The Supernatural Bounty Hunter Files: Special Edition Fantasy Bundle, Books 6 thru 10 (Smoke Special Edition Book 2)

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The Supernatural Bounty Hunter Files: Special Edition Fantasy Bundle, Books 6 thru 10 (Smoke Special Edition Book 2) Page 48

by Craig Halloran


  “It’s been tricky, but you know me.”

  “Yeah, I do. As for me being watched, I haven’t picked up on anything. Who’s been watching?”

  Smoke stood up. Spying through the window at the parking lot across the street, he said, “Take a look. Black sedan, Section D.”

  Without standing, Sid craned her neck. Two men in peacoats were parked a dozen paces from her car. One was smoking, and the other talked on his phone. “I guess I need a bird’s-eye view. They really must be keeping their distance. So now what?”

  “What’s going on with me isn’t good, but it’s power. I like it. It’s what I need to stop Kane. To finish him off once and for all. I think he’s the key.”

  “How so?”

  “I’ve been coming and going from their lair, the one I escaped from.”

  “Lair? What lair? Where is it?”

  “Here, but I’m not telling you where. The last thing I need is for you to go snooping around. It’s bad enough that I am. But I’m convinced that Kane is the key. They worship him like a god. If he goes down, I think they all go down. I believe it’s his blood that spreads the curse. Did you ever notice anything like that when you were with him?”

  Sid stiffened. Her chest tightened. She didn’t want to think about it. “Come to think of it, I did see him draw blood once. I didn’t understand why. Are you suggesting he’s the main host of all of this?”

  “Yeah, and if the host dies…”

  “They all die.”

  “The question is, how do we get close enough to kill him? I’m not sure I can just take his head. There might be more to it than that. And I have a feeling I’ll only get one chance. I’m angling for it before it’s too late.”

  “You sound like a man with time running out. I don’t like it. You need to let me help.”

  “Just stay clear for now. I’m still on recon. I have to be truthful, Sid, this power changes you. It’s a rush. I can do things that, well, that I never could have imagined. I thought I was fearless before. I feel invincible now.”

  “That lack of fear is the shifter’s weakness.”

  “Don’t think that hasn’t crossed my mind.”

  “So what am I supposed to do, sit around and wait until you contact me again? That will drive me crazy. You need to let me work on this. I can talk to Mal. He might be able to figure something out.”

  “They’re watching everybody. Just go about your business. I know it’s tough, but give me a few days and I’ll be back in touch. I’ll find you. Just don’t shelter yourself back at the apartment.”

  “I’m not making you any promises.”

  He hugged her and the baby all in one. “I love you, Sid. I won’t make any promises I can’t keep either. See you soon.”

  CHAPTER 30

  Sid had had enough. She wasn’t going to sit around waiting for Smoke to show up. He was alive. She was going to help keep him alive even if it killed her. Back at the apartment, she sat at the kitchen island, signing cards by hand. She sealed them up in envelopes and added adhesive Charlie Brown Christmas stamps to them.

  “Sometimes the old ways are the best ways.”

  Without getting too carried away, she wrote out some details about what was going on with Smoke. She mailed them to Sam and Guppy, Mal and Asia, and Russ Davenport. Everyone had a post office box. That had been established long ago. Snail mail might not be the fastest way to get the word out, but it was more secure than email or texting. There were too many spies on the web. In addition to mailing out the letters inside Christmas cards, Sid encrypted the notes. It wasn’t anything complicated, but only a trained eye would be able to see the message.

  Sid tied her hair back in a scrunchie and set the notes aside. Dressed in casual clothing, she and the baby headed out for a routine day. There were groceries to be bought and some shopping at the mall, but the first stop was at the post office. Smoke never had a mailbox, but he had always had a post office box. It was routine for her to check it. She drove the highways a little slower than she normally did. She changed her route from time to time. Through the rearview mirror, she’d keep an eye out for any black sedans.

  There you are.

