looked down the barrel of a Colt Peacemaker converted to take forty four magnum rounds, he stopped, his face etched with fear.

"Graham Thimbleberry, not your real name, CEO of the IMF. Money laundering, insider trading, international corporate fraud, shall I go on."

Thimbleberry gulped, he went white. "Who are you?"

"Go and sit down Mr Thimbleberry, the line between life and death hangs in the balance for you. It's now who I am but what I say that will be of any importance to you."

Thimbleberry walked back to his seat and just before sitting spoke. "And your name is?"

"I asked you to sit down, now I'm telling you."

Thimbleberry sat but wore a look of revulsion. "I don't know if you're aware but the entire planet is in financial meltdown, we are here to discuss ways to avert total disaster."

Wolf remained at the door, steadfast and poker faced. "For whom, the few puppetering your services and you react willingly for a slice of the cake."

A Middle Eastern man stood, he was sitting next to Thimbleberry to his right, easily distinguishable by his broad Arab accent, thawb and headdress veil. "I demand you tell us who you are, upon attempting to leave this building you will be arrested, lay down your weapon and we shall put in a good word." He smiled and gestured with his hands, his fingers heavy with gold rings encrusted with jewels.

"Shut up and sit down."

The man became enraged, he pushed over his chair as he made his way toward Wolf, he shouted. "We do not take orders we give them!" From beneath his flowing robe the man produced a handgun, he raised the weapon toward Wolf and a deafening shot rang out. The man was stopped in his tracks by the force of the projectile from Wolf's weapon, he fell backwards and slid along the floor, his gun flying in the air and landing on the floor by the wall. He laid lifeless, blood polling below his body on the polished floor. The room fell deadly silent, no one moved a muscle, faces turned pale with fear.

Wolf calmly removed the spent cartridge from the chamber of his weapon, put it in his pocket and replaced the gaping hole in the chamber with a live round. He spun the chamber and held the weapon by his side. "Don't regret knowing the people that come into your life, good people give happiness, bad ones give you experience, the worst give you lessons and the best give you memories."

Thimbleberry broke the silence. "My god you just killed a man, he was the head of many corporations, willing to help out in this crisis......"

Wolf's face became etched with disapproval, he scanned the table faces through the dark lenses of his glasses, the closest to him at the opposite end of the table to Thimbleberry moved his chair slightly, uncomfortable twisting his neck to look round at Wolf. Wolf's gun was cocked and aimed at his face in a flash. The man raised his hands. "No please, I can't sit like this any longer, my neck." The man slowly moved his chair to a comfortable position and very slowly sat down.

Wolf lowered his weapon and focused. "Corporations are not concerned with the common good. They exploit, pollute, impoverish, repress, kill and lie to make money. They throw poor people out of homes, let the uninsured die, wage useless wars for profit, poison and pollute the eco system, slash social assistance programmes, gut public education, trash the global economy, plunder government treasuries. They crush all popular movements that seek justice for the working men and women, they worship money and power."

Thimbleberry looked for motive. "You're an activist, I think you fail to understand the system. We are working to alleviate and control these problems, I admit they exist." he gestured toward the gathered and forced a smile. "The American contingent here are moving to...."

Wolf stood from leaning on the door. "Today the US is number one in billionaires, number one in corporate profit, number one in CEO salaries. It's also number one in child poverty and number one in wealth irregularity in the industrial world yet you willingly offer up the perpetrators as a light for the future. This person is a magician perhaps, has changed his ways in an instant after being educated and propagated to protect your hording habits. You don't see faith healers working in hospitals for the same reason you don't see psychics winning the lottery. Poverty is not an accident, nor slavery, its man made and can be removed by the actions of people."

Thimbleberry clasped his hands together in front of him. "We realise a change is required, we can do this."

"You claim to be able to preside over a privileged time, an era of full employment, family vows, innocence and simple things in life. How we treat the venerable is how we define ourselves. I am no longer accepting the things I cannot change, I am changing the things I cannot accept. Give money to the local people and it stays in the local economy. Give money to the rich and it goes to the Cayman Islands. Corporations do not manifest cures, they propagate customers. Common sense is rare these days, it should be considered a super power." Thimbleberry occasionally looked along the fear filled eyes seated at the table without moving his head, Wolf chuckled. "No good looking to them Thimbleberry, they no longer have the power of aristocracy, you foolishly gave it to my father in your relentless fight for supremacy."

"Your father," Thimbleberry dug for information. "We know him."

"You know of him."

"And whom may...."

In a flash a shot boomed across the table and the man sitting to Thimbleberry's left flew backwards off his chair and hit the wall, blood spattered on white shirts and tailored suits, Wolf shouted down his weapon as he held it poised to strike again should it be necessary. "Look at his hands!"

Thimbleberry studied the lifeless body slumped against the wall, he looked back at Wolf. "He's armed, he had a gun in his hand."

"In cohorts with your Arab friend, sent to kill you all with back up from a few of the security staff, they have already met with an unfortunate accident."

Thimbleberry put his hands palm down on the table. "Who the hell are you?"

Wolf lowered his weapon. "Some here would be familiar with my father, John Stanton."

Thimbleberry looked puzzled. "You're a lawyer, his sons are powerful lawyers."

"They are my half brothers."

"He has no other sons."

A man in a tailored black suit, grey hair and glasses to Thimbleberry's right interrupted. "He's Greywolf, his mother is Bella Elizabeth Fonteyn, and we are all familiar with that name. I've meet John Stanton, he looks just like him and on one else could get anywhere near this place."

Thimbleberry looked concerned, he held his palms on the table. "A myth, concocted by MI6, a dead end," he shrugged his shoulders. "I don't believe it."

Wolf smiled and lent with his back to the door. "And that's why I'm here, feed information irrelevant and directional, you wouldn't know if your arsehole was on fire. You haven't been in control for sometime, have the police investigate your dead friends here, and could be most surprising." Wolf began to replace the spent cartridge in his weapon, he suddenly produced a second smaller weapon, spring loaded and hidden up his sleeve, he pointed it at the man familiar with Greywolf, he had slowly slid his hand inside his suit. "Stand up and take your jacket off." The man began to stand and as he did he kicked the chair from behind him and dived his hand inside his jacket. Wolfs Colt peacemaker again boomed across the room and the man crashed to the floor, there was silence, the muzzle smoke was all that moved in the room. Wolf scanned the eyes of the seated, they had all put their palms on the table. "A man of mathematics, yet he miscalculates the magazine capacity of a weapon by several hundred percent. He's been doing that with people's money for so long thought such calculations would work in the real world." Wolf returned the derringer to its poised position up his sleeve and reloaded his Colt, he found the door handle behind him and began to open the door.

Thimbleberry put his hands up in front of him. "What now?"

"You're all intelligent people, work it out. I don't come with just condemnation, if it was illegal or impractical to hoard money, if it was spent within communities every week, hoarded money just makes a few rich. Stop hoarding and promote spending would be a good start, I'm no financial strategist but sounds like a good start. At the moment governments borrow from the very people that hoard the money they lend."

"We have always used the trickle down effect."

Wolf looked brazen. "Really."

"The Russians and the Chinese haven't even attended this meeting, we have some serious participation problems."

"Why would they attend this meeting, the parties over, all hard work from now on?"

"The military are taking over, threatening governments, the ability to debate through duly elected criteria is falling away, and our freedom may be lost."

"The greatest threat to our planet is the belief that someone else will save it. It's all about money not freedom. Think you're free, try going somewhere without money. Reverse the hoarding culture, or perish."

"You are hardly the person I hear your father is."

"Don't get confused between my personality and my attitude, my personality is who I am, my attitude depends on who you are. Pull a gun and see the consequences, rally aptitude and reap the harvest. Sort it out or be swept aside."

Thimbleberry stood up, his palms remaining on the table. "You can't just come in here, kill, make suggestions and leave."

