Rayna
The tour was lengthy. Colonel Garrison brought us to almost all rooms of the facility except to those parts where Mr. Windstorm’s wheelchair acted as a hindrance. By the time we finished, it was already past 1300 hours. We took our late lunch anyway with the colonel in Hextrion’s employee cafeteria, but in a VIP room away from the rest of the soldiers.
Weirdly enough, Mr. Windstorm didn’t eat. He only drank wine—the most expensive available in the facility—and nothing more. He remained silent the entire tour too, and even while we were eating. He didn’t take his hood off, and his shades were back, hiding those unnerving eyes of his to my relief.
But honestly, I didn’t understand this paraded anonymity. Why would he go through lengths just to keep his physical features safe from inquiring eyes? Why did he show those eyes to me earlier? To George and not to the rest of the Hextrion staff and to the colonel?
Earlier, the urge to learn more about him was so strong, I just had to Google him while waiting for the tour to start. To my disappointment, I found little info and scarce pictures of him on the net; all of him wearing his wheelchair, typical white robe and sunglasses. And what was available on Wikipedia showed already what I know because of the files Uncle James sent me in the email.
Full Name: Mr. Axel Claude Windstorm
Status: BachelorI almost drowned in my saliva when I read the last bit. For him to actually occupy these skyscraper buildings—and all top floors at that—made me really wonder just how loaded this man was.
No wonder my uncle said Pentagon was kneeling before him like a king. Actually, he was even richer than a king if this info about him were to be the basis. I thought Uncle James was also overreacting when he said Mr. Windstorm was the most important man on the planet. I honestly was yet to see this for myself, but judging from what I encountered so far, I was leaning into that belief too.
And to think I was in charge of him and his safety... Santa Maria.
A cold dread washed all over me as I continued to eat my late lunch. When we finished thirty minutes later, Colonel Garrison led us to the ‘Oval Room.’ This was a place intended for doing covert meetings and planning operations—or so what he said. I sat meters away from Mr. Windstorm’s left, choosing to keep my presence as minimal as possible while they started discussing his donations.
“General Foch extends his thanks to you for the generous financing of our military department, Mr. Windstorm,” Colonel Garrison stated, practically with twinkling eyes against the dim lighting of the room. “He hopes that this partnership will continue for many, many years.”
“That is always possible, colonel,” Mr. Windstorm said in a casual tone. I couldn’t see even his profile because of his hood, and I wondered if he was just being friendly with the man with his reply. “But tell me, why do you need so much weapons and heavy equipment?”
Colonel Garrison placed both hands on the steel desk and slowly whispered, “For war, Mr. Windstorm.”
War? My brows knitted hard. It is the year 2030 now, and they were still thinking of war? What sick men!
I clenched my teeth and hands out of anger. I itched to punch this man’s snickering face to oblivion, but he was my superior, so all I could do was to stay still in my chair and simmer my anger away.
I noticed Mr. Windstorm glance briefly at my direction though, showed no emotion on his face, and then returned his attention to the colonel.
But what my superior said next was not what I expected at all.
“We have compiled many reports about the existence of werewolves in this world, Mr. Windstorm. They are as what we believe them to be: powerful, cunning, and dangerous men in the form of wolves. Some stand on all fours, some on two feet. They have thick furs that no ordinary bullets can penetrate. They have fangs that can easily open a man’s gut, crush bones, and iron. They form packs, acting as lethal assassin-for-hires all over the world, and they mostly operate during the night.”
I would have called this man insane if not for the pictures on the massive screen in front of us.
There were snapshots of blurry black, brown, white, and gray figures with wolf-like heads on the evening streets, behind highrise buildings, on the roofs of houses, churches and even St. Peter’s Basilica; behind windows, inside graveyards, on top of vehicles, and some running on the mountains, fields, jumping on gorges and climbing trees.
Trees. Mountains. The words echoed inside my head.
Exactly like the ones I saw this morning. Could it be that these were werewolves? Colonel Garrison said so himself they stand on all fours or two legs.
Then I remembered the largest wolf I saw on that hill staring at me. Was that a werewolf too? Did they exist on Bolivia too?
Shit.
I shivered at the high possibility.