  Hanging back over a quarter of a mile behind her, a black sedan was on her tail. There wasn’t anything unusual about it. The vehicle stayed on her like a distant magnet. She made the first stop at the post office. It was a small brick-and-mortar building with white tile floors and hundreds of post office boxes. With the child carrier hooked in her arm, she dropped the cards in the bin inside. Taking out her key, she checked her mail, pulled some out, and tucked it under her arm.

  Sifting through the mail, she kept a close eye out the window.

  A black Buick cruised by and came to a stop at the light that led onto the main stretch of road. The driver, a thick-necked man with a shaved head, pulled off to the side of the road and into the parking lot across the street. He backed the Buick in front of the offices of the small plaza.

  There you are. Now that I know, I can see you as plain as day. Smoke was right.

  She got back in the Hellcat, locked in the car seat, and said to JK, “Are you ready to have some fun, sweetie?” His toothless smile shined in her eyes. “Yeah, you’re just like your father.”

  Sid backed the Hellcat out. As soon as she did, she saw the black Buick creep out from between two cars. She pulled back into her slot. The Buick pulled back in too. She saw another car and driver honking the horn at the Buick because they wanted the spot. A woman was leaning out of her window, shaking her fist and yelling at the men in the Buick.

  Laughing, Sid said to JK, “That language probably isn’t appropriate for a little fella like you. Let’s go.” She hit the road and at first took the way she’d come but then made a few quick turns into a residential area where the houses were laid out in square blocks. She laid on the accelerator from stop sign to stop sign, drawing a nasty look from an old man walking a black poodle. Sid was laughing. “I’m not going that fast. I just sound fast.” She peeked at the speedometer. “I suppose I am going a little fast.”

  She made a few more turns, cutting through the streets that ran parallel to each other. Finally, she came to a stoplight that led into the main intersection. The light turned green. She didn’t slow. She spilled over into the residential area on the other side of the highway. There wasn’t any sign of the Buick. I’m pretty sure I lost them.

  Parked alongside the street, she took a peek at JK. He was fast asleep. “I must be boring my little guy.” She turned the symphony music up a hair. The baby stirred. “I’d better get moving. I think my little rambler sleeps better when we’re rolling.”

  Figuring that if she had lost her followers, they’d be keeping an eye out for if she went back the way she came and not wanting to risk it, she decided to go the other way and head in a direction she didn’t routinely go. There were a few things that bothered her about her pursuers. She wasn’t sure where they had picked up on her, since it hadn’t been at the apartment. That suggested they might have more eyes than she initially imagined. Any person driving down the road or walking down the street with a phone could be in cahoots with the Drake. And in the Hellcat, she wouldn’t be that hard to notice. She drove a few miles and pulled into a Chick-fil-A drive-through. She ordered a chicken-egg-and-cheese bagel with a large coffee. At the pay window, the black Buick rolled by. “I’ll be damned.”

  “Excuse me?” the polite woman working the window said. “Is there something wrong with your order? We’ll be really quick to fix it.”

  “No, the order is fine. Sorry, I just discovered another problem. Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome. Nice car, by the way.”

  “Later.” Sid pulled out of the drive-thru and headed back toward home. On her way home, a helicopter shot through the sky. She’d seen it more than once since she’d been driving. She’d keep an eye on it. Eating her bagel, she realized there wasn’t much she could do about it. The Drake was indeed watching. They could be usin
g satellites for all I know, but at least they aren’t getting too close. Advantage, Sid.

  CHAPTER 31

  Smoke drove a white Dodge pickup truck south down the George Washington Memorial Parkway. He passed the Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport, the Washington Sailing Marina, went past Daingerfield Island, hooked a left just past Marina Towers, and slipped over toward the Potomac River by an old power plant. The power plant was surrounded by chain-link fence marked with several warning signs. Some of the signs read “Keep out” and others said “No trespassing.” There was only one entrance.

  Two peacoat guards opened the gate and let him in.

  “Good morning, sir.” The guard checked the credentials Smoke was holding out the window. A picture ID with the Drake logo on it. It wasn’t his face, though, but someone else’s. The hard-faced scowl of an older flat-top veteran with a caterpillar moustache.

