Wolf Hall was the command center for all Dragoon operations, and it housed business offices for all senior officers. Today was paperwork day for the Wolf, and that meant time in the office. He would be there and we were very nearly late. Jaime Wolf didn't like his staff-to be late.

The sun felt warm after the chill of the tube station as we walked toward the small door in the east side of the building. The entrance was inset in the wall, the only shade in sight on that sunny morning. Maeve was passing through the scanners in front of me when I heard a groundcar pull up. I looked over my shoulder and watched the car stopping near the stairwell that we had just left. The flags on the car's fenders marked the vehicle as the Wolf's. I was relieved; we had arrived before he had. Then I thought again. Experience had taught me that the Wolf must be having a bad day if he wasn't an hour early. A bad day for the Wolf was a worse day for his staff.

I had no idea how bad the day was going to be.

As the groundcar doors began to open, the Elemental shifted from his position at the concrete barrier. He emerged from behind the creogan bush at the end of the fence, his weapon leveled. The snouts of the multibarreled antipersonnel machine gun built into the suit's right arm were dark with ominous promises of destruction.

It was too late to shout a warning. Wolf was out of the car and turning just then to see his danger. I reached for my pistol, a futile gesture because the weapon could never penetrate the battle armor. But I had to do something.

The Elemental opened fire.

His first shot went just ahead of the Wolf's ground-car, tearing up concrete beyond it as the heavy slugs impacted. With the next shot, the Elemental corrected his aim and sent fire ripping along the front fender of the car. The car's driver, who had been walking around the front of the vehicle, was cut in two. Grotesquely, her legs took another two steps after her torso hit the ground. Then the Elemental poured fire into the car, and shrieking metal shrilled.

I could see the Wolf crawling along the pavement, keeping the car between him and the Elemental. I guessed that he was headed for the stairs down to the tube station. The concrete would provide better cover than the groundcar. I was terrified to see that he left a trail of blood. He had been hit, whether by weapons fire or some of the shrapnel generated from the car I couldn't tell. He needed help.

If I ran to help him, I would be killed.

Leveling my pistol at the Elemental, I pulled the trigger and sent impotent slugs to patter against his bulbous chestplate. They were no threat, but I got his attention. I ducked back into the building as he raked the entrance with fire. The walls were thick enough to protect me.

I had bought some time for the Wolf.

Maeve crowded me as I blocked the door.

"What in hell's happening?"

"Elemental firing on the Wolf." I shoved her back, in case the Elemental changed his line of fire. Knowing nothing better to do, I changed the magazine in my pistol.

The door guard pushed his way past us. He had faith in his armor and weapons, but the Elemental cut the man down the moment he appeared.

Outside, the firing subsided.

Troops would not be long in arriving, but would they be fast enough to save the Wolf? Was it already too late? I risked a look. The Wolf was nowhere to be seen, but his blood trail led to the stairwell. He had made it!

The rogue Elemental was rocking from side to side as if trying to see through or into the burning ground-car. I guessed he was unsure of his handiwork. I thought to draw the rogue's attention again to give the Wolf more time to escape, but before I could move, Jaime Wolf showed himself. The Elemental spotted him, too, and sent a burst at him. The Wolf ducked, fast enough that slugs sprayed concrete shards over the sidewalk but missed him.

The rogue started to run toward the stairwell in ungainly strides. Four meters from the conflagration that separated him from his quarry, he cut in the suit's jump jets and arced into the air.

It was what the Wolf was waiting for.

A tight stream of water under high pressure burst from the stairwell, catching the Elemental square on his portside backpack launcher. Twisting backward under the impact, he lost control of his flight. The jets smashed him down into the pavement. He toppled onto his back, moving spasmodically as if dazed.

Then Jaime Wolf appeared at the top of the stairwell, fire hose in hand. He fought the stream down and directed it at the Elemental, setting the suit to spinning on its back as a child might toy with a tortoise. The rogue flailed his arms, apparently unable to regain control of the suit.

I rushed to the guard's station and opened the comm-link to call for Elemental support and a medical team. As I directed the arriving security forces, Maeve slipped outside and scooped up the fallen doorguard's rifle. She set herself in stance and started firing in short bursts, seeking the weak spots in the battle suit as it rotated.

It took only two minutes for the Elementals to arrive, a five-man Point plus Captain Elson. With brutal efficiency, the Point pounced on the rogue, who was too disoriented to fight. They cracked him out of the suit. Maeve must have found at least one crack in his armor, for his right arm was bleeding. Except for that he seemed unharmed. The medical term arrived shortly afterward and rushed a gray-faced Jaime Wolf off to the med center. The would-be assassin went in a second ambulance, but he received less solicitous care.

Stanford Blake handed me my commnet headset as he brushed past me to join the group of officers gathered around the untenanted battle suit. Several senior officers were present, including the Home Guard commander, Jason Carmody, Hamilton Atwyl, the aerospace commander, and Hanson Brubaker of Contract Command. Elson, the helmet of his battle suit rocked back to expose his head, stood with the officers. His remaining men—two had gone with the Wolf and one with the rogue—were still sealed in their suits. The pair moved away to hold their own conference. I spent a few minutes linking to the commnet and assuring various commands that all was under control before joining the officers. I left a channel open to the med center frequency.

"Suit's Nova Cat style," Stan announced. He looked puzzled.

I looked at Elson. He was stony-faced and silent, but his skin had flushed a bright red. He had been a Nova Cat once and still bore their Clan name as his own surname, just as Jaime Wolf bore the Wolf Clan name. Neither was a member of his original Clan anymore. Was Elson feeling embarrassment that his old Clan would try this assassination attempt, or was it because they failed? Or did his apparent response mean something else?

Jason Carmody kicked the empty suit's arm. It barely moved, but the impact was enough to make the two thick fingers and the opposed thumb of the left gauntlet quiver and uncurl slightly. He shook his head slowly.

"Don't they know we've been repudiated by Clan Wolf?"

"They must know, Jason," Stan said. "Maybe they don't care. Maybe it doesn't matter to them because we helped beat them on Luthien. We know they overextended themselves on Tukkayid to prove that Luthien was an accident. All they did was end up getting soundly beaten again. Not to mention that losing the Battle of Tukkayid is the reason the Clans have had to promise to hold their invasion at bay for fifteen years. We've given them enough reason for hate by ourselves; they don't need the old feud with the Wolves."

"Can't be a feud with us. There was no declaration," Brubaker pointed out.

Stan sighed. "Be serious, Hanson. We aren't living in an honorsong. Nova Cats aren't the only ones calling us bandits. Nobody has to declare feud with bandits."