Specters: A Monster Squad Novel - 8 (41 page)

He put the pin in his teeth and was about to jerk the pin out when he noticed that his Roman compatriots suddenly left the battle, their meat suits flashing a bright yellow light. Those who were wounded fell to the ground in pain. The mortally wounded died instantly and those yet untouched collapsed in shock.

Bigby stared at the grenade in his hand and debated making his move anyway when he was unceremoniously lifted from the ground and thrown toward the open door. He bounced hard on his shoulder and came up empty handed. The grenade rolled to the side, the pin still in place.

He slapped the rifle barrel away from the closest hunter and broke the man’s nose with a right hook then spun him around and used him as a human shield against the others.

Reaching down to his thigh, he pulled his knife, held it to Ben Charmichael’s throat, and pulled the man backward as he walked deeper into the hangar. “I want Mitchell! Get me Mitchell or I cut his fooking throat!”

The other man at the door kept his rifle trained on the pair and Bigby nearly shit himself when he saw what it was that had actually thrown him. He had never laid eyes on a monster like this one before. Grey mottled skin, talons at the end of its hands, hair covering most of its face, it reminded him somewhat of the original wolfman from the old black and white movies. Well, except for the white muzzle.

Bigby continued walking backward, dragging Ben with him, the knife against his throat as he worked his way to the back corner and the elevators. “Get me Mitchell, dammit!”

If he couldn’t kill all of the American hunters, he could at least cut the head off the snake. It also brought him a certain bit of satisfaction that Walter Simmons would be made to suffer when his rich bitch daughter dropped dead alongside her mate. He actually smiled as he reached behind him and pressed wildly for the elevator button.

“Nobody tries to follow us, you got it? Tell Mitchell that we’re taking this all the way down and he’s to meet us there. Just him. If I see anybody else, I kill this man on the spot! You hear me?”

The door began to open and sounded with a ding. Bigby barely glanced behind him before backing into the open lift. He stepped into the elevator as a pair of hands reached out and gripped his head, twisting quickly, snapping his neck.

He slumped to the ground with Ben holding the arm with the knife away from his neck. He stepped back from the body and turned around. He gave Jennifer a lopsided grin and a nod. “I guess I owe you one, ma’am.”

“Nope. I owed him one for killing Mick.” She kicked Bigby in the kidneys before stepping over his body and out of the elevator. “May he rot in hell for all the pain he’s caused.”

*****

Spalding’s coms came to life in his ear and he pressed a finger to his earbud. “Come in, Delta One. This is OPCOM calling Delta Actual, do you read, over?”

“Read you loud and clear, OPCOM.”

The relief in Colonel Mitchell’s voice was apparent as he came back across the radio. “Thank God. Sitrep, Actual.”

Spanky paused and took a deep breath. “Two tangos neutralized, OPCOM. We lost Delta Five.”

“Say again, Actual. Has Five still not been located?”

“Negative, Colonel. Gus Tracy was lost in action, sir. We’re bringing him home.” Spanky paused a moment then added, “Request clean up teams. Doc’s gonna want to look at these tangos.”

There was a long pause before OPCOM responded. “Roger that, Actual. Clean up teams are dispatched to your location.” The channel stayed open a moment longer and Spalding waited…he knew the colonel wanted to say something more, but what can you say? Every man goes into this job knowing that each day could be his last and praying that it isn’t.

Sullivan and Donovan carried Gus Tracy’s body out in the body bag that each man carried in his pack. Lamb and Jacobs lead the way to the trap door near the clearing and helped lift Gus out and placed him in the clearing.

Sullivan disarmed the tripwire trap before the clean up teams arrived and Delta Team sat quietly in the clearing waiting for the helicopters to break the silence.

Donovan was the first to speak. “Do you think there could be more of them?”

Spalding gave him a surprised look. “Why would you ask that?”

“There was a male and a female. They had to come from somewhere. And that’s a pretty elaborate tunnel system down there.”

