The Dossiers of Asset 108 Collection

by J M Guillen

  “[So arrogant.]” Amir didn’t move, still held the book. “[So certain he understands what is happening.]”

  “What’s happening here is I’m going to paste your skull against the floor unless you do as I say.” I gestured with the disruptor. “Drop. The. Book.”

  “[It is because of your kind.]” Amir’s soft words cut at me. “[You will repent, manling. You will know lamentation.]”

  “What?” My eyes widened as I recognized the words. “What the fuck did you just say?”

  Yet I’d heard him all too well. I’d heard the same words years ago, words I had never quite understood:

  The misty tendrils of shadow reached for me, hungry.

  “The Equation is not complete.” Bill’s venomous words made my ears bleed. I stumbled as the weight of them crushed me. “It is because of your kind. You will repent, manling. You will know lamentation.”

  “Fuck,” I breathed. My fingers dug at the concrete, scrabbling wildly until they found the Maverick. I whipped it forward.

  I fired and fired and fired.

  As the bullets tore into Bill’s silhouette, the boy screamed, a cry far too great for a child’s lungs. That wail burned its way into me, gibbered with madness and the despair of forgotten things.

  The shadowy abomination that had possessed Bill Iverson swarmed around me, and the entire world consisted of hollow darkness and fanged mist. Every time it touched my skin, I felt the cold, empty twilight, and the wailings of ten thousand madmen sliced at my mind.

  An eternal moment later, it had swirled away, cast upon the wind.

  “How do you know about that?” I stepped closer, fury in my heart. “What do you know about that?”

  “I know we remembered you, Michael Bishop,” he responded in perfect English. “I know we planned a very long time to find you again.”

  “One of us better start making some fucking sense.” I kept my weapons aimed at his face. “Hint. He has a dumb beard.”

  “You were touched by my Art in the Yucatán.” His smile could have cut glass.

  “I remember touching you too.” I shook my Stiletto. “Fatally.”

  “Since that time we have learned so much. I have been your shadow as you moved through the world. Young Master Iverson’s life bought an opportunity. Your meeting with Ictithia in Las Vegas brought another.”

  “Okay. Okay, okay.” I trembled at the thought. “But why? To what purpose?”

  The idea that this Irrational piece of—

  Gideon roared in my mind, a thunderous cry of rage, of wordless fury. His agony burned, a molten sharpness along the left side of his face.

  My heart leapt into my throat. I froze in place, panic like razored ice in my veins.

  The stark horror of it felt like nothing I’d ever experienced.

  Gideon? I spun, as if facing him would help me see. My heart pounded. Where are you?

  No response. Instead, I felt unyielding pain through that link, as if my skin were being burnt away.

  It went on and on.

  Gideon!

  He cried out again, a sound of anguish and terror.

  Frantically, I turned back to Amir, trying to decide how I should handle him while going back for Gideon. Maybe if I wounded him, then he wouldn’t be able—

  And then the white outline, the one granted by Gideon’s Huntsman, faded into nothingness.

  That mental pain stopped.

  Gideon? The link felt as if I threw it into the deepness of space. Please check-in, Alpha.

  “[You look like a man who sees his father’s ghost.]” Amir spoke even as I linked.

  “Fuck you.” I spun my disruptor and aimed at his unprotected head. “I’ll be seeing yours here in a moment.”

  “I am the answer to questions you aren’t wise enough to ask, Michael Bishop.” The smile he gave me held barbs. “Will you kill those answers so readily?”

  “I’m tired of your bullshit.” I flipped the disruptor, tightened its radius, and shot the man’s right hand, the Adept making the motion smooth as satin.

  He cried out in surprise and pain. The book, loosely bound to begin with, exploded from the force and cast pages all around.

  In a second motion, I widened the field and shot Amir squarely in the thigh, throwing him back and against the stone floor.

  “How ’bout you stay right there?” I spat just before I turned and sprinted back toward Gideon. Check in, Alpha!

  I have no response from his system. Rachel’s link felt ragged with worry. Nothing from his latent signal.

