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Your work is the greatest I've ever read. Keep it up! ^_^

Please, I'm not really that great...

Anyway, I feel an update is in order... How does the rest of Chapter 1 sound to everyone?



Miami, Florida – 12:00 PM




The airport had to be the busiest place out of all of the city of Miami. Or so it seemed to the wolfdog walking down the stairs toward Baggage Claim. As he rounded the corner, he thanked God that his suitcases were already out and waiting to be taken. He slung his laptop case over his shoulder by the strap and grabbed his two suitcases and turned for exit. Another day… Another murder… he thought to himself as he stepped out into the near-blinding sunlight.

Balto checked his watch. It was 12:05 in the afternoon, so he’d have plenty of time to find his mark and tail him around for a while. Then, when the opportune moment came, he’d do what assassins do best. He hailed a taxi, knowing he had only a few hours to do this, as was specified in the details Lead Dog gave him this morning before he hopped on the plane.

“Where to buddy?” the driver of the taxi cab asked the scruffy wolfdog as he climbed into the back of the car.

“The Marriott Hotel…” Balto answered, settling down into the back. The taxi pulled away from the airport just as another flight was letting its passengers off. One of them being a black and white Husky; Steele. The dog collected his single his suitcase quickly and rushed out to get a taxi.

“The Sheraton Hotel, and step on it,” Steele said to the driver once he’d hailed a taxi and climbed in, soon speeding off down the highway. As Steele was taken on his way, he glanced out the window, watching the other cars go by in the brought Florida sunlight. Then something caught his eye. In another taxi that just pulled off the highway, he could’ve sworn he saw…

“Ah, must be my imagination…” Steele muttered to himself, shaking his head slowly and chuckling, “I’ve become too obsessed with killing him, now I’m seeing things…”

It didn’t take very long for the assassins to reach their destinations and check in. Once they had, it was time to get down to business…




2:15 PM




Balto wandered around the streets of Miami, gazing through the dark tinted lenses of his sunglasses at the dogs he walked by. They all seemed to be vacationers or tourists of kinds, most likely from the states further to the north… Every police officer he passed he took a good look at, but none of them were his mark. But honestly, how the hell am I supposed to find him walking around? he thought to himself, I think it’s time for the more direct approach… Walking past a table of tourists about to take a photograph, he swiftly and discreetly snatched one’s wallet off the table, then headed back to the main road, hailing a taxi.

“To the Miami Police Department Headquarters, please…” Balto said, smirking as the taxi drove off, chuckling as he watched the tourists he’d just robbed suddenly start searching all around their table. He opened up the wallet and rifled through the belongings. A couple $20 bills, a credit card or two, a driver’s license, all the standard things you’d expect in a wallet. But this was just what he needed to bait his prey… Arriving at the Police Headquarters, he walked up the set of steps and into the brightly-lit lobby. Potted plans and ferns lined the sides of the walls where benches were for those waiting to see someone. Balto’s eyes scanned the room, taking in every little detail. Without missing a beat, he walked up to the secretary at the front desk and smiled slightly.

“Hello sir. What can I help you with today?” the secretary asked in a friendly voice.

“Hey, I was walking around and I found this wallet,” he said holding up the wallet, “The ID inside says it belongs to a Troy Vikedal, so I brought it here…”

“Troy Vikedal? Why, I believe he’s in the force…” she said with a curious look, then picked up the phone on her desk “Hang on a moment, I’ll check… Hello, Chief? Is there a Troy Vikedal working in the force?”

“Yes there is… I believe he’s on-duty on Biscayne Boulevard,” the voice through the speaker on the phone said.

“Okay, thank you sir…” the secretary said before pressing the button on the receiver and ending the call before looking up again, “I’m afraid he’s on-duty, sir. If you could-”

But she never finished her sentence, because the wolfdog who had been standing there only a minute ago had suddenly gone, the wallet left on the desk.




Steele hopped off the bus right on Biscayne Boulevard. On the way around town, he’d spotted his mark a couple blocks back and jumped off at the soonest stop possible. He quickly began walking north back along the road, glancing out at the sea for a moment as he walked along the ocean-side road. Soon he arrived at a small café set near the beach, two police officers sitting and sipping what appeared to be smoothies or some drink of that sort. Steele casually walked over to a table and sat down, pretending to look over the menu set in the middle of the table. His ice-blue eyes drifted upward to the two cops. One was a Doberman and the other was a Golden Retriever – the Golden Retriever that was his mark; Troy Vikedal.

A dark smirk slowly spread across Steele’s muzzle. That dog was worth $100,000 and that’s all that mattered to him. The Doberman patted Troy on the arm and motioned to a group of tourists, muttering something before the two of them burst into laughter. Steele scoffed and shook his head. Oh, if only that dog knew what life-threatening danger he was in… Then the Husky’s interests perked as Troy pointed to someone, turning and catching a brief glance at a gray-brown dog walking into the café. He felt his heart skip a beat, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. No, it couldn’t be…

Steele’s eyes stayed locked on the café’s doors, waiting to see if that mutt dog would come outside again, then he could get a good look at his face. But he never got the chance, for Troy and his partner stood up and began to walk down the road again, going back on patrol. Steele muttered a profanity under his breath as he stood up and began to tail behind them at a safe distance, still wondering if that dog he’d seen was someone he recognized all too well…

Balto quickly stepped out of the café as soon as Troy and the Doberman had set off on their patrol again. He walked a few dozen feet behind of them, a couple dogs separating him from his mark; a Collie, a pair of Yellow Labs, a Husky, and some kind of mixed breed dog. But then again, even if he did have a clear shot, he wouldn’t have taken it. There were too many witnesses and any one of them could also be carrying a gun or report him to the authorities. He’d never get out of Miami alive if that happened. It was one thing to kill another dog, but to kill a cop was a serious matter, especially to the police force. They’d have the highways, interstates, and airports locked down tighter than Fort Knox.

No way in hell I’m gonna go and commit suicide… he thought to himself, still casually trailing his mark. All he had to do was tail him all day and once he got a perfect opportunity, he’d take it. Steele kept his eyes locked on Troy, just waiting for a chance to get the dog alone.

