The Alpha Mafia King
Chapter 64

Agent Fox, Laslow, and Antonio were getting ready for the hunt. They were gathered in one of the rooms in the secret location where they resided with the Alpha, Callisto.

Antonio preferred to carry a crossbow pistol and some couple of arrows whose heads had been forged using wolfsbane. Laslow took a Glock, loaded with wolfsbane bullets. Agent Fox did not need a weapon, or so he had been told.

“Alright, Fox, listen up,” Laslow began as he tucked his gun into the holster strapped to his shoulder. “We are going to hunt the enemy pack. Our goal is to incapacitate them for you to make the kill so you can receive their power. Do you understand?”

“Yes, I do,” replied Agent Fox.

“Alright,” Laslow said. “Anthony, shall we?”

Antonio did not bother answering, for he did not like Laslow. The only reason he was rolling with him now was that his father strictly commanded them to get along for this mission, just like in old times.

Agent Fox eyed the two men carrying weapons as they went along the narrow hallway together, and he felt a rush of adrenaline from what he and Antonio had secretly planned for the night. There would be a twist of events.

As for how he would claim the power of the enemy werewolves, from what Antonio had explained, all he had to do was use his claws to kill the enemy werewolf, thereby absorbing the power of the dead werewolf.

As they went outside, Antonio heard his father call him telepathically. So he branched out from the group to where his father was resting, knocking before opening the door and letting himself inside.

“Father, what is it?” Antonio said, his voice void of emotions.

“I need you to help me go to this address and ask of this person,” Callisto said, handing out a piece of paper on which he had penned down the address and the individual’s name.

“Who’s the person?”

“She is the healer I showed you during the King’s summon.”

“But what about the hunt?”

“I’m sure Laslow and Fox can manage.”

“But-“

“The healer is more important.” Callisto started to cough uncontrollably, which startled Antonio into taking a reflex step forward toward his father.

“Father, are you alright?” he asked, void of panic in his voice.

Callisto controlled himself from coughing before saying, “They will manage on their own, locate the healer and bring me the medicine.”

“Alright, father.”

Callisto had been sick, and Antonio had known that for some time. He had waited years for the sickness to take its toll on his father, but the man was healthier than he had wished for him to be.

Outside, Antonio found Agent Fox and Laslow waiting for him in the car. He approached them so he could inform them of the changes.

“A different mission?” Agent Fox asked, sounding alarmed. He suddenly felt uneasy that Antonio was leaving him. He would much rather have preferred to be alone with him than with Laslow.

“Yes,” Antonio answered.

“Well, can I have your crossbow then?”

“You don’t need it,” Laslow said.

“Do you know how to use a crossbow?” Antonio asked, removing it from himself. “I won’t be needing this where I’m going.”

“Thanks,” Agent Fox said, receiving the crossbow. He had had a few experiences with the weapon.

Antonio scoffed and said, “Good luck.”

Antonio got into his father’s car and waited for Laslow to drive out first. As he began navigating to the address his father had given him, he pulled over a few distances to reconsider.

He had done this numerous times, pausing on a journey to help his father. He was used to contemplating if helping his father recover was the right thing to do. His father was getting weaker, and tonight, that terrible cough had seemed like a sign.

“What if I go back and end all this?” Antonio wondered. Then his mind flashed back to when his father had single-handedly taken out four enemy werewolves that had attacked them in the woods when he was a boy. The battle was over even before he could open his eyes.

That scene had been stuck indelibly in his head, and he had grown up constantly recalling that moment whenever he felt like going up against his father. The strength of an alpha he could testify from what he had seen his father do in the past was incredibly high.

Overcome by a great sense of fear in his incapacity to engage in a physical battle with his father, Antonio put the vehicle in motion. He drove through the streets with lit natural and artificial lights.

Antonio couldn’t go after his father, but he hoped by the end of the night, his other plan would help level the playing field. He hoped Agent Fox would be able to pull through.

Laslow and Agent Fox patiently waited for Vincenzo and Jerald to come out of the Casino before they started tailing them. They had been observing the men for a long time, and they knew their movements now.

“We are being followed,” Jerald said, and Vincenzo nodded, looking at the black car behind them through the side mirror.

“Yes, but why are they following us? Who are they? They’ve been observing us for days, but they’ve never followed us.”

“They could be people from the Makarov family,” Vincenzo said.

“Or maybe some detectives,” Jerald followed.

“Right, so at the very least, we should be expecting trouble. Let’s lead them somewhere less crowded and see what they want.”

Laslow kept his distance and tried not to get too close to the car ahead. He took every bend the car made until they got somewhere he could attack. As if Agent Fox had read his mind, he saw the man point the crossbow at the vehicle. He released the arrow, which punctured the back tire and made the car spiral out of control.

Jerald was the first to get out of the car, and immediately, Agent Fox shot another arrow in his direction, which he caught before it could hit him. He was surprised when he realized who the shooter was.

“Fox?” Jerald said, his voice not betraying his emotion. “Oh, you are a dead man. You smell so differently, and who’s your buddy in the driver seat?”

Jerald made the mistake of taking a step forward, and Laslow shot him in his kneecap. He expected to heal, and when he didn’t, he realized he had been hit with a wolf’s bane-coated bullet.

“Vincenzo, run!” he said. “They’ve got wolfsbane.”

Vincenzo watched them shoot bullets and arrows at Jerald, who acted as a shield for him to make a run. He watched in astonishment as Agent Fox went to the falling capo and brought claws in place of his finger to end Jerald. Fox gave him a menacing stare, pointing his crossbow at him, and Jerald got away while he still could.

He shouldn’t have had to run, but the enemy had wolf’s bane, which was a disadvantage if he had decided otherwise. He had heard Jerald call out to Agent Fox, and he had seen the man steal Jerald’s powers, and he wondered how and when Agent Fox had become a werewolf.

“Who was in the driver’s seat that was shooting the gun?” Vincenzo continued to think as he ran.

“Good job!” Laslow said, stepping out of the vehicle.

Agent Fox was standing over the dead body of Jerald. He had slashed the man’s throat with his claws ending his suffering and pain without mercy. He felt powerful as life slipped away from the werewolf.

As Jerald approached him, Agent Fox turned slowly, pointing the crossbow at him, and he shot the arrow at him, hitting the man’s chest. Laslow clutched the arrow in his hand in surprise and pulled it out.

“You are mistaken, boy,” he said. “One of those wouldn’t be enough to stop me.”

“I figured you’d brag,” Agent Fox said,

tossing the crossbow on the floor and bringing out the gun he had been concealing. He took a direct aim at Laslow’s head, and he fell to the ground.

Agent Fox looked around nervously and then stole the car they had come in. He called Antonio feeling excited and worried at the same time. It was Antonio that had given him the gun. He had planned to help him escape tonight and make it look like he did it alone.

“I take it that you were successful,” Antonio said.

“Yes, but one of the werewolves escaped,” Agent Fox replied. “For a minute, when you got sidelined for a different mission, I thought your father might have been on to our plan.”

“That was not the case,” Antonio said. “You have to disappear for good. You will have to live as a rogue werewolf for now until my father has been defeated. After which, you can rejoin the pack under my rulership.”

“Thank you, Antonio,” Agent Fox said, inhaling a refreshing breath of freedom. He drove so fast as if the ghost of the men he had just killed were pursuing him.

He was done with Callisto, Mariyanna, Alonzo, and Alyona. He was going to do as he was told, disappear and not look back. He said a silent prayer for Antonio.

Nobody deserved to live with a monster such as Callisto. The one week he had spent living with Callisto would be the worst in his life.