RED HAZE: A Werewolf Story for the 21st Century

RED HAZE

A WEREWOLF STORY FOR THE 21
^st
CENTURY

BOOK 1 OF THE RED HAZE CHRONICLES

BY

IAN REDMAN

Cover design by Carole Stevenson

DEDICATION

To my wonderful, inspirational mother Dorothy Redman and to the memory of my incredible father Ernest Redman, who I miss so very much.

I also want to dedicate this novel to the memory of my late grand parents, Sally and Lesley Little who helped to nurture my keen sense of action and adventure in my childhood, and to Carole Stevenson who has always believed in me.

Author’s Note

Dear Reader

Many thanks indeed for trusting me to entertain you.

I want to say a big thank you to Neil and Liane Stevenson for their ongoing support and Sandra Michelle McLaughlin and Jackie Koshnik, for never doubting me.

I am writing The Red Haze Chronicles as a series of ongoing, open ended werewolf novels that will always leave the reader on a knife edge of tension at the end of each individual story.

When you start reading this novel will you please promise me one thing?

Do not rush through it! Give yourself time to relax and then immerse yourself into Ash Piper’s world.

I do hope you will enjoy these adventures as much as I am enjoying creating them.

And now…

PREPARE FOR COMBAT!

THE HUNT…HAS BEGUN!

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE - FEAR

1 - UNDER FIRE

2 - NIGHTMARES AND KISSES

3 - PAIN AND PLEASURE

4 - LETHAL PASSENGER

5 - THE NATURE OF THE BEAST

6 - A PROMISE OF VIOLENCE

7 - PILLOW TALK

8 - RED LIGHTS…RED HAZE

9 - THE KEY

10 - WOLVES AT THE DOOR

11 - BLOOD ORDER

12 - SCALPELS AND SHADOWS

13 - BLACK CAMELOT

14 - THOUGHTS FOR A MARTYR

EPILOGUE - INFILTRATION

GLOSSARY

ABOUT IAN REDMAN

“A man does what he must

In spite of personal consequences

In spite of obstacles and dangers and pressures

And that is the basis of all human morality.”

WINSTON LEONARD SPENCER CHURCHILL

~ ~ ~ ~

“A small band of the best and most determined is far more valuable than a large mass of camp followers.”

ADOLF HITLER    1926

~ ~ ~ ~

“Beware the wolf at the door.”

OLD RUSSIAN PROVERB

PROLOGUE

FEAR

Dateline: 02 September 2001 - 19.15 hours

Location: The City of Rostov, Russia

Captain Gregori Mentsov of the Rostov Police Bureau stood amidst his men. Over thirty of them and all armed. Where are they, he thought, they should have been here at least ten minutes ago? As the bustling crowd of onlookers gathered behind hastily constructed barriers, a look of intense concern etched its way across the Captain’s weary face, his tired eyes gazing across at the beautiful, ornate house silhouetted against the darkening skyline. Then he heard it, the droning, thumping sound of the helicopter’s rotor blades, drawing closer…ever closer.

“CAPTAIN, THE SPETSNAZ ARE HERE,” yelled one of his officers as Mentsov’s gaze followed the large metal bird above him.

Swinging around over the milling throng of people, the Mi-8 helicopter began hovering above the crowd as a heavy downdraught swirled from the rotors, creating a vortex of thunderous power across Sorev Street.

Quickly, efficiently, a rope dangled from the helicopter’s open doorway as eight heavily armed, black clad men quickly rappelled to the pavement and ran forward towards the waiting police officer, their leader signalling all was well.

The pilot nodded as the metal beast began to rise, smoothly turning to the left, skimming over the rooftops and vanishing from sight.

Captain Mentsov walked forward and spoke quickly to the tall man in the black body armour and helmet, the Commander of the Russian Special Forces team.

“Am I glad to see you,” Lieutenant Sergey Asoyevich nodded as Mentsov continued, “at last, we have the bastard!” With a sense of dire urgency, Mentsov turned and pointed to the house directly in front of them, number 36 Sorev Street, one of the more well-known, salubrious residential areas in the modernised city. “The Ripper”, Mentsov’s voice trembled slightly, “he’s in there!” Again, he pointed to the house.

“How long since you surrounded the place?” asked the Lieutenant.

“About sixty minutes ago.”

Captain Mentsov sounded worried thought Asoyevich…and frightened!

“Three of my best men went in. We heard gunshots, screams, terrible screams, then…nothing.”

“What about the family?” Now it was Asoyevich who sounded concerned, “held hostage?”

“No…no, no, they will all be dead. The mother, father and the two children, you know what this scum is like…no mercy!”

