Guest Starring:


Summary: Ezekiel foils another potential massacre.

Date It Happened: January 23rd 2002


Griffith Park

Most people tend to find stake outs pretty boring, and generally somewhat less than fun. Ezekiel, has never been accused of being most people though if only because ninjas arent most anything except mostly awesome. So EZ stood silent as the shadows he dressed himself in ever so comfortably, being silently irradiated by the tritium in the optics he carried. No binoculars mind you, but both the UMP-45 and the M1911 he carried used the stuff to illuminate their sights for proper night time accuracy. His swords were, of course no longer present and his Noh mask had taken the night off earlier as well. This was something closer to a SWAT officer, complete with a balaclava and gas mask built to vulpine specifications.

Four hours in, and he'd only blinked as he watched. This was no small affair mind you, this was a full matter of honor and reputation now. He'd promised to do Hannah's will when possible, and in this endeavor her desires were as clear as crystal to at least Zeke. Now all he could do is watch, watch and wait. Patience and observance would win this war, or so he thought.

Normally, werewolves are not subtle beasts. Tracking one is like tracking a herd of elephants through a China shop. Tonight, however, there is at least one werewolf who knows better. After leaving a little gift at the border of the park, said werewolf has slipped deeper into the pack territory on paws silent as the moonlight that affords him such a change. He's a clever one: careful to keep downwind of any obvious patrols and skirt around anyone he can detect in order to reach one of the obscured cages within the caves. There's no guard, but the electronic lock will prove difficult. The werewolf caged within leaps at the bars and begins sending up a racket until it's hushed by a domineering growl and posturing from the larger beast. Then, said larger beast begins trying to work the lock.

There is no safety click, no extra slam of the bolt to announce Ezekiel's intentions. Instead he just pins the handguard of his UMP to the tree he stood beside to steady it, letting the dull red dot hover over the offending werewolf. He gently exhales, tightening his grip as he delicately works the trigger inward. Like glass breaking, he told himself.

Its a funny thing really, .45acp when run through a silencer is really perhaps the most silent tactical round in existance largely because it never breaks the sound barrier so theres never any sonic crack. Theres no sniper fire here, as the gun erupts in silence. Theres no single sniper's bullet, no theres a stream of 25 rounds sent at the marauder in a single continous stream. Each round a silver core, wrapped in a thin brass jacket to retain the proper accuracy needed to hit the fucker in the first place. Immediately, Ezekiel's support hand moves from the tree to reach back for the now empty magazine.

There's no sound to tip off the wolf — but the one that he is trying to free catches sight of the red dot, and he catches sight of the other wolf's eyes. In a flash, he attempts to vault himself over the cage's roof, but he isn't fast enough. There's a dull, muffled cry of pain as several bullets bury themselves in his hip and leg, and several more screams of panic and pain as the wolf in the cage takes still more bullets in the shoulder, chest, and torso. The larger of the pair manages to make it over the cage and disappears out of sight deeper into the recesses of the cave while the one left behind collapses to the floor with a shriek.

Ezekiel steps from the shadows as he casually exchanges magazines, letting the bolt clack shut before stuffing the emptied magazine into a dump pouch. A more experienced shooter, would have been more cautious but thats the problem with sending fox kits to slay a wolf. They tend to make a mess of things. "Brilliant."he whispers, watching the night for a moment before heading towards the cage where the wolf lies."Hey there pal, why dont you let me have a look at that?"His tone is soft, polite even.

The caged werewolf snarls and scrambles forward to lunge at the bars again. Pissed off and in pain, it's not in the best state of mind to be letting anyone take a look at anything.

From deeper within the cave shoots forth another large hairy beast, this one heading directly for Ezekiel — and uncaged. Its intention is not to attack, but to surprise and flee. He's injured, and it's silver. He's in no state to be attacking anyone.

Ezekiel turns on a heel, and he doesnt flee. Theres no obvious signs of fear, no clear indication of any nervousness at all as he opens fire. Working the trigger far more gently this time, to throw a series of short bursts at the offending wolf, with particular attention paid to his upper chest and neck. Granted, theres not alot of time to aim but as the saying goes. Aim small, miss small.

And once again there's a pained scream and a spray of blood, but the thing does not stop. He jettisons past Ezekiel and rushes off into the brush, limping heavily on his leg. This is not how he had planned his night to go. Clearly Hannah's pack is playing dirty. In his wake, he leaves a trail of blood, and though fast, he's not as fast as he was last night for obvious reasons.

Ezekiel peers between the injured werewolf, and the caged one. Its a difficult decision, but after he reloads he turns back to approach the cage. Lifting a glove he presses two simple rubber plugs, sealing his mask with a soft hiss of filtered air. "Now your not going to appreciate this very much in the short term mind you."He plucked a grenade from a pouch, one painted in a dull grey and striped in yellow. It was knock out gas, he'd never tried it on a wolf but he'd at least give it a try before attempting field medicine. So he jerks the pin, and lets the billard ball sized grenade fall at his feet.

