Theobald supped from his tea in his new office as he watched the members of the unit arriving in the adjoining room through the glass window. Most of them looked so young but there were still some of the old hands left. It still seemed odd to him to think of this as his new office. It was after all his old office and it still should be Iona’s office he though bitterly.

 He had not yet bothered to redecorate. The photograph of Iona and her family happily smiling on their holiday to Rome was still on the mantlepiece. How carefree and pretty she looked in that...a sad difference from her current state in St Mungos. She would get better physically of course but the scars would never heal. Her assailants would pay for that, that he swore.

 The case still worried him though. This was no ordinary werewolf attack but some sort of organised gang.  There did not appear to be especially skilled bar the werewolf but they were ruthless and motivated and had considerable numbers. Still while the werewolf gave them their strength he was also their weakness. The others might be able to blend into society seamlessly but a werewolf could not, not completely anyhow to those who knew what to look for... 

 It would be a busy day. By its end he would have to make sure that they could account for the whereabouts of all registered werewolves on the nights in question. It was par for the course in all these investigations despite the allegations of victimisation it usually incurred. It was necessary in order to be thorough though. It was also unfortunately needed to provide the public with re-assurance that the registration scheme actually worked and that they need not fear law-abiding werewolves and thus to protect those same werewolves from attacks. As always it would need to be handled sensitively. Iona had provided him with a list of those who could be trusted to do it in such a manner. Some of the names on it, like Amy Greer, did not surprise him. She had also provided him with a list of those who could not be.  Those names did not surprise him either but he was pleased that it was shorter than he had expected and lacked any new additions.

  He felt in his bones though that it would be a waste of time in this case. This particular werewolf would not be registered so the real hunt would have to start elsewhere. The less civil and more prejudiced members of the team would help him with that today. Their particular talents would certainly come in useful in questioning the scum he had a mind to visit this afternoon... 

It had been two weeks since the last full moon and there were still two weeks until the next one, but the chaos within the Werewolf Capture Committee hadn't let up.  Interviews, witness statements, the damned inquest over the three damned deaths, paperwork that Bruce normally took care of, the unending and uncertain transition.  The pressure was showing in everyone within the Unit, and they were all ignoring it.  There wasn't time to crack.  All of them wanted answers.

Normally, Kurby wouldn't have bothered to knock on his way into the Head's office.  He and Iona Bruce didn't always agree, but after a decade of working together, they had an understanding.  Had had an understanding, he correctly grimly, pausing to rap his knuckles loudly on the door.  Bruce was gone.  She wasn't coming back.  They all knew the dangers that they faced as part of their occupation, and after fifteen years, teeth and claws had finally gotten the better of her. 

Some fates were worse than death, and in the Werewolf Capture Unit, everyone knew it.

He might have allowed a knock, but that was as much respect as he was willing to give.  Kurby strolled inside, not waiting for the older man to admit him.  He had worked under Theobald Mainwaring before.  The man had mentored him for years, the same as he had Iona Bruce and Olaf Parkinson.  But that didn't mean that Kurby was brimming over and beside himself with respect today, especially not, he thought sourly, when everyone in the bleeding office knew or just-as-well suspected why their former boss had finally deigned to make his grand return to the field.

"The team's here," he said shortly, his eyes flickering over the office.  As of yet, it still looked exactly the same.  The details were all still in place, with Bruce's photographs even left on the mantle.  It was as if their illustrious leader had just stepped out for a week's holiday, as if a temporary replacement had stepped in for the interim.  Gone to Normandy, be back on Monday.  Kurby was sick of it.  Death was better than all this pretending.

He focused on the man, forcing a smirk.  "Not that we mind waiting," he added sarcastically, "but the kids'll get jumpy, you keep lettin' them sit too long."  They already were jumpy, Kurby knew.  The Unit had lost two good, experienced hands in only one lunar cycle and had nearly been down two more.  Getting Mainwaring back didn't make up for losing Parkinson and Bruce.  He raised his eyebrows, crossing his arms as he regarded his new - and former - boss.  "What's the plan?"

 Kurby hadn’t changed over the years, Theobald noted.  That had its good and bad points. At least he could be relied upon to hunt their quarry well. That was important, even if he could do without the sarcasm.

 “The usual for now. Our current target may have more support than most but we know that he is using wolfsbane potion so we can track him through it as with any other rogue werewolf. The junior members can finish off interviewing the remaining registered werewolves to ensure their whereabouts are accounted for on the nights in question and to make sure their supplies of potion are accounted for.  You and the more experienced members should start bringing in all the known smugglers and black market potioneers. One of them is the likely route we will catch this filth. If any of them resist you know what to do. We have to get this filth ourselves and quickly! I don’t give a damn if a few scum get hurt along the way.”
 
 Theobald led Kurby back to the main office.

 “Good morning ladies and gentlemen. Some of you know me well. Some of you do not as yet. That will change over time but that is not important at the moment. We all wish that Iona and Olaf were still here but they are not and we have a duty to society...to them to bring their attackers to justice. I have heard some of you saying that we are not equipped to deal with a group of insurrectionists. Put such thoughts aside. We are dealing with a werewolf and you are all trained in bringing in a werewolf. I do not care at the moment what his motives are. I do not care who is supporting him. Our target is a werewolf, a werewolf who has taken our own, and we will bring him down.

  From the ambush we know that our target was able to reason at the full moon. That means that he has access to wolfsbane potion. That means that we can trace him.

 Amy, you and your team will continue to interview registered werewolves. We need to know their whereabouts the nights of the attack to exclude them from our investigations. As importantly we need to know that their stocks of potion are accounted for. If you come across any werewolf who claims they have lost their potion or drank too much of it place them under surveillance.  If any of them cannot account for their whereabouts bring them in for further questioning.
 
The rest of you report to Kurby and me.  As we all know there are less legal avenues by which our target could be getting his hands on his potion.  Our colleagues on Level Two have supplied us with a list of known smugglers and contraband potion makers.  We are going to question them. Any of them who are guilty of supplying our target are potential accessories to murder. If they fail to co-operate they will pay the price.

 These are difficult times for us all but we have a job to do. Let’s do it!”