#Chapter 181 – From the Sky

Victor leads his forces on foot, but overhead, his aerial forces begin their attack. They swoop low overhead, the chopping of helicopter blades and the hum of small-aircraft engines covering the pounding of feet as Victor’s ground forces plunge ahead.

He watches the skies carefully as his troops pick up speed, wanting to ensure that his aerial forces are following their instructions precisely.

Victor knows, from his reconnaissance, that Walsh and Willard have no aerial forces of their own – in the trade for Evelyn, Victor had traded Willard only ground troops, no special forces.

It’s a significant advantage that Victor has, even with his lesser numbers. His enemies are largely on foot and the majority of them are massed ahead, waiting for Victor’s ground forces to reach them.

The enemy forces have an advantage there too, though – they make no move as Victor’s forces come forward, willing to hold their position close to the barracks so that Victor’s forces can exhaust themselves on the assault, and so that they have a convenient wall to retreat

But, until that clash can happen, Victors helicopters and planes have the opportunity to do their damage.

They swoop ahead, almost completely unimpeded except for some gunfire from below, which does nothing to stop them. When they reach the back of the barracks, the helicopters begin to drop bombs. Victor watches them fall through the air like tiny black seeds that fall from the heavens and then bloom into flames below.

He grimaces a little, knowing that death comes with each bomb, hating it. He regrets every death that comes at his hand, especially since he knows that men that he trained, his own former Betas, might be catching the brunt of it.

But the bombs that he ordered to be dropped – they’re strategically placed to take out areas of Walsh’s encampment that his spies had already marked as weapons caches, as offices and supply centers. Victor seeks, as much as he can, to spare lives and instead cripple Walsh’s forces.

This is, after all, an attempted takeover. Victor seeks to take this pack as his own, for his children as well as the good of all of the packs in their political circle. Walsh and Willard are to greedy – seeking power for their own good.

If he wins, Victor hopes – truthfully – to bring peace to his people. To build resources like the school to help them grow and prosper. Not simply to build his own coffers.

After the helicopters swoop away, their damage done, the small-engine planes come in quick behind them. Victor smirks here, excited to see this next weapon at work.

His Betas had questioned him at first, when he had ordered – months ago – the purchase of about a dozen small aircraft usually used for farm work, for the survey of fields and crop dusting. But when they’d heard his plan, they’d eagerly agreed and got to work on the mechanics of Victor’s new weapon.

Just as the planes swoop past the first line Victor skids to a stop, holding up one hand and shouting “HOLD!” at the top of his voice.

to one knee, turning their backs towards the enemy forces, crouching forward and pulling hoods over their heads,

just as he sees the aircrafts open their bellies, dropping gallons and gallons of liquid wolfsbane onto the enemy forces. He has to turn his face away, to breathe into the apparatus built

has worked when he hears the combined shrieking of hundreds of enemy Betas, who have fallen, incapacitated by their pain, to

told him that he needed two minutes to ensure that the air would be safe to breathe, so Victor

intense minutes of his life as he waits for the seconds to

battlefield, his back turned to his enemy, completely blind – completely vulnerable, really, to whatever weapon they may have up their own

wolfsbane clears from the air, that Walsh and

really, to let Walsh and

happen in

could come, strike him between his shoulders

– Victor could open his eyes to see

turn to see some insane weapon pointed right at him, the

on his oxygen unit letting him know that there’s

men have carried precisely two minutes worth of oxygen with them. When the tiny tanks run out – just twenty seconds from now – they will turn, as one, to meet

races, filled with

Ten seconds now.

Five.

the alarm beeps, Victor rips the mask from his face and from his body armor, dropping it to the ground and turning, in one swift

in the bowls of the big house, Evelyn sits stock straight on the her little prison bench, hearing the pounding of Beta feet coming into the

heartrate ratcheting up, as they storm towards

the lead twists the key in the ancient lock and then comes

where they intend to take her – no idea if it’s where she wants to go – but instinctually, she knows she doesn’t want to

on the Beta’s chest, refusing to be taken without a fight. “Take your

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