His head felt the pressure as though jumping from a skyscraper. Still, he forged on with his mind spiraling out of control, sifting through the memories of the unconscious men as though they were his own. Then one of the men stirred, groaning, as though he too felt the probing of his mind like a physical touch. But Kelly knew better; only he was aware of the feelings during this connection.
Sensing an ideal opportunity, Kelly, straining against the tension that had built up in him, yanked the needle out of the man who hadn't moved. He then bent over the man that was fighting his unresponsive state. Bracing his hands on either side of the man's head, he concentrated.
His breathing erratic, Kelly finally staggered to his feet. "Oh man." His eyes flew open. "I think I hit something." He paused, massaging his eyes. "And a name. Someone they report to."
"Do you have her location? Did you find my wife?" Viktor grabbed his shoulder forcefully.
"I think so, in a room on the next level." Kelly felt calmer now that he'd stopped processing the men's thoughts. He drew in deep breaths, steadying himself on his feet. "Two doors past… the left of the stairs." He paused as he caught his breath. "Opposite a window."
"Good," Viktor said as he whirled around, heading for the darkened hallway. "Alright," Viktor gave the three young werewolves a seething look, "It's time now. Let loose."
The three young women smiled at him. They had been trembling with the need to rebel against the ordered operation and hunt for the men who had killed their friend in the earlier ambush. From this moment forth there would be no holding back.
Viktor led his rescue team through the corridor, which turned left four times before it met a staircase. At the top of the stairs they met a barrage of bullets. Viktor led his team down the stairs into the direct line of fire. The men kept firing at him, backing up as they did so, shocked as they realized the fierce man had walked by them unaffected by their gunfire. They noticed too late the snarling, hairy beasts in front of them.
The petite femmes had transformed into werewolves, standing on their hind legs. The men's faces contorted in fear as they shrieked before they felt the ripping of their tender flesh by large black claws, and their heads being seized between the jagged teeth of supernatural creatures.
Viktor brushed past each man with a machine gun, quickly drawing their fire and leaving them unaware of the approaching doom from the blind spot over their shoulder. He finally reached the door, where a sentry stood blasting at Viktor's head with rapid fire rounds from an AK-47.