He’d been tapping his foot impatiently for at least half an hour. We were in Jack’s white van, across the street from the house where we’d confirmed earlier in the day Chaz and some of the other Sunstrikers were currently using as their hideout. It was well past one in the morning. The combination of shitty sleep, lack of food, and stress from having to sit on my ass and wait while my target was so close I could practically smell his godforsaken aftershave, was hell on my nerves. We were supposed to wait until everyone was asleep, then use a combination of gasoline, Molotov cocktails, and a few flash grenades to light the place up. In theory, it would incapacitate or kill the bulk of the Weres, and the few who managed to crawl out from the flames would come right to us, weak from smoke inhalation and disoriented from the grenades. Adam, Bo, Jason, and I would take our positions at each side of the house to mow down any survivors who tried to escape. Nikki would be mobile, rushing to help whoever needed it most.
