SYN Consulting

Prologue

Kyoto, Japan

Nakamura Industries Corporate

Headquarters

2077

There was a time on earth when humans, as primitive as they are, thought they were the smartest life forms on the planet—and maybe at one point they were. Humans still believe that, or at least most of them, but nearly ten millennia ago dragons arrived. The dragons had fled their home world, spreading out across the galaxy through great magical portals. Overpopulation and over-extraction of their planet’s resources had caused their planet to deteriorate around them.

The dragons' arrival on earth is when my Alpha’s story begins. All the events between then and now, and all the decisions made, have brought us to where we are today. I’m writing this chronicle so the future generations can look back and understand. Understand how things were during those very first days of the second war with the humans.

There are archives detailing the history of the dragons, and one could spend years upon years lost in the depths of that knowledge, but for now, I’ll share just our origins.

When dragons arrived, they spread across the planet, settling in areas rich in metals. These were the elements that were integral for maintaining their magical abilities, and thus, their lives. This metal affinity enabled the dragons to manipulate it, regardless of physical touch, in any fashion they wanted. They can extract it from rock, combine it with other materials to create alloys or create anything from their imagination. Each dragon has a metal that resonates with them more strongly than others. It, therefore, becomes the most important to that dragon.

Due to the lower life forms’ non-telepathic nature, the dragons were unable to communicate with them, so the dragons kept to themselves. The few humans they came in contact with either worshipped them or tried to kill them. Dragons recognized that humans would eventually rule over the earth just by their sheer numbers and the rate they reproduced. Needing a way to communicate with humans and a buffer between them, the dragon council came up with a plan to create another species.

They created us.

We became their emissaries: a species that transformed between animal and human forms seamlessly. They fused animal and human DNA using their magic and blood. Trial and error, and hundreds of years of breeding, created a species that could transform between what the dragons considered their true forms and a human form.

They created us to defend, act as diplomats or assassins, and to scout and spy for them. We were cataloged into four types based on our function: Sicarius, Legatus, Inquisitor, and Praeses. These roles brought about the term we determined for ourselves and what the dragons would later adopt—SLIPs.

The dragons originally had long names for us from their—now—ancient language, that was never taught to the SLIPs. Since we were the buffer between them and humanity, it was more important to teach us human languages. The most prominent human language at the time was Latin and therefore learned by all SLIPs and dragons.

They used animal species best suited to these roles, like bears, wolves, saber-tooth tigers, and even ospreys. The ancient species were larger and fierce. Many varied species were tested and created based on intelligence of the original animal. Smaller species were later added, like foxes, falcons, and leopards for their speed and stealth. They enhanced our natural healing, senses, intelligence, and longevity. We evolved to look like our current animal counterparts to help maintain our camouflage.

At first, the dragons cared and provided for the emissaries they created. We were as educated as any dragon would be. Despite their avoidance of humans, the dragons learned all they could about them, primarily their history and language. Now they were able to communicate with the humans, so the dragons interacted more with them. They shaped the metals they took from the earth and exchanged their crafts for things they wanted or needed from the humans.

Unbeknownst to the human population, dragons were responsible for most of the world’s metal supply. They were careful to hide how they extracted the metal and how they made the goods. But that did not stop humans from discovering ways of extracting metals from the earth.

Humans—being who they were—did not like the control dragons had. They wanted more and more. Their greed took over. Dragons only extracted what was needed, fearing a repeat of history from their home world. This led to the first war between the dragons and the humans.

Even though the dragons won the war, they lost territory along with an entire clan of dragons and many SLIP lives. As a result, dragons took a strategic step backward, going further into hiding, staying within the territories they had left. They also used their magic to transform into a human form to hide from future generations of humans.

Their presence on earth fell into myth and legend.

For all the animosity I have for dragons at times, I believe they try to do the right thing for the welfare of this planet. They have tried to steer humans, behind the scenes, away from things that will destroy the planet. They have worked to create alternative energy sources to lessen the human’s need to abuse and take the planet for granted continually. Even with their efforts, humans continued to let their greed lead them into the future.

At the point in time when these chronicles begin, the dragon population has dwindled as the birthrate continues to decline. But the SLIP population has grown exponentially. There are currently only eleven dragon clans left in the world, and maybe twenty different bloodlines. At this rate they only have a few millennia left. In the last several hundred years, SLIPs have seen more abandonment by the dragons than ever before. Many dragons still hold SLIPs in high regard, but they have continued to leave us to fend for ourselves.

When my alpha was born, so too was hope. Not only for dragons but SLIPs as well.

Ichirou Nakamura

Chapter One

Toronto, Canada

Wednesday, 4 th August, 2027

Early Morning

Kollin ended the video call, stood, and started pacing. He stopped in front of the window of his high-rise office, taking in all the information he just received. Frustration coursed through him, settling in a knot in his stomach. He clenched his jaw. They were so close to ending the threat to his brothers’ clan and then this shit happens. With a deep breath to calm his ire, he walked back to his desk and hit the intercom. Darla, call Andrew into the office, please.