It was all just a matter of time now…




8:23 PM




The Golden Retriever’s day went on as it had when Balto had spotted him. The dog was on-duty up until 7 PM, when he got off work. Afterward he went straight to his apartment. Balto would’ve taken the opportunity to kill him there, but he couldn’t get into the apartment building without a key to the front door and he wasn’t about to take the fire escape and start searching from top to bottom and have some dog report him to the authorities for burglary and breaking-and-entering. So he just waited in patience at a mini-mart across the street from the cop’s apartment building until he finally reemerged at 8 PM, dressed in casual clothes and hopping in a taxi. Balto just barely caught him say ‘Nightlife’ before the door closed and he was headed off. Nightlife. That was the name of that new club that had just opened…

Balto stepped outside and walked for a few minutes until he came across a taxi, hailing it and spoke his destination: the Marriott hotel. Soon he was back at the hotel, quickly rushing to his room and closing the door behind him. A dead-serious look plastered his face as he walked over and grabbed a suitcase, dropping it onto his bed and opening it. Reaching inside, he pulled out his shiny black handgun, jamming a fresh clip into it and screwing his silencer onto the end before shoving it into the holster attached to one of his jackets and slipping it on, grabbing a couple extra clips of ammo and placing them in the waistband of his jeans. With that done, he left his room and headed back outside to get a taxi. It was time to get down to business…

Steele had also spotted Troy heading out to the night club, but he’d just been milling about outside of the cop’s apartment building. As soon as the taxi had gone out of sight, Steele ran down a few streets and quickly caught a train, taking it through the city and as close to the Sheraton as he could. He sprinted to his room, grabbed his handgun, loaded and silenced it, and ran out and got a taxi, ready to start work again…




8:47 PM




The new nightclub was definitely going all-out on its decorations. Neon lights lit up the entire front of the long building, palm trees lines the sidewalk at the front of the club, and dozens upon dozens of dogs came flooding into Nightlife. It was actually surprisingly easy for the black and white Husky to slip in unnoticed, weapon concealed in his waistband and hidden by his shirt pulled over it. He glanced around the huge room at all the dogs, about half sitting around tables or the bars chatting with friends and drinking and the other half out on the neon and laser-lit dance floor. Muttering incoherent words to himself, Steele moved over to one side of a bar and leaned against the wall, leniently glancing around the room for his mark.

Everyone went about their own business at the club, no one paying attention to anyone they didn’t have to. That worked perfectly for the scruffy wolfdog sitting at the bar, a beer bottle clutched in his hand as he cast glances around at every golden colored dog he saw. Yet none of them were the dog he wanted to see. With a low growl, Balto took another swig of his drink. Where on Earth could he have gone to? Balto thought agitatedly to himself. A door near to him opened up and a Golden Retriever stepped out into the main area, laughing at someone on the other side.

“You just keep laughing, Troy! You’ll get yours one day!” the dog called in before he walked off and headed into a nearby restroom. Balto’s golden eyes shot to the door the dog had just come out of. Taking a final drink, he set the bottle down and stood up, walking over to the door and leaning against the wall. His right hand slipped inside his jacket and flipped the safety off before pulling open the door and stepping through it. Inside was a smaller, more private room. A group of five dogs were sitting around a Poker table, laughing amongst themselves. As Balto entered, they all looked up at him.

“Hey! This is a private room!” a dog called to him.

“Yeah, beat it!” came the voice of Troy Vikedal, who turned to face him a second later. Balto grinned slightly, but quickly lost it to play innocent.

“Sorry guys, my mistake… *****, where’s the restroom around here?” he asked, acting along before glancing at their game, an interested look gleaming in his eyes, “Hey, you guys playing Poker? Mind letting me sit in for a few hands? You have an open chair right there.”

“That seat’s taken… The guy’s gonna be right back…” a Doberman said, Balto recognizing him as Troy’s partner.

“Alright, but before you say anything else…” Balto replied, pulling out a wad of $20 bills from his wallet, “Huh? Anyone? No? Still not game?” Being the greedy gamblers they were guilty of being, the dogs exchanged grins before Troy gave Balto a nod.

“Take a seat, buddy…”





Steele had noticed the Golden Retriever walking out of the room, but hadn’t heard what he’d said. His brow raised, then narrowed in deadly concentration as he made his way over to the restroom, slipping inside and drawing his handgun, walking up behind the Golden Retriever. He grinned and pressed the barrel of the gun to the dog’s head.

“It was pretty hard to keep track of you, Troy…” Steele said, a triumphant smirk on his face.

“W-what? Troy? I-I’m not Troy!” the dog said, whimpering softly. Steele could tell it wasn’t by now. The voice was different. He growled lowly.

“Then where is Troy? Troy Vikedal, of the Miami Police Department! I know he’s here, so start talking!” Steele threatened, “Unless you want this wall to get a fresh coat of red paint…” The dog yelped and quivered slightly with terror.

“H-He’s in the room I j-just came f-from… We were p-playing a game of Poker!” he said, “Please, d-don’t kill me! Please!”

“I wouldn’t waste a bullet on someone who’s not worth anything to me…” Steele said, pounding the butt of his pistol against the back of the dog’s head, dropping him like a ton of bricks. He pushed the unconscious body into a nearby stall and shut the door before walking back out into the club, keeping his gun hidden at his side as he walked leisurely to the door the dog had come from. With a quick breath, he gripped the door handle, twisted it, and pulled it open.

Balto laughed amusedly as their games continued. They’d played three hands so far and he’d won two of them, earning him quite a profit. Maybe I should be a gambler when I quit… he thought jokingly to himself. As soon as the door opened again, everyone turned their attention to the newcomer: a black and white Husky, a dead-serious look on his face and a lethal glint in his eyes. Balto recognized that glint – along with the dog.

“Who’re you?” Troy asked with a glare.

“Are you Troy Vikedal?” the Husky asked.

“Yeah, what’s it worth to you?” Troy asked snippily.

“$100,000…” Steele replied coolly before raising his right arm, a silver handgun clutched tightly in his hand. He pulled the trigger, putting a round through the Golden Retriever’s head and sending his body collapsing to the ground.

“Sh*t!” the Doberman growled, pulling out his handgun. Steele reacted faster though and fired twice, both rounds striking the black and brown dog in his chest and sent him sprawling backwards to the floor. Balto kicked backward off the table, pushing himself behind the cover of a couch as he ducked down. Steele moved in a strafing motion, finishing off the other three dogs swiftly. Balto drew his handgun from his jacket and shoot up, shooting three times at Steele who knocked the table over and used it as a shield.

“Steele!” Balto yelled out, glancing at Troy’s corpse, “You son of a bitch! You stole my mark!”

“It’s nice to see you again too, Balto…” Steele remarked coolly, grinning to himself, “But it’s the last time you’ll be seeing me… Because I’m not gonna let you get away alive…” Steele shot up and shot two rounds off, striking the arm of the couch and Balto ducked back down behind cover.

“Can’t you get a mark of your own?” Balto snapped back, growling under his breath, “Why the hell do you have to keep coming after mine?!”