"I just did, yet you still use the word can't. Exactly how much education were you planning on receiving?" Wolf opened the door. "Excuse me gentleman, I have an appointment, sometimes the only choices available are bad ones, but you still have to choose." The door closed and Greywolf vanished.

The group floundered for a couple of minutes, scathed and stunned by the experience, Thimbleberry eventually opened the door to seek assistance. He was met by a contingent of police; they sealed the premises off and for over an hour interviewed the members within the conference room as forensic gathered evidence beside them. The police accompanied by MI6 advisors finally removed the bodies, conferred and confronted Thimbleberry whom was protesting about being held for so long in such appalling conditions. Chief inspector Burt Plod, from a family of carer police officers over generations scattered about the globe, stood over Thimbleberry for a final question and summing up. "So Mr Thimbleberry", can I call you Graham?"

"Yes now look I....."

"A man, apparently called Greywolf, entered the room uninvited, he produced a firearm similar to ones used by John Wayne in cowboy movies. He shot three members of your meeting, apparently sent to assassinate you. He then issued some threats and instructions, then left because he had an appointment elsewhere."

"Well yes, but that's putting a little...."

"Three members here shot, all have firearms they should not be carrying and a further member has been found with a firearm. All the firearms have been used and are missing rounds in their magazines. Can you explain that?"

"Well no, but yes, hang on...."

Plod folded his arms with a look of stern distain. "They are suspected to be the same calibre as the rounds used to kill the deceased members of your group."

Thimbleberry gestured with his hands as he spoke, holding his left arm across his chest and waving his right finger around. He shook his head. "You would know more about that than I."

Plod stood to one side allowing a person looking over his shoulder into the fray. "This is criminal psychologist Slink Watkins," he turned to him. "What's your opinion Slink?"

Slink smiled and nodded, he looked part of the meeting in his black suit and crisp white shirt. "These people are unreal, I could make a carer out of them, never heard such a story, please tell me more."

Plod turned back to Thimbleberry. "Graham Thimbleberry, you are under arrest for consorting to commit murder. You do not have to say anything but what you do say may be recorded and later used against you in a court of law." Plod gestured to waiting uniformed officers, they flanked Thimbleberry and handcuffed him, he looked pale and wilted.

"I'm innocent, this is preposterous."

"Should investigations show your innocence you will be released, but until then everyone that was in this room is under suspicion of the same thing. Take them all to Scotland Yard."

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Wolfs attendance at the IMF meeting was not without careful planning, military links within the organisation had now been illuminated for a reason. Sent to take control of the monetary system some within the military influential cooperative had preconceived ideas on if the attempt at gaining control of the floundering money system would work. Military heads now boasting more power than politicians and working autonomously were meeting at the same time, far away aboard a US aircraft carrier in the Persian Gulf. The remaining remnants of military cooperation sat in conference. Russia, China, France and the UK were absent, the delegated representatives could not be contacted and had been missing for some time, and attempts to foster replacements had been met with silence.

Quinn Packard was an x American President, he was to speak at the meeting on request of the military joint chiefs of staff. Packard had been president during the turn on the second Millennium, he went on to head the Space Alliance of United Nations, suddenly disbanded in 2003. Packard was the only insider left from the now defunct SAUN and had lived as a recluse since then. The US secretary of defence attended the meeting, both he and Packard had been kidnapped and brought to the meeting against their will, although Packard agreed to speak at the meeting it was also against his will.

The US Navy, Army and Air Force chiefs of staff made up what was left of the joint chiefs, Ward Pugsley a comparatively young five star General and recent army chief of staff chaired the meeting. Grant Shipley, an x airman controlled the US air force, he sat to the right of Pugsley, and Admiral Wayne Truman to the left of Pugsley headed up the US navy. In the confines of an air craft carrier briefing room the atmosphere was tense, attendees were huddled together, shoulders touching, some had been at loggerheads for years and the uniforms bristled with colour and egotistical enlightenment. Pugsley played with a pen, his cropped grey hair was just receding of his worried brow, and he opened the dialogue. "Gentlemen, this meeting has been called for several reasons, there are no briefing notes as intentions and outcomes must remain secretive. It is obvious some we would prefer to have attended are not present but we must progress, discuss, exchange information, find a way to make some kind of sense to what is going on." He stood up looking solemn and serious, a aroma of clashing cultures hung in the air, he looked around the table, forced a smile and continued. "I must inform you, or as I would imagine you would already know, we have lost control of our nuclear arsenal, and so has the rest of the planet."

The German representative rose to his feet, dressed in civilian clothing he interrupted, leaning on the table with his hands lurching forward with a look of fear, his English was good but his accent was obvious. "You are suggesting a rogue element has taken control of the world's nuclear arsenal."

Pugsley looked down then back up with resolve. "I'm not suggesting any such thing, I'm informing you and confirming."

The German sat down with a bump. "Mine god."

Pugsley sat down. "The entire arsenal has been disabled, no one can launch any of the weapons," the room became a buzz as people conferred. "Please gentleman," quiet again filled the air. "I heard how the hell, and indeed how the hell. We have someone here whom can spread some light on a theory we have put together. Who the hell are we dealing with and why? I would like to introduce for those whom don't know, x president of the United States and x head of the defunct Space Alliance of United Nations, Quinn Packard." Packard stood, he was seated at the other end of the long, grey, steel table. "Quinn was president during the millennium war games," Pugsley stood and walked toward Packard with his hands behind his back, along the back of the chairs on the right hand side of the conference room, about fifteen metres long just to the rear of the ships bridge. "Or were they games, the media, political power, had us fooled, did they not Quinn." He sat down nodding. "Would I be correct in saying an MI6 operative, a man named John Stanton got to something we were in fact after before we did."

Quinn raised his voice so he could be heard. "Yes, from what you have told me, makes sense."

"A weapon named ADAM, Australian Defence Armament Manufacturers. Could you brief the meeting on the biggest military blunder in history, the cancelation of the star wars programme?"

Quinn, a big man, full head of grey hair, well into his senior years, dressed in casual clothes, shorts and a short sleeved shirt again stood and spoke. "Very well, I have nothing to lose. A man called Harry Briggs, scientist, was schooled in New York, then studied nuclear science at Washington University, graduated with honours in the seventies. He worked as a graduate at Cape Kennedy space installation, then on the star wars project. A change of government saw massive cut backs and he was without a job. A friend of his was working at Island Lagoon near Woomera in South Australia; it's an American monitoring installation. He got a job there moved to Australia. He took all his work and information with him. He found a group of Australians with the same goals as he, they set up a company to develop ideas.

Together with his friend a Matt Sharp, they formed the Australian Defence Arms Manufacturers, ADAM for short, they were fifty percent partners. In negotiations with the Australian government they leased a development site at the Woomera rocket range and employed people who had great input. That was in eighties. They had some big breakthroughs, selling some of the technology as they progressed to fund operations. They launched six of the most sophisticated communication satellites orbiting earth in nineteen, they are like nothing ever produced before. The Chinese launched the first three; the last three were launched at Woomera with help from the Japanese. Those satellites control the most deadly defence system ever devised; it makes all conventional warfare obsolete. They were very careful to call it a defence system, they didn't want to draw any attention to its devastating capabilities; we weren't ready. I now know this entire operation was infiltrated by MI6 elite and funded by John Stanton.

The computer that controlled this thing is two thousand metres below the earth surface, on the outskirts of the Woomera rocket range. The excavation was disguised as a mining venture; there is an important reason it has to be so deep, to protect it from itself. You may be aware of sightings of UFOs from time to time, especially in some areas of the Northern Territory, around Wycliff Well and the Devil's Marbles in Australia. People who make the sightings say they disappear at lightning speed into the desert; they also say these things drain all electrical power from their vehicles when they approach. This is all true, do you want me to go on?" Pugsley just nodded. "They are what was called ADAM A10 defence pods. They are about the size of a semi-trailer prime mover and are spheres. They basically are two spheres, one spinning within the other at close proximity, only a few centimetres apart. They have a stationary central axis, this contains its computer and weapons system. Using mass electro magnetic energy produced by the sphere's rotation, to give you some idea, one sphere produces ten times the power of the latest base load power station every second. A gyro compass inside controls the flight path of the sphere, the energy it produces magnifies the earth's magnetic field around it; by moving the magnetic field, it can control its flight in any direction. It can travel at the speed of light and now probably beyond, but steering problems cut that to around one hundred thousand miles an hour,. The computer could think no faster than that, they are autonomous; they have no pilot, who knows what it's capable of now."