The caged wolf lunges at the bars again with a ferocious snarl, doing its level best to get at Ezekiel through the cage. It doesn't even appear to notice the grenade until … well, until it starts to kick in. The snarling ebbs, the wolf's resolve starts to wane, and it finally quietly eases onto its backside, then its side as the gas dulls its senses.

Ezekiel checks his watch, waiting a moment or two before he proceeds fourth. It isnt until he gets his lockpick kit out, that he realizes how badly his fingers are trembling. A moment is wasted, before his hands steady and he can quickly jimmy the lock as if he had a key. That done, he slips inside with a lick of his teeth. Carefully he treads closer, pushing on the wolf some from behind before he hazards on rolling him over.

The wolf does nothing but emit a low muffled growl when the murky shape of Ezekiel approaches. The growl grows only slightly louder when it's nudged and then rolled over. Otherwise, the wolf is too drugged to react. The bullet holes are very easy to spot. There's plenty of blood leaking from them, staining its chest, shoulder, and stomach. In all, there are five.

Ezekiel frowns, but with .45 theres not an exceptional amount of penetration to be found on such a heavily muscled target. He produces a pair of forceps from a kit originally intended to disable security systems, and without pause begins his work with only the forceps and a small flashlight. Trying to jerk the rounds free, before the wolf awoke or perhaps almost worse if Hannah discovered him.

The growl rises and falls with each poke of the forceps, but again, the wolf is otherwise unresponsive. As the makeshift operation continues, however, it is apparent that the wolf is starting to regain some sense of awareness. Its eyes grow a little less glassy, its tongue not as lolling, its breathing not as heavy. Grrrrrr.

Ezekiel frowns, but he isnt going to stop now. "Just relax buddy, I'm almost done."His gaze fixed on the work at hand, unconcerned with the fact that he may be a touch rougher now. The wounds or so he's confident, will easily heal up no matter his own butchery as long as he gets them out. So at least until its clear he cant continue, he wont stop. He was doubting the wisdom of closing the gate behind him however.

The wolf's eyes remain a little cloudy and its lips twitch upward away from its teeth. The growl is growing less and less muffled and more and more enraged, but it still is not making a move to rise. Ezekiel has one final bullet to get, and it's in the thing's stomach. If he's quick, he might get it before the wolf really wakes up.

Ezekiel licks his lips, leave the fucker gutshot and abandon his responsibility or run like a coward? Its safe to say he never stops to think it over, moving immediately to work on the wolf's stomach. He was already ready to forgo even trying the lock, who knows maybe he could make nice like the other wolves. Shy of that he was doomed to spending the day on four paws.

Unfortunately, this wolf is caged for a reason: he doesn't respond too well to things that could be turned into food. Just as Ezekiel manages to dig out the final bullet, the wolf raises its head and fixes its gaze on him — a very, very hungry gaze. The growl rises in its throat until it's a bellowing roar and the thing scrambles to rise to all fours.

Ezekiel scampers back with a low growl of his own, lifting a gloved hand skyward as he drops the forceps and that last bullet. That mask doesnt come free easily, but he's hopeful it'll at least grant him some measure of understanding. His features of course, are at least vaguely wolfen. His vulpine features are darkly furred, and immaculately groomed to boot. Big bright eyes a shade or two below a fresh tangerine, his gaze at least is confident.

While Ezekiel is not that much smaller than the wolf, he is also a separate entity and a meat-bearing creature, wolfen or no. He doesn't have the added bonus of being domineering like Hannah or the larger wolf that just fled minutes ago. And thus the werewolf hesitates only a couple moments before it springs directly at Ezekiel, claws and teeth bared.

Ezekiel its time for fox survival strategy number two, run the fuck away. He doesnt try to pick the lock, rather as he dodges to the side and presses to the bars his clothes simply fall to the ground in a heap by the bars. On the other side, is a black and silver trimmed fox looking none too pleased with this current turn of events. "This is incredibly inconvient you understand?"Comes a plain voice, though clearly his mouth doesnt move. Turning to look back at the wold, as he ponders pulling his things through the bars.

The wolf does not seem to understand nor care. All it sees is Fox. Fox = To Eat. So it continues to lunge at the bars with snarls of rage and desperation. Come back in here! I'm not finished with you!

Ezekiel sighs, his ears splaying to either side and tail falling. Then he trots off ever so quietly, he'd have to go find somone who was in greater control of their instincts and try to barter for their aid in retrieving his equipment. Hannah perhaps, he'd cleaned up his mess at least by now.

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