“Don’t you enjoy these little engagements between you and me though?” Steele asked, laughing with delight, “Balto, this is what I live for! The thrill of fighting another assassin never loses its luster to me! There’s something about the pressure of not knowing who will win, how many bullets you’ll use… It’s a burst of adrenaline… And you can’t say you don’t love it either…”

“Shut the hell up!” Balto yelled, firing another pair of shots at the table Steele was safely behind before taking cover again, “I swear, Steele… I’ll get you for that!”

“Come and get me, wolfdog!” Steele shouted back, lifting his gun above his head and firing off four random shots just to suppress Balto. Thank God for silencers, or else they’d easily have cops swarming them by now! Their fire-fight continued as such, both skilled assassins taking potshots at one another, emptying one magazine and then another upon each other.

“Is that all you’ve got, wolfdog?” Steele mocked, shoving a fresh magazine into his handgun and pulling the slide back, chambering the first round.

“You’re not doing any better, Husky!” Balto retorted, counting the number of bullets left in his current clip before pushing it back into place and pulling the slide, prepping his gun for combat. Just then, the door opened and the second Golden Retriever walked back in, a gun clutched in his hand. He saw the bodies of his friends strewn about the floor and cried out in shock and fear. Steele turned to him and instinctively shot him, the dog grabbing his chest as he fell backward, out the door, and into the club, his gun going off as he hit the ground with a loud bang!

The resulting gunshot sent the nightclub into hysteria, patrons screaming and dashing for the exit for their lives. Within a minute, the police had been called and were on their way.

“Son of a bitch…” Steele muttered, peeking over the top of the table – and saw Balto making a dash for the door, already over halfway there, “***** it!”

In an act of desperation to kill his rival, Steele fired shot after shot after shot at Balto, missing him by inches. The wolfdog leapt through the air and dove out into the main area of the nightclub, running for the exit. Steele growled angrily and gave chase, rushing outside along with the hundreds of terrified civilians. Once back out in the warm Miami night, his cerulean eyes scanned around for Balto, but his enemy was nowhere to be seen. Steele cried out in anger and frustration before walking over to a nearby taxi, the driver leaning on the hood of the car.

“Just get me out of here…” Steele muttered to the driver before climbing into the back, sighing heavily and gazing down at his pistol in his hand. He’d made the kill, but missed his true target. What a blow to his ego… Within a few moments the driver climbed into the front and started the car.

“Where to sir?” the driver asked.

“The Sheraton Hotel…” Steele grumbled, still fuming over missing Balto again. This was, what, the twelfth time he’d failed to end his life in a firefight? Looking back over all their previous engagements, it was kind of depressing to think of how many times Balto had somehow managed to survive by the skin of his teeth. He stared out the window at the city as the car drove on.

“So, some incident at that nightclub, huh?” the driver asked, “Wonder what happened in there… Heh, by the way those people were running out, it looked like a mass murder!”

“Look, I’m – dead tired…” Steele replied, sinking back into the backseat of the car, “I’d prefer no more chit-chat, please…” The driver chuckled softly before ceasing the conversation, continuing onward. Soon they came to a four-way intersection. Steele glanced to the left, which was the road back, but instead the driver turned right, down another road.

“What the hell are you doing?” Steele asked, now even more pissed off than he was before, “You just missed the turn! What the hell was that all about?”

“Sorry. I’ll just circle around and come back…” the driver said. Steele scoffed and shook his head.

“Well, you just blew your tip…” he remarked.

“Hey, don’t tell me how to do my job!”

“Then just do your job, idiot!”

The taxi came to a sudden stop at an empty corner on the road. The driver sighed and cricked his neck casually.

“Get out…” he said blatantly. Steele was totally lost now.

“What?”

“You want to start giving me grief? Just get out…” the driver stated.

“B-But you can’t just-”

“The hell I can’t…” came the driver’s reply. Steele shook his head in disbelief, chuckling lowly.

“I don’t believe this…” he muttered, then began to open the door – and froze. His gaze briefly crossed the side mirror on the right of the car, reflecting the image of a silenced handgun on the passenger seat. An angry look crossed the Husky’s face. He’d almost been played.

“Why you son of a-” he began and shut the door, raising his handgun as the driver raised his and spun around, a gray-brown wolfdog staring back at him through the glass separating the driver from the passenger. Steele chuckled and grinned slightly.

“Balto… I should’ve known…” Steele said, his voice soft and almost a whisper, “Let me guess… You saw me get in the car, then you jumped the cabbie and stole his taxi… That’s clever… So what, I get out the car and bang! You got me…” The Husky chuckled again. “You know, if it wasn’t for this ***** bulletproof glass, you’d be dead right now?”

“You stole my mark…” Balto replied, his voice as soft as Steele’s was, staring the Husky straight in the eyes, “How’d you get this job? Who hired you?”

“You know a good assassin never reveals his employer…” remarked Steele, and then traced his fingers across the glass where Balto’s gun was, “A silenced Beretta… Fifteen shots… No wonder you had an ammo advantage over me…”

“Who hired you Steele?”

“No, I don’t think I’ll tell you…” Steele said, still smirking at his rival, “But, you know what? How about you take me back to my hotel, where there’s witnesses and guards if you try to kill me, and we both go about our ways…”

“Nah…” Balto responded, his eyes gleaming with a burning anger at the dog he was facing, “Let’s sit…”

Steele sighed softly and chattered his teeth in boredom. Five minutes passed, then ten… Both assassins sat in deathly silence, Balto facing forward again but watching Steele’s every move in the rear-view mirror while Steele glanced around outside for something to focus on. Soon two dogs began to walk down the sidewalk, a mother and her child. Steele grinned; he’d found an advantage. He pressed the button to lower the window and lifted his handgun up. Balto followed Steele’s gaze and felt his mouth drop open, quickly spinning around to face the Husky.

“Drive, Balto… Or perhaps there’ll be two additional murders in the Obituaries section tomorrow…” Steele whispered threateningly, “Drive… Drive… The Sheraton Hotel… Drive, drive, drive…”

Balto felt a lump in his throat, swallowing hard as his mind raced. He couldn’t let Steele get away, not when he had him trapped like this. But those innocent civilians… After a brief moment more, Balto turned the key in the ignition and pulled a U-Turn, heading back towards the direction of the Sheraton Hotel. Steele burst into laughter, causing Balto to glare at him through the rear-view mirror.

“Protect the innocent, huh wolfdog? That’s weak…” Steele commented, “You know, you may think I’m incredibly evil, but I’m really not… You and I are a lot alike, Balto… We’re both highly skilled assassins doing whatever we have to in order to survive in this business…”

“But I don’t kill dogs I don’t have to…” Balto growled back.