Pugsley interrupted. "Where did this technology originate?"

"How on earth did they discover all this? Had the star wars programme not been disbanded it may never have happened, Briggs went to Australia with vital technology. An engineer in Perth, Western Australia developed the computer that was used; it's very different, neuron technology, able to think for itself. Not in as much as it can make decisions on its own use, but in as much as it deciphers what information is of use to it from its satellites. It then uses that information to depict global war and defend, its use is purely military."

Pugsley again interrupted. "The media even convinced us the second millennium war was just games to test global response to an apocalypse, Stanton's access to global media was another weapon of the time. His wife, daughter of media magnet William Bradley Simpson, she was in control of the empire at the time. Another investigation dropped due to lack of funds as far as I can remember."

Quinn nodded. "You are well informed."

Pugsley tested his theory, "It's an assumption."

Quinn looked around the table. "Anyone doubt that assumption." There was silence. "Shall I go on?"

"Absolutely, we need find something, the smallest snippet of information can be invaluable."

Quinn continued. "The computer contains information on all major powers military codes and radio frequencies; it monitors them all by itself. The satellites are part of the main computer; they also have what we call neurone technology, based on the working of the human brain. The spheres were discovered by accident, Briggs had long been working on an electro magnetic bearing. This is where magnetic force is used to repel bearing surfaces, leaving a thin layer of air between them, thus no friction and no lubrication. By changing the atoms within the molecules around the bearing areas made of titanium and ceramics, with high-powered lasers, they made the breakthrough. they first tested these bearings in the lab in a small sphere about the size of a soccer ball. As soon as we spun it with electrical impulse, it flew through the wall, they never saw it again. That came to be known as ADAM A1, at the turn of the millennium they had ADAM A10, nine generations on. An A10 pod will drain any electrical power no matter how strong if the pod gets within fifteen hundred metres, at two thousand metres it has little effect, that's why its base stations so far underground. Their radio frequencies are unique to the system and remain unaffected by its own presence. That way it can operate directly over the top of itself. The pods when not in flight sit in bunkers not far from the base station, they never stop rotating, and supply power to the complex through a plugging system on their base. The pods use powerful lasers to direct enormous bolts of electro magnetic energy, they raise or lower the strike force through their own discriminating system, a battle ship receiving a far larger blow than a tank. It's simply earthing its enormous power, the results are devastating, far worse than we ever imagined. It's amazing you know that the guidance systems and weapon systems operate on simple GPS from the satellites, rather like a surveyor's electronic distance measuring equipment. One A10 can strike two hundred targets per second with a range of three thousand metres. If you ever get to see you will be dumbfounded. Do you think I'm nuts."

Pugsley was unflinching. "Go on."

"The system began to run smoothly in eighty-nine, it can be controlled by one person at the keyboard in the base station. Now comes the bad bit, we were contacted by Briggs and really interested in looking at it, we were sitting on billions of dollars, we even had a spy within the network. For some reason he was withdrawn in eighty-eight. I noticed that whenever the main players work was over, they began to disappear; now I know they were disposed of. Just prior to us actually seeing Briggs as potential buyers in late eighty-nine, he was framed for the murder of a colleague, and sentenced to life in prison."

"Stanton."

"No, Briggs still owned half of ADAM , his partner Matt Sharp gained control of the company in the courts not long after my imprisonment in nineteen-ninety. He then discovered a big problem. He was suspicious on why and who had been causing the disappearance of the crew. This is where Stanton is suspected of taking control; it must have a certain code entered every twenty-four hours or it will deny all access to the bunker. As people leave, it won't let them back in again. ADAM protected itself and Boffins within Stanton's Elite began working on the system; Briggs was led to believe he was the only one that knew the code. Sharp his colleague thought he could beat it out of Briggs. When he realised Briggs was the only one who could help him, the tables turned and he was protected. Stanton must have allowed this to be able to gather information, no one can get in the bunker without the code, or an A10 will take them out. Then along came Jason Brinkly, indirectly feed information through Stanton's network he was directed to Briggs in an Australian prison, with information no one else had and money coming out of his ears courtesy of his fathers international commercial enterprises, Brinkly, a guitar player was a perfect cover for Stanton's network. Stanton even convinced Brinkly someone was looking over his shoulder, as if he was protected and untouchable. I knew this man, he often said he felt a hand on his shoulder and he was sent people to assist him. He gained control of ADAM and it was tested in the millennium war games."

Pugsley nodded. "Mmm, all makes sense gentleman. What happened to Brinkly, if we can find him he may be of assistance?"

"I imagine Stanton has leaked information that backs up my statement for a reason, a bit you wouldn't know is that during the Space Alliance of United Nations, an A10 sphere was mounted in a space shuttle to power the unit via a system I know nothing about. It was totally controlled by Brinkley's organisation."

"And if it was controlled by Brinkly it was directed by Stanton."

"Yes, and that's what happened to Brinkly, he wanted to ride the shuttle during the test. It took of under its own power, a modified air frame no one had seen. During the test it was to accelerate to close to the speed of light, something went wrong. It reached the speed of light and vanished, data returned for a few seconds as it hurtled out into space indicated it had passed through planets and asteroids without suffering damage. For all we know it could still be out there."

"So if we can't find Brinkly, who do we look for?"

"Stanton would know I'm here."

Pugsley chuckled under his breath. "Stanton, you're slightly misinformed. He's retired, we have reason to believe his son has taken the reigns, anyone whom has dealt with him is terrified."

"His sons are lawyers."

"Not this one, does Bella Elizabeth Fonteyn ring bells for anyone, her son to Stanton."

"I was infatuated by that woman, is she still around."

"Have you heard of Roselyn Victoria Fleming or Louise Legrande?"

"Yes," Quinn looked down, "and I would probably do it again."

"We've been trying to get into the bunker at Woomera you spoke of for years, last week we succeeded, the place has been empty for a long time, cobwebs and caverns, nothing of this weapon you speak of. Moved, modified, this thing has been around and we've been had. The information Stanton threatened the powers with was indeed real, we tried to take him out many times, it wasn't the throng of agents covering his arse that protected him, it was just a cover, but something far more powerful. There is absolutely no trace of anyone that was sent to sanction him, the odd set up accident for reasons of deflective concentration. While we were sure he was human we kept trying, exactly what he wanted us to do. We are sure this thing operates from several locations but have no idea where, nuclear arsenals were decommissioned for nothing more than public safety."

"What makes you sure," asked Quinn.

"Because we can find no evidence at all that he did anything other than defend public safety."

Buck West A negro US navy admiral entered the room a approached Pugsley handing him a memo. "Sir I think you ought read this."

Pugsley read it then read aloud. "Today at an IMF meeting in London, three members of the organisation was shot dead. The reaming members of the IMF including CEO Graham Thimbleberry, have been released on bail pending further investigations into the deaths. Thimbleberry and the rest of the committee claim a man called Greywolf infiltrated the meeting killing three members of the committee, then vanished without trace. The three deceased have been linked to an assassination attempt on the rest of the contingent, entering the meeting with undetected firearms. Thimbleberry further claims demands were made by the man referred to as Greywolf to stop hoarding by of money across the board. Thimbleberry and the IMF committee are drawing up plans with limited time frames in which the public and corporations can hoard funds before having to spend within communities. The press are backing these suggestions." Pugsley looked up shaking his head with a grin. "Greywolf, we've been looking for that guy for years, seems he found us." He handed the memo back to Buck West. "Thank you."