“Shit,” Lieutenant Asoyevich turned to his team, “right, we take the bastard now! Vasili, Yuri, Pieter, Sasha, the rear of the house, maximum force. Shoot to kill if necessary, we go on command…understood?”

“Sir!”

As the Spetsnaz team prepared to move, a reporter from a hastily gathered news team pushed through the crowd. “CAPTAIN…LIEUTENANT,” the two men looked quizzically, then angrily at the petulant man with the loud voice. “IS IT TRUE?” he yelled, a microphone gripped tightly in his hand, his cameraman up close behind him.

“IS WHAT TRUE?”

“THE ROSTOV RIPPER, HE’S BEEN CAUGHT AT LAST?”

“THAT IS NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS,” shouted Mentsov, “GET OUT OF THE WAY, GET BACK BEHIND THAT BARRIER!”

“PLEASE, TELL US!” The reporter, now up close and personal, his voice calmer, was not going to follow orders. “Is the Ripper in that house, is he…has he been caught? Please, answer my question, the people have a right to know?” TASS news reporter Rimsky Valek was delighted. As far as he was concerned this was the scoop of a lifetime, a milestone in his career, and certainly for TASS itself.  

Calmly Mentsov replied, “yes, we have him at last!” Why not tell them he thought, after all, the siege was his plan, it was he who had tracked the Ripper, he who had caught him, yes, let the Russian people know, let the world know. Mentsov smiled, a smile of grim satisfaction. A promotion was bound to be awarded he thought, yes, a promotion, and possible fame!

With a huge, beaming smile on his face Rimsky Valek stood and faced the camera, proudly boasting to his many viewers that he was the first on the scene.

“Enough of this shit,” said Asoyevich dryly, “let’s go!”

At the rear of the large, beautiful house, Vasili, Yuri, Sasha and Pieter were ready for the ‘Go’ command from their Lieutenant, now standing with the other three team members close by the front door. All were in the classic ‘break and enter’ positions utilised by Special Forces teams the world over, flat against the house walls, their bodies protected by bullet-proof armour, their sub machine guns and shotguns ready…for combat.

“THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE!” Captain Mentsov’s voice echoed across the street from a loudspeaker attached to a police van. “GIVE YOURSELF UP! COME OUT SLOWLY THROUGH THE FRONT DOOR, WITH YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR.”

The seconds ticked by…there was no response.

Turning to the police officer in the control vehicle Captain Mentsov nodded, “tell Lieutenant Asoyevich to begin the assault.”

“Yes sir.”

The officer spoke into the microphone attached to his headset as Gregori Mentsov clenched his fists together, his face creased with worry.

At the same time, just beyond the horde of people behind the barriers, Rimsky Valek talked excitedly to the Russian people via his cameraman. “…as I stand here in Sorev Street in Rostov, a highly disciplined and well trained Spetsnaz unit are about to make an assault on the house behind me.” The cameraman moved away from Valek, his lens pointing toward the dwelling. “The Rostov Ripper has been caught at last”, Valek continued, “now, with a total of eighteen murders of men, women and children over the last seven weeks, it seems this evil menace to our society will finally be caught.”

The milling crowd around Valek listened intently to his audacious reporting as a sense of excitement and fear filled the air. “Let us hope the two adults and two children inside this house of terror are still alive.” Noticing the cameraman tilting his head to the left, Valek turned quickly, “the situation is tense, and right now, even as I speak, the Spetsnaz are ready for their assault!”

As he watched the brave soldiers preparing to enter the house, Rimsky Valek suddenly felt very cold.

Through his helmet mounted Com-link, Lieutenant Asoyevich spoke to his men, “Vasili, the rear door…is it locked?”

“Firmly”

 “Very well, on command…”

The men brought their weapons to readiness.

“Three…”

At the front of the house, the four Spetsnaz gazed at each other, their eyes wide with tension.

“Two…”

Vasili, Yuri, Sasha and Pieter did the same.

“One…”

It was time.

“GO, GO, GO!”

The shotguns fired first.

“BREACHING!”

Instantly, four booming shots brought the front door down, the rear door too, crashing onto the kitchen floor.

Vasili, Yuri, Sasha and Pieter crouched down, their weapons pulled tight into their shoulders, their gun sights lined close to their faces as they carefully, slowly, entered the house.

It was dark.

“Go to night vision,” whispered Vasili.

“Affirmative” 

Through the eerie green glow of their night vision goggles, the two teams of men began the hunt for the serial killer known locally as the Rostov Ripper.

The house was larger than they had expected, the family, affluent, certainly rich.