“Oh really?” Steele asked, grinning to himself, “What about Mikhail Talinkov?”

“Tachlinkov,” Balto corrected, brow still narrowed furiously at the Husky in the back. Steele leaned forward, nodding slowly.

“Tachlinkov, yes…” he repeated, then cast Balto a cold stare, “He didn’t have a price on his head, did he?”

Balto didn’t reply. Feeling empowered by the wolfdog’s lack of response, Steele kept going.

“Did he even do anything to you?”

Still nothing from Balto’s end.

“So it was just in cold blood…”

“Shut the hell up!” Balto yelled, slamming the butt of his handgun against the glass.

“Whoa, whoa! No need to get angry… What’s done is done, right?” Steele replied. Once more Balto remained silent, a guilty pang running through him. Within a minute the taxi had pulled up to the Sheraton Hotel.

“Well, it was very nice to see you again Balto! We should catch up more often!” Steele replied, opening the door and hopping out. Balto watched with disgust as the Husky walked into the establishment before pulling out, driving back toward his hotel now. It had been a long day and he just wanted to crash…

This is excellent!

Sweet stuff!

Very nice! You've got a way with anthro fics, friend!
This story is quite addictive... I thought Balto had it there.
That card game trick...I've seen that somewhere. Oh well. It's still good.

Write on!
-LWf

Well, my fanfic hasn't been updated in a couple of weeks... I think it's about time it got an update.



Chapter 2




Miami, Florida – 10:25 PM




With a low groan of frustration and anger, Balto slammed the door to his hotel room behind him, locking the door and sliding the latch into place to bar entrance from anyone. He just wanted to crawl under a rock and hide for a few days. His money, his 100 grand was now in the hands of his biggest enemy. It was a truly depressing feeling knowing that you’d failed your job all because your rival went Rambo on your mark and his friends while you’d been playing Poker, waiting for the opportune moment.

“I hate that Husky…” he moaned out, walking over to his bed and collapsing on top of it. He pulled out his handgun and flipped the safety on, dropping it to the floor with a muffled clatter thanks to the carpet.

Balto rolled over onto his back, staring blankly up at the ceiling. Steele’s words still raced through his head, plaguing his mind. But what hurt him the most about them was that they were all true. As much as he hated to admit it, he and Steele were alike in more ways than he cared to accept. And his point about Mikhail… No, don’t think about that… It’s over and done with… Nothing is going to change now… Nothing… Balto forced himself to think, sighing heavily to himself, his chest rising and falling deeply.

“Oh, that son of a bitch… That son of a bitch Husky…” Balto mumbled, rubbing his face exhaustedly. He could still hear Steele’s condescending laugh in his ears, making him feel sick to his stomach. Perhaps something on the TV would distract him. He grabbed the remote and turned on the television set, watching as it flickered to life. Immediately, the news channel came up, a report on the Nightlife incident being broadcast.

“-reporting of a gun going off in the nightclub this evening. Police have locked off the area to the public as of now. No one was injured, but six dogs are now dead, two of them being Troy Vikedal and Trevor Hoffman of the Miami Police Department…” the new anchor said, “Authorities have reason to believe that the killings may have been-”

Balto growled and turned the TV off, having heard enough about that. Hell he was there and almost wound up making it seven casualties! He heaved another sigh, just lying still for a few moments before grabbing his laptop and turning it on, logging into the assassin database as soon as it booted up. He needed something, anything to take his mind off of tonight. As soon as he was logged in, he went straight to the Communicate section, spotting Lead Dog logged in, just as scheduled.

“I failed to retire the mark.”

“What went wrong, Balto?”

Balto glared and growled softly. “There was another player. He got to make the kill before I did.”

“Perhaps you’re getting rusty, Balto.”

“I’m not getting rusty. I almost had him, but I was beaten to it.”

“Either way, you missed your mark. The contract has been terminated.”

Balto took a sharp, irritated inhale, glancing around the room for a moment as he thought of what to say next.

“I still need one more job. Do you have one for me or not?”

“Yes, I do have one last one for you.”

“Thank you…” Balto whispered. “Alright, objective?”

“Retire the mark and obtain something for me.”

“The name of the mark and a photograph?”

“Her name is Jenna McGregor. Unfortunately we don’t have a photograph of her.”

“Great… Just perfect…” Balto murmured agitatedly, shaking his head slowly, then glancing down as another line of text appeared.

“… But we do have her address and location.”

“Anything will do. Just give me what you know.”

“2250 Fallern Blvd. Los Angeles, CA.”

“And the object to retrieve for you?”

“It’s a diskette. Her father is a wealthy businessman and he has a list of financial transactions, bank accounts and codes, everything pertaining to his finances. I need you to locate it and retrieve it for me.”

“And the reward for doing all of this?”

“$20,000,000.”

“Holy sh*t!” Balto cried out, beaming down at the laptop screen, “Twenty million dollars!”

“I’ll do it.”

“Good luck, Balto.”

Without another word, Balto logged off and jumped onto the Internet as fast as physically possible, searching for the soonest flight to Los Angeles. He was going to leave this business a rich dog!




Los Angeles - 11:30 AM




Balto stepped out into the bright sunlight of the Californian afternoon, gazing around his new environment through the dark tinted lenses of his sunglasses. He was all set to begin his job. Lead Dog had given him a very vital lead to completing his objective: the McGregor residence was looking to hire a new guard. Balto had called in earlier to schedule an interview with Benjamin McGregor, Jenna’s father, just a half hour away from now.

If he got the job as their guard, this would be all too easy. From what he’d been told, they’d offer him lodging as well as meals and pay. This would allow him to get close to Jenna – close enough to take her out and score him his $20,000,000. He hailed a taxi and gave the driver the address, quickly checking just to make sure the driver wasn’t a black and white Husky. Thankfully, it wasn’t. I’m being paranoid… There’s no way he’d have followed me all the way out here… Balto thought to himself as the taxi pulled away and took off down one of the many highways.

In a few minutes, the taxi pulled up to the McGregor Villa. Balto handed the cabbie a $20 bill, not caring if it was over the amount he owed; he'd have a lot more soon. He gleefully walked up the stairs to the double doors and took a deep breath before ringing the doorbell. A spirited chime was heard inside, followed by the clacking of heels on tiles. Balto heard a lock click open and the doors were opened by a maid, a fairly young-looking Border Collie.

"Hello," she said cheerfully, "You must be Mr. Garret. Please, come in, you're right on time..."

"Thank you," Balto said and stepped into the fairly large foyer, gazing around at the large stairwell in front of him, the chandelier overhead, and a few various paintings and pictures hanging on the walls.

