Breaking The Alpha Protocol: Wolf in a Three Piece Suit

​The rain in Obsidian Cove didn’t wash things clean. It just made the ground slippery. ​Elias Thorne tasted the copper tang of the storm before the first drop hit the pavement. He stood on the goddy laden ledge of the sprawling gothic revival building that housed the Old City Library, six hundred feet above the streets. The wind up here was a physical blow, but Elias didn't shiver. He didn't feel the cold. He felt the pulse. ​It was faint, erratic, and a drumbeat of terror echoing through the concrete canyons below. ​He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. The city smelled of ozone, diesel, wet wood, and the metallic sharpness of electricity. But underneath the modern stench, the ancient scents remained. The rot of wet leaves in the park. The salt of the harbor. And the sweat of the trespasser. ​He's Mine. ​The thought wasn't a word; it was a growl that vibrated in the marrow of his bones. The Beast within him uncoiled, pressing against the back of his ribs, demanding release. It hated the suit. It hated the bespoke wool, the silk tie, the Patek Philippe watch ticking away the seconds of a civilized life. It wanted fur. It wanted teeth. It wanted the hunt. ​Not yet, Elias commanded silently, his mental grip on the creature. First, we stalk. ​He dropped from the ledge. ​To a human observer, it would have looked like suicide. To Elias, it was simply gravity accepting a superior negotiation. He caught the architectural flag pole and a drainpipe, jumped in a blur of motion too fast for the human eye to track. He hit the alley floor in a three point crouch. The water in the puddle beneath his Italian leather oxfords didn't even ripple. ​He adjusted his cufflinks. ​The intruder was close. Elias moved out of the alley and onto the side street. It was 3:00 AM. The financial district was a graveyard of glass and skyscrapers standing like tombstones for capitalism. ​He heard the scuff of a boot on concrete. Fifty yards ahead. A shadow detached itself from the gloom of a loading dock. ​"You're a long way from the territory, stray," Elias said. His voice was low, smooth, and deep, carrying a resonance that made the glass in the nearby storefronts vibrate. ​The shadow froze, then turned. The streetlight flickered, illuminating a man. He was ragged, emaciated, his eyes burning with a feverish, yellow madness. A Rogue. A wolf who had lost the human anchor, succumbed to the moon, and forgotten the Protocol. ​"Thorne," the Rogue hissed, saliva dripping from his jaw that looked distended, as if the bones were trying to reshape themselves beneath the skin. "The King in his high tower." ​"You killed a security guard at the docks," Elias said, taking a slow step forward. "You fed on him. That is a breach of the Silence." ​"I was hungry..." Rogue shrieked, the sound halfway to a howl. "And you... you sit on a throne of gold while we starve in the woods." ​"You starve because you lack discipline," Elias replied, unbuttoning his suit jacket. "And now, you are a liability." ​The Rogue snapped, with a tearing sound, the man’s face elongated, his spine cracking audibly as he threw himself at Elias. It was a partial shift the most dangerous kind. Claws erupted from human fingers; teeth jagged and gray tore through gums. ​Elias didn't shift. He didn't need to. As the Rogue passed him, Elias grabbed the back of the creature's neck. The momentum was immense, enough to shatter a normal man’s arm. Elias stopped it instantly. ​With a pivot of his hips, Elias slammed the Rogue's face into the brick wall. GBAM The impact sounded like a gunshot. Dust and mortar rained down. ​The Rogue slumped, dazed, sliding to the wet ground. ​Elias crouched beside him, not a hair out of place. He leaned in close. The Alpha stare. It was a weight, a psychic crushing force that forced the Rogue to whimper and bare his throat. ​"Who sent you?" Elias whispered. ​The Rogue wheezed, blood bubbling from his nose. "She... she sees... the cracks....... in the tower...." ​"Who?" ​"The... Audit......" ​The light faded from the Rogue's yellow eyes. His heart gave one last, thump and stopped.The rain intensified, washing the blood toward the storm drain. ​Elias stood up. He pulled a pristine white handkerchief from his pocket and wiped a speck of blood from his knuckles before dropping the cloth onto the body. ​He tapped the earpiece hidden in his ear canal. "Marcus." ​"Sir," came the reply of his Head of Security. ​"Clean up on 4th and Mainland. Rogue element. Deceased." ​"Understood. And the gala, sir? The investors are asking for you." ​Elias looked at the corpse, then up at the towering spire of the Thorne Industries headquarters, piercing the clouds in the distance. The Beast paced in his mind, unsatisfied with the kill. It wanted a fight. It wanted war. ​"I'm on my way," Elias said. "Tell them the CEO was detained by... pest control."