Spalding shrugged. “Who knows, those tunnels could be thousands of years old. Those things looked like cavemen. Maybe they’re Neanderthals. I have no clue. If they are, then, those tunnels could be tens of thousands of years old.”

“And, we’re supposed to believe that the population ended up being just two?” Donovan asked.

Spalding shrugged again. “Not my job code to care.”

Sullivan looked to the sky. “Choppers inbound.”

Spalding stood and dusted his pants off. “Let’s get Gus ready to go home.”

*****

Viktor had gathered his wolves and left unceremoniously. Rufus knew better than to try to smooth things over with him now. Things were too raw with the man. Perhaps in time he could rekindle the friendship, but he feared that things would never truly be the same. He watched the large man leave the building and he felt something akin to an ache in his chest. He dismissed it right away. Time had a way of making things right and he knew that once Viktor saw that he was mistaken about his intentions, the two could begin again. It would take patience. Unfortunately, Rufus was not very good at waiting.

He now sat at the table, his security forces surrounding him. “I know that you’re not exactly fond of wolves, but I need your assistance. My most trusted associates have decided to cut their ties with me and I find myself in need of those who cannot be swayed by other vampires. Or sunlight.

“My liege, perhaps if you told us what you were needing?” his head of security stated, bowing deeply.

Rufus leaned back in the chair, his hands steepled together. “I need a crew of wolves who can go to the Americas and…dig something up.”

“Chancellor?”

“A certain,
artifact
that needs to be dealt with.” Rufus smiled and it didn’t reach his eyes.

“And where would this artifact be, my liege?”

“Buried under tons of concrete. In the deserts of Nevada…”

*****

Jameson continued to watch the video that was transmitted to him and studied the dark figure who seemed impervious to gunfire, shredded humans with his bare hands and moved faster than any person should be allowed to move.

“What’s your take?”

He paused the video and leaned back in his chair. “I’m not convinced that they’re all capable of this. This may well be one single…
person
.”

Ingram nodded. “Or they knew that, with this kind of ability, only one operator would be needed outside, so they only sent one.”

Jameson sighed and slid the file across the desk to him then clicked off the video player on his computer. “It’s settled then. We put our plans on hiatus. We watch them for a while and see what more we can learn about them before we commit to the plan.”

Ingram picked up the file and nodded. “Agreed.” He stood to leave Jameson’s office then paused. “Have we heard anything more from the Council?”

Jameson nodded. “Actually, there’s been a power shift.” He leaned over and pulled open a drawer on his desk. He pulled a folder and slid it across his desk. “There
is
no more Council, per se. There’s only one person running the show now.”

“Oh really?” Ingram opened the file folder and looked at the grainy photograph. “Where’d you get this?”

“A spy in Geneva. He just sent that over. Looks like a cell phone picture.”

“So instead of a group of assholes, it’s just one asshole. Great.” Ingram closed the file and laid it on the desk. “Do we have anything on him yet?”

“Just a name. Thorn.”

“I’ll put my people on it and see what we can dig up on him.” Ingram stood to leave. “Let me know if you find out anything else from your spy.”

Jameson watched him leave and picked up the folder. He opened it and studied the young man in the grainy picture. “Friend or foe, Mr. Thorn? Friend or foe?”

EPILOGUE

Kalen finished packing his meager belongings and closed the door to his room. He paused outside of Brooke’s room and pressed his forehead to the steel door. He placed his hand against it and tried to feel her inside. Some flicker of her essence…a shadow of her once having been there.

All he felt was cold steel under his palm.

He pushed off the door and walked down the hallway. Jack rounded the corner and intercepted him. “Hey, kid, got a minute?”

Kalen turned and tried to give him his full attention. “Yes, Chief Jack?”

Jack pulled a cloth bundle out and unwrapped it. “I wanted to ask you about this.”

Kalen’s eyes widened when he saw the polished stone. “Where did you get this, Chief Jack?”

“Loren gave it to me after our first encounter and the big fight with all of the vampires in the desert.” He hefted the rock and held it near Kalen’s Gatekeeper. “Are they the same kind of rock?”