"Mr. McGregor will be with you in just a moment..." the maid told him and walked into an adjacent room.

Balto slowly walked around the foyer, looking around the room as he paced. He stopped back near the entrance and sighed to himself. After a moment, he heard someone approaching him from the room to the left.

"Ah, welcome!" came the friendly voice Balto had heard on the phone, "You're Kevin Garret, correct?"

Balto turned to see a brick red and white Husky wearing a business suit walking toward him, a large smile on his face. He smiled back, bemused that the dog had used his alias. One thing a good assassin always had was an alias, in case anyone ever tried to do a background check on him. While Balto Talvern was a renowned killer in the assassin world, Kevin Garret was just an average wolfdog civilian.

“Yeah I am. You must be Benjamin McGregor…” Balto replied as the Husky finished his approach.

“Yes I am!” Benjamin replied happily, “Now, shall we get straight to business? Follow me please.”

Balto followed Benjamin as he led him through the halls of the villa. The wolfdog gazed about, taking in his surroundings. If this was where he’d be staying for a short while, he might as well get its architectural layout memorized in case he needed to make a speedy getaway. The two dogs stepped into an office nearer the back of the villa, Benjamin taking a seat at an oak desk near the large windows at the back of the office, Balto sitting opposite of him. The Husky picked up a handful of papers, looking through them again. Balto smiled as he recognized them as the fake resume he’d turned in to him.

“Well, your resume seems very impressive…” Benjamin commented, reading over it one more time before glancing up at Balto, “You worked as a security guard at your uncle’s business for how long?”

“Three years, sir,” Balto answered, having memorized everything on the sheets of paper, “Then I quit a couple months ago.”

“Why did you quit?”

“My uncle died in a car accident, Mr. McGregor…” Balto lied, his words very convincing, “After that, his company was sold to another buyer and changed… So I left to find a new line of work…”

“Well, everything seems to be in order here…” the Husky replied, setting the papers down and smiling at the wolfdog in front of him, “Would you be willing to stay on the premises 24/7?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Would you be willing to stay up all night and day if needed?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Would you try hitting on my daughter?”

“Only if you wanted me to, sir.”

Balto’s last comment brought a chuckle from Benjamin, who seemed quite content with the assassin’s words. He pushed the papers to one side of his desk, then stood up and walked over to Balto, shaking the wolfdog’s hand vigorously.

“Congratulations, Mr. Garret! You’ve got yourself a new job, with room and board!” Benjamin said joyously, “Come, let me show you around the place!”

Balto rose to his feet, following Mr. McGregor as he toured him around the house. After all, what sane assassin would pass up a chance to see the layout of his next base for his job. Once the first floor tour had been completed, they headed back to the foyer, Benjamin rambling in about something Balto hadn’t been paying attention to, but nodded and replied with “Ah, interesting…” However, as they began to ascend the staircase, a beautiful female Husky with the same fur colors and pattern of Mr. McGregor was walking down toward them, a sweet smile on her face. To say Balto was stunned silent would be an understatement, mouth nearly hanging agape as she approached them.

“Ah, Jenna! I’m glad you’re here! I’d like you to meet our new house guard, Mr. Kevin Garret!” Benjamin announced, patting Balto on the shoulder.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Garret!” Jenna said, smiling warmly at Balto. The wolfdog could practically feel his heart cease beating within his chest.

“The pleasure’s all mine, Miss McGregor…” Balto replied, feeling his face go hotter as he stared, spellbound by Jenna’s beauty.

“So, how long will you be working with us?” Jenna asked, almost giggling at Balto’s semi-stunned posture.

“Well, as long as it takes me to complete my job, miss…” he replied, thoughts rushing through his mind. This is the girl I’m supposed to eliminate?! Balto thought to himself, wondering if he could do this now…

“Well, I’m sure you’d love to stay and chat, sweetheart, but I have a tour to finish with Mr. Garret,” Benjamin said, then smiled at his daughter, “Perhaps you’d like to join us? I’m sure Mr. Garret wouldn’t mind a little more interrogation…”

“Dad!” Jenna exclaimed, then smiled at Balto, “I’d love to! That is, if it’s alright with you, Mr. Garret.”

“Please, Miss McGregor-”

“You can call me Jenna, you don’t need to keep saying Miss McGregor…” Jenna chimed in. Balto grinned slightly.

“Alright, Jenna… You can call me Kevin, if you’d like…” he replied, still smiling, “And I’d like you to join us…”

“Excellent! Now, let’s head up to the second floor, shall we?” Mr. McGregor said, leading the two up the stairs again. Every so often, Balto would steal glances at Jenna, wondering how on earth was he going to kill her now?

Well, I'd like to say I saw that coming, but I didn't.
It looks like Balto's job just got that much more difficult...
I just can't help but wonder if perhaps some one else might show up, if you know what I mean...?

Write on, friend. I'm truely enjoying this.
-LWf

Oh my God! He killed the San Diego Padre's relief pitcher??!! Hehehe, Trevor Hoffman... In any case, I'm liking the latest update. I'm also betting we're going to see Steele here before too terribly long. Great work, man, keep it up!

Gahh!!! the suspence is killing me! I NEED an update. This story is GREAT.

You want an update? You got an update! Enjoy!


A week went by for Balto, and each day he began to doubt his ability to kill Jenna more and more. The disc retrieval he’d gladly do without a moment of hesitation or a second thought or any remorse whatsoever, but he couldn’t kill Jenna, he just couldn’t. At one point he’d tried to; slipping some highly potent toxin into her drink when she’d asked him to share a glass of lemonade and talk about themselves, but as she’d gone for the tainted drink, Balto had offered her the clean one, taking the poison and deliberately not drinking it. That was the only time in his life when he’d ever passed up a clean kill.

On the seventh night, Balto was a nervous wreck. He wanted to shoot Jenna and get the $20,000,000 and finally be able to get out of this business, but he also wanted to shoot himself for even thinking about doing any harm to such a beautiful, gentle creature. He ran his fingers through the gray-brown fur on his head, heaving possibly the heaviest sigh he’d ever had in his life, all because of this one job. It was so simple, in essence, but so much harder than he could’ve ever imagined. Finally, with a groan of frustration, the agonized wolfdog collapsed onto his bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling.

I can’t do this… I just can’t do this… I couldn’t harm Jenna, not for any amount of money in the world… Balto thought miserably to himself, I’ll just have to contact Lead Dog and see if he can reassign this job… Suddenly another thought hit Balto, making him sit upright. But the money… Ah sh*t, the money… It’s my only ticket out of this living Hell… he thought, How am I gonna get out of this mess? As if fate had read his mind, a low-pitched beeping sound came from his laptop sitting on the desk at the far end of his room. Balto’s heart sank within his chest.

