The atmosphere in Kael's quarters was a contrast to the silent, digital war being waged in the command center. The air here was still, the only light coming from a single data slate displaying the email that had stopped his blood cold. Argent Factor. The name was a death sentence with a pretty name. A human brain, genius and tenacious, was closing in on their most holy of secrets, and no level of digital disguise could stop a scientist who was determined in a lab.
They had reached the limit of lone wolfing. The problem had grown too big, the enemy—both the virus and the growing threat of discovery—too pervasive. The pack's resources, both in number and in purely human-focused skill sets, were stretched to the limit. They needed allies. Not other packs—the Grey Council's neutrality and the