Kollin returned to the window and looked out at the city while he waited. Ancestors help him. He hated this city. He longed to get back home to Oslo. He sighed again, wishing for simpler times. A few minutes later there was a knock, and the door opened. Kollin moved to his wet bar and poured two glasses of scotch before facing Andrew, his current COO and Second in command.

Andrew cocked an eyebrow at him as if questioning what had warranted drinking this early in the morning. Then again, they were still mostly on Oslo time. Andrew shrugged as he accepted the glass.

We have a big problem. Andrew’s gaze shot to Kollin.

He took a slow drink before continuing, savoring the smooth burn. I just got off the phone with Scotland Yard. Jeffery Waters was killed in a car accident last night, and the accident is under investigation. Eyewitnesses say the car was forced off the road. The negotiations are in a week and a half. Kollin sighed. We need to find someone to replace him or else all the time spent on this in the last year will be for nothing.

Andrew sat in the overstuffed leather chair, sipping the scotch with his legs crossed for several minutes. Then he stood, downed the rest of the glass, and went to sit at Kollin’s desk. Andrew tapped the glass surface embedded on top of the stainless-steel desk. It’s a long shot, but I have an idea. Remember a couple of months ago when Russia was going to back out of the new environmental edicts because they were going to lose too much money?

Kollin nodded. He’d kept a close watch on it since the new accords affected his businesses. Russia was balking because they liked the stranglehold they currently held over most of Western Europe regarding natural gas.

Andrew continued, It was kept out of the media, but it’s known among the conference attendees that the French delegation hired an independent firm to evaluate the cost benefits for each country represented to ensure the new policies were put into place. Apparently, the independent evaluation of Russia showed they would profit from the edicts if they made some additional changes. The representative of the firm spoke before the council and explained their evaluation so well it changed not only Russia’s mind but also Turkey’s. Of course, where Russia went, so too did Turkey.

He turned the glass panel monitor around so Kollin could see the page he brought up. A headshot of an attractive woman in a business suit with dark red hair, green eyes, and lightly tanned skin. Next to the small picture was her name and title, Danica Lestrange, CEO SYN Consulting, and a short bio. She looked young, maybe in her mid-twenties. Based on how long her company had been in business, she couldn’t be the founder.

Her?

Andrew nodded.

She convinced Russia to agree to the new accords?

Andrew nodded again.

Kollin was skeptical, but she seemed respected and must have big brass balls in order to bring Russia to heel the way she had. Even if she weren’t cute, I’d have to meet her just for that. You’re sure she’ll be able to pull it off or, for that matter, agree?

Andrew shrugged. You don’t know unless you ask, right?

Kollin sighed. You’re right.

Andrew clicked on the Contact Us link. Hmmm, she’s based out of France. It’s one p.m. there, right now.

Kollin motioned for Andrew to stand up. Once he took his seat and turned the panel back around, he tapped the number link to start the call. After a few beeps, a smooth, deep voice answered without the video. Instead, a picture of the front of an office with SYN Consulting on the glass door filled the screen.

Bonjour, SYN Consulting, the young French-accented male voice answered.

Yes, do you speak English? Kollin’s French was barely passable, and the last thing he wanted was to insult them with it. Languages were not one of his strengths.

Yes, Monsieur. How may I help you?

This is Kollin Olsen, CEO of KleanTech Industries. May I speak with Ms. Lestrange, please? Kollin tried not to fidget.

I apologize, Monsieur, but Mademoiselle Lestrange is unavailable. If you like, I can schedule a time for her to call you back. Unfortunately, she has a busy schedule, and she won’t be able to call you for at least two weeks from now.

Kollin’s jaw tensed. He didn’t need this kind of pretentious bullshit right now. And that’s precisely what this was. A strategic play to put a potential client on the defensive and make them feel grateful when they eventually took the call. Years of practice kept his face neutral. The receptionist could see Kollin while he remained hidden behind the picturesque scene. That too was another tactic. If he weren’t so annoyed about it, he might have admired the little tricks most people wouldn’t even consider as anything more than normal. Despite his growing irritation, he was starting to respect this Danica person just a little bit.

The guy was doing his job and didn’t deserve his wrath. Is there any way I can speak with her or someone else immediately? I have an emergency that I need your company’s specialization for. Kollin hated sounding even the least bit desperate, but well, he was.

Please hold, Monsieur, while I check with her assistant.

Kollin nodded as Queen’s We Are the Champions played over the line. He wondered if that was just coincidence or orchestrated. As the minutes ticked by, he became more impatient. He tried to tap into his long-disused military training to maintain his calm demeanor. Ten minutes and more Queen Classics passed without a word from the receptionist. He shifted his weight and tapped his fingers on his desk. Kollin was starting to think they’d forgotten about him, but this was just another power play. He was about to hang up and call again when the screen flashed and filled with the image of the woman he had looked at earlier, but not as professional.

