Specters: A Monster Squad Novel - 8 (17 page)

“I was just curious if you got a chance to look at the stuff Matt sent you.”

“Yes, I did have a chance to glance through them. I haven’t given them a thorough going over yet. I was just making preliminary notes from what I saw.” He turned and pulled his notebook to his side. “If the armor that is in these schematics is real, it is quite high tech.”

“Talk to me.”

“Well, they’re a special blend of Kevlar and carbon fibers with silver strands woven into the material. Quite ingenious if I may say so. I’m surprised I didn’t think of this, to be completely honest.”

“What else?”

“Well, besides the microprocessor-controlled damage control units mounted throughout the system, it’s still quite remarkable. The helmets have heads-up display, the communications are satellite uplink capable. Oh, and this is truly remarkable. Tiny CO2 cartridges mounted for each piece of armor. They’re deployed in the event of a bleeding injury. They charge concentric rings that are built into the interior of the suits.”

“What does that mean, Doc? English, please.”

Evan cleared his throat. “Major, if a soldier is shot…say in the leg. The suit can assess where the man is bleeding, route the CO2 charge to inflate an elastic ring that is built within the suit itself. It acts as a tourniquet to stanch the flow of blood. Then, that section is filled with an antibacterial foam that also has a clotting agent. It basically seals the wound and enables the soldier to keep fighting.”

Mark nodded. “Like ‘Fix-A-Flat’ but for a person?”

“More or less, yes. And the entire thing is controlled by this back mounted mini-computer. The entire thing is encased in a magnesium housing. Anything short of a direct shot to the casing would just glance off. It’s actually quite ingenious.”

“Yeah, you said that.” Mark stared at the drawings. “Looks like something from a damned video game.”

“Agreed. Numerous video games use something similar in their main character’s graphics to…”

Mark cut him off. “So how do we stop these things?”

Evan stared at him, open mouthed. “Stop them? Oh…I…I have no idea. I thought you were looking to procure them for the squads.”

“Sorry Doc. It’s not like I can drop by our local Sears or Home Depot and order this. This is top shelf military-spy shit. Space age stuff that we’re supposed to believe doesn’t exist. But now there’s some kind of super soldier out there that has these, and word has it that they’re gunning for us.”

Evan blanched and slowly sat back down. “You’re serious? Another clandestine group has outfitted their people with these and they are targeting our boys?”

“That’s the word. So how do we stop them?”

Evan shook his head. “I don’t know. Yet.” He turned and pulled the stack of files back to him. “Let me get back to you.”

*****

Bigby pulled the truck past the now closed Base Exchange and dimmed the lights. He knew these roads from memory, having drilled the procedure through his mind a dozen times. He drove the slightly twisting road, his eyes constantly scanning for military police, private security or the odd passerby and turned left to pass in front of the hangar. The empty building on his left cast a shadow over the truck as he drove the speed limit past the front of the hangar, his eyes scanning the guard shack out front.

He slowed for the stop sign and rolled through it like most normally do then turned left again, intending to pull around and park behind the empty office complex across from the hangar. He pulled the truck into the empty parking lot and killed the engine. He sat in the cab and strained his ears for the longest time, listening for any odd sounds through the open window. If anything at all felt the slightest bit off, he would quickly determine whether to continue with his plan or abandon it and try again later.

After twenty minutes he quietly opened the door of the truck and slipped from the cab. He stood outside and scanned the area, his eyes taking in everything. He checked both entrances to the parking area and quickly scanned the windows of the building. Convinced the area was clear, Bigby approached the rear entrance of the empty office and tried the door. Locked.

Slipping around to a bottom floor window, he began lifting each until he found one that was unlocked. Within moments he was inside and the window was slid back into place. Bigby quickly found the stairs and silently made his way to the third floor. He wanted a bird’s eye view from where he could observe the squads for a while. If he could determine that they were still operating from the hangar and discern any notable pattern, his job would be all the easier.

Big entered what appeared to have been a cube farm in a former life. Most of the equipment and furniture had been removed at some point in the past. He slowly made his way toward the window when he heard a rustling noise in the corner that froze him in his steps. Slowly he backed away and crept around to flank the source of the noise.

Bigby peered over a stack of old chairs to see what looked like a soldier stretched out on a bed of couch cushions under the bank of windows. “Are we hiding or are we AWOL?”

The man nearly jumped out of his skin as Big spoke to him. “Who’s that? I-I’m not a…I’m not a soldier!” Mick threw his hands into the air, his head on a swivel, unable to see the source of the voice.

“If you’re not a soldier, then why the uniform, mate?” Bigby stepped out from behind the chairs, a .45 leveled at his chest.

“To blend in,” Mick admitted, his jaw ticking. “I’m…” He let his voice trail off, unwilling to admit that he was on the run.

“Spill it, boy-o, or I’ll poke holes in you for fun.”

Mick squinted in the dim light of the cluttered office and cocked his head. “You’re not Air Force.”

“Says who?”

“You’re a limey. And you have no uniform.”

“Yeah. And you sound Aussie. But you do have a uniform, so that sends up a red flag, now don’t it?”

Mick lowered his hands slowly and planted them on his hips. “Let me guess. You’re one of Simmons’ men? You come here to spy on them, too”

Big felt a crooked smile cross his features. “The fact that you even know that name makes me wonder who the hell you are, mate.”

“I’m Mick. I flew his daughter up here.” He shook his head and glanced out the window. “The old man told me to play along, keep his daughter safe, blah, blah, blah. How the hell was I to know that she would find ‘
her one true love’
and get herself mixed up in all this mess?”

