Devil Hunters (Tales of the Crypto-Hunter Book 2)

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Devil Hunters (Tales of the Crypto-Hunter Book 2) Page 6

by Rick Gualtieri


  “Just do your damn job, Reg.” The governor hung up the phone and stared sourly at it for several seconds, as if daring it to ring again. Finally, he turned his pudgy face toward Eric, his way of letting his subordinates know it was okay to speak.

  “Everything on the up and up, sir?”

  Yarlberg scoffed. “Tell me, Eric, what’s the point in having a fucking press secretary if I have to hold the man’s hand every step of the way?”

  It was a rhetorical question, but Eric knew better than to stand there silently. Obviously his boss had a point he was trying to make. “I’m not sure I can answer that, sir.”

  “It’s all about deflection.” The governor reached into his desk, pulled out a candy bar, and began tearing the wrapper off. “Lord knows the assholes in the press aren’t stupid enough to expect honest answers these days, so why bother trying to give them one? Just tell them an investigation is underway and no details are forthcoming. Gives them something to hand to their editors. Makes them all happy so they can go home, fuck their wives, and bother me about something else tomorrow. This isn’t rocket science.”

  “If you say so.”

  “And that pussy Donald is no better. I swear, he’d crack like an egg if he so much as saw a microphone pointed his way.”

  Eric nodded. Now it was making sense. Donald Krychech was the head of the agency in charge of environmental protection. His group was currently in the hot seat – something to do with a toxic spill on protected land. Eric didn’t really care about the details. The only reason his agency wasn’t being roasted alive on the airwaves was because the press was busy focusing on what they were trying to spin as a new serial killer on the loose. Problem was, this alleged killer’s hunting ground seemed to coincide with the area that Krychech’s people were busy trying to keep everyone’s eyes off of. In short, it was only a matter of time before the shit hit the fan and Yarlberg went through the roof.

  Fortunately, that was the reason for Eric interrupting the governor’s day. “Hopefully that won’t be the case, sir.”

  “You have news?”

  “I do,” Eric replied, still standing. The governor almost never invited his staff to sit. “That ... team you requested. They’re on the ground and heading here.”

  “It’s about goddamned time.”

  “If I may be so bold as to ask, sir, what exactly are a bunch of D-rate actors going to do to help this situation?”

  The governor sat back in his chair, a satisfied grin appearing on his face as he munched on the chocolate bar. Eric knew that look well. It was probably a good thing his boss didn’t have a gambling addiction in addition to his other vices. He had a terrible poker face.

  “Appearances can be deceiving. Fortunately, I am in a position where I have friends who are able to help me see more clearly than most.”

  “I’m not following.”

  Yarlberg opened a different drawer in his desk. Eric assumed it would be to pull out another snack, but he instead produced a file folder which he held out. “Here. Read through this. It’ll make it all clear.”

  Eric took the file and opened it. He immediately noticed the security classification stamped on the first page. “Um, sir, I’m not sure I should be...”

  “Hogwash. I’ll determine who has a need to know and I say you do.”

  Suddenly, Eric found himself wishing he’d thought to record this conversation. “If you say so.”

  “I do. After you read through that, you’ll know what I mean. By inviting them here, they’ll throw off the scent of those press hounds. But the best part is, they might actually be of use in solving this mess before it turns into a full-blown shit storm.”

  Eric nodded, not entirely sure what the governor was talking about. However, he planned to make good use of the two hours he had to bring himself up to speed. “So you want me to roll out the red carpet, treat them like VIPs?”

  “Quite the contrary.” Yarlberg crumbled up the candy wrapper and tossed it toward the trash can, missing it completely. “I’ve dealt with these types before. Give them an inch, they’ll take a mile and ask for more. No. I want you and your team to make it crystal clear to them who’s in charge here. They’re to be kept on a very short leash. They step out of line, you smack them back into it.”

  “But...”

  “But nothing. Do as I’ve told you and let me worry about the rest. I have it handled.”

  Eric debated questioning his boss, but then thought better of it. He had no love of the feds anyway, having been turned down several years earlier when he tried to apply to the FBI straight out of school. He knew it was petty to take that out on people he’d never met, but the governor was pretty clear on his marching orders. He figured he might as well have some fun with it.

  “Any more questions?”

  Eric hesitated for a moment, then shook his head.

