Homecoming

by Heath Stallcup

  “Oi, isn’t this the chap that beat you to a bloody pulp?” A short and solidly built man with a short trimmed red beard asked.

  Sheridan patted Apollo’s shoulder. “No worries, Big. He’s with us, now.”

  “That still won’t keep my foot out of his arse, now will it?” The little man had spirit, but Apollo wasn’t sure if that was enough to endear the little loudmouth to him.

  “Better check yo’self.” Apollo squared off, and Sheridan stepped between the two.

  “Easy there, chaps. We’re all on the same team, right?” He pointed to the red bearded fellow. “This fellow is Bigby. We just call him Big.”

  “Don’t look so big to me,” Apollo muttered.

  “Big enough.” Bigby turned back to his work, occasionally glancing up at the intruder.

  “Easy, boys. Apollo here is going to help us with our ‘Jack’ problem.”

  “The Yank knows where the mongrel is hiding, does he?”

  “I’m more of a Tigers fan, if you catch my meaning.” Apollo waded into the room and took it all in. Although the office itself was rundown, the equipment inside rivalled that of the OPCOM. “You got yourself a pretty nice little setup here.”

  “Aye, that we do. And you best keep your booger hooks off it, too.”

  “Little man, I’m about to shove a size eighteen right up your—”

  “Okay, that’s enough.” Sheridan pointed his cane at Bigby. “I mean it. No more. We need you two to work together.” He shifted and gave Apollo a knowing stare. “No in-house fighting. Got it?”

  “Put a leash on your boy there and we good.”

  “Oi, is that a wolf joke?” Bigby swelled for another confrontation.

  “One more and I’m going to let him have at you,” Sheridan threatened. “Is that what you really want?”

  Bigby studied Apollo then sat back down. “He just saved your life, he did.”

  Apollo let the little man have the last word. Something told him that if he didn’t, it would just keep going. “So what’s the plan?”

  “The plan is a two-pronged attack. Just like we discussed. You’ll lead an attack squad against Jack’s outpost and Big here will lead one against your boys at the base.”

  Bigby bristled. “Why does he get to lead the attack against the—”

  Sheridan interrupted, “Because he’s been there before. He may not have the bloody place memorized, but at least he’s familiar with it. Plus, he has the coordinates to the island. Do you want to take a small fleet of boats and just go cruising in the Atlantic until you bump into it?” Big sat back and harrumphed. “I didn’t think so. At least you know where the bloody hangar is. So be quiet and listen. You’ll get your chance.

  “Now, where was I? Oh, yes. You’ll take a squad to the island and cause merry mayhem while Big takes another squad to the hangar and does his best to bring it down around their bloody ears.”

  Apollo nodded. “Who’s my squad?”

  Sheridan pointed out the office window. “Some of those chaps. They may not be up to Monster Squad potential, but they’re all wolves and they’ve had their share of fight training. Enforcers of our benefactor.”

  “He got the same peeps on his crew?”

  Sheridan nodded. “For the most part, that is affirmative. You see, once I left, I approached a few good men from my squad and convinced them to come with me.”

  “Like you did me?”

  “More or less.” Sheridan patted the large man’s shoulder. “You see, Big here is dead.”

  “Dead and buried I am. Rotting in the ground as we speak.” The red bearded little man laughed as if he were the only one privy to a joke.

  “There were a couple of others that I tried to convince to come with. Only one did. He faked his death, and now he’s here with us.”

  Apollo wrinkled his brow and gave Sheridan a puzzled stare. “What about the other one?”

  “Well, I couldn’t very well have the man rat us out, now could I? Let’s just say he didn’t have to fake his own death.”

  “Silver bullet to the noggin’. Clean and simple. Called it a suicide, they did.” The red bearded guy seemed a little too excited about that fact.

  “What you gonna be doing during all of this?”

  Sheridan tapped at his leg. “Bum foot. I’m afraid the only useful thing I can do is shift and tear stuff up. So, I’ll be going with Big.”

  “And who’s running these shows?” Apollo wasn’t sure he was going to like the answer to this question.

  “Well, in our case, I will be until I shift. Then Big will be directing the action. Seeing as how I’ll lay out the plan as best I can beforehand, he’ll really only be supervising the slaughter.” Sheridan placed a pen and paper in front of Apollo. “And we’d really appreciate it if you could give us a detailed layout of the internals of the hangar.”

  “I can do that. But answer me this. Who’s gonna be running the show on the island?”

  Sheridan gave Apollo a reassuring smile that definitely left him feeling greasy. “You will be, mate. It’s your show there. You will be the senior monster in charge.”

  “I can dig it.” Apollo picked up the pen and began drawing.

  *****

  John stepped off the back of the Raptor and patted the side of the truck. “I think I’m going to like this.”