That was the sound of a contractor trying to connect with their assassin…

Balto swallowed hard to get the lump out of his throat as he slowly rose to his feet and walked over to his desk, pressing the flashing Accept Call button on the pop-up window that had appeared. Suddenly the Assassin Database program appeared, already opened to the Communication section and opened to a chat with Lead Dog. Balto could already tell this wasn’t going to go well…

“Well Balto, how are things with the job?”

Balto could hear his heartbeat inside his head as the blood rushed through his body. Anxiety filled him to the brim as his hands went to the keyboard, fingers running nimbly across each individual key.

“Not so well. I’m having difficulty completing the objectives.”

“I’ve given you a week, Balto. Anyone could’ve gotten it done by now. What’s taking so long?”

“Things have become more complicated. I’m not sure if I can take out the mark anymore.”

“Is she home?”

Balto felt as if his heart were in a vise. It suddenly became harder to breathe as his mind wandered to where this conversation would most likely wind up leading.

“Yes.”

“Is her father home?”

The wolfdog assassin instantly felt sick to his stomach.

“No.”

“Then take her out now. I’ll give you five minutes.”

Balto couldn’t believe what he was reading. He had five minutes left to put a bullet into Jenna before God only knew what Lead Dog would say or do. He wanted to say no, to cuss out his employer and shut the laptop down and walk away, but too much was at stake right now. Not only was there the money, but his life was also on the line. Lead Dog could put him as a mark! There was only one option at this point, and it made him want to just die…

“Alright… Five minutes…”

Balto turned away from his computer and went over to his bed, reaching beneath his pillow and producing his handgun, silencer equipped and loaded for its next use – namely now. Balto’s gold and brown eyes traced over the black metal frame of his gun for a moment, contemplating whether he could do this or not… until he realized he had no choice… The wolfdog spun on his heels and pulled the door open to the hallway, walking out and silently moving down the hallway to a set of oak doors marked with a golden J on each door: Jenna’s room. This was it…

Balto’s grip tightened on his gun as he stood sideways at the door, right hand clutching his gun hidden casually behind his back, left hand on the doorknob as he prepared for what he was about to do. Just open the door, pull the trigger, and walk away… Don’t think about it and don’t stare at her… he mentally commanded himself, forcing his mind to not stray from the moment at hand. As he twisted the knob, his index finger flipped the safety switch on his handgun off and he pushed against the door, stepping into the lavender décor of Jenna’s room.

Jenna herself was lying on her bed, reading one of her many books that she had collected over the years in a mahogany bookcase in her room. As soon as she heard the door open, her amber eyes shot up from the text to see the intruder, smiling sweetly as she recognized Balto immediately.

“Hi Kevin. Can I help you with something?” she greeted warmly.

Balto could’ve sworn his heart stopped right there and then. He stared at her, unable to tear his gaze or his mind away from her. How could he go through with this? It was so simple, yet so impossible! All he had to do was lift his pistol and squeeze the trigger. He’d have more money than he could ever need and everything he’d want. All he had to do was take her life; kill her.

“Um, no Jenna… Just checking up on you, making sure everything’s alright…” Balto replied, his right hand trembling slightly behind his back.

“That’s very thoughtful of you Kevin. I’m fine, thank you,” Jenna replied. Her smile practically killed Balto’s assassin’s instinct. It was at that point he realized his mind had already been made up. He couldn’t do it.

“Well, it is my job…” he said, slowly clicking the safety back on his handgun, “Um… Well… Goodnight, Jenna…”

“Goodnight Kevin,” Jenna said sweetly before turning back to her book as Balto closed the door. Even after he’d left, she couldn’t get rid of her smile. She couldn’t help it; she had a crush on him. He was handsome, dedicated and loyal, strong, friendly, and honest; everything she could’ve wanted in a guy. She was so glad that he’d gotten the job of being the guard for the house, otherwise she would’ve never met him at all.

Balto walked speedily down the hallway and back into his room, slamming the door shut behind him and tossing his gun onto his bed before storming up to his laptop, a scowl on his face.

“I’m back.”

“So the mark has been retired then?”

“No, the mark is still alive.”

“What are you doing Balto?”

Balto growled lowly at the computer screen, brow narrowed furiously.

“Getting the job done my way. I’ll call back once I’ve completed the objectives.”

“Balto, wait.”

But it was too late. Balto shut down his laptop on the spot and shut the monitor closed before collapsing onto his bed. Thoughts sped through his mind faster than a racecar, plaguing his conscience with worry and despair. What had he just done? He’d closed the communication with his employer. He’d broken one of the biggest rules of the Assassin Code. No, two major rules. He’d not only turned away from his contractor, but he’d also fallen for his mark. He would most likely have someone else given his job and possibly be forced to resign for slandering his reputation of perfection. What was he going to do now?




The pitch blackness and dim lights from outside the glass window marked nighttime for the city of Miami. From inside the room, low grunts of force came from the black and white Husky doing push-ups in his hotel room. Every time he pushed his body up, his ice-blue eyes glanced up at his laptop, checking to make sure nothing had changed worth investigating. Nothing so far…

Steele smirked before going back to his routine exercises. Although it had been a week since his last assassination job, he hadn’t gotten a new one since. Things were strangely slow in his life… But he still had one memory that always made him grin. It was when he was in the taxi with Balto. It had been fun taunting his rival, especially when he saw the wolfdog’s reaction. It had made it all worth it for him.

A sudden bling caught the assassin’s attention, as well as his gaze when a pop-up appeared on his laptop. Steele pushed himself off the floor and, while holding himself up with one arm, checked the message. It read ‘One conversation pending’ with an OK button beneath it. Moving the cursor to the button, Steele clicked on it and a chat window opened; his communicator: Lead Dog.

“Think you’re up for another job, Steele?”

Steele chuckled and, while still holding himself up, typed in, “Always ready. What’s the job?”

“It’s very important. I need you to eliminate the mark and retrieve a diskette for me.”

“The reward?”

“$20,000,000.”

“Sweet Jesus!” Steele exclaimed, switching into a sitting position in front of his laptop, “Twenty mil?! Oh my God!”

“Sounds too good… What’s the catch?”

“The mark has a bodyguard.”

“That’s it?” Steele said to himself with a scoff and a slow shake of his head, “This will be all too easy then… Just two kills and I’m rich…”

“Give me the details.”




