"Okay. There's the Anderson place, according to the boss' briefing," said the driver, as he parked the car catty-corner down the street from their target, so they could still observe the local comings and goings but (hopefully) not be seen themselves.
"I'll sneak around the back and find a place to hide, in case Nate Anderson comes in the back way," recalled the passenger, while undoing his seat belt.
"Right. First one to spot him calls the other, and one way or another we make sure Jack Crawford and his lady gets their wish and NA misses the first day of school tomorrow," said the driver with a sinister smile on his face, as he settled back behind the wheel to wait.
MEANWHILE...
"As soon as Peter gets back from the... facilities, we'll have a good, heart to heart meeting between the four of us," said Leon Talbot to those gathered around the kitchen table.
"Shouldn't that be six?" asked Helen Thompkins, referring to the fact that everyone could hear Peter's sister Jean and her were-fiance Nate Anderson still going hot and heavy upstairs in her room celebrating their were-wedding.
"If necessary," agreed Leon, "but I like to think we can handle this by ourselves. The point I've been trying to make is that as long as my son is happy, I really don't care who he marries. But the fact that you're a were-rabbit and not a werelioness is going to cause problems for all of us down the road. I've been grooming my daughter to someday take over my position as the werelion representative on the Elders' Council, and Peter my position as the next Lion King. Yet there are those among the pride not as... progressive as myself who will see you becoming Mrs. Talbot as a sign of weakness and try to usurp the throne from him," Leon explained to Helen.
"Peter's told me all about the werelionesses who only courted him for the prestige of being with the Lion Prince and what that might mean for them down the road when he did become king," revealed Helen. "He does love me and I him."
"Of that I've never had any doubt," said Leon.
"I am truly starting to believe that myself," admitted Regina Talbot, mate of Leon. "The way Peter looks at you when he thinks no one else is looking, and the things you said he told you."
"Whatever your original plan Leon, why not reverse it?" asked Helen. "Let Jean become the next Lion Queen, since she is marrying another predator in the werewolf seriously rutting with her right now, and Peter eventually take your place on the Council."
"I've considered it, but there has never been a Queen in charge of the pride," began Leon, when Regina started staring at him, "outside the privacy of their own homes, that is," he quickly added to keep peace with his wife.
But whatever Regina or Helen was to say next was lost when suddenly Peter roared out "HELEN!"
With that one word, everyone in the kitchen got up and rushed to the downstairs bathroom.
They found the bathroom door open, and Peter crouching against the sink, trying his best to remain upright.
"What is it honey?" asked Helen, while moving to feel his furry forehead, since Peter was still in his werelion fursona to assist in the healing process after being shot.
Peter could only point at the toilet.
Doctor Thompkins looked and saw nothing but red water inside the bowl.
"Did it hurt when you urinated?" she asked.
"A little," he admitted.
"Is everything all right?" called out Jean Talbot, as the werelioness rushed downstairs after hearing the shout, with a werewolf following close behind.
"Peter doesn't seem to be running a fever, but red urine is NOT a good sign," answered Doctor Thompkins, taking charge of her patient once more. "It could just be a stone or, worst case scenario, a miniscule bullet fragment that might have been missed during the chaos of emergency surgery that somehow found its way into the urinary tract; but whatever the answer, we better get him back to the hospital. Someone call ahead and let them know we're coming," ordered the doctor, as she and Leon started ushering Peter discretely back to the Talbot family car so a werelion in broad daylight would hopefully not be seen.
ELSEWHERE...
"Old Man Johnson", as his neighbors privately referred to him, was enjoying the rare moment of peace and quiet afforded him by the entire Anderson family being away from home and no one inside rutting their furry tails off.
With his wife taking a nap in their bed, he was sitting by the open window reading, when he thought he heard a twig snap.
Curious, he looked out his second story window and saw someone prowling around the Anderson house, sneaking off toward their backyard.
Quickly, he got his cellphone out of his sweater pocket and dialed 911.
It took a couple of moments to convince the dispatcher that he was NOT calling with another noise complaint before the deputy promised to send someone out to investigate.