"If I'm hearing you right, your current plan is to get everyone killed?"

Almost as one, every head bent over the exam table they were using to plan their counter attack against Gerard 'Evil Grandpa' Argent and his minions turned to glare at Peter. He could care less about their annoyance, because they were hopelessly outmatched honestly, even with the waves of reinforcements that had arrived the previous night.

Small waves, but slightly better than nothing.

"It's the best shot we have," Angry Baby Beta protested, bristling at the perceived insult to Scott's plan.

The fact that Peter was definitely insulting the plan didn't matter. Sometimes he wondered how this group of children had ever bested his own plans...okay, it probably didn't hurt that until recently he'd still been dealing with bouts of post fire coma/death craziness and brain damage, but still it was insulting.

"So you want me to believe that our best shot is hoping you two walking balls of hormones and anger issues can keep from fucking and or killing each other long enough to fool the super paranoid hunters into thinking the whole pack is at an abandoned zoo...and when that fails everyone else goes on an obvious suicide mission to attack Evil Grandpa's heavily fortified and booby trapped armory?" Peter asked, them jabbed a finger at the only sane Argent left alive. "See, even he agrees with me. You can tell because he looks even more like a human personification of a stress migraine than usual."

Malia let out a low growl. "Not like you have a better idea."

"Actually, I do," Peter retorted, which seemed to startled the assembled masses. "Curly, The Hacker, FireFox, AberKanima and Twunk Wolf over there might be your idea of back up, but I actually plan on surviving this. I called in a favor from an old...acquaintance. He's a bastard and his blood is 82% Jameson's but he has a team..."

"Not that anyone is going to listen to me, but I want to stress again that I am not comfortable with the number of mysterious animal mailings that happen in this town," Alec said, once again scrolling through the data he had compiled on Beacon Hills California. Someone from Nate's past had called asking for help and after the older man had muttered for a while about the caller being an asshole, the team had piled into Lucille and Eliot's truck and headed south.

"The town is surrounded by a giant nature preserve, Hardison," Nate pointed out, but that only made him snort.

"Lots of towns in wooded areas have preserves, but most of those places don't have a history that would make Stephen King look around and say, 'Hmmm, I should set my next book here!' Why does a small town have a rundown warehouse district and an abandoned subway line? A subway to where? No one seems to know or have records! I can find records about the town's extra creepy asylum and also a very well hidden WWII era Japanese internment camp that ended in a massacre. Nana would slap me upside the head for messing with this."

Over the comm, Eliot rumbled, "Relax, hardison, it's probably just werewolves."

"Real nice. Mock my totally legitimate concerns. It'll serve y'all right if I leave you to the murderous sewer clowns," Hardison said, then reached over to pat Parker's hand. "Not you. I got you girl."

Parker however didn't seem too perturbed. "I can take a clown out," she said confidently, then asked, "Werewolves?"

Because of course.

"Sure. They're understandably not big on cities,". Eliot replied. "Most are all right, but there are some shitheads in every group."

"So, like people, but furrier," she decided with a nod.

Alec decided her was gonna let Eliot deal with Parker's disappointed face when she found out there weren't any werewolves in Beacon Hills.

There were god damn werewolves in Beacon Hills.

TBC….