Los Angeles – 8:38 PM – Three Days Later




The last three days had seemed like the worst that Hell had to offer for Balto. Still living under his alias and ruse, he was becoming more skittish with every sunrise and sunset. His contractor hadn’t made any attempts at communication with him since the incident three days ago and that made Balto about as terrified as if he were facing a loaded gun. Something was up and something was going to happen sooner or later, and Balto had a gut feeling that ‘something’ was going to happen today, and it was only going to be bad for him. Things couldn’t go well from here on out…

Over the last three days, he’d become less like an assassin and more like a bodyguard, making sure the house was always as secure as it possibly could be, making sure Jenna and her father were safe and well every couple of hours, and protecting them more, thought it was all unintentional. He hadn’t meant to be so guarding, but the constant worry of another assassin encroaching on his job kept him on high alert, 24/7. Wherever he went, even around the house, he kept his handgun loaded, primed, and ready to fire, safety off and everything. Rule #1 of the Assassin Code: always be prepared for anything, everything, and nothing.

But after three days, Balto had decided to relax a bit more, thought still keeping himself on-edge at any sign of even the slightest danger. He sat in his bedroom, staring at the shiny surface of his pistol and staring back at his reflection held in the polished metal. He could hear the sounds of running water coming from the bathroom, knowing that Jenna was in the shower. Benjamin was downstairs working in his office, as he had been all night. The maid had been dismissed for the night. The house was secure. Nothing was wrong.

With a soft sigh, the wolfdog assassin slowly rose to his feet and jammed his handgun into the waistband of his jeans. Opening the door, he proceeded out into the hallway and down the staircase in the foyer and walked down the hallways to Benjamin’s office. As he headed down the hall to them, a sudden warm breeze swept into the hall, drawing his attention to the open window to his left. He shut the window before turning to keep walking – and then froze. His brown eyes drifted back down to the windowsill, where something coarse was rubbing against his fingers. It was dirt. Balto opened the window again, studying the windowsill and spotting dirt both on the inside and outside in an oval shape with rigid designs running through it.

It was a footprint.

Balto slowly looked back up and down the hallway before silently walking toward Benjamin’s office doors, his right hand gradually dropping behind him, fingers gingerly tracing the butt of his gun as he approached the double doors, stopping when he was pressed up against them, ear to the wood. No sound was heard within. Bad sign… Balto thought to himself, No sound means no activity… Something’s not right here… Raising his left hand, Balto knocked on one of the doors.

“Mr. McGregor?” he called through the closed doors, “Mr. McGregor, are you still inside?”

No response came from within.

“Mr. McGregor, are you alright?”

Once again, no answer was heard.

“Mr. McGregor…”

Nothing.

That was it for Balto. He placed his hand on the doorknob and twisted it, pushing against the door. It didn’t budge; the door was locked. Balto knocked twice more before growling lowly and bringing a powerful kick onto the lock, splintering the wood and breaking the door open. The red and white Husky Balto recognized as Benjamin McGregor sat at his desk, but he didn’t move, not making the slightest motion at Balto’s sudden intrusion. As Balto rushed forward, he saw the reason why the Husky hadn’t answered or even blinked when he broke in so forcefully. A small hole was at the top of the dog’s forehead, a viscous crimson fluid dripping down his skull. Benjamin McGregor had been assassinated.

“Sh*t…” Balto cursed under his breath, swiftly pulling out his handgun and glancing around the office, “This is bad, this is very bad…”

Immediately, Balto turned and silently but swiftly moved back down the hallway and up the stairs, thankful to hear no more running water, which would’ve been the first attraction for an assassin. He walked down to Jenna’s Room, quickly pulling open her door and sighing with relief when he found her wearing a white bathrobe, flipping through another book. She immediately glanced at Balto when he entered and smiled at him. Had Balto not been so full of adrenaline right now, he would’ve been melting again at the sight of her.

“Hey Kevin. Just checking on me again?” she asked, her voice sweet and soft. Balto shook his head and motioned to her dresser.

“Quick Jenna, get dressed and pack a backpack or a suitcase or something, but we have to go. Now,” Balto said. Jenna, seeing him with his silenced pistol drawn and the serious yet nervous look in his eyes, instantly knew something wasn’t right.

“Kevin, what’s going on?” Jenna inquired, not sure what on Earth he was talking about.

“Listen Jenna, please just pack some clothes and whatever else is a necessity, quickly. We’re running out of time…” he explained calmly, glancing around the hall briefly, “I’ll explain everything on the way out.”

Jenna didn’t need to be told twice. She immediately got up and walked over to her dresser, pulling out some clothes. Balto, both being protective and respecting her privacy, turned around and kept looking up and down the hallway, his handgun raised and following his vision as he moved. It didn’t take Jenna more than ten minutes to get packed with everything she needed. Balto motioned down the hallway, first going to his room and packing before leading her to the foyer and aiming downstairs, making sure no one was there before taking her down to the front door.

“Alright Jenna, I need you to go and wait in your father’s car,” Balto said, handing her the key to Benjamin’s Honda, “Whatever you do, don’t come back inside the house. Got it?”

Jenna nodded and took the car key before silently slipping out the front door with her and Balto’s stuff. No sooner had she left when Balto heard a soft footstep further down the hall, toward where the kitchen and dining room was. He spun around, gun pointing down the hall. Gathering up his nerves, he stealthily moved down the hall, first coming into the dining room. Everything was quiet and nothing had been disturbed. Balto checked under the table; no one. He slowly stood up again, thinking quickly to himself.

His thoughts were soon interrupted as a trio of silenced gunshots sounded to his left, where the kitchen was, shattering a picture hanging on the wall to his right. Balto shot forward and dove down, keeping out of sight from the kitchen. A low chuckle was heard from the kitchen, a chuckle Balto knew too well.

“I knew that the girl had a bodyguard, but I never would’ve expected it to be you, wolfdog…” came the voice of Steele, followed by another chuckle, “What, was the assassin business getting too stressful for you to handle? Couldn’t deal with missing kills to me?”

“Steele… You just can’t leave well enough alone, can you?” Balto called back. Steele laughed, keeping himself ducked behind a service window that linked the dining room to the kitchen as he checked the remaining rounds in his pistol.

“You won’t have to worry about that anymore, Balto… ‘Cause this is the end of the road for our rivalry… It’s the end of the road for you!” Steele retaliated, standing up and firing four blanks off at Balto. The wolfdog assassin growled before kicking out the two legs of the table closest to him, toppling it and making an effective shield.

“So what, you’ve been reduced to breaking into houses and snooping about, huh Steele?” Balto asked, trying to goad the Husky into slipping up, “That’s low, even for you Steele!”

“We’ll see who’s lower once you’re six feet under!” snapped Steele as he emptied his clip at the wooden table, reloading it as Balto shot back at him. The two assassins continued to shoot at one another, emptying magazine after magazine at each other. Balto, however, had been inching his way closer and closer to the door connecting the kitchen and dining room every time Steele ducked down or reloaded.