“Yes, they are. This is a very large and very rare Gatekeeper.” He held his hand over his own stone and lowered his voice, “I cannot believe that she would give this to you, Chief Jack.”

Jack held his hand up. “I didn’t steal it, I promise.” He wrapped it back up and slipped it into the leather satchel. “I didn’t even know what it was until she called me on it. Even then, I honestly just thought that it was…I dunno, like an Elf cell phone.”

Kalen shook his head, obviously confused. “I do not…”

“A communication…thing.”

“It is also a Gatekeeper.”

“So, I could open doorways through stone with it?”

Kalen nodded. “If you practice.”

“Practice? Like…are there phone numbers or?”

“I do not…you simply have to concentrate on
where
you want to go.”

“Concentrate?”

“Very much. Yes.” Kalen placed a hand on his shoulder. “Good luck, Chief Jack.”

“Are you taking Azrael home today?” Jack fell into step beside the young warrior.

“Yes. Allister has been returned to his mountain and Gnat is with Bartholomew. Gideon awaits Azrael’s return this evening. Then I will return home.”

Jack cleared his throat. “You know, you don’t have to go back.”

Kalen paused and shook his head. “No, I must.”

“It isn’t worth it, kid. Yeah, they used you, but—”

“I am returning home to take my place as Gatekeeper, Chief Jack. That is all.” Kalen’s eyes reflected a sadness that Jack couldn’t comprehend. He studied the young warrior who now appeared much, much older.

“Okay, Kalen. But, if you ever change your mind, you can always come and visit me and the pack. They’ve relocated to a small town in Washington State. We could use someone like you there.”

“I will be fine, Chief Jack. Thank you.”

Jack watched as the golden skinned warrior walked away and he felt as though he were losing a friend. Again.

*****

Mark sat on the examination table and groaned. “Please tell me it isn’t the asshole-and-ballsack tea again?”

“I left the dirty sock out this time.” Evan poured the mixture into a mug and handed it to him.

“But, Doc, look at me. I’m back to normal now. Skin is the normal shade of peachy tan, fingernails look like fingernails, the only facial hair is the stuff I don’t shave off…give me a break. You’ve been making me drink this stuff every day since I wolfed out.”

Evan nodded. “We need to build up your system.”

Mark groaned again and held the cup in his hands. He scrunched his face as the odor rose to his nostrils. “I think you’re just doing this to get back at me.”

“I am a professional, Major. I would not stoop to such levels. Now, drink up.” Evan tipped the cup toward his mouth.

“Ugh…” Mark held his breath and did his best to swallow the mixture with one swallow. “Gah! At least it doesn’t knock me out anymore.”

“True. And we’ll keep refining it until you can have a fight-or-flight response and not ‘wolf out’ as you call it.”

Mark grunted. “Hey, that whole wolfing out thing came in handy when it happened.”

“True. But until we can figure out a way for you to control it, we need to keep it at bay.”

Mark hopped off the table and set the mug on the counter. “Great. So, same time tomorrow?”

“Of course.” Evan reached for the cup and gave Mark a smirk. “And tomorrow I’ll be sure to use a dirty sock.”

“You’re all heart, Doc.”

*****

Sullivan stood over Brooke’s remains and did his best to maintain himself. Spalding placed a reassuring hand on the big man’s shoulder. “All I can think to say is, I’m sorry. I know that doesn’t help.”

“I keep thinking how I had just got her back. She was like she was when she left. I mean, when she was taken.” He sniffed back the tears that threatened. “And I keep thinking to how I wanted to put her down if I ever encountered her and…” his voice caught in his throat.

“I know. I know.” Spalding squeezed his shoulder.

The technician entered the makeshift morgue and nodded to Spalding. “It’s time.”

“Just give us a minute.” He turned and lowered his voice, “They need to take her now, bud.”