Packard looked sideways and lifted his head. "Greywolf, a myth."

Pugsley raised his eyebrows. "The agent Greywolf has been mentioned in communication traffic from MI6 over three hundred times in the last ten years, which we know of." He shook his head and lent back in his chair. "It would appear this Greywolf is the law, I feel we will soon long for the return of John Stanton."

Buck West again spoke. "Sir we cannot trace any of the elites communication traffic, its disappeared. We have detected a new satellite system orbiting higher than the host satellites, appears to be some kind of new system we are not familiar with. We now have no idea what the elite are doing. Also sir, messages just in from fronts in Iraq and Syria, all targets have vanished, they cease to exist. I strongly suggest all three of you attend the bridge."

Pugsley threw up his hands and shook his head. "Get hold of Atlantic command, tell them we want the current status of all forces engaged in the area, get me the pentagon on the scrambler. Have choppers transfer all attendees to transport. As soon as we are done here in a few minutes we'll be on the bridge, I want a report soon as I get there."

"Yes sir." Buck West left in haste.

"Pugsley, Shipley and Truman attended the bridge, the aircraft carrier was flag ship within the group and the atmosphere was abuzz with busy people. Buck West stood over a table in the middle of the bridge, a square box rising from the floor made of steel the screen table top displayed the carriers groups location and surrounding land masses involved in the groups mission. The trio joined West and studied the screen. West handed Pugsley a paper update, he read it and frowned. "Nothing from Atlantic Command."

West replied. "No sir."

"Dam it we need authorisation."

West pointed to the land mass of Iraq on the horizontal screen, he was clear to follow his explanation with his fingers standing on the opposite side to Pugsley. "We have clear communication with all front line operations, here, here and here. Further reports match others we have had over time, no sign of any enemy."

"Have you sent that to command and the pentagon?"

"Yes sir, no response. Carbon ash and crystals, that's all that is left of the enemy."

"No instructions, no acknowledgement."

"Nothing sir, our forces can move around with not so much as small arms fire."

Pugsley folded his arms. "Then who the hell is running the show. Radar report?"

"We have suffered some interference, scratchy high magnetic energy, possibly solar flare activity. Other than that the entire area's skies are clear."

"The _Karl Vincent_?"

"Heading back to the US sir, an hour ago."

Pugsley looked horrified. "What! Why wasn't I told, who gave the order, the _Vincent_ receiving instructions and we're not."

"The group commander has taken control far as we can make out sir, the Russians, Chinese, French, British all withdrawing to home waters."

Pugsley walked to the window overlooking the flight deck, an F35 strike fighter took to the air. He stood with one hand holding his wrist behind his back, there was silence for a few seconds as Pugsley gathered his thoughts. He turned and looked at his counterparts. "Packard spoke of this ADAM weapon, back at the turn of the millennium, we recently got inside the place it was supposed to be in South Australia, was empty, stripped of whatever was there years ago. Why can we suddenly after so long walk into the place and gather intelligence?" He walked back to the table and folded his arms, he wore a frown of resolve. "Packard spoke of A10 pods, I remember reading the intelligence report on the so called millennium war games, you couldn't miss these things, the glowed blue and drained power when within a couple of miles of anything. What if Stanton got hold of all this and now has an advanced model, an A30, 40, who knows, his so called boffins could make god knows what. Packard also talked about the space shuttle, powered by one of these spheres, achieved the speed of light and never seen again. If the elite were involved in the experiment could be the reason we have magnetic interference and can see nothing, there's something up there, a weapon beyond our wildest dreams. What were the weather conditions here over the last forty eight hours?"

Buck West lent on the screen with his finger tips, his face spelt avid concentration. "Electric storms sir, haven't been able to operate in certain areas, cleared only an hour ago, ground forces were hold up as well sir."

"Two months ago in Libya, an electric storm, dust, rain, hurricane winds, the same weather."

"Yes sir, we had reports of the same carbon crystal remains, put down to powerful lighting strikes."

"Lighting strikes my arse, get all the information you can on every event similar to what we are currently experiencing." West barked requests to ratings around him and they raced off in haste. "What's the latest intelligence on allied and adversary withdrawals?"

"We believe their conduct reflects formation to counter a nuclear attack on their own countries."

"Nuclear arsenals were disabled, do we have control again."

"No sir, the planets nuclear arsenals are still under control of what we believe to be the elite."

"And we've lost our tracking ability, we have no idea what their up to."

"No sir."

Pugsley again walked to the window over looking the flight deck, he drew a big breath, turned and asked a question. "Wayne this is your carrier group, what would you do considering all we know?"

Wayne Truman looked at Grant Shipley briefly then back to Pugsley, he took of his glasses and began to clean them. "I'd assume we may suffer a nuclear strike from our own arsenal or others, Id withdraw to the coast of Washington."

Pugsley nodded. "Mmm, perfectly good assumption, our purpose is to protect the US from adversaries, military or otherwise. Sound proof friend and foe are in the process of doing just that, what if it's a diversion from the truth."

A rating handed Buck West a message, he read it as the others waited in earnest. West looked up wide eyed. "Every military situation where carbon crystals were found was accompanied by fierce storms, data from the last eight years."

"And we assume we won these encounters."

"All were successful sir, be they ours or allied sir. We cannot confirm encounters at sea are of the same circumstances being unable to retrieve evidence."

"Polaris, weapons thefts, sanctions, political puppets, insanely beautiful women, all a diversion. We've been had, this is bullshit."

Grant Shipley air chief finally decided to speak. "I would have to agree it's possible, I remember reading of carbon deposits being the only thing left after an attack during the millennium wars by this ADAM weapon. There was an operation in South America far more recently, deployed from the Falkland Islands, I read a report, a drug cartel ring was annihilated. The elite sent Stanton in with a strike force of a few operatives, along with dead bodies there were reports of a lot of carbon crystal deposits. The operation was suicide but not one of the elite was harmed."

Pugsley agreed. "You have a good memory; I recall the same reports, it's what stirred my suspicions."

Truman put his glasses back on squinting and adjusting the frame. "Why go to so much trouble to cover something that would give you ultimate power?"

Pugsley replied. "Stanton is a different person by far to this Greywolf, his son from all reports. Stanton is a military man, one of great substance and character. Stanton would only be interested in supporting the status quo within his own realm. His son it would appear is a far different person, he has no line, chances are he's the law. We're not used to being told what to do or when to do it."

Buck West interrupted. "Should we try the white house sir?"

Pugsley half smiled. "Politicians are finished, not that they had any credibility with me anyway. We need to take control, figure out what, when, where, why and who. I suggest we do what's expected as not to attract attention, pull everything in and head for Washington."

His three accomplices nodded, it was Truman that replied. "I can get on to my brother Dirk, he runs part of the CIA, he knows Stanton, may get a lead."

Pugsley showed interest. "He and Conrad Wayne."

"Yes, you know Wayne."

"Yes I do, many years back we were in the same unit."

Buck West interrupted. "Sir, we are fairly sure Dirk and Conrad along with FBI head Bret McCrea are part of the elite's network."

Pugsley looked out the window, he raised his voice and it bounced off the glass to his friends behind him. "Not such a bad thing, we need find out all we can about this Greywolf." He turned back toward his friends, leaning casually on the bridge window ledge. "Just what has the white house done about this incursion on our military dominance, we need to find out what if this ADAM weapon is real, how it works and more importantly how to gain control when we find it. We have no orders, direction or contact with our intelligence networks, we are dead in the water you might say. We return the fleet home, West, study cutting power to public and industry. If we can get commercial entities with that much influence behind us we can start to move."

Shipley interrupted. "We tried that some time ago, our biggest power provider under direction of the pentagon shut down power in fifteen states, plus areas of Europe. Power continued to flow, it was suggested these spheres similar to this ADAM weapons power supply are filling the gaps in subterranean environments all over the planet."

Pugsley shook his head. "How much more don't we know Grant, everyone back down to the conference room, get Packard to join us."

