"Get him and get out."
The connection cuts. Ghost glances at me, then Sherlock, who's still studying the fountain with unnerving intensity.
"That monster had you dead to rights." Sherlock says, not looking up from his examination. "How the hell did you move that fast?"
I keep my expression neutral, my heartbeat carefully steady. "Good timing."
"Hmm." The sound is noncommittal, but I know better. He's adding it to his list.
The weight of failure crushes against my chest. I've spent half my life hunting these creatures, and they slipped through my fingers like water and my teammate is still stacking points against me every chance he gets.
"We should check on Rossi," Ghost interrupts, one hand pressed to his ribs where the chimera struck him. "Then get to the extraction point."
Back inside, the panic room door has held—barely. The reinforced steel is warped and dented, the frame half-torn from the wall, but it remained intact. The rest of the room boasts nothing more than splintered furniture. My father's study looked like this—ransacked, violated, stained with his blood. But unlike Rossi, Dad had no panic room to retreat to, no reinforced door between him and those double fangs.
When we identify ourselves, Rossi unlocks it from inside, his face ashen but clearly relieved.
"Knew they'd come eventually when I heard about the others," he says, voice steady despite everything. "I’ve contained a lot of shit over the years, but those were something else entirely."
“No fucking shit. Bullets bounced off their hides like beanbags,” Sherlock growls out.
"We need to move," I say, scanning the destruction one last time and committing every detail to memory. The chimeras will surface again, and when they do, I'll be ready. "Extraction team is waiting."
We head outside and climb into the unmarked van just outside the apartment. For the first time in hours I take a full breath, adrenaline ebbing to leave behind the dull ache of bruised ribs and the sharper pain of failure. The chimeras, the same creatures that killed my father, had been within my grasp, and I'd lost them.
As the extraction team navigates through Rome's streets toward our safe house, I check my phone. No messages from Sanderson about my mother, which should be reassuring. No news is good news, right?
But the security footage from Missouri plays on repeat in my mind. The massive wolf. The partially devoured bear. The torn-out throat that looked eerily similar to these chimeras' work. Two deadly creatures on opposite sides of the ocean, both connected to me somehow. That can't be a coincidence.
"Anything on Team Echo's progress with the Missouri creature?" I ask Sherlock, keeping my voice casual despite the knot tightening in my chest.
He scrolls through his tablet. "Last update shows they're still tracking it. No containment yet."
I turn to stare out the window, hiding my expression from his too-observant eyes. First, I'll finish this mission and get the chimeras. Then I'm getting home to make sure my mother is safe from whatever's lurking in those Missouri woods and God help Team Echo if they've screwed this up.
Episode 4
CHAPTER 10
Loopholes And Loyalty
* * *
Astrid Mathieson
The conference room feels too small, too sterile, too far from where I need to be. Hayes stands at the front, droning on about the chimeras—unprecedented danger, major threat, highest priority—while I scroll through the Missouri wolf shifter reports on my tablet beneath the table. The images from the Branson forest flash across my screen. Massive paw prints. The bear carcass. Blurry figures running toward water. Sanderson's hourly check-in text buzzes on my wrist and I peek at it. Same as the rest, confirming nothing unusual near Mom's house.
Except the wolf was spotted less than fifty miles from her house.
"Mathieson." Hayes' sharp tone snaps me back to the debriefing. "Care to share your analysis of the chimeras' communication patterns with the rest of us?"
I lock my tablet and straighten in my chair. "Complex vocalizations incorporating elements from all three creature aspects. They coordinated tactically, sir. These weren't mindless beasts—they had a plan and executed it with precision."
Hayes nods, seemingly satisfied with my response despite my divided attention. Ghost shoots me a knowing look from across the table. He's been watching me obsess over the Missouri reports since we landed. Sherlock's gaze, however, doesn’t even spare me a glance. Strange.
"The chimeras represent a dangerous magickal beast we haven't ever encountered before," Hayes continues, pointing to the footage from Rossi's apartment. "Bullet-resistant hides, coordinated attacks, and apparent use of water as some form of transportation. They are now GUIDE's number one priority globally. Your team is permanently attached to this case until they are killed or captured."
"Sir," I interject, unable to help myself. "What about the wolf shifter situation in the Midwest? Team Echo has failed to contain it in three different states now."