Sullivan nodded and patted the body bag. He tried not to think of his initial shock and anger when they returned and he was first told of his sister’s demise. They had told him that she died in battle at first, but then he found out the details and he wanted to punch something…destroy something…to scream, to yell, to vent his anger and frustration on something, anything. Instead, he collapsed in the floor and cried just like he had done when she was first taken.

He watched as they wheeled her into the other room and Spalding stood by his side as they loaded her onto the conveyor and fed her body to the crematorium. When the flames rose he felt the heat through the closed door and he suddenly felt utterly alone.

Spalding must have sensed that feeling. He placed a reassuring hand on the man’s back. “You still got us, brother. I know it’s not the same, but we’re family.”

Little John nodded and turned away. He had to pay his respects to Gus before they ‘processed’ him.

*****

Mitchell sat quietly in his office while Laura paced slowly. She told her story and avoided his gaze the entire time. When she finished, she stopped and hadn’t realized that she had been crying. She stood, staring at the floor and wiped at her cheeks. “I’m sorry, sir.”

“For what part?”

“All of it. For not telling you why I was leaving. For stealing the serum. For lying to you…for crying about the whole damned thing.” She stood up straight and squared her shoulders. “I’m ready.”

“For what?”

“To face whatever punishment you think is appropriate for my actions.” She stared straight ahead and felt her legs shake as her mind raced at the endless possibilities.

Mitchell exhaled loudly and stood from his chair. He walked to the mini bar and poured himself a tall glass of scotch. He glanced over his shoulder and decided to pour a second one. “At ease already.”

Matt set the scotch in front of her and sat back down. “That’s a hell of a story.”

She picked the scotch up with trembling hands and took a large swallow. “I debated on keeping it to myself, but it was eating at me.”

“And the whole cock-and-bull story about the stuff we do here crossing the line and you needed to get away?”

She shrugged. “Well, okay, that part was true too.”

Mitchell took a long pull of the scotch and enjoyed the burn as it went down. “Oh, man, I missed this stuff.” He pointed to the mini bar. “That’s the missus’ idea. She likes a stiff one every now and then.”

Laura gave him a cockeyed stare and Mitchell stammered. “I meant a stiff
drink
.”

“I knew what you meant, Colonel.” She set the glass down and studied him. “What do you intend to do about me?”

Mitchell drained his glass and set it next to hers. “I guess it’s a good goddamn thing you never breathed a word of it to me, Ms. Youngblood. Otherwise, I’d be obliged to throw you to the wolves, so to speak. But, since you didn’t, and you never will…and yes, that IS an order, then I guess we won’t have to worry about it, will we?” Mitchell stood and refilled his scotch. “However, and let me be absolutely clear about this…don’t cross any more lines like this again.”

Matt kept his back to her as he put the stopper back in the decanter. “I would like to think that my civilian rep would feel that she could come to me with
any
problem. That she felt like she could trust me with anything.” He turned and gave her a look that she couldn’t quite read. For the briefest of moments, she felt as though his feelings were hurt that she hadn’t trusted him. “That she would know I would do anything to help. Including breaking the rules. Again.”

She studied him and felt herself smiling at him. “Understood, sir.”

“Good. Now, finish your scotch and then you get your skinny little ass back out there and get back to work.” He lifted his glass to her.

She lifted her glass in salute. “Never let a good scotch go to waste, sir.”

*****

Chad McKenzie sat alone in the Close Quarters Trainer and stared upward at the acrylic windows. He could see the different personnel going about their day, performing their duties and menial tasks. He turned back to the silhouette target he had pinned on the target board and leveled his weapon.

Dry firing at the target, he imagined the bullets entering and exiting the target, blood spraying, brains splattering as the silver jacketed rounds ripped through flesh and bone. He lowered his weapon and smiled.

“Don’t worry, Sully, your day is coming. You won’t be in misery for much longer.” He advanced on the target, dry firing as he stepped closer. When he reached the target, he dropped his weapon and pulled his tantō-bladed knife. He stabbed at the paper image of Little John until only shredded pieces of the black and white image were left.

“I said it before, and I’ll say it again. Ain’t nobody gonna kill you but me.”