West interrupted. "Quinn Packard is unwilling to cooperate sir, he insists he leave as scheduled in fifteen minutes."

"Arrest him and bring him along."

"Packard insists that should he not leave on time, this carrier group will cease to exist and so will he sir."

Pugsley turned and looked out the window, there was silence for some seconds, he turned back and faced them. "How long before we have all our aircraft on deck."

"Another hour sir, we are experiencing a lot of magnetic interference to the point its hindering communication. The weather is turning as well sir, wild seas and heavy rain heading our way."

"I want you to target a squadron of our own aircraft, lock on and fire missiles."

West stooped forward with a look of distain. "I beg your pardon sir."

"If this weapon exists as I firmly believe it does, our missiles will be terminated."

"You're willing to gamble an entire squadron on a hunch sir."

"I've heard this before, there is a lot of difference between a gamble and a calculated risk, John Stanton's own words. In just about every publication I read by the man. When in Rome, do as the Romans."

West barked orders to staff on the bridge, Pugsley turned and studied the activity on the deck for near a minute. "The _Winston S Churchill_ has locked on sir."

Without turning round Pugsley replied with a raised voice. "Deploy."

There was a flash on the horizon as the destroyer launched its missiles, there was a second flash within a second. West looked toward Pugsley with a frown. "All missiles blew up sir, they never made a thousand feet."

"I have eyes Buck. Have all vessels fire one missile directly vertical, no target."

West shrugged his shoulders. "Sir."

"I want confirmation without any doubt."

"Yes sir." West again barked commands to the ratings, then addressed Pugsley. "All attack vessels ready sir."

"Deploy."

There was a series of flashes followed by thunderous explosions. West again looked at Pugsley, he turned from the window toward West. "Sir, all missiles failed, they all blew up sir, some only yards above the launch points."

Pugsley looked down, he drew a big breath before looking back up. "Well, how much confirmation do we need, there's something out there we don't understand. An entire carrier group rendered useless, whoever operates that weapon is the law. I believe this weapon was fostered by John Stanton, a man I once thought was mad." He turned back to the window and looked at a chopper preparing to take off, Quinn Packard looked up toward the bridge, he looked at Pugsley with anger as he climbed aboard. "We are relegated to doing their bidding, and some of them are among us. Up anchor and head for home, I want every scrap of information we can find on these people, especially this Greywolf."

West interrupted. "Sir these people are allies, they just prevented us from attacking our own."

"With the surveillance and power they have could be suicide," stated Truman.

Pugsley turned toward Truman as the chopper lifted from the deck, Packard gazed out the window toward the bridge with a determined squint as he passed. "I want to talk to this man, Greywolf, he's in charge, I just want some orders that make sense."

"We can only take orders from the white house sir."

"You have any orders from the white house Buck."

"No sir."

Pugsley looked at Truman and Shipley, he raised his eyebrows. "You?" They shook their heads. "When we get home I'll ask the president exactly why that is, a little suspicious the president should choose to remain silent at such a crucial time in history. This Greywolf may not be as mad as anticipated, the more you think outside the circle, the more possibilities." Pugsley looked at West with a wide smile. "Throw everything at tracking this Greywolf, futile I agree but I hope it works, put my name on everything, I want to talk to him."

"Our submarines are asking for directive sir."

Pugsley walked the table and studied the screen. "What have the enemy done with their subs since loosing control of the nuclear missiles?"

"China, Russian, France, UK all sent their subs out of range all over the place, concerned someone may turn their own weapons on them. The _Vincent_ has done the same sir, instructed her subs to stay in this area clear of our coast. Shall we instruct our subs to stay clear of home sir?"

Pugsley was in deep thought, he lent on the screen with his elbows studying the map readout. "Are we sure the elite took control of the nuclear arsenals?"

"We are surer of that than of this ADAM weapon."

Pugsley paced up and down beside the screen gesturing with his hands as he talked. "Why would a man with a weapon like ADAM, take control of an outdated inferior weapon system."

West shrugged his shoulders, shook his head and pouted. "I've asked myself the same question sir, makes no sense."

There was silence for a few seconds, Pugsley squinted in deep thought and concentration. "Physics, think physics, its not possible for electro magnetic energy to travel in water, would just dissipate and go to earth, no matter how powerful the just like lighting." He crossed his arms with one hand on his chin. "Nuclear torpedoes, this ADAM weapon couldn't reach one beneath the water. Nuclear missiles would be taken out just like the surface to air but nuclear torpedoes strike from beneath the water, without control of the nuclear arsenal a nuclear torpedo couldn't be stopped, what do you think Buck."

"We are dealing with military minds, a water bound nuclear strike on the coast of a land mass would be catastrophic."

"The weapon is untried but we have some, we know the Russians have them."

"Our subs have them, so do the _Vincent's_ , but we have no control over them."

"I wonder if the elites system can decipher a nuclear torpedo from a conventional weapon?"

"What are you getting at sir?"

"Instruct the _San Juan_ to launch an unarmed dud torpedo at the _Winston S Churchill_ , wont even scratch the paint but we may just find out if our theory is right."

West blinked profusely. "There's a lot of confused people out there sir."

"Yeah, I'm one of em but becoming less confused by the minute."

"We will have to answer to this when we get home sir."

"I have some questions too Buck, currently getting plenty of answers, have the _San Juan_ engage the _Winston S_."

"The elite will know of our instructions."

"Doesn't matter, it's a message not an attack, see what kind of reply we get."

The communications officer aboard the _San Juan_ turned to his captain. "Sir you're not going to believe this, we have been ordered to engage the _Winston S Churchill_ with an unarmed torpedo."

The captain lent against the lowered periscope. "Mmm, attempts to attack our own aircraft, the entire fleet launching missiles, there's somethin out there and we're looking for it. Trying to draw something out of the trenches, load tube one with a dud, starboard twenty periscope depth, target _Winston S Churchill_ and flood tube one, prepare to launch torpedo."

The San Juan weapons lieutenant called from his post. "Target locked on."

Buck West called to Pugsley. "Locked on sir."

Pugsley gazed out the window toward the _Winston S Churchill_. "Hold for a minute."

The carrier's radar officer shouted across the bridge. "Holy shit! Four unidentified submersibles approching the group, port, starboard, fore, aft sir, range three thousand yards, speed over one hundred miles an hour."

Shipley shouted from pure experience. "Status?"

"They have lock on the _San Juan_ sir."

Pugsley shouted at Buck West. "Stand the _San Juan_ down." The _San Juan_ disengaged and Pugsley shouted at the radar officer. "Where the hell are they?"

The radar officer threw his hands in the air and shook his head. "Gone sir, quick as they came."

Pugsley joined the radar officer and studied his screen. "How big were they, can we recognise them?"

"I'll run the stats through the computer sir, I got a three d, they passed right under us."

"How deep were they?"

"I got two thousand feet sir, near the bottom."

"That's impossible."

"No sir, that's how deep they were sir. I got a match from the computer sir, archive, Seadragon, automated submersible nuclear strike vessel, what the hell."