Her high ponytail showed off the shaved sides of her head. She looked slightly out of breath and had a sheen of sweat on her face while little wisps of hair clung to her forehead. He only saw her head and shoulders and the top part of her black t-shirt with a towel wrapped around her neck. A woman hadn’t piqued Kollin’s in a long time. But something about her—even in her disheveled state—sparked nervousness in him, forcing him to straighten in his chair.

Mr. Olsen, I apologize for keeping you waiting, but as you can see, I was indisposed. Kollin focused behind her and saw the side of a boxing ring, but not much else in his limited view.

I normally wouldn’t have taken an unscheduled call, but my receptionist said you had an emergency that only we could handle. She spoke in a smooth, even American accent that had French undertones and cadence.

Stunned by how beautiful she was—her picture had not done her justice—Kollin barely registered her words. She had vibrant dark green eyes framed by high sculpted eyebrows. The delicate curve of her eyes revealed a partial Asian ancestry. Kollin was lost in her eyes. He stopped from physically shaking himself out of his stupor and chastised himself for staring like some idiot who’d never seen a beautiful woman before. Yes. Yes, thank you for taking my call. We are in quite a bind.

Danica nodded.

Yes, right. KleanTech has been working the last several months on an important merger with Global Gas. The final negotiations start on the sixteenth, but the gentleman handling them was killed in a car accident last night in London. We hope that you'd be willing to take over.

Danica’s face remained passive. I’m sorry, Mr. Olsen, but that’s extremely short notice. It usually takes at least a month to prepare for something like that.

Everything is already prepared, Kollin shot back trying to keep his tone even. He didn’t want to reveal how frustrated he was since it wasn’t necessarily her he was frustrated with.

No offense, but I do all of my own research and analysis on both companies before entering any kind of negotiations. All of that takes time. Her face was cool, even, and controlled. It almost irritated him more, but showing that would not help him in the least at this juncture.

Kollin saw the intelligence behind the calculating look that her passivity couldn’t hide. He had to figure out which buttons to push to get her to say yes. I understand, Ms. Lestrange, but I cannot afford for this deal to be delayed or to fall through. If it’s a matter of money, just name your price. Kollin gestured with his right hand in the air, dismissing any question of money as an obstacle.

It’s not a matter of money. Danica looked insulted for a fraction of a second. It’s a matter of being prepared to ensure complete success for both companies. Danica toweled off the new sweat that had accumulated on her forehead and shifted her stance. Why is it not possible to simply delay the negotiations due to this tragedy?

Kollin hesitated, wondering how much to tell her. There are certain projects that are very time-sensitive.

Danica arched a sculpted brow. Why is KleanTech, the leader in alternative energy solutions, buying a fracking company? Before you answer me, Mr. Olsen, think carefully. If you lie to me, I will find out. I will then withdraw any aid.

Kollin tried to keep his expression neutral, but he knew the muscle in his jaw was twitching as he ground his teeth. He hadn’t expected that kind of blunt interrogation. Usually, he was the one making demands of people. Although he should have expected that kind of strength from the person who quelled Russia—the Russian Energy Director was a right bastard.

"You called me for a reason, Mr. Olsen. I am the best in the industry, and if anyone can pull this off in time, it is me. So, either you’re honest with me, or this call ends." Her voice remained deceptively non-threatening, but her eyes bore into him with a hint of annoyance.

Kollin was irritated at her arrogance and matter-of-fact attitude, but even more so at the fact she was right. But he needed her more than he wanted to hang up on her. He also didn’t understand why she was getting to him so much. Yes, she was arrogant, but so was he. Maybe it was the urge he had to lick her lips and stop her talking—those perfect lips not marred by lipstick. With a sigh, he dragged his gaze from her mouth, back to her eyes, which didn’t help in lowering his rising heart rate. His body and mind battled between the attraction he felt and the need to be in control of the situation. Hoping she didn’t see the battle, he answered, Global Gas is trying to start a new project in Northern Canada that I cannot let happen. It would have dire environmental consequences.

So, you’re going to buy the company and dismantle it? Why not just stage a hostile takeover and be done with it? Her eyebrow arched again like she saw right through his flimsy reasons. And why the hell did she have to have such perfect Vulcan eyebrows in the first place?

We’re not dismantling the company. We don’t want them to know that we know about the project. They’re hiding it, or at least trying to. We’re proposing the merger under the guise of improving the fracking process with tech we’ve been developing that will increase productivity while making the entire process cleaner.

Danica nodded, her face still neutral. Does the tech actually exist?

Yes. Kollin nodded.

What date is the project set to start?

August thirty-first.

Danica pursed her lips. So, I’ll have two weeks once negotiations start to complete the merger and stop the project?

Yes. Kollin tried not to grimace at the short timetable.

The left side of Danica’s lips curled upward