  No. I shook my head, trembling.

  Two of the lifeless warriors advanced toward me, but I had no time to play fuck around. I shot each with the disruptor, hurling one over the edge and into the depths of the black water. The other dropped where he’d stood.

  The formless, amoebic abomination stretched three meters over my head to rear up from the water. It smashed against the stone in front of me and eagerly sluiced my way. Within, the corpses of others it had consumed jiggled with its motion.

  No Crown function. Anya’s link contained a sterile dread. Asset is presumed lost.

  Bull-fucking-shit, I growled. I actually growled as I sent the link, a bestial sound. As I snarled, I fired at the ooze. My shots tore into it but didn’t seem to do much to the oozing aberration.

  I dialed the field higher and shot again. The shot tore into it.

  It jerked back from the walkway.

  Gideon! I threw every bit of will and emotion I had into the link as I ran, then forced the Adept to slide through the slime the horror had just slurped along my path.

  I didn’t want to gaze within the gelatinous mass for my Alpha, but I couldn’t help it. I had to peer into the creature as I glided past but didn’t see anything that looked like my pack mat—

  Like Gideon. Anything that looked like Gideon.

  I growled. The sound rumbled in my chest.

  Bishop, Rachel’s voice warned.

  Anya, I need a location on Gideon. Make that Locale One, I directed.

  Michael, Gideon DuMarque is presumed lost. I have no reading.

  Not fucking acceptable! I jerked my head around wildly. My pac… Gideon is here! I need you to find him! I seethed as I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise.

  Pack. Anya’s link dripped with confusion and worry. You were going to say ‘pack.’

  Wolf-boy, you’ve gotta reel this in, my Caduceus linked.

  How about fucking no? How about that, Rachel?

  No response came.

  Maybe he’s underwater. You said telemetry was being weird… I stepped to the edge. Gideon had fallen; I was certain of it. He was just tech adrift…

  Another of my copper-masked pursuers bore down on me, running from the far side of the walkway. This had been a young woman once, her rags not enough to cover her emaciated breasts. Her short, dark hair bristled beneath that gruesome mask.

  I shot her without truly looking, still scanning the waters, searching for my Alpha.

  “No,” I mouthed and hated the terrible way it rambled from my mouth. “God, no. Please.” My heart pounded, my muscles trembled with primal fury.

  My skin itched. A dull red haze drifted at the edge of my vision.

  Asset is presumed lost. Anya’s link felt soft, timid. You are now designated the lone Asset onsite.

  “No.” I simply refused to believe. I searched the unyielding blackness of that water, willing Gideon (the Grizzled One) to burst gasping from the darkness.

  He did not. (MypackMypackMypack…)

  I scratched at my skin, almost violently.

  My heart pounded in my throat.

  To my right, the undulating horror of the amoeba-like aberration gyrated toward me, acidic sludge oozing from the surface of its body.

  Was that it? Gideon’s last link had been filled with burning agony. Had it taken him just as it took Max? I could still remember the broken link full of Katarina’s screams as it digested her…

  “Fuck.”
I wiped my eyes, trembling. I felt the growl in my voice, a deep, unreasonable rage. I paced along the edge of the water, away from the noxious, thrashing slime.

  The anger built higher, a frantic, red wrath.

  I have Designate clearance to put your biochemistry on a leash, Bishop. Rachel’s link sounded as if it came from the other side of the world.

  No, I snarled. I get to feel this. You don’t get to take this away from me.

  I whirled toward the immense tower of sludge, scarlet fury burning in my breast. I breathed rage, sweated fury.

  “Hey there, fucko.” I glanced behind me to make certain no masked creeps were getting ready to tackle me as I faced off against the sludge. “Is that what happened? You took another of my friends?”

  Of course there was no answer. The creature sluiced toward me, pseudopods of slime reaching out, as if it detected my warmth.

  The Designates wish me to encourage you to return to the target, Michael. Anya’s uncertainty bled through the link. If Asset DuMarque is lost, Irrat 3302 must be recovered.