"Let me read that." Pugsley bent toward the screen and squinted as he read the lines. "Top secret CIA archive, Seadragon, American autonomous nuclear powered submarines, operational in millennium war games, disbanded after the games, infiltrated by enemy virus network. Designed and instigated by Ridge Mortimer, Senator George Mortimer's son in the late nineties. Ridge Mortimer died of a heart attack when he met Jason Brinkly of Brinkly international, guardian of the Australian defence weapon ADAM. On the death of Ridge Mortimer the entire project was cancelled, no trace of Seadragon was ever found. The Seadragon system had a cloaking device and could remain stealth at all depths, it could only be detected should it open its combat systems for engagement. No trace of the system or its hardware has ever been found to date." Pugsley looked up briefly at his counterparts. "Sound familiar." He looked back at the screen. "Hang on, associated document, FBI. Top Secret Code Red. Lance Miller and Zup, real name of secondary not known. Quinn Packard's body guards, now known to be members of the British MI6 organisation called the elite. Were also Quinn Packard's body guards post presidency. For over fourteen years agents have been sent to find Seadragon, they were hindered and confused by the Polaris investigations conducted by MI6 elite John Stanton. No agents have ever returned from intelligence gathering, investigations suspended. CIA agent John Lee was assigned to ADAM operations while Seadragon was under construction before the millennium war games. It is suspected Packard ordered John Lee to be sanctioned but he was delivered to John Stanton by elite operative Zup, an American biker. Zup, Lance Miller who has a twin brother and John Lee are suspected to be still alive and around the same age as John Stanton. These people are as dangerous as John Stanton and should not under any circumstances be approached." Pugsley stood up. "There's more here but I've heard enough, have the entire fleet under way in half an hour destination Main. When I get there all three of us will see the president, Dirk Truman and Conrad Wayne of the CIA and Bret McCrea of the FBI in that order."

"Why hasn't someone acted on this before sir," enquired West.

"Looks like people who did aren't around any more, or are they."

"Not quite sure what you mean sir."

"Neither do I, I want to meet this Greywolf." He turned to Truman head of naval operations. "I remember a Max Sivert, the captain who helped Stanton lift a terrorist out of the Middle East when he was in charge of Diego Garcia, is he still around?"

"You're memory serves you well, yes, he was promoted to naval intelligence, he works with Dirk Truman and Conrad Wayne, Bret McCrae is one of his best friends."

"Jesus Christ, well that's just swell, now we know who we're dealing with. See if you can get him to Main when we arrive, skip the president I hate bullshit. Why hasn't someone attended to the obvious?"

West looked condemning. "Decisions are delivered by politics, often involves bullshit as you have just mentioned, we need action sir and under the circumstances I suggest you take control."

Ward Pugsley walked toward the bridge exit speaking as he made haste. "Grant, Wayne come with me we need a plan, Buck get us back to the states SAP, make it Norfolk, at least we have control there to a certain degree. Get word to Sivert we want to see him there when we arrive." The three joint chiefs left the bridge, Buck West took control and looked out over the carriers deck with binoculars calling instructions to officers on the bridge. The giant ship pulled anchor and began to move.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Greywolf sat beside Rose as she rested in bed, he held her hand she had been crying. "You can get up tomorrow just like the doctor told you."

"He advised I do that John, god I called you John."

"Advised, you sound like a politician, you will stay in bed as instructed, you carry our child not just yours."

Rose slapped her hands down on the bed and looked away. "Dam it John it's bloody boring here, can't I go and let Louise cook or something."

"Yes tomorrow."

"You're always gallivanting off somewhere, your worse than your father."

Wolf chuckled under his breath. "Patience is not one of your better assets Rose."

"Your mother is taking our relationship well, unlike her."

"No, she knows more than you so understands more."

"I end up pregnant to a man less than half my age."

"Ever noticed you age as much as my father and mother, even thought you are at times under great stress, there is a good reason for that."

She looked at him with divine interest. "You're going to tell me something I need to know."

He smiled and raised his eyebrows, she took his hand. "Dad, mum, you, I, we are all part of a grand experiment. Some of dad's friends, the boffins, worked on cryogenics, molecular structure, quantum physics and much more as part of atomic research since the end of the Second World War. It was mistakes that led to our youth not success, some experiments yielded far reaching results, far beyond their intended goals. You as many of us have been given youth far beyond our expected years without knowing, I don't really understand it but it works. The long term outcomes we don't know for we are the first to be given this chance at prolonged youth, physically I am no older than you and you no older than I. The technology was destined for commercial purposes, dad didn't approve, so here we are blazing a trail into the unknown."

Rose was wide eyed. "I feel the same as when I was twenty five."

"But you're wisdom is of your real years."

"Bell, Louise, Jodi your father's wife."

"Yes, all of them."

"Are we weirdo's?"

"We are as you see us, for all people are different."

She looked at him, rather blank but yearning. "The storms, the terrible storms, lighting, thunder, wind, whenever I was in need, tell me."

"Some things you don't need to know."

She looked into space with avid concentration. "There is something there, I thought so, it watched over me I could feel it." She paused holding his hand with both of hers. "People think you're mad, you do it on purpose, just like your father."

He looked away then quickly back to her eyes. "There is a reason my father kept my eyes from you, for I have lost part of my purpose and understand some of my fathers ways now. I lost my faculties and gained my purpose, being a father is something everybody should do."

"Will you come to me tonight?"

"This room is now my room." There was a loud knock on the door, Wolf looked toward it. "Enter."

A young man stuck his head around the door. "Wolf, you need look at something, an American carrier group leaving the Persian Gulf."

"There's carrier groups moving around all over the place, most going home, what makes this one so different."

"You need come to operations immediately."

Wolf stood up. "I'll be right there."

The door closed, Rose lost grip of his hands but smiled up at him. "That lad, how old is he."

"Same age as you."

"Who is he?"

"That you need not know."

"Are you coming back shortly?"

"If I have to leave I'll let you know."

"I'll miss you terribly."

"I have been burdened with the same, things wont change, something we have to manage. Remember, you carry the next generation."

"I understand." He kissed her on the cheek and left through the wall panel.

Wolf entered the communications room beneath the manor and studied a screen over the shoulder of a young man. "What do you have that's so important?"

"Everyone is going as planned, except for one incident." The young man swivelled his chair around and looked up at Wolf.

"That is?"

"The _John F Kennedy_ , American aircraft carrier group in the Persian Gulf. The three joint chiefs of staff held a meeting on the carrier, with attendees from willing nations."

"We know that, attendance was poor, Russia, China, France the UK abstained as expected."

"Quinn Packard attended the meeting."

Wolf folded his arms. "Go on."

"After the meeting Packard left the carrier, the carrier engaged a squadron of its own aircraft with surface to air."

There was silence for a few seconds as Wolf thought deeply, it reflected in his eyes. "That's ridiculous, have they completely lost it."

"ADAM took out the missiles."

"What was the logic of its programming?"

"That's not all, the entire fleet then launched a vertical missile at the same time, no target, ADAM took them out as well."

"I haven't finished yet, nuclear sub in the fleet the _San Juan_ locked a torpedo onto guided missile frigate the _Winston S Churchill_ , ADAM responded with Seadragon to neutralise the threat. As soon as Seadragon dropped its cloak, the _San Juan_ disengaged."

Wolf gazed into space with squinting eyes and a half smile. "Who is head of the three joint chiefs?"

"Ward Pugsley, US army five star general, directives were given by Buck West fleet admiral."

"Someone on board that vessel is a very smart cookie, is the fleet still in the gulf."

"Orders were given by the joint chiefs to up anchor and head for Norfolk naval installation in the state of Virginia, they just got underway."

"Why did ADAM do that?"

"We are analysing the strategy applied, will have some answers in a few minutes."

"What route would have to be the Suez?"

"Mediterranean, Gibraltar then into the north Atlantic."

"I want on board that carrier when it passes through the Strait of Gibraltar."

"They should pass there in three days thereabouts, depends on how they go through the Suez."

"Let me know when she's twenty four hours away." Wolf began to walk off.

"What do you plan to do Wolf," asked the young man.

"Find the perpetrator and give him a job."

"What if he doesn't want one?"

"I'll cross that bridge when I come to it."

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Wolf made his way through the complex to Henry Dowden head of scientific research, his door was open and Wolf closed it behind him as he went in. Dowden was surrounded by computer screens, keyboards and an array of printed matter on his desk. Senior in appearance Dowden was far spritelier than his one hundred and thirty years. "You've come about something heavy or you would not have closed the door."

Wolf sat down next to Dowden, his throng of computer screens were along one wall and the chairs on rollers could whisk along the readouts with ease. "How long before our neuron computer system is able to influence ADAM to the point of full control."

Dowden lent back in his chair, sniffed and folded his arms. "I'm not sure it ever will."