“We have found two bodies,” it was Vasili’s voice, from the kitchen. “The police officers…what a mess, it looks like they were ripped apart, their wounds are bad…very bad.” Vasili paused, his breathing erratic, strained, “it looks like they were firing in a semi circle, around the kitchen, strange…” Vasili looked at Pieter, who shrugged his shoulders.

It was quiet, far too quiet! Lieutenant Asoyevich slowly moved forward, his men carefully following. “Okay, we are in the hallway, moving into the living room…shit, we’ve found the children, or what’s left of them.”

“Look at their throats, they’ve been ripped out, and…where are their arms?”

The Spetsnaz trooper behind the Lieutenant scanned the room, the view through his night vision goggles giving a surreal, almost ghostly feel to the already unsettling atmosphere.

“Coming through!” Vasili spoke again, the four troopers cautiously walking across the blood soaked carpet of the dining room. “The other police officer, he’s here.”

“What is the condition of the body?” whispered Asoyevich.

“Throat ripped out, most of his face and both arms… missing. I would say he’s been thrown all over the place.”

“Look at the blood…it’s everywhere.” The trooper next to the Lieutenant sounded frightened.

“Calm down, focus on the job at hand.”

The heavy thump on the ceiling took them all by surprise!

“What the fuck was that?” Pieter spoke, his voice quivering, “the bastard’s upstairs.”

“The bodies of the adults too no doubt!”

Then, they noticed the stench!

“Do you smell that?”

“Yes, it reminds me of…something.” The smell was strong, a sweaty, damp smell. “Right, let’s move to the stairway, keep close and keep your wits about you!”

Slowly, carefully, they moved together as the stairway came into view.

Swiftly, Asoyevich brought his fist up…all stop!

The eight men crouched down, looking around the hallway, then at each other.

It will be a difficult assault up the stairway thought the Lieutenant, the Ripper would have the advantage.

Again, unnervingly, came the thumping noise upstairs.

“Definitely the front bedroom,” whispered Yuri, “the bastard’s waiting for us!”

“What is he doing?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care!” Asoyevich held a hint of menace in his voice, “right, let’s get up the stairway!”

The team nodded, giving the affirmative to their commanding officer.

As Lieutenant Asoyevich moved forward the stairs began to creak.

“Shit, we’re dead meat going up here,” Pieter was worried, his stomach tied in knots.

“We have no choice.”

Like a giant lethal snake they began moving up the stairs, their weaponry poised, ready to fire at the slightest movement.

“Vasili, get a stun grenade ready.”

“I already have!”

Their voices were whispers, faint echoes through their headsets.

“Good, we move to the front of the bedroom door then use the shotguns to breach. Vasili, get ready to throw the grenade in …understood?”

The Spetsnaz troopers nodded, their leg muscles flexing, ready for the final dash to the front bedroom door. 

Then…they heard the growling. Just for a split second, a deep, penetrating, guttural sound.

“What the hell was that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Sounded like a dog!”

“Fucking big dog,” said Sasha.

Under his black, bullet proof body armour, Lieutenant Asoyevich was perspiring heavily.

All his men were.

Over the years, several of them had seen action in different Spetsnaz teams. Afghanistan, Chechnya and various terrorist strongholds in the Ukraine and Latvia had been hotspots for these well trained and disciplined men. But they had never encountered a situation…like this!

The growling started again!

“It’s a fucking dog in there I tell you.”

“Shut up Sasha! Keep quiet and calm yourself.” Suddenly, a strange feeling invaded Lieutenant Asoyevich’s lower stomach. He recognised the feeling. It was fear! Cold, sharp, intense…fear!

They ran swiftly up to the top of the stairway, then froze in horror!

“Ohhhh shit!”

“What the hell?” An arm and a leg lay there, for all to see on the blood-drenched carpet.

“The body parts, they’ve been chewed,” Pieter felt like throwing up.

“The shit’s a cannibal.”

“Fuck!”

There was no time to lose thought Asoyevich! The matter had to be resolved, and quickly.

Again, came the growling, much louder this time, behind the door of the large master bedroom. Growling, intense, evil…growling!

“PREPARE TO ENGAGE,” shouted Asoyevich, “MOVE, MOVE!” Whatever is behind that door thought the Lieutenant, it has to be killed, and killed now! “VASILI, GET READY!”

The eight men ran forward, weapons ready as the shotguns opened up, loosening the lock and hinges on the bedroom door. With the cacophony of gunfire echoing across the landing, Vasili pulled the pin on the stun grenade, leaned into the bedroom, and prepared to throw.

Then, with an unholy, gut wrenching roar, the beast pulled him in!

“VASILI!”