4. Chapter 4 - Matt
The transport descended through storm clouds two hours after sunset.
Matt noticed the change in altitude instantly. The steady vibration beneath the aircraft shifted as the engines throttled back, and the subtle pressure inside the cabin changed just enough to pull everyone’s attention toward the windows without anybody openly acknowledging it.
Across from him, one of the wolf operatives locked a rifle magazine into place with quiet mechanical precision while everyone else settled deeper into silence.
Whatever calm had existed earlier in the flight was gone now, replaced by the tense restraint of people close enough to danger that nobody saw a reason to waste energy pretending otherwise.
Nobody looked relaxed anymore, including Baptiste.
That realization unsettled Matt more than he wanted to admit.
Up until now, Baptiste had carried himself with the same dry amusement and effortless confidence he seemed to bring into every room, like very little in the world genuinely worried him.
Seeing that ease disappear beneath the dim red cabin lights made the mission feel suddenly heavier and more real.
Matt looked away before anyone noticed the shift in his expression and focused instead on the storm outside the aircraft, though the uneasy feeling remained lodged inside his chest. If Baptiste was tense, then whatever waited beneath that monastery was dangerous enough that even experienced predators respected it.
The red cabin lights cast long shadows across the interior while the pilot’s voice crackled through the headset system. “Approaching Romanian airspace. Weather conditions at insertion point remain unstable. Estimated ground arrival in eighteen minutes.”
Matt adjusted the headset against one ear before glancing toward the nearest window.
At first he saw nothing except storm clouds and darkness shifting endlessly beyond the glass.
Then lightning flashed somewhere far below the aircraft, illuminating the landscape beneath them in a violent burst of white.
The mountains appeared for barely half a second before darkness swallowed them again.
Jagged peaks tore through the storm like the spine of something ancient buried beneath the earth while endless forest swallowed the valleys between them in dense unbroken shadows.
Even from this altitude the wilderness looked untouched in the worst possible way, vast and hostile enough that Matt quickly understood how entire villages once disappeared into places like this without anyone ever finding them again.
Then the lightning vanished.
Darkness consumed everything almost instantly, leaving only Matt’s reflection staring faintly back at him through the glass.
He kept watching the window a moment longer than necessary before exhaling softly. “Well,” he muttered, “that looks cursed.”
Baptiste glanced sideways. “It is Romania.”
“That feels culturally offensive somehow.”
“It also feels accurate.”
Matt sighed and leaned back into the harness while the aircraft banked sharply through another pocket of turbulence.
The sudden movement rattled equipment overhead hard enough to draw several irritated looks from the rear compartment as loose straps and metal clasps shuddered against the cargo racks.
Keene, meanwhile, did not move at all.
He remained perfectly still near the opposite side of the cabin despite the turbulence violently shaking the aircraft around him, calm enough that Matt was beginning to suspect the laws of physics simply respected him on a personal level.
A moment later the pilot’s voice crackled back through the headset system.
“Ground team confirms perimeter remains intact. No additional movement detected around the monastery.”
Matt shifted his weight. “No additional movement,” he repeated. “That wording is deeply concerning.”
From a few rows ahead, Vale answered without looking up from her tablet. “It should be.”
Matt glanced toward her. Unlike everyone else onboard, she somehow looked more focused the closer they got to the target. Matt was beginning to understand that not every predator hunted the same way.
Some hunted because they enjoyed it. Those ones carried danger loosely, almost casually, like violence was simply another instinct they had stopped apologizing for years ago.
Others hunted because they believed someone had to. Vale very clearly belonged to the second category.
There was nothing reckless about her. Every movement seemed measured, controlled, and heavy with responsibility in ways Matt recognized instantly from military leadership.
She carried herself like someone who understood exactly what danger cost and intended to face it anyway because leaving other people to deal with it was not an option she could live with.
“We’ll establish a temporary command post approximately one kilometer from the excavation site,” she continued. “Local authorities have already been redirected away from the area through Council channels. Civilian interference should remain minimal.”
“Should,” Matt repeated.