  “Good.” Yarlberg picked up the phone and dialed. “Reggie? It’s me again. I want you to arrange a press conference. Yeah. For today. Yes, I know it’s short notice...”

  Eric knew he’d been dismissed. He turned and walked from the governor’s office, glancing down at the folder in his hands.

  He had some reading to do, and apparently he needed to be quick about it.

  CHAPTER 7

  Route 1 proved to be closer, in actual practice, to a parking lot than a major highway, but at least it gave the team plenty of time to compare notes. Derek patched in the other vehicle via cell phone, although he knew it would mostly be Mitchell doing the talking. Francis was typically more interested in shooting than research, whether it was with a camera or a gun.

  Derek went over the basic details of the case. He knew everyone had read the briefing beforehand, but he always liked to make sure they were all on the same page, especially since they had a meet and greet scheduled at the state capital before being allowed to do their jobs.

  “Probably want to make sure we dance like good monkeys,” Francis commented.

  After Derek was done, Danni recounted her notes from the archive files.

  “See what I mean about it being a dead end?” Derek remarked when she had finished.

  “Yeah, I guess so,” she replied, still inching along with the traffic. “Although that whole town-wide exorcism was a little freaky.”

  “Leave that stuff to the ghost hunters,” Mitchell said from over the speaker.

  “Mitch is right,” Derek replied. “I’m not quite ready to chalk this up to the metaphysical. Besides, if there is a devil, I’m sure there are far more interesting places for him than some unoccupied marshlands.”

  Danni shrugged. “I know. I’m not trying to suggest there’s anything supernatural here. It’s just weird. That priest put on a show for everyone and voila, the Jersey Devil mysteriously stayed quiet for sixty years.”

  “Coincidence,” Francis said.

  “More likely it was power of suggestion,” Mitchell offered. “The locals believed their personal boogeyman was banished, so he was. They told their kids and so on. Fast forward a couple of generations, people start to forget the stories. Tensions are running high. The U.S. is just pulling out of the Great Depression, and suddenly Germany is beating the war drums again. People needed a distraction so, much like magic, the devil showed up again.”

  “And then people got distracted in a whole other direction by World War Two,” Danni surmised.

  “Exactly.”

  “I guess that makes sense.”

  “Nothing about this cryptid makes a lot of sense,” Derek replied. “That’s why nobody takes it seriously. It has all the hallmarks of an urban legend that just won’t die.”

  “Isn’t that why we’re here?” joked Francis, making a kapow noise.

  “I doubt it. My guess would be those people simply got lost.”

  Mitchell chimed in to agree. “The Barrens are half forest, half swamp. They could have easily fallen in a sinkhole or stepped in some quicksand.”

  “Not a pleasant way to go,” Danni said.
>
  Derek chuckled. “Contrary to popular belief, outside of dying in my sleep of extreme old age, I can’t think of too many ways to go that I would classify as pleasant.”

  “Death by snu-snu comes to mind,” Francis replied from the speaker.

  “What’s that?” Danni asked.

  “You don’t watch much TV, do you?”

  “Never have.”

  “Your loss. It’s a damn funny show.”

  Derek sighed. “Can we stay on topic, please?”

  “Yes, Mom,” Francis replied with a laugh.

  “The other possibility, as I see it,” Mitchell said, steering the conversation back toward being serious, “is human-related.”

  “Murder?” Danni asked.

  “Maybe.”

  “What do we do if that’s the case?”

  “Call America’s Most Wanted,” Francis replied. “That’s more their line of work.”

  Derek nodded toward the speaker and said, “We call in the authorities and bow out gracefully. I don’t care who’s pulling the strings – we’re not anyone’s private police force.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  The rest of the trip was spent discussing the flora and fauna of the Pine Barrens and considering whether any native species might be responsible for the disappearances. Alas, there weren’t many top predators to point the finger at. Black bears were known in the area, but encounters with them were usually easily avoided. Everything else was either too small or a prey animal. More and more, Derek began to suspect the true culprit was simply human error. People got lost in the woods and died. It was something that, unfortunately, happened. One didn’t need a swamp monster or living dinosaur to blame for ninety-nine percent of such happenings.

  At last, they entered the Trenton city limits. Francis commented, “Lovely. Reminds me of Detroit,” right before Derek disconnected the call. It was time to focus on finding their destination amidst the winding streets.

