Page 140 of Wolf Roulette

Seriously. Who came up with these names?

Some of the paw patrol stewards retreated from firing at the grills and pushed our water cannons into place.

It would take several minutes to get them in position.

“Snow. Incoming drones! Over.”

I cursed. Shielding on the cliffs was awkward. It wasn’t something we could do in seconds. “Big Red. All stewards shieldimmediately. Over.”

A pack drone shot into the air at the same moment at least four grills were ripped from the fixings.

Fuck.

“Big Red. Prepare Operation Mosquito. Over.”

My mosquito stewards, covered in protective gear, ran across what remained of the middle tier on either side of the quarry.

I waited until the last pack drone had ascended above their spot. “Big Red. Initiate Operation Mosquito. Over.”

Ourdrones shot out and descended on the pack.

For a while, there was near complete silence as both sets of drones spun in rapid circles, launching tranquiliser darts.

I grimaced as cliff stewards who hadn’t managed to get their shields in place went limp.

Our drones were navigated back to the middle tier as the pack drones slowed and descended.

Crunch time. “Big Red. Prepare Operation Batman and initiate Operation Hairdryer. Over.”

Some paw patrol stewards manned the water cannons while the others continued to fire. The pack had ripped off most of the grills—dammit.

I needed to call the lowest stewards to safety soon, but those on the cliffs could help them with cover fire for now.

“Reindeer. More drones incoming! Over.”

“You cunning fucker,” I muttered. “Big Red. Hold your shield position! Over.” I bit my lip, thinking fast. “Big Red. Initiate Operation Mosquito a second time. Over.”

Our drones weren’t loaded with more darts, but the Luthers didn’t know that. I just needed them to hesitate and not gain height while my cliff stewards were forced to shield.

I gritted my teeth as a fresh onslaught of darts showered the cliffs.

Everyone but my Operation Batman stewards were mostly covered.

Darts embedded in some legs and arms that the shields couldn’t quite protect.

“Three Operation Batman stewards,” Pascal murmured.

I swore again.

The pack drones lowered, and ours returned to the middle tier. The pack had shielded, but our bluff wouldn’t work again.

Despite the water blasting out from our cannons, Luthers were reaching the first levels.

“Big Red. Wicked, Snow, send replacements for Operation Batman. Two west. One south. Over.”

Paw patrol stewards needed to get out of there. If Sascha planned a third aerial attack, we were screwed.

There wasn’t time to hesitate. “Big Red. Stewards, resume firing positions. Cover bottom tier. Over.”

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