Vale looked at him evenly across the dim cabin lights. “If I could guarantee certainty in this line of work, Mr. Reynolds, I would not need operatives.”
Matt leaned back in the harness. “That somehow feels less reassuring every time you people talk.”
Baptiste glanced sideways. “You continue expecting reassurance from predators. That may be part of the problem.”
A faint sound interrupted the conversation before anyone could respond. Scratching.
Matt's expression grew serious on instinct as the noise threaded noticeably through the constant drone of the engines, subtle enough that a human probably would have ignored it completely. Unfortunately, nobody inside the aircraft was entirely human.
The noise came again several seconds later, quiet but distinct beneath the vibration of the aircraft. Something scraped lightly across metal somewhere near the rear of the aircraft, uneven enough that it did not sound mechanical.
Every predator inside the cabin reacted at once.
The change happened almost invisibly, but Matt still caught it immediately. Posture tightened. Attention sharpened. Several operatives adjusted their grip on their weapons without seeming consciously aware they were doing it.
The atmosphere inside the aircraft changed in an instant.
Matt could feel his hyena rise hard into alertness while Baptiste lifted his head toward the rear cargo section, his expression losing what little amusement it had carried earlier.
Then the scratching stopped.
Silence lingered heavily across the cabin afterward, thick enough that even the engine noise suddenly seemed distant.
Matt looked toward Keene. “Please tell me that was normal aircraft noise.”
Keene did not answer instantly.
Which was already a terrible sign.
“No.”
“That is the opposite answer I wanted.”
One of the wolf operatives stood near the rear compartment. “Cargo restraint might’ve shifted.”
Nobody sounded convinced.
Vale’s expression never changed. “Check it.”
The operative nodded once before moving toward the rear of the aircraft with controlled caution. Another operative followed close behind while the rest of the cabin remained unnaturally still.
Matt listened carefully as the first wolf operative approached the rear cargo section. The aircraft engines droned steadily beneath the silence while metal clasps shifted somewhere near the storage racks, followed a second later by the sharp click of a restraint lock disengaging.
Then nothing happened, and the silence afterward stretched several seconds too long.
Matt sensed the tension spread through the cabin as every predator onboard listened for movement that never came.
“Everything secure?” Vale asked from the front of the aircraft.
“Yeah,” the operative answered after a pause. “Probably turbulence.”
Nobody relaxed afterward, including the operative who had checked the cargo restraints. Even after securing the latch and returning to his seat, the wolf carried a faint stiffness through his shoulders, and his attention kept drifting back toward the cargo section.
Matt noticed it, and unfortunately so did the predator beneath his skin.
He exchanged a brief glance with Baptiste before lowering his voice. “See? That pause right there was deeply suspicious.”
Baptiste leaned back against the fuselage without looking particularly concerned. “You find most things suspicious.”
“We are trapped inside a military aircraft flying toward a haunted murder monastery in the middle of the Romanian mountains while something scratches in the cargo hold,” Matt replied. “I feel like my suspicion levels are appropriately calibrated.”
“That is fair.”
Across the cabin, Keene finally looked up from the tablet in his hands. “Your definition of appropriately calibrated remains questionable.”
Matt pointed toward him immediately. “See? That was suspiciously timed too.”
“It was observational.”
“That is somehow worse.”
The exchange earned a few restrained smirks from the operatives nearby, though the tension inside the cabin never fully disappeared. Even the brief humor hung thin around the edges, like everybody onboard understood they were still only one strange noise away from drawing weapons again.
The aircraft gradually descended deeper through the storm layer while rain hammered violently against the windows hard enough to blur the landscape below into shifting shadows and fractured light.
Turbulence rolled through the fuselage in uneven waves as the pilot guided the transport between mountain peaks hidden somewhere beneath the clouds.
Another flash of lightning illuminated the terrain below them.
This time Matt caught sight of ruins scattered across one of the distant ridgelines far beneath the aircraft.
Crumbling stone walls and the broken remains of towers emerged from the darkness for only a moment before the storm swallowed them again, leaving behind the brief impression of something ancient being reclaimed by the forest surrounding it.