Greg stroked his chin thoughtfully as he drove down the highway out of town, one hand on the wheel as he headed for Vince’s. He’d been called up on a matter of some importance, as his expertise was needed, and that could only mean one thing.
He sighed, putting his other hand back on the wheel, keeping the truck pointed northward. It had to be something reasonably big. Were he asked to take up arms and fight, could he do it again? If his son or Trish were involved, there would be no question. But as Jasper hadn’t alerted him to anything, he could only assume that Trish was fine, and as far as he knew Stephen was fine – the department hadn’t called him about anything.
So what, then? Would he take up his responsibility? He was the god of the more beastly side of war, the violence and anger and bloodshed – it was not something he relished going back to. In fact, going back to those times when he was an angry, violent man scared him a little. He had a life he liked now, and didn’t want to jeopardize that. So no, likely he wouldn’t delve into the fire himself, but advice? That he could give.
As he pulled into Vince’s driveway, he wondered just who else was going to be there. Well, only one way to find out….