  “Good for you, Roy. You remembered to check my identification today.”

  The roughneck smirked. “I learned my lesson, sir.”

  “That’s right,” Smoke said in a voice that wasn’t his own. “Don’t give me any of that personal recognition bullshit again. Spread the word. If it happens again, you peacoats are going to be licking the slime off the bellies of the boats.” He blew smoke in the man’s face from a cigar he was puffing on. “At ease now. I’ll see you after guard mount.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Eh, how is that boy of yours doing. Tommy, wasn’t it?”

  The guard started to grin. “Growing like a weed, sir.”

  “Remember that,” Smoke said.

  The guard’s expression soured. “Yes, sir,” he said flatly.

  Smoke pulled into the parking lot and shut off the engine. He grabbed a metal lunch pail and thermos, smiling to himself. He’d worked hard for months infiltrating the Drake’s lair. Drake Energy was the very place he had escaped from, nothing but a hive of evil. The facility wasn’t garish and fanciful like so many other Drake office buildings. Instead, it was low key, barely on the radar and not even identified by search engines like Google Earth. Most landmark buildings had a name with them, but this one didn’t.

  The truck door swung open with a groan. He slammed it shut hard, leaving the keys inside. He’d stolen the identity of Mack Black, a real hard leader charged with the security of the facility. At first, Smoke had shifted into the form of one of the peacoat guards, but just long enough to figure out how the operation inside the energy plant went. That was when he’d gotten acquainted with Mack Black. The man had access to everything inside the facility and was even on good terms with Kane, who was in and out all the time—via boat mostly, but sometimes by chopper.

  Thermos tucked under his arm and lunch pail in hand, he angled toward the side entrance of the facility. He spied the men posted on the high points of the building nestled between the ductwork and bricks. The naked eye wouldn’t know they were there if you didn’t already know they were there. At the steel doors that led inside was a security camera. Digital eyeballs were everywhere. Smoke held his access card up. The door clicked. He went inside and down a long hallway, where the paint was peeling off the cinderblock.

  Smoke fought the urge to whistle. Mack Black would never do such a thing. At the same time, Smoke hated having to keep the man imprisoned, but what choice did he have? There was too much on the line. Posing as Mack was easy. The man didn’t talk much and took orders well. The guards didn’t cross him, and the shifters that came in and out respected him. In just a few weeks, Smoke had learned more than he ever cared to know about the Drake’s operations. The drugs, the bribes, the recruiting were all bundled together as they continued to bring more people into the Drake family.

  He entered the main operation center. Rich and Sherry were inside, wearing headsets. The room had huge monitors up on the wall and a dozen workstations facing it. It reminded Smoke of the war rooms he’d seen in the movies, where everyone would be standing around watching the defcon countdown or a new space rocket launch. He took a seat at a station and began typing.

  “Report?”

  Sherry spoke. She was a mousy gal with short cherry-red hair. “The lair is secure. All shifters and deaders accounted for. No distinguished visitors on the premises last night.”

  “How are our satellite operations? Our marks make any unusual patterns?”

  Rich was sitting at the other station, a short man who was a little pudgy. His thick fingers pecked the keys with lightning speed. A new image popped up on the big screen, a view from space that quickly zoomed in on DC. “Mark number three made a move yesterday that was suspicious. She lost her tail. The satellites lost her in the trees. It went on for fifteen minutes. She was cruising the oaks on the back streets. We found her again at a fast food place. Nothing strange since. Should we put more boots on the ground to follow after her?”

  “I don’t need your suggestions, cupcake. Play the segment where you lost and found mark three.”

  With a bird’s-eye view, the big screen flashed through the entire fifteen minutes in thirty seconds. It was astonishing being able to see everything at once from such an enlightening perspective. It was good. It gave Smoke comfort, watching out for Sid the same way the Drake was looking for him. Now he had the advantage for a change.

  “Show me the other marks.”

  “Yes sir,” said Rich and Sherry together.

