Chapter 97 The MP's Plans
LORD SILVAIN MORDAUNT
The gathering is in my Kensington townhouse. Thirteen guests. All essential to the final assault on the Rookeries.
Vampire hunters. Hermetic Order representatives. Dragon financiers. Corrupt Alphas.
Everyone who wants Callum Brennan dead.
"Thank you for coming." I stand at the head of the table. "We have seven days to coordinate the final attack. I want precision. Complete elimination. No survivors."
"The numbers?" asks Master Thorne from the Hermetic Order.
"Parliamentary hunters: sixty. Pack enforcers from allied Alphas: thirty. Hermetic Order mages: ten. Dragon mercenaries: ten." I tick them off. "Total force: one hundred ten combatants against approximately forty fighters in the Rookeries."
"Nearly three to one odds." Lord Castellane sounds pleased. "Overwhelming force."
"Yes. But overwhelming force means nothing if not properly coordinated." I pull up a map of the Rookeries. "The district is a maze. Easy to hide. Easy to escape. We need containment before assault."
Professor Fell enters late. He's bandaged. Burned. The magic battle with Tom nearly killed him.
"Professor. Good of you to join us." I gesture to a seat. "Your assessment of their magical defenses?"
"Minimal." Fell's voice is hoarse. "Tom is their only significant magical practitioner. And I severely injured him during our battle. He won't be combat effective for weeks."
"Excellent. So no magical resistance to our wards and containment spells?"
"None of significance." Fell pulls out notes. "I recommend full magical containment. Hermetic Order places wards around the entire Rookeries district. Nothing supernatural gets in or out. Then we collapse the wards inward. Force them into a kill zone."
"Like a snare." I appreciate the elegance. "What's the timeline for ward placement?"
"Three days. We need ten mages working simultaneously. But once placed, the wards are unbreakable by anything the resistance possesses."
"Good." I turn to the dragon representative. "Lord Vermithrax. Your mercenaries are ready?"
The dragon is in human form. Ancient eyes in a young face. "My people are equipped with silver weapons and UV armaments. They'll handle the frontline assault. Vampires can support from rear positions."
"Acceptable." I look at the assembled Alphas. Three of them. All with grudges against Callum or ambitions to absorb Rookeries territory. "Your enforcers will sweep the flanks. Prevent escape. Anyone who runs gets hunted down."
"And the non-combatants?" asks Alpha Greaves. "The children, the elderly, the clearly harmless?"
"No survivors." I'm firm on this. "We're not exterminating fighters. We're erasing the entire resistance. Everyone who joined Callum. Everyone who supported him. Everyone who knew about him and didn't report it."
"That's hundreds of wolves."
"Eighty-three at last count. Yes." I lean forward. "This is about sending a message. Defy Parliament, your entire community burns. No mercy. No exceptions. No second chances."
"What about media?" Master Thorne asks. "Human authorities? This will be visible even through the Veil."
"We'll frame it as gas explosion. Terrible accident. Happens in old buildings. Unfortunate but unavoidable." I've prepared the cover story. "Humans will believe it because the Veil tells them to. And any human who doesn't believe will be dealt with separately."
The group murmurs agreement.
"Timeline is seven days." I distribute assignment folders. "Hermetic Order: ward placement in three days. Dragon mercenaries: position in five days. Alpha enforcers: position in six days. Parliamentary hunters: deploy on day seven. Assault begins at dawn."
"Why dawn?" Castellane asks.
"Because that's when Callum attacked my blood club. Poetic symmetry. We attack at the time he thinks he's safe." I smile. "Plus dawn means better visibility. Harder for targets to hide in shadows."
"Casualties on our side?" Greaves asks.
"Minimal. We have overwhelming force and magical superiority. Estimate five to ten losses maximum."
"Acceptable ratio."
The door opens again. Another latecomer.
Cormac Brennan.