Once he came close enough, Balto sprinted forward, ran through the door, and dove forward behind the island in the middle of the kitchen while Steele tried to hit him as he ran.

“D*mn!” Steele muttered, pressing his back to the island and silently slinking around to the side. Balto unknowingly did the same, both assassins inching closer to one another. Once Steele had reached the end, he stuck part of his head around the side to try and spot Balto – only seeing the bottom part of a pair of jeans. He glanced up just as Balto brought a skillet down on the Husky’s head, knocking him to the ground. The wolfdog quickly drew his gun up, but Steele moved quicker, grabbing Balto’s leg and pulling him down to the ground. Balto’s gun went off in his hand, the fired shot hitting a frying pan hanging overhead, ricocheting and cutting across the side of Steele’s torso.

Steele yelped slightly as a sharp stinging pain filled his side, growling as he pulled out a combat knife from his belt and slicing across Balto’s leg. Balto cried out in agony before kicking out with his other leg and hitting Steele in the head, stunning him long enough for Balto to pull away and crawl further away. With a guttural snarl, Steele stood up and lunged for Balto, who used the counters to help him stand up. The wolfdog grabbed a steak knife from the set of knives and caught Steele’s knife with his, the result being a clang of metal and Balto’s life being spared. Steele pushed back and skidded across the smooth, polished tiles a few feet from his opponent.

“Alright, half-breed… Let’s see what you can do with that thing…” Steele said, glaring both at Balto and his choice of a melee weapon.

“Come on, Husky… Try and kill me again…” Balto remarked, a warrior’s gleam in his eyes. Steele growled as he and Balto pulled forward, slicing at one another, blocking the other’s attacks while trying to score ones on their own.

The clashing of steel resounded through the deathly-silent house as the two fierce rivaling assassins fought to the death. Balto was faster than Steele, but due to his injured leg, some of his movements were less graceful, sometimes nearly leading to his demise, but thankfully his skill made up for his wound. Once Steele pulled close enough, Balto spun and slashed out with his knife, landing a long slice across Steele’s chest. It wasn’t a deep cut, but it was enough to hurt and draw blood. Steele, getting fed up with this, thrust forward, missing Balto, but as he pulled back, his knife left a slight cut on Balto’s forearm.

Balto winced and took a couple steps back from Steele, both dogs glaring at one another, gazes locked perfectly. The fight would’ve resumed again, but a shrill scream of terror suddenly ripped the silence of the house in half. Both assassins glanced down the hallway from where the sound had come: Benjamin’s office. Balto knew the voice was Jenna’s. They exchanged one last glance before they both shot off toward the hall. Steele moved faster since Balto’s leg was hurt and bleeding quite profusely now. Not willing to let his rival get ahead, Balto hurled his steak knife at Steele’s leg, missing the center, but cutting across the side and sending the Husky down to the floor with a yelp of surprise.

Balto ran as fast and as best as he could down the hall and darted into Benjamin’s office, slamming the wooden doors shut, going to lock them – until he remembered he’d broken the lock. He glanced back over his shoulder and saw Jenna, collapsed next to her dead father, still sitting in his chair, sobbing her eyes out. She glanced up at Balto, tears streaming liberally down from her amber eyes and trailing down her scarlet and cream colored cheeks and off her muzzle.

“W-who would’ve done this? W-why… why did this happen?” Jenna asked, her voice shaky and softer than usual. Balto felt his heart wrench in his chest, but his thoughts of sympathy were interrupted as a sudden crashing force was thrown against the frame of the door. Balto had to hold the door shut as Steele threw his body against the doors, demanding entrance which he was continuously denied. Eventually he paused, needing to rest his shoulder and catch his breath. Balto sighed softly and turned back to the distraught Jenna.

“Jenna, I’m sorry… But this is the reason I have to get you out of here now! Your life is in danger!” Balto explained, speaking quickly to save time, pausing only to stop Steele’s barrage for a few moments, “Listen, I haven’t exactly told you everything… But if we don’t leave now, we’ll both be dead!”

Jenna didn’t move nor respond for several long moments, eventually glancing up at Balto and nodding slowly, wiping some of the tears from her face. He motioned to the chair in front of Benjamin’s desk, Jenna bringing it to him, which he used to prop against the door and hold it shut.

“Okay, now let’s get out of here!” Balto exclaimed, grabbing Jenna’s hand and running toward the large windows at the back of the office while Steele continued to ram the door. After a couple more assaults, the chair gave way and the doors flew open, a very angry Steele marching in and just barely catching a glimpse of Balto and a red-furred Husky as they leapt out the window. He raised his gun and fired twice after them, but they were out of sight.

“Oh, you son of a b*tch, Balto!” Steele shouted, rushing toward the broken windows. He jumped out, spotting two shadows disappear around the other side of the house. Balto ran with Jenna as fast as his legs would carry him, reaching the front within a minute and rushing to Benjamin’s silver Honda. Jenna took the driver’s seat and Balto sat shotgun, keeping his eyes on either side of the house. Jenna turned the key in the ignition and began to pull out the driveway as Steele came around to the front of the house, shooting twice and hitting the front bumper of the car.

“Sh*t! Keep driving Jenna!” Balto said, opening his window and firing a few shots at Steele. The Husky stumbled about before rolling behind a planter for cover, gritting his teeth as he watched the silver Honda pull onto the road and drive off into the night.

“God d*mn it!” Steele swore, slamming his fist against the ground in fury.

“Where are we going to, Kevin?” Jenna asked, her voice trembling slightly from fear of what had just happened.

“We need to find a hotel or somewhere to stay for a night or two…” Balto replied, groaning in pain and he glanced down at his blood-covered pant-leg and heaved a sigh, “And we’ll need to stop by a store or something… You’re gonna have to pick up a few things…”

“What the hell is going on, Kevin?” Jenna questioned, giving him a dead-serious look. Balto was silent for a moment before shaking his head slowly.

“Once we get to a hotel… I’ll tell you…”

Not to say "I told you so" but...
I told you so.

Very nicely done! I like the connection between Balto and Jenna.
Sincere and realistic. Great job on the inner conflict.

Write on!
-LWf

Sadly I don't have time to read this right now... but rest assured I will! I read the prologue and I like your style. Your sense of scene and character has just the right mix, and I think you're right, this one could be your bewst yet! I C/P the work into a word document so I can read it later, but wow... if the prologue is any estimate (which I'm sure it is) then I shall enjoy reading the remainder. KEEP UP THE GREAT WORK!

Wow, Great stuff! Is there gonna be an update anytime soon?