Wolf dropped his head then looked back up. "It's your purpose to make it work, you've mentioned this many times."

"Ever since I started working on this with your father I have never worked a day in my life, it is my life, I'm determined to continue with the project."

"ADAM initiated Seadragon, someone is ............"

"I'm aware of the incident in the Persian Gulf, I sent word, indeed of concern but we have never used ADAM through the new satellites. Its never had that much control, it knows more than we do, must have done it for a reason, when I find it you'll be the first to know."

"Fighting my own is a complete waste of time, am I to presume ADAM would bite the hand that feeds it."

"We could have instigated our own computer systems long ago, your father has them set up on a completely exclusive system, and he has done for years. He is a great believer in the separation on powers, it was his initial purpose to maintain it, I believe that is the main reason he kept the digital system and initiated neuron research when he found ADAM. ADAM's neuron computer operates independently, has to or it wouldn't work. It may take weeks for the new neuron system to integrate, its taken then years of long hard work to get ADAM to interface with our neuron system. Uncharted territory is always difficult, the integration is an experiment, so far its working better than expected."

"ADAM protected the American fleet."

"Of course, it sees them as an ally. Had it done nothing I would be extremely concerned."

"The fleet could be used against us."

"The fleet is useless and whoever is on board knows that, agreed they used extreme tactics to find information but will do them no good. Military minds like your father."

Wolf exhaled heavily, stood up and walked toward the door a few paces, he turned back to Dowden. "I want to talk to Saber Legrande."

"That is impossible and you know it, I don't even know where he's held up, surely you understand the implications."

He walked back to the chair next to Dowden, he tried to lean on it but the wheels moved so he sat down and pulled himself into Dowden's space. "And what if someone else got to him?"

"Impossible, only your father knows of his location."

"Does Louise know?"

"Of course not, far as she knows he's a missing soldier, she knows nothing of his scientific background."

"It's a point of interest now ADAM has been released to operate and integrate with our systems. If someone can bring Seadragon out in the open, concerted effort may by someone as keen, find something we've' missed."

Dowden breathed heavily through his nose and squirmed around in his seat. "As much as I dislike the thought, I think you could be right." He hesitated and fiddled with a keyboard looking at a screen read out. "ADAM will not let anyone near Saber Legrande, he now holds the communication beeper your father got from Jason Brinkly."

"So it's down to how successful our neuron computer system is at integration."

"Yes."

"How long?"

Dowden pouted. "By current progress, a week or so, but its hard to say, neuron computers think for themselves based on analysis of past data. As the systems exchange data anything could happen until we complete integration."

"So how long's a piece of string."

Dowden shook his head. "ADAM's computer was built nearly two decades ago, our system is far more efficient, many times faster, as I have already mentioned. It's the failsafe features of ADAM that interested your father. You keep asking the same question and I have given you an answer."

"It's not an answer, just a prediction."

Dowden lowered his head and looked over his glasses with a glare of discontent. "A calculated risk."

Wolf raised his eyebrows and nodded. "Just focusing on the task." He looked down and got to his feet frustrated by the instability. "We need to be able to program instructions to ADAM, difficult to predict outcomes without detailed planning."

"We currently make suggestions to ADAM, not one of these suggestions has been rejected, I think we can consider that control until such time we can encrypt controlling data direct to its memory banks."

"And what if this control fails to surface?"

Dowden shook his head with vigour. "I agree the current suggestion system takes far too long, I don't believe failure will be the outcome, what's the rush."

"What if others make suggestions to ADAM."

"ADAM is isolated and in our hands has been for over a decade."

Wolf walked away and turned back to Dowden after a few steps with his hands on his hips. "We just had someone on an American carrier in the Persian Gulf initiate response, is it not possible ADAM is open to alternate suggestions based on behaviour."

Dowden hesitated; he thought a few seconds and sat up straight before answering. "ADAM was initially programmed to defuse anything that would lead to a nuclear conflict, it viewed an attack on the carrier fleets own weapons system as provocative. It would have done the same thing of any fleet or weapons system related to a nuclear arsenal."

"Is that your professional opinion or cold hard fact?"

"It is a summing up of the situation based on fact and projected opinion in answer to your question, something that under the circumstances needed to be done."

"I hope your right Dowden, we are gambling a lot on this takeover of ADAM's control systems."

"I'm surprised that you lack the opinion of your father amid such circumstances, there's a lot of difference between a gamble and a calculated risk."

"Doesn't reduce the fact that I firmly believe I have found a threat to progress no matter how small it may be."

Dowden stood and walked into Wolf's space and locked eye contact. "Agreed, and you must attend to it."

Wolf nodded, turned and walked away; he turned back after only a couple of passes. "Things are changing; I have a child on the way."

"I had children, they crossed the channel in harms way and never returned. I hope you never suffer the same experience."

A look of unwavering determination became etched into Wolf's facial expressions, a message so clear Dowden understood without hearing a word. Wolf turned and walked away.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The _John F Kennedy_ carrier group approached Gibraltar and into the narrow Gibraltar Straight, Ward Pugsley was looking over the foredeck from the bridge, he had been nervously passing the bridge floor. There was a severe electrical storm, the radar officer yelled across the bridge. "Incoming, chopper, bearing in from _HMS Rooke,_ that's the Gibraltar Rock British naval installation, ETA, two minutes."

Buck West took binoculars and studied the horizon in the direction of the naval base, he scanned the horizon several times, lowered the magnifiers and looked at Pugsley. "Nothing could fly through that, I can't even see the coast."

Prepare to welcome visitors, inform the chopper they are clear to land, pad one."

West looked at the communication officer and nodded. "Unidentified aircraft approaching the _John F Kennedy_ , identify yourself please."

West pointed over Pugsley's shoulder. "There it is sir." He raised his binoculars. "

"JFK this is Greywolf, permission to land please."

Pugsley cracked a smile and nodded, the communications officer continued. "Greywolf you are clear to land chopper pad one."

Pugsley put his hand on West's shoulder and whispered in his ear. "Bring him direct to the conference room."

"Yes sir." They left the bridge as the chopper banked to land, West caught Pugsley's attention before entering the exit door, he pointed out the window. "That's no chopper."

Pugsley squinted with puzzlement. "What the hell is that?"

"Makes no sound."

"Good god, bring him to me soon as you can."

As the craft landed the storm broke to inclemency, West stood nervously as the door of the craft opened, it looked like a chopper but had no rotors and was of a sleek wedge design. Wolf confronted West, dressed in his standard grey leather jacket, blue jeans and redwing boots. "Pardon me if I skip shaking hands."

West nodded in acknowledgement. "Welcome aboard, follow me."

"I know more about this vessel than you do, I'll find my own way to the upper deck conference room." The marines flanking West went for their weapons, there was a blinding flash as magnetic energy melted their weapons. The two marines held their hands under each arm and limped around in pain. Wolf looked through West then stepped around him walking toward the bridge.

West assisted the injured marines and shouted across the deck. "Let him through!"

A captain entered the conference room after knocking, he addressed a surprised Ward Pugsley. "Sir, two marines have been injured by a lighting strike, a subordinate has breached security and is heading this way, you want for I should take him out sir."

"No I want for you to let him in here so I can talk to him."

"Sir I suggest I remain with a loaded weapon, this man may sent to kill you sir."

Pugsley sat back in his chair. "I'm not so sure about that, why don't you ask the man himself he's standing behind you."

The captain turned and looked down the barrel of Greywolf's weapon. "Get out."

The captain turned back to Pugsley whom gestured with his finger toward the door. "You want me to wait outside sir."

Greywolf interrupted. "What part of get out didn't you understand?" he cocked his weapon.

Pugsley stood abruptly holding his hands out in front of him. "Please, I want to speak to you far greater than you wish to speak to me." He looked at the captain and smiled. "They are trained, I'm sure you understand."

Wolf gently released the hammer of his weapon. "I don't want to see you again, I just want to talk and leave." The captain stepped around Wolf and left the room closing the door gently behind him.

