"They were just looters from Nastya's. Zeds took care of them for us."
"Roger that. Keep going according to plan." Nathan moved farther down the road, and stepped on a piece of crinkled paper. No harm in checking it... Oh my God... The paper was a map. A map that had arrows and lines of various colors and flavors around Fenrir's Fangs territory. One that was not drawn by a Fang. Just signed with an X. "This is Nathan Donahue to base, come in James..."
The radio crackled, but not with James' voice. "Sir, we've got a fuckin' Behemoth on our hands! We might be needing some backup here!"
"Roger that, any nearby teams keep your ear on a radio just in case you hear a distress call."
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