In a small rental car with tinted glass, Hilton follows Senator Lowenstein from the Capitol Building to his large home in Georgetown. There is a high spiked iron fence. Not very much security for a traitor like this, and no problem for Hilton in human form, but he isn’t so sure about the Werebear’s fence climbing skills with the long claws. After a few seconds, however. he somehow knows deep-down that it will work.

February. Full Moon Night

Last Full Moon, Hilton tried driving his car, and found the headroom situation required radial seat adjustment, which he repeats now. Earlier, at a big and tall store, he bought a large hooded nylon shell to cover him after the transformation and a complete wardrobe of other Werebear fashions. They really look baggy and stupid on him in human form.

Hilton will change soon, so the minute it’s dark he goes over the fence and hides in the bushes near the French doors to the Senator’s library. Eight minutes pass… here it comes. After three more minutes, Hilton is completely transformed. The Werebear stands up straight, smoothing the shirt against his ribs, “Not too bad” he thinks to himself.

The Werebear is lucky on this first run. In only twelve minutes a light comes on in the library. Through the bushes, he can see the senator enter, close the door behind him, and sit down at his large executive desk. He waits until the Senator starts his computer and is delighted to see him put on a pair of ear-surrounding headphones.

The Werebear moves very slowly and grasps the large lever type door knob. He pushes down and is amazed to find that the door is not locked. The senator’s position is such that the Werebear is able to enter without the senator seeing him, nor is it likely that the Senator will hear him.

When the Werebear is five feet away the Senator probably smells him, and suddenly turns with a shocked expression, reaches into his desk drawer, and pulls out an old Army Colt .45. Now the Werebear advances quickly, and as the Senator raises his arm to shoot, the Werebear impales the arm with a straight forward thrust of his right index finger claw, then with his left hand, gently takes the pistol from the stunned man. Now the Werebear pulls the headphones off the poor fellow’s head.

“Your fashionable career aspiration to devolve the human race ends here” says the Werebear in a low growl. At this point, the senator’s mouth is agape with astonishment.

Hilton withdraws the claw, wipes it clean with a paper towel he brought, and breaks the man’s neck with one hammer punch to the forehead. The senator crumples to the floor like an imploded building. No noise, little blood. The Werebear puts the Colt in his massive coat pocket, turns, and leaves quietly through the same door as he came.

The Werebear walks briskly away, and as he gets into the car says to himself, “This was almost too smooth. It will never be this easy again.” On the drive back, for future reference, he contemplates what he would have done at each step of this adventure if things had not gone at all smoothly.

The senator’s wife goes to the library and finds her husband at 10:00 P.M., his usual bedtime. The police forensic team concludes that the killer was a large man with a stiletto, wearing at least one article of bear fur clothing.

Hilton, watching the news coverage during breakfast, finds that he is unexpectedly pleased and thinks to himself,

“At first, I wanted all the executions to be identifiably a shapeshifter, for the strangeness and macabre fear factor, but there is a better political message in having the globalist traitors executed by plain old human patriots acting independently. It’s far more likely to inspire others to get involved.

“I was lucky with the claw being mistaken for a stiletto, but it won’t happen that way a second time. I need to use hand grasping, closed fist, and a complete plastic body mitten, with gloves to blunt the claws. I’m de-bearing the whole process, but at least if I get away, even video footage can’t identify me later.

“After I get back from Norway, I’m going to lose the Werebear permanently and use just a cool gauze mask in the future. I won’t be as strong, but weapons will offset that. Until the injection wear-off is complete, I’ll have to stay home at full moon. It’s strange how a fiery imagination with an atavistic berserker urge in service to liberty, could make things so much more complicated than they need to be. This will give me a good excuse to finally take up archery.”