Every eye turns to him. The twin brother of our primary target. The Alpha who framed and exiled Callum.
"Lord Mordaunt." Cormac inclines his head. Respectful but not submissive. "Thank you for the invitation."
"Alpha Brennan. Welcome." I gesture to an empty chair. "We were just discussing the assault timeline."
"Good. I want to be involved." Cormac sits. "Callum's my brother. I should end this."
"Your brother." Vermithrax's voice is amused. "The one you framed for murder and embezzlement?"
"The same." Cormac doesn't flinch. "I removed a threat to my pack. Now I'll finish the job."
"Admirable ruthlessness." I approve. "What are you proposing?"
"Let me lead the wolf hunters. The enforcers from the allied packs. I know how Callum thinks. Know how he fights. I can predict his movements." Cormac leans forward. "You want to eliminate the resistance completely? I can make sure none escape."
"Why?" Thorne asks. "Why personally involve yourself in your brother's death?"
"Because he's my failure." Cormac's voice is hard. "I exiled him expecting he'd disappear. Instead he built resistance. Made me look weak. Every day he survives undermines my authority."
"So this is about pride."
"This is about power." Cormac meets my eyes. "Callum's existence challenges my legitimacy as Alpha. As long as he's alive, wolves will wonder if I earned my position or stole it. His death ends that question permanently."
"And if you face him directly?" I ask. "Brother versus brother. Can you kill him?"
"Already killed him once. In prison, through the system. Killing him physically is just finishing what I started." Cormac's face is cold. Empty. "I won't hesitate."
I believe him. The man feels nothing for his twin. Perfect for what we need.
"Very well. You'll coordinate the wolf hunter teams. Thirty enforcers under your command. Position them along the perimeter. When the assault begins, you collapse inward. Drive the targets toward the center where the dragon mercenaries wait."
"Understood." Cormac pulls out a map. "I know the Rookeries layout. Know where Callum's likely to position defenses. I can guide the assault to avoid his strong points, hit his weak areas."
"Excellent." I address the full group. "Any questions about the operation?"
"What about Count Alteroni?" Castellane asks. "He's been helping the resistance. Funding them, warning them. Will we address that?"
"After the extermination." I have plans for Alteroni. "Let him think he's safe. Let him believe his warnings made a difference. Then, when the Rookeries is ash and Callum is dead, we'll present evidence of his treason. Execute him publicly. Double message: resistance fails and sympathizers die."
"Thorough." Vermithrax approves.
"I don't believe in half-measures." I stand. "Seven days. Final assault. Complete elimination. Any other business?"
Silence.
"Then we're adjourned. Coordinate with your teams. Report any issues immediately. This operation must be flawless."
The group disperses. Cormac lingers.
"Lord Mordaunt, a word?"
"Of course."
Once everyone's gone, Cormac speaks quietly. "I want to be there when Callum dies. Want to see his face. Want him to know I won."
"You'll have that chance." I pour us both drinks. "But tell me honestly. Is there any part of you that regrets this? He's your twin brother. You grew up together."
"We share DNA. Nothing else." Cormac's voice is flat. "He was always father's favorite. Always the good son. Always the one who did things right. I was seven minutes younger and that made me secondary for life."
"So this is revenge."
"This is correction. I'm the Alpha. I'm the one who deserves power. Callum was accident of birth order. Nothing more." Cormac drains his glass. "When he's dead, no one will question my legitimacy. I'll be the Alpha who eliminated a resistance. Enhanced my reputation instead of being defined by my brother's shadow."
"You've thought this through."
"For two years. Since I framed him." Cormac sets the glass down. "Seven days. Then it's over. And I'm finally free of him."
I watch him leave. Cormac Brennan. The brother who feels nothing.
Perfect ally for genocide.
Seven days until the assault.
Seven days to finalize plans.
Seven days until Callum Brennan and eighty-three wolves die screaming.
I'm looking forward to it.