  A few minutes later, having been guided by GPS, Derek informed Danni, “Pull into that garage.”

  “This the place?”

  “We’re a couple of blocks south of the capitol building – close enough to meet with whoever wants to talk to us, but far enough away so that nobody sees us coming in.”

  She turned on the lights so as to navigate the parking garage. “So we’re their dirty little secret?”

  “Aren’t we always?”

  They drove the SUVs to the top floor. There, standing in front of an elevator, were two men in suits. Upon seeing the vehicles, they waved them over and directed them to park.

  Derek wasn’t looking forward to this. He just barely tolerated their producers back west. Politicians were often far more than he could stomach. That the governor of New Jersey had pulled strings and not been shy with his threats told him there was a better than average chance he was going to loathe the man.

  The team parked and stepped from their vehicles. With Derek in the lead, they approached the suited men.

  One of the duo stepped forward and addressed them. “Dr. Derek Jenner?”

  “Yes. And this is my team.”

  “I’m Eric Zeist, Governor Yarlberg’s personal security director.”

  “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Zeist. Now if you could just tell us where...”

  “All in good time. For now, I must ask that you leave your possessions locked in your vehicles.”

  Derek chuckled at what he presumed to be a joke. “We haven’t unpacked the cameras. Not much point looking for monsters in the middle of the city.”

  “I meant whatever armaments you might be carrying. We’re aware of what you really do.”

  “They told you?!” Francis cried from the rear.

  Derek turned and gave him a warning glance before continuing. “That’s highly unusual. If you know what we do, then you know we’re considered undercover federal agents reporting to the Department of...”

  “We are also well aware of that,” Eric interrupted. “You can rest assured that the governor has the proper clearance and has only informed those on his staff who can be trusted.”

  Those who can be trusted? Derek was tempted to inform the man that this wasn’t the way items of a sensitive nature were handled. For all he knew, the good governor also included his drinking buddies as those he trusted. Derek made a mental note to discuss this in depth with Norah once he had a moment. Elected officials, including the one who’d summoned them, weren’t the only ones with friends in high places.

  “Now, if you’ll please raise your arms, this will only take a moment,” Eric continued. He motioned to the other man, who produced a portable metal detector.

  “Do you think we came all this way just to shoot your boss?” Danni asked.

  “We don’t joke about those types of things, miss,” he replied emotionlessly. “Now, kindly do as you’re told.”

  Derek spoke up before anyone else on his team could say something that would only make the situation worse. “It’s okay. When in Rome...” He lifted his arms and stepped forward to let the man scan him.

  He finished the rest of his thought silently, reminding himself that just before the fall of the empire, Rome had become little more than a stinking cesspool.

  CHAPTER 8

  After ensuring the team wasn’t a threat, the two men led them into the elevator of the garage. They went down several floors until Danni was certain they must be below ground level. The doors opened into a nondescript passageway lit by fluorescent bulbs.

  “Follow us and please keep up,” Eric said, marching forward. The team followed, flanked at the rear by the other man on Zeist’s detail. Danni glanced at Derek questioningly. He gave her a small shake of his head, which she took as indication to keep her questions to herself for now.

  She wondered whether this sort of thing was typical. Aside from an eight-week survival training course at Fort Bragg, Danni’s association with the government-related portion of the job had been limited. She had been to a few offices in D.C., had logins to some systems, and had been given a thorough background check. Not that she had much of a background to check; she was still technically only a sophomore after all.

  But this? It felt as if she had stepped into a cheap rip-off of those Jason Bourne movies. Then again, maybe that was the point: to try to intimidate them.

  If so, they were falling a bit short. The suits that the governor’s men wore didn’t match. If anything, they’d probably been purchased off the rack. The metal detector wand they had used was no different than those found at the entrance of any amusement park.

  Zeist himself also showed the same kind of inconsistency. He was a big man with close-cropped, black hair, almost a crew cut. His bent nose suggested he’d seen his fair share of fights. Yet the way he carried himself didn’t strike her as ex-military for some reason. She had seen plenty of soldiers during her training. They all carried themselves with a certain bit of ... it was hard to explain ... precision that Zeist lacked.

  The only question was, where were they being led? Danni imagined some faux Oval Office type setup was the most likely candidate. There, the governor could keep them out of sight from the general public while also putting on whatever dog and pony show he had planned for them.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

 

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