  The Designates know where they can stick their orders.

  Bishop! Rachel was horrified. Get on dossier, or they’ll go Protocol Zero on your ass!

  Protocol Zero? That made no sense.

  There isn’t a dossier, I snapped. We weren’t even supposed to be here!

  If Gideon is gone, then we need to make this insertion worthwhile, Anya reasoned. Irrat 3302 will have intel.

  I hated that she was right.

  The creature reared up again and plopped down on the walkway, much of its mass still in the water. It rippled toward me, a glop of acidic horror.

  Anya, I linked, hating how small I felt, please reconfirm the state of Asset DuMarque’s signal.

  Latent signal lost, she sent, matter-of-factly. Michael, he’s gone.

  Her words felt like ice in my mind. They hit me in a way that ‘Asset is presumed lost’ never could have.

  Gone.

  I felt Anya’s loss through the link, wretched pain I knew wouldn’t show on her face. That was another hit—knowing Anya felt this, even if differently than I did.

  Gone.

  My eyes burned. The entire world teetered. I clenched my fist.

  For a small eternity, the world was a ball of rage and flame.

  In some distant vista, dreaming behind my mind, I felt an aberrant growl. I tasted blood.

  I swallowed, trembling.

  Understood.

  6

  Fury and loss cut at me, and I thought I might retch. I staggered from the enormity of it.

  The shapeless horror slopped forward and tendrils of briny eagerness reached out.

  Breathe, Bishop, Rachel whispered in my Crown. Don’t lose your focus.

  I shook my head and tried to process.

  With a slithering squishiness, the briny fiend lurched toward me.

  Asset Gardener is correct, Michael, Anya’s link caressed my mind. We need you to come home.

  I took a breath.

  I stepped back.

  I aimed at the glooping aberration and fired: once, twice, five times.

  It pulled away from those shots as the kinetic force tore into it with bursts larger than my entire body. It undulated backward, unable to cry out in pain but obviously recoiling from the sensation.

  I just needed a single moment. If I could just get past the disgusting thing, I would still have a chance to chase down Amir.

  Priority: Amir Cadavas, I linked as I tried to focus on anything but the acidic pain in my chest.

  Acknowledged. The subtle distance within Anya’s tone told me more than a screaming wail might from another woman. Rachel hadn’t said much, either, but I could imagine how she was responding.

  I needed to bring this fucker home. Even if I wanted to rip that fucking smile off his skull with my bare hands, the rest of my cadre had a point.

  Catching this asshole was the best shot I had at making all of this awfulness matter, making Gideon’s death mean something.

  I turned away from the amorphous blob. Yet when I looked for the white outline, the token in my Crown that had shown where I left Amir…

  Anya, I linked. I don’t have a fix on the Irrat’s position.

  I chewed at my lip in fury.

  Telemetry is still weak, Michael. Fluctuations are being experienced worldwide. In addition, you are several meters below the surface.

  I don’t need a list of the problems just now, Preceptor. I fired on another of the masked thralls who loped toward me with inhuman hunger. I’m certain you can overcome.

  I’m attempting to establish a feed, she responded curtly. All local telemetry was routed through the Huntsman in Gideon DuMarque’s Crown. Without access to his Crown, the Huntsman data is lost.

  Fuck.

  Rage burned in my heart.

  Understood. I fired again at yet another of the masked abominations and spun. Moist pseudopods swept toward me, and I nudged the Adept into momentary activity to leap past them.

  In the dim recesses of my being, I felt the savage hunger of my aetheric companion, a haunting presence that never quite left me. I fired a second and the third time and tasted its desire burning on the edges of my mind.

  Rachel must’ve dialed up some of her mojo because the sensation faded.

  “This is becoming intolerable,” I muttered as I fired again.

  Here is the last known location of Irrat 3302, Anya linked primly. I will continue requisitions for data on his current location.

  I grappled with one of the shambling miscreations as she linked, all but overwhelmed by the scent of rot that poured off the awful thing. Another of its kind came up behind me, a gangled, shambling figure that might have once been a boy of fifteen.

