Free Web NovelChapter 329: Chapter 329 Parade Of Wolves
Ethan
Father calls it a "community touchpoint," which is how he says parade without tipping the word. The message hits my phone at 9am; square at 7pm, open house, Lizzy to speak about scholarships and "continuity." PR adds a run-of-show and two approved captions. I forward the packet to Ops and start moving pieces before the day decides them for me.
’Hold the room, move the pieces,’ Blake says.
"On it," I answer.
Ops board, 09:20. I pin a new strip across the top; Event Cover, Square 5pm - 7pm. Under it; Border coverage; elevated. I pull the patrol grid and shift weight to the south ridge and the river turns because Darius likes edges and water. Gamma Fallon gets south ridge command with Patrol Three and Five stacked and a drone loop at +15/+45; ward checks at S7/S8 at :40 past. North and west get normal cycles with a roving pair to keep people honest.
Daniel slides in with a tablet and a face that already knows. "The forum is warming up," he says. "Half the comments are cake, half are knives. Mods have the knives on a timer."
"Pin the conduct banner on anything mentioning names," I say. "Auto-ban slurs. No anonymous posts after 4.30pm."
"Copy," he says. "Do you want cameras at the event?"
"Ops records for archive but no pack stream," I say. "PR can push stills later. I’ll announce it at the mic once so people don’t pretend surprise."
He taps notes as fast as I talk. "Security?"
"Bag checks the light," I say. "No signs on sticks and no open containers on the square. The staff lot stays closed and if the hooked triple-line shows up on anything, it goes straight to Audit. No one opens cream envelopes."
He grins without humor. "Cream is my new favorite color."
"Make it boring," I say. "That’s the goal."
He leaves with a nod and a speed I trust. I text Ezra and Elijah; Square at 5pm. Father’s show, we keep it clean. Cones and inside-trip block at the gym at 5.15pm to give the restless wolves a place to be. Ezra replies with x12 cones and a thumbs-up. Elijah sends a copy and then, a beat later, I’ll be civil.
I ping Allison.
Me; Recommendation to teach the 5:15pm block with Ezra. Less chance of you being used as someone’s prop. Your call.
Her dots appear.
Allison; Agreed. I’ll run frames and exits. Send anyone who needs a place to put energy.
Another bubble. Good luck.
"Luck is for people who didn’t write a plan," I mutter, and go write a little more of the plan.
Access/Travel; lock the library side door at 4.55pm, open the gym east exit to place two ushers at the path to redirect friendly gawkers who think rehearsal looks like a lobby.
Risk: notify Silver Mist that we’re dealing with a local optics event; add a watch flag on the sigil in case someone thinks cream paper is an RSVP.
Wardroom: sweep the square at 4pm and test the mesh to recalibrate the lamppost wards we tied in after last winter’s stunt with fireworks.
Mother meets me at the private dining room with a garment bag and a quiet smile. "Navy," she says, passing me a tie. "Neutral shoes. Leave room in your face for people who need the photo more than you do."
"I’ll give them the photo," I say. "I won’t give them a script."
"That’s my son," she says, proud and resigned at once. freēwēbnovel.com
Father arrives five minutes before the run-of-show with Alpha James, Luna Janet, and Lizzy in a dress that hits the exact note PR wanted, competent, calm, and not trying too hard. He shakes the right hands in the right order, gives mother space to curate the edges, and pretends this is about scholarships, which it partly is. The other part is a frame he wants the pack to step into without seeing the corners.
"Two minutes," PR says in my ear. "Housekeeping up top?"
"I’ll take it," I answer.
At 4.59pm, I step to the small mic at the edge of the platform. "Good evening," I say. "A couple of reminders, you’ll see cameras as Ops is recording for the archive. We’ll share stills later. No personal streaming. Code of Conduct applies, harassment earns a ban. If you need to move energy, the gym has an open block at 7.15pm."
That gets a small laugh and a few grateful looks from parents who came for the food tents and not the speeches. I nod to PR. "Alpha Jack," I say, and step back.
Father takes center like it’s an old habit, which it is. He welcomes the pack, thanks vendors, gestures to Alpha James, and says "continuity" three times in sentences that sound different and mean the same thing. Lizzy speaks about grants and study skills. She is poised and kind and she doesn’t look at me until the applause, and even then it’s a professional glance that says she knows the room better than most.
As mother guides people into clusters the camera understands, I stand where I’m supposed to, one step left of father, one step behind James for the set with the map. The shooter gets the shots he came for, the four leaders leaning over a board, Lizzy with the scholarship folder, a wide pullback with the pack in soft focus behind us.
’Hate it all you want,’ Blake says. ’Just don’t let the hate write your hands.’
’My hands are fine,’ I answer. ’My stomach can file a complaint later.’
On the square’s far edge, I catch a flash of Tamsin with two rookies headed down the path toward the gym. Good. Ezra and Allison will keep them out of trouble. I see Daniel near the food tent performing the kind of surveillance that looks like choosing a cookie while two kids race across the lawn. An elder sits with a plate and watches like she earned the right to sit while the rest of us spin.
The photos finish on schedule, because mother keeps time like a conductor. Father adds one more small set I didn’t approve of, me and Lizzy at the edge of the platform, just the two of us with the gazebo behind. I keep my face neutral and my shoulders square. The camera clicks. Twice. Three times. It will be a good image. It will make me hate the way honesty sometimes looks like endorsement.
PR takes the mic for an announcement about the book tent and the pie auction. I step off the platform and check my phone. Ops: S7/S8 green, drone loop clear. No cream at mail. Gym: Block at capacity; exits clean, energy down. Forum: Two mutes, one ban and the banner pinned.
Elijah sidles up on my left with a paper cup of lemonade he doesn’t drink. His eyes are darker at the rim, Loki close but not forward. "You okay?" he asks, quiet.
"I’m present," I say. "That’s the job."
He huffs a breath that could be a laugh if the room were different. "Allison kept three hotheads busy with cones and a clock. No one came here to pick a fight because they were tired."
"Good," I say. "Tell her I’m stealing her sign-in trick for morning drills."
He bumps my shoulder with two fingers, his version of I hear you, and peels away before father can decide to use him.