  “Sir.” Sherry pulled an image up on the screen. A black boat was sailing down the Potomac River. “Kane is coming.”

  Great Dane, why so early?

  CHAPTER 32

  Kane’s arrival posed challenges. Unpleasant and demanding, he never seemed pleased with anything. Smoke headed to the back end of the building, exited, and took the stairs down to the dock. A handful of peacoats were there, ready to tether the small cruiser to the landing. Smoke flicked his cigar in the river.

  When Kane wasn’t around, he had free range of the power plant. Smoke had taken full advantage of this time, going through every room he could find, making routine security checks. He found plenty of interesting places within. The arena was one of the places, buried underneath the plant. That wasn’t all. The plant was built on an old fort built to control passage up and down the river. There were dungeons and chains. Deep and dank, the dreary facilities were way below river level. That was where colonial technology met with the modern days. There were also labs where deaders were made.

  Men and women were brought in on boats, like slaves on pirate ships. Addicts were hauled in, doped up between life and death. Their failing bodies, broken in spirit and mind, turned themselves over to the Drake. Promised the golden road to El Dorado and fully deceived, their hearts were stopped cold in their chests. In those critical moments, they were taken from the brink of death and brought back as deaders. They lived, but they didn’t feel the pain of life any longer.

  Smoke spent his time trying to learn whether it was technology or dark mysticism behind it all. Or was it something else that allowed the dead to walk? Kane’s bloodstream seemed to be the source of it all. Vials were filled in the chemistry labs and mixed into dangerous concoctions. The weak became deaders. The strong, if they survived, became shifters.

  So far as Smoke could tell, Kane used his power to taint DC one day at a time. If he could control the most powerful people in Washington, he could control the world. He wouldn’t need shifters or deaders then. He’d just have to influence the wicked imaginations of men and use their own vices to allow them to destroy themselves.

  As Mack Black, Smoke had access to almost everything, but some of the places were sacred, and only the known shifters went in. He didn’t have his finger on the pulse just yet.

  The roughneck peacoats anchored the custom cruiser to the dock. Putting their backs into it, they locked in the gangplank and shuffled out of sight.

  Here we go.

  Clad in a heavy black turtleneck, Kane appeared. His stringy locks of blond hair stirred in the river winds. Allison appeared wearing a hot-
pink ski cap and a long white winter coat. Kane was barking about something. He came down the plank with his arms swinging like an ape’s. He tipped his chin at Smoke.

  “Good morning, sir,” Smoke said.

  “Give me a report, Mack. Any news?”

  “It’s still quiet.” Smoke hustled up to the back entrance of the facility, opened the door, and stepped aside. “No sign of Mister Smoke.”

  “And what about the marks? Not even the slightest aberration in their patterns?”

  Allison caught his eye for a moment, then she slipped inside the inner corridor. Smoke caught up with the both of them. He didn’t want to report on Sid dropping off the radar for a mere fifteen minutes but decided not to hold back. “We lost her at mark number three for a short spell, but the satellites quickly picked her up again.”

  Kane stopped in the middle of the hall. “When did this happen?”

  “Early yesterday. I’m not concerned. It’s not the first time the men in the field lost her for a short spell. Once we call in the satellites, it’s little problem to find her again.”

  “I’m not worried about finding her. I’m wanting to find her husband. Mind yourself, Mack. You’re on thin ice already. You let the man slip through your fingers.” Kane stormed down the hall and took the steps up to the top floor. He pushed through the door at the top into a very plush and extravagant penthouse. There was an excellent view of the river. He slipped behind the bar made of polished black wood and cracked open a bottle of whiskey. He filled a tumbler to the rim and handed it to Smoke. “Have a snort, Mack.”

  “Sir, it’s a tad early. You know I can’t do my job without a clear head. I wouldn’t want to fail you again.”

  “Nonsense, Mack. Appease me as if your life depended on it.”

  Smoke eyed the whiskey. “Sir, if you aren’t pleased with my efforts—”

  “Drink it!”

  “Not on duty.” Smoke set the goblet down. “I’d rather die first.”

 

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