  In front of me, perhaps forty meters away, the glowing white outline of Amir reappeared, stock still where I’d last sent him sprawling with a shot to the thigh.

  Thanks, Anya. I grunted and sidestepped just as the undulating slime slorped its way onto the walkway, seeking with bulbous, serpentine tendrils.

  I needed to change the battlefield. If I remained here, the inhuman things would outflank and box me. Without my katana, melee combat left me at a slight disadvantage.

  “Alright, assholes.” I stepped back from the shambling, masked myrmidons. With less than a thought, I toggled the Wraith despite my uncertainty whether they required sight.

  None of these masks contained eyeholes, after all.

  Coolness like wintergreen whispers fell over me as I faded from sight.

  They paused. The one closest to me, a lanky male who needed far more cloth to cover himself than he had available, reached for the spot where I’d stood.

  I toggled the Adept and jumped back. Though I relied on the preternatural grace of that packet, it often left me nervous, as if strung out on caffeine. However, in short bursts, the thing was a lifesaver, no matter how twitchy I might feel.

  Yes, Gideon’s voice echoed in my memory. It’s the packet that makes you twitchy.

  I took a breath and shook my head.

  Not now.

  In the creatures’ moment of confusion, I ducked left and sprinted past the figure that grappled for me.

  And almost killed myself in the attempt.

  Just behind that loping horror, the gargantuan, protozoan repugnance had slopped and the sloshed its way onto the walkway and reached eagerly for me.

  The brine of it, the saltwater repugnance, hit me in the face. The pure reek made a physical assault.

  Apparently, this thing didn’t need to see me.

  “Fuck!” I cried, inadvertently startled by the sudden splatter in front of me. I skidded to a rapid stop, but it was close. Another step or two, and I would have hurled myself into the creature.

  That would have ended things quickly.

  Bishop? Rachel’s link seemed cautious. Tell me you’re okay.

  Umm… in a minute.

  So you aren’t okay?

  I’m hoping I will be! I too
k another step backward and brought both of my kinetic disruptors to bear on the mass in front of me. I toggled the field wider; it might be the only way to harm the thing.

  My shots tore into the gelatinous mass.

  It reared back from the attack and splashed into the water.

  I sprinted past.

  I think I’m okay. I threw one glance over my shoulder and noted that dozens of masked silhouettes had begun a slow, inevitable pursuit. Some shook their heads or trembled in place as they came out of whatever odd, nightmarish fugue they’d lapsed into. Others had started a slow jog.

  Regardless of my assurance to Rachel, concern washed through me. With this many targets, I didn’t see an easy way out.

  I still do not have up to date information on Irrat 3302. Anya’s frustration bled through the link. If I were onsite, this would be simple.

  If you were onsite, maybe you could save my ass.

  Dozens of the shambling things remained. Though slow, an awful inevitability fueled their marionette-like movements. Unlike me, I imagined they didn’t exactly get tired.

  And then there was my true quarry.

  Amir would be threat enough without their help, I knew. The man held far more sorcerous power than a typical Irrat. Experience had taught me that, by himself, he made a force to be reckoned with.

  “Outmaneuvered,” I muttered as I ran. This had been more than stupid. If anyone had known how cunning Cadavas could be, it should have been Gideon and me. After our little privy dance in Mexico, the two of us had spent quite a bit of time researching the jackhole. A cunning opponent, Amir rarely let himself get drawn into situations where he didn’t have the upper hand.

  We hadn’t caught him by surprise at all.

  In fact, the more I thought about it, the more I felt like Gideon and I had been lured in like a couple of rubes.

  “Therefore, the next step…” I sprinted toward Amir Cadavas and prepared myself for what I would see.

  “Fuck.” I shook my head.

  Sometimes I hated being right.

  Target is no longer present. I searched frantically, then glanced back at the encroaching horde of despair. Anya, I’d love to hear that you have a direction. A notion. A clue.