John Wolf was the best -- as partner, agent, and friend. With Preminger, he was all three. The agency took care of their men and their families, and when John was murdered during a very important case two years ago, the agency took responsibility for his orphaned daughter. But there was one problem: Joanna had been kidnapped by the very people her father had been investigating, to use as a tool against him. His death was kept secret to keep her alive, and the investigation went on. But now the group had been found and the agency men were closing in. Preminger was allowed in on the operation for the sole objective of getting Joanna out. He was an old friend, and would be able to handle her easier than a stranger, no matter how well-intentioned. It was imperative she be rescued, for the information she would have about these people and their operations, as well as being a ward of the agency. She was fourteen years old now.
"I need your help to get her out," Preminger concluded, his eyes fastened wearily on the dark road in front of him.
"She means a lot to you," Bennu observed.
"A lot? If my wife had ever had children..." His voice trailed off. "She couldn't pronounce my name when she was little, so I was always Uncle Jay. You wouldn't believe the red tape I had to fight to be allowed to be the one to go in after her."
"And you want me as insurance." Bennu smiled at the crooked grin and hasty nod the agent gave him. "John Wolf was a good friend for you to do so much for him."
"We were brothers. Blood brothers, by an old Indian ceremony. John was a full-blooded Indian, descended from Shamans, and the ceremony meant a lot to him. John Snow Wolf." Preminger shook his head, a fond, reminiscent expression on his face. "He was a born hunter. Instincts like you wouldn't ... well, maybe you would believe. Always claimed his bloodline had given him the ability. Magic, he called it."