Max paused for just a moment before hurriedly following the stairs up. He stopped at the next floor and opened the door slightly. He sniffed and listened intently from the stairwell. He heard silence from the hall, but as he concentrated, he was able to hear an argument coming from one of the apartments. It seemed that these apartments were of much higher quality than the one he and Amanda shared. Max couldn't smell Joe at all. He decided to go to each floor and check first, before deciding to head out onto each floor to check more thoroughly if he was unable to scent Joe. He needed to get this done before the other member's returned from the meeting with Mathew.

He continued up, checking each floor for any scent or sign of Joe. He'd reached the top floor and was about to resign himself to having to walk along the halls of each floor searching, when he found them.

He caught the faintest bit of Joe's scent on the top floor.

Max pursed his lips. He should have known that a Captain would live on the top floor of the building….

Of course, Max knew that there was a high likely-hood that other's lived on the floor as well.

He could smell a few wolves' scents. Each had strength that wasn't too shabby, signifying they were probably Captains rank as well.

Max stepped out onto the floor. He walked swiftly down the hall, following the scent. There were cameras around; he knew that if he wasn't already seen, then he would be soon.

He followed the scent to a door, and paused outside to listen.

Inside, he heard a shuffling and a groan.

He stepped back, readying himself.

Finally, he jumped forward and slammed his foot into the door, by the handle. The door gave little resistance before swinging open.

Max rushed in, only to stop short.

There, in the living room was Joe and the member of Jackson's pack that was his known associate in a…compromising position.

Homosexuality wasn't unheard of in the werewolf community, but it wasn't common. Though, it was possible for one to be gay, it was a very difficult position to be in. The fertility rates of werewolves were low. The sterility rates were high. Homosexuality was frowned on as a practice due to this. It was also difficult on the one that experienced it, as their instincts to procreate were incredibly strong and hard to ignore. So, even if one was in fact gay, they would still feel the urge to sleep with a female if that female was in season. Similarly, the wolf half was never in sync with the homosexuality of the human half. The wolf was almost entirely consumed by instinct. And the instinct to procreate was one of the strongest that a werewolf had. So, it wasn't something that was easy to live through, what with the disdain from the general community, along with an internal struggle originating from the wolf.

Max didn't pause for long, before jumping into action. His bag slid from his shoulder in a fluid motion.

He grabbed Joe and threw him away, then, he hurried to stomp on top of the other wolf's head, disorientating him.

He turned back, to find that Joe was rushing toward him. Max pulled a knife from his waist and met Joe head on.

Max didn't like guns. They were loud and he wasn't very good with them. He preferred to fight with a knife or, better yet, with his fists.

As Joe approached, he tried to avoid the large knife in Max's hand, but Max had a lot of practice fighting in this style. He swept it out in a slow and deliberate motion before suddenly slicing back fast and severe.

Usually, he'd play it relatively safe. He'd take his time, making sure not to endanger himself. He'd start out with slow, methodical, easy to block and avoid slashes and swipes, then suddenly change his pace and slowly wear his opponent down. He'd pressure them to exhaust them mentally and physically.

But, he didn't have that luxury now. He needed Joe dead as soon as possible. So, he attacked with his right hand, getting Joes attention. Trapping him between the wall and himself so he couldn't run, then, he moved in close.

Joe struck out, trying to force Max's knife away while simultaneously pushing him to the side. Max's other hand pulled his second knife from his waist and stabbed it into Joe's side. He didn't waste time and quickly pulled it out to slam it into him again. Joe cried out, and began to panic.

Max's other knife shifted and he brought it to Joe's stomach. Max used his momentum to push Joe back, using his foot to trip him and bring him down. Behind him, Joe's lover raced to get to his feet to help.

Max jumped away from Joe and brought both knifes forward to stab into the other man's torso. He hit a lung, but as long as the man was able to get medical attention in time, he shouldn't die. Max stepped away, back to Joe. He was struggling to stand, but Max brought his knife to his throat, not hesitating in the least as he slid it across, causing a red waterfall to rush out.

He stepped away, shoving his knives back at his waist, then opened his bag. Inside was a single hatchet.

He stepped to Joe and immediately brought the small hatchet down on his neck. Blood sprayed, but Max was used to the familiar sensation and scent. It brought a saveage excitement to the front of his mind. He felt his body humming from the physical exertion and the scent of blood and feeling of the bones crushing beneath the hatchets force.

It took three swings for him to separate Joe's head from his body.

Max wasted no time. He gathered the head and shoved it into his pack before rushing out of the room. His senses were on high alert. He heard voices and footsteps coming from down the hall, from the direction of the stairwell and elevator.

He paused for a moment, concentrating. He found that most were coming from the elevator, but they seemed to be mostly Frontlinesmen, while those rushing from the stairs were higher ranking members.

Max made his decision and began toward the stairs. He'd be a sitting duck in the elevator, at least with the stairs he had more space to fight.

He rushed forward, it wasn't long before he saw the source of the voices.

Three men rushed toward him, one with a pistol drawn.

Max held his hands up in a surrendering pose and slowed his pace.

The men looked fearsome, scowling at him as he walked forward. They looked to each other, unsure.

As Max grew closer, his lips pulled into a grin. He was almost in range to take the man with the gun down.

"Did you guys know that Joe and your boy were fucking?"

He didn't wait for them to respond. He stepped even closer.

"Seeing your reactions, I guess you did." His grin grew to a sneer. "I always heard that Jackson's pack members were close…I didn't know you guys were that close." He laughed.

One member's face grew ferocious as he growled and stepped forward to grab Max. Max easily avoided him, knocking his arm aside and positioning the man between himself and the shooter. As the one with the gun was taking-in the change of positions, Max pushed the man in his grasp forward roughly, slamming him into the would be shooter. The man knocked him off his balance, which is what Max wanted.

Max bolted forward. It was a few meters to the stairs. He avoided the third man's grasp and continued to run.

He heard a shot and felt a pain in his shoulder as he reached the stair well door. He threw it open as another shot rang out, just missing his head.

Max ran down the stairs, jumping over the railing occasionally.

When he heard the door open above him, he hurried to get beside the wall and beneath their location.

He heard them talking on a phone, telling the person on the other line that he was in the stairwell.

Max knew he needed to get out.

They ran for two flights of stairs before Max heard the door for the floor below open. He made the decision to hurriedly leave the stairwell. He opened the door for the fourth floor and ran. He knew where he wanted to go. He'd planned multiple escapes before even entering the building. He ran with all his strength. The seconds ticked by like hours. He needed to move faster.

He heard the door open behind him. He threw himself sideways, hoping to make it harder to hit him. He heard another shot ring out, with no accompanying pain. Must have missed.

Finally, he turned the corner to find a long hallway with a window at the end of it. He rushed forward.

His heart beat was loud in his ears as he ran. He pushed his legs to go faster, even just a little bit faster.

He heard someone yell out behind him. He kept going, not looking back. Looking back would slow him down. Slowing down could kill him.

He jumped a few feet from the window. Legs first, he felt the window give a bit of resistance before cracking and shattering away. Max felt the glass scrape against his back, drawing blood. He looked toward the street as he fell; not paying any mind to the pain in his shoulder and back.

Below, a semi full dumpster sat. He tried to aim his fall into it.

He landed on the hard contents. He didn't pause as he rolled over and hoisted himself out of the dumpster. He jumped, landing on his feet. He was off again.