“So you’re the inside man that fed his wolves all that phony intel?”

Mick held his hands up. “Oy! Now they caught on to what the hell was going on and made me do that. Then they were gonna ship me off to some deserted island. I ripped the throat out of one of their pilots and forced the other to bring me back here. I knew they’d be looking for me so I got a haircut, a shave, and bought me this uniform so I could blend in.” He pointed to the hangar below. “I’ve been camping out here ever since. Eating take out and farting like a freight train.”

Bigby considered the man’s story and holstered his pistol. “So, what am I supposed to do with you? It’s not like you’re gonna go running off to the squad and tell them I’m up here, now are you?”

“My only interest is in keeping Jennifer safe.”

Bigby snorted. “And my only interest is in killing every last one of them. And to be honest, kid, I don’t give two shits if the little bitch gets caught up in it or not.”

Mick’s eyed widened. “No, you can’t.”

“I can. And I will.” He turned and stared out the window toward the hangar. “And I’ll do you too if you try to get in my way.”

*****

Brooke lay in her bed and pulled her blanket up to her chin to stifle her crying. She couldn’t believe that she had allowed herself to lower her defenses and allow someone inside. For so long she had kept the wall up, keeping everyone and everything at arm’s length, not allowing any feelings to penetrate. She couldn’t let feelings enter into the equation. Feelings can get you killed. Feelings for others can be used as leverage. Feelings are bad.

But the dreams…they had to mean something, didn’t they? They felt so real. They warmed her from within. They broke through the hardened façade and made her realize that without feelings life wasn’t worth living. They caused her to weaken and accept another in a way that she never thought she could again. She hadn’t wanted to, but she did. Was it his doing or hers? Was it meant to be or was it a cruel trick of another? Were they destined to be together or not? How could dreams feel so real?

Then when they acted upon them, it was even better than the dreams ever hoped of being. Her heart had swelled with emotion that she hadn’t realized she was missing in her life. A river, overflowing its bank as it swept her out of her comfort zone and into a whole new world of newness…new feelings that she wasn’t acquainted with. It wasn’t that it was unwelcome, just unfamiliar.

She pulled the blanket tighter as she remembered the look in John’s eyes when she reconciled with him. If she withdrew back into her shell, could he ever forgive her? She had just rekindled that sibling relationship and she could tell that it was something he needed every bit as much as she needed that damned elf.

She suddenly sat up, her breath caught in her throat. She
needed
that elf? The realization struck her as odd and frightening at the same time. She didn’t
need
anybody. She never had and she never would. How could she have even thought such a thing?

A light knock at her door brought her out of her reverie and she quickly glanced at the shadow under her doorway. “Go away!”

Kalen’s soft voice spoke through the seam along the doorjamb, “Brooke, please. I must speak with you.”

“No. You said what you needed to say. Now leave.”

She heard the knob twist and refuse to give against the lock. “Please, Brooke.”

“I said no.” She pulled the blanket up tighter and fell back onto her bed. “Just leave me alone,” her voice was muffled under the wool blanket.

“I don’t ever want to leave you again,” his voice cracked in the echo of the hallway. “I was wrong. The Wyldwood may ban me from ever returning home for being with you, but…how can I ever return home if I’m incomplete?”

She reluctantly pulled the blanket down and listened to him. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that you complete me. I’m nothing without you. I’d rather be banished to this world
with
you than to live in the Anywhere without you. I’d rather be any place there is…even to be felled in battle as long as you are in my heart.”

Brooke sat up and stared at the shadow under her door. “You don’t mean it.”

“I do.” Kalen pressed his forehead to her door. “I’ll surrender the Gatekeeper to Chief Jack. I’ll never return to my people…if you’ll still have me.”

Kalen stared at the grey metal door and was about to give up when he heard the lock turn. Slowly the door opened and he stared at her. Her swollen eyes, her mussed hair and her unkempt gown. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever laid eyes on. “I love you, Brooke.”

She threw her arms around him and pulled him inside.

*****

“Damage assessment.”

Ingram stared at the printout and smiled inwardly. “Minimal. Barely more than a few scratches.”

“Chances of infection?”

“Nil. They have enough colloidal silver running through them that I’m surprised their skin isn’t blue.” Ingram set the printouts in front of Jameson and turned to the viewscreen to check the edited films of the testing. “You realize that is where the term ‘blue bloods’ originated from, don’t you?”

“Yes, I know. The wealthy in Elizabethan times ate acidic foods from silver platters and goblets that caused the silver to leach into their blood. You’ve told me this story numerous times.”

Ingram scowled at the man behind his back. “I just find it funny that the very thing that turned their pallor grey-blue prevented them from becoming ill, that’s all.”

“So you’ve said.” Jameson dropped the printout and eyed the smaller man. “You’re certain that the colloidal silver is sufficient to prevent infection?”

“Between the silver in their armor and the silver in their system, they should be protected.” He turned and gave him a crooked smile. “We can give them injections of infused garlic if you’d like.”

“Ha-ha-ha. I’m sure the men would enjoy smelling like a cheap Italian restaurant.”

Ingram snorted. “They’re so brainwashed, they wouldn’t care. If you told them to march off a cliff, they would.”

“They’re not lemmings, Robert.” Jameson stepped over to the viewscreen and glanced at the video. “They’re still soldiers with minds of their own.”

“Now that is funny.” Ingram adjusted the brightness of the image and sat back to stare at the CRT. “You’ve got them so doped up that they couldn’t create an original thought if they had to. I guess it’s for the best though. With that much HGH and steroids running through their systems, if they were allowed to run unchecked, they’d probably fall into a hormone induced rage and kill each other.”