  “Evan did a hell of a job, didn’t he?” Spalding unhooked the harness from the back of John’s tactical vest and placed it in the cargo compartment next to the gun mount.

  “I’m loving that swivel harness. If you drive like an idiot and bounce the gunner off their feet, they can free float and still shoot.”

  “What do you mean if I drive like an idiot?”

  John paused, unable to backtrack. “What I meant was, if the driver…drove like…um, hit a bad bump and…”

  Spalding laughed and waved him on. “You take stuff too serious sometimes.”

  “Note to self, do not call the boss an idiot.”

  “I’m not the boss, just the Team Leader.” Spalding held the door open for John as he went through.

  “Why do you that?”

  “Hold the door for people? It’s polite.”

  “No.” John searched for the right words. “Belittle your accomplishments. You are the Team Leader. Your squad looks to you for direction. That makes you the boss.”

  “Negative. That makes me responsible, but not the boss.”

  John stopped walking and shook his head. “That isn’t right. If you give an order, we’re expected to obey it.”

  “Because I’m the Team Leader.”

  “And you earned that.”

  “Yes, John, I did. I’m the second most senior operator, so they made me Second Squad Team Leader. But that doesn’t make me special.” Darren pulled him aside so they weren’t blocking the hallway. “Look, you have better shooting scores than I do. Ing and Ron both have much higher hand-to-hand scores than I do. Donnie…well. He’s Donnie.”

  John snorted. “Okay, yeah, but you…what branch were you?”

  “I wasn’t.” Darren let that sink a moment. John stared at him with disbelief. “I was a CIA operative before I came to the squads.

  “Now, true, I had field experience and I was a prior Marine. But being a sniper in the Marines does not equate to being a NAVY SEAL or a Delta Force soldier or a Combat Controller.”

  “Wow. Really? A spook, huh? I never would have guessed.”

  “Most don’t. And I keep it that way.” He gave him an expectant look. “Most of these guys were bad asses before they ever got here. Before the augmentation. Before the special training. Me? I was just a CIA field op.”

  John narrowed his gaze. “Somehow I feel like you’re holding a lot back when you say that.”

  Spanky shrugged. “Maybe…maybe not. The real question is, do you still trust me to cover your six in the field?”

  John didn’t hesitate. “Hell yeah.”

  “Then that’s all that really matters. Trust your squad m
ates.” He tapped his breast pocket where he kept Brooke’s picture. “Trust them. They’re better at understanding than you might think.”

  Darren turned and walked off leaving John alone with his thoughts. He instinctively reached for the picture in his pocket and felt the satisfying crinkle of the photo paper under the material.

  “Trust my squad mates.” He nodded to himself as he fell into step.

  *****

  “Colonel, we have something you need to look at.” Jericho Jones waved a sheet of paper just outside his door.

  Colonel Mitchell groaned. “What else could possibly go wrong?”

  “Not necessarily wrong, sir, just…different.”

  “Different?” Mitchell waved the man in and Jericho quickly closed the space between them.

  “Hot off the press, sir. I have no earthly idea what it is.”

  Mitchell looked at the hot sheet and shook his head. “Me neither.” He glanced up at Jericho. “Where’s Tufo?”

  “Not in his office, sir.”

  Mitchell pushed up from his chair and grabbed his hat. “Activate whoever’s up next.”

  “Third Squad, sir.” Jones fell into step behind him as he marched toward the OPCOM.

  “Sweet Jeebus, this is already seconded? How did that happen? We didn’t even see the first report.” Mitchell glanced at his watch to see how much time was already lost.

  “Both spotters were together, sir. They verified at the same time.”

  Matt paused. “Can they do that?”

  Jericho shrugged. “I don’t know, sir. You wrote the rule.”

  Matt shook off the conundrum and headed for the OPCOM again. “Activate the squad. I want them gone ten minutes ago.”

  “Aye, sir.” Jericho took off at a dead run, tapping into his ruggedized PDA at the same time.

  Mitchell pulled his radio, “Mark, we got a live one. Third Squad is going active now.”

  “Copy that. On my way.” The static filled reply indicated he was probably top side.

  Matt pushed open the door of the OPCOM and flipped the breakers, bringing the room up to full power. Technicians and monitoring personnel began filtering into the room and assuming their stations. When the room was manned and Tufo stood at the door, Matt addressed the group. “We have a Class II sighting in Louisiana. Unknown hominid.”

  “Unknown?” Mark raised a brow.

  Matt punched some buttons on the console and a digital photo came up on the big screen. What people saw could only be described as ‘unknown’. “My best guess is it’s some kind of goblin or ogre.”

  “Negative on the ogre, sir. They usually travel in pairs or more,” a tech responded.

  “Agreed, but since we only have a picture of the one, we have an unknown quantity until we can verify otherwise.” All eyes fell to the creature that appeared to have scaly skin, but with patches of brown hair across the top of its skull and down