“We are yet to gather intel about their hideout, their true objectives, and their leader, but we believe this goes true to what mainstream media tells the public already: that it is run by an alpha king,” the colonel continued.
The screen showed what they believed was the possible leader. The alpha king.
My breath was instantly caught in my throat. Damn, it almost looked like the one I saw this morning. As a reflex, I felt for my gun behind my back and the swiss knife hidden underneath my camouflage pants. I wasn’t sure if these weapons could wound such supernatural creatures, but at least I felt safer with them.
“Are you sure these aren’t just gangs who disguise as wolves, colonel?” Mr. Windstorm, choosing to be rational, stated. “Did you capture at least one already? Ensure that you are truly fighting with a creature of the night instead of a normal human?”
He had a damn point, but instead of showing concern, Colonel Garrison only grinned some more.
“With your donations of weapons, Mr. Windstorm, we are confident we will capture more than one. And the general himself will deliver a half-human, half-wolf’s head as a gift for you. Mayhap even the alpha king’s head.”
There was a pause. Silence reigned inside the Oval Room until my temporary employer replied: “I give you all my blessings then. You have my support all the way until you win this war with the werewolves.”
Colonel Garrison neared him, grabbed his left hand and sandwiched it with his like he was holding the miraculous Pope’s hand.
“The general would be very pleased to hear this, Mr. Windstorm. Very, very pleased.”
RaynaWerewolves.In this day and age?
Rayna I wasn't really sure what happened, but I saw splinters of wood, pieces of furniture flying everywhere, a thick white smoke and what looked like a burst of...fire? I was certain it was fire.
RaynaLet this be a dream. Please?I chanted at the back of my head when I realized I couldn't turn back time. My erotic voice had left my mouth, and Mr. Windstorm definitely heard it.
Rayna"You didn't need to take his words literally, Ms. Chase. Come here and sleep," Mr. Windstorm said while gesturing to a very spacious side of his bed. His back was propped with pillows and thank god he used a bedsheet to cover some of his skin. The way he looked in that bed burned my eyes though.His silver hair was beautiful; cascading down his shoulder and pillows with a soft shi
RaynaI was able to sleep properly despite the fact that I was sharing a bedroom with a man. All I had were good dreams, the kind where a person finishes an excellent read and got to dream those scenes in their head—may it be erotic, adventure, or otherwise.
RaynaRiding a humvee wasn’t new to me, but it probably was for Mr. Windstorm. He might have preferred using that flashy limousine of his, but it was a shame he didn’t bring one here.We sat next to each other at the back portion of the vehicle as it maneuvered its way onto the forest floor. The transport team in Hextrion clearly unbolted the metal benches to accommodate my employer and his one-of-a-kind chair. Since there were no straps available, I had to secure him by holding o
RaynaThere were two things that immediately registered in mind when he said those words.Super smell and bossy.I wasn't innocent. I noticed what he did there sniffing me and all and it was weird. So weird. Because of this, I found myself believing my theory again.He could possibly be a werewolf and a spy. A CEO spy. Made my superiors think he was donating weapons when in reality he was just gathering intel.But then again. I could be wrong, and this made me realize I needed to do some digging of my own regarding this man. He really was a mystery, and most likely possessed a treasure trove of secrets if his sense of dressing was an indication.One thing was certain for me, though. He was bossy.Aside from the fact that he did that weird act on me, his tone was full of command. For a man of his stature, it was a given. Issuing orders was what embodied a CEO, after all. I definitely wasn't leaning on the
AxelLieutenant Rayna Chase. Or simply Rayna Chase.Her name echoed in my head repeatedly after I read her impressive biography and credentials neatly prepared inside a folder. My secretary, Mrs. Mayfield, compiled all of this when I asked her to do so the moment I heard this name mentioned by the general. She also attached a black and white wallet-sized picture of her in military uniform, and since then, I kept staring at this picture. I couldn't quite describe it, but there was something about this woman I simply couldn't resist.Maybe it was the way she confidently looked at the camera when this picture was taken. Her beautiful eyes seemed to look straight to me as if she already chained my soul.Or maybe it was the unhindered view of her neck. She had her hair done in a bun exactly like those military women would, showing the slenderness of her neck with which I craved to mark.Or maybe it was her ov