Pugsley sat down slowly and gestured to a seat at the table. "Please sit down."

Wolf lent on the door holding his weapon beside him. "No thanks I'll stand."

"You look very much like your father."

"The similarity ends there, you have some questions?"

"Yes Emmm, I do believe you are in control of a weapon called ADAM."

"I do believe your right."

Pugsley played with his nose and picked his teeth with his tongue. "The original idea was professed in the US."

"So was the now recently defunct banking system"

Pugsley swivelled his eyes around without moving his head looking at his two counterparts. "We are not really concerned about the banking system, we deal with US security, at the pointy end in fact."

"Your uniforms are impressive, lots of colour on the left lapel, my father has one with colour many times longer, my grandfather the same."

"So you understand."

"Yes."

"Then err, how do we get a piece of this ADAM action."

"You don't."

Pugsley fiddled with his glasses and squirmed around in his seat. "Come now, we don't want things to become confrontational."

"Why not?"

"A world war would do nothing for either of us."

"This fleet is useless and you know it."

"I could cause a lot of problems with this fleet and you know it."

Wolf took out his phone and began to press buttons. "I am going to destroy the _San Juan_ and the _Yorktown_ in less than a second."

"Wow just you hang on a minute."

"You demand a confrontational deliberation, you currently have no understanding of whom is the law."

"I am merely negotiating via democratic means."

"The system is broken it wasn't built that way. Democracy is not a spectator sport it's a participation event, if we don't participate it ceases to be a democracy. The globe has ceased to participate or they would have attended your recent meeting."

"I'm not sure I understand."

"I have shut down your network and there will be no more war."

"You shut it down with a war machine."

"It's the only thing you understand, in fact it's the only thing I understand and that gentlemen is why we're here. How far do I have to go to have you realise I am the law."

Pugsley took off his glasses and began to clean them with a napkin from the table. "We don't take to being pushed around."

"Then you and your carrier group will have to go."

Pugsley stood and put his glasses back on. "You come here and stand over us you son of a bitch."

Wayne Truman stood looking fiercely at Pugsley. "You forget this is my carrier group Wade, ground forces operations have ceased."

Shipley looked at Wolf. "I don't want any of my pilots harmed, if the outcome of this meeting was to state you hold the cards then let it be."

Pugsley looked daggers at Wolf. "Get off this ship."

Wolf nodded with a smile, opened the door and left.

"What the hell do you think your doing Wade?" asked Shipley.

Pugsley walked toward the door. "Get me to the bridge, I'll take that son of a bitch out of the air with my own hands."

"Stay where you are Wade."

Pugsley looked around, Truman had a hand gun pointed at him. "Go to hell," Pugsley left for the bridge, he stumbled a few times on stairways making haste and finally looked over the bow of the carrier from the bridge. He yelled orders to West. "Target that chopper or whatever it is."

West became concerned. "Sir I don't think that's a good idea."

Pugsley glared at West. "Are you defying my orders?"

"Yes."

"Target that UFO now," Pugsley went red with rage and yelled at the weapons coordinator. "Target that UFO or I'll have you court marshalled."

The weapons coordinator began to punch data into his keyboard. Truman and Shipley entered the bridge, Shipley held a gun on Pugsley. "Stand down!" shouted Truman, the weapons system had already began to respond.

Pugsley leaned with his back against the window, he scowled at them all. "You weak minded fools." There was a blinding flash, glass scattered around the bridge, smoke filled the air, and it took a half minute for the bridge air to clear. Thrown to the ground, stunned and coughing from the smoke the bridge occupants began to climb to their feet. Waving his hand in front of him to clear the air Truman looked around for Pugsley, he was nowhere to bee seen, he staggered to the bridge window, he noticed black carbon like crystals on the floor where Pugsley had been standing, he moved the crystals around with his shoe, they smouldered giving off a foul odour.

Truman held the hand rail and turned to the rest of the crew recovering on the bridge. "My god, West, cut power to one third ahead until we sort this out." Shipley had cut his forehead and hand, he was taken to sick bay and stitched up. Truman joined him once the bridge had been repaired and the fleet was back up to full speed. He sat down next to Shipley next to his ear. "Well Pugsley was right in a way, this Greywolf is the law."

"God damdest thing I've ever seen, took a man right out on the bridge of a carrier."

"Damaged nothing but the glass."

"Pugsley came up with a plan, we'll follow it, anger always got the better of him."

"We are contacting all the people Pugsley suggested, hopefully we can talk to them when we get home."

"I've been thinking about that, we'll have a party."

"We just lost an important man and you suggest a party."

"You remember the end of the millennium war games, Packard went to a party held for that Brinkly guy, we had to fly Packard there and back."

Truman thought for a few seconds. "Yeah, but..."

"If we hold a party the word party may attract little interest, if we hold a meeting that may be of interest."

"I don't get you."

"I've been reading the archives on this ADAM, it has a neuron computer, thinks for itself. Pugsley may have been on the right track, influence it with suggestions."

Mmmm, interesting, Fonteyn, Legrande and Rose Fleming are usually sent to parties, I would rather deal with them than that Greywolf bastard."

"I don't know the deck is stacked against us, besides' what has this Wolf guy done apart from hit the right target. If he attacked the fleet as suggested, then I may think different."

Truman looked at the floor and shook his head. "Well Pugsley was going to front an internal investigation about something when he got home, could be a bit deeper than we think, things have been upside down, hard to define trust or direction." He looked back up still shaking his head. "Pugsley was right about one thing, we need look at this a lot deeper than we have, Pugsley was taken out for a lot bigger reason than offending that Greywolf bastard."

"Mmmm, where there is a will there's a way, we may need side with this bastard until we find our feet, until then, this Greywolf is the law."
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Many years passed and the lines of wisdom became etched into the face of Greywolf, he stood in the grounds of the manor, tears crept from the corner of his eyes. A black horse, head bowed in a dull walk approached him, Wolf lent upon the wooden fence surrounding the horses range, the giant black thoroughbred gently placed his head on Wolfs shoulder and whimpered. Wolf held his head with both arms and sobbed. A few minutes passed in solitude and Wolf stroked Flaxmead's head and looked into his eyes, he whispered. "Only now do I understand your loss, for this loss is mine as well, when Storm and Meadow passed, I should have come to you, only now do I grieve along side you, I was weak when you were strong."

A silent black vehicle stopped along side them, the driver abandoned it and stood behind Wolf, Wolf could see his son in his glasses, and his son stepped forward and stood along side his father. "Is it true that my grandfather has passed?" Flaxmead muzzled Wolf's son and he in turn kissed the head of the thundering black equine. "You came to tell the horse?"

"He already knew." Greywolf stroked Flaxmead's neck.

"My mother, grandmother and Louise are devastated, yet you stand here with a horse."

Wolf looked at his son. "At your age I would not have understood, your grandfather would have wanted us to come here."

"There is much I don't know father."

"And you will need to know, your mother, grandmother and Louise were here, I linger for good reasons. Some things we can't control, my father has gone and it's up to us now. When I am down and oh my soul so weary, when troubles come and my heart burdened be, then I am still and wait here in the silence, until you come and sit awhile with me." Flaxmead again muzzled Wolf. "The words from a song, you raise me up." There was silence for some time, the oak tress rustled in the gusty wind, the grass whistled with tune, Flaxmead walked a few paces back and reared up, the cry of the banshee echoed across the meadows and the mighty horse thundered off. "The wind in the trees whistles his name, we all think about it and we feel the pain. We will hear his name in the wind forever."

They listened to the wind for some time, the smell of spring was carried on the warm breeze and they watched the mighty horse raise turf into the air as he pranced, galloped and threw himself around, screaming in defiance of loss.

Wolf lent his head on his fathers shoulder. "How did he die father?"

Greywolf held his son at arms length, a tear rand down the jowl below his sunglasses and he smiled. "How he died is not important Caen, Come with me, and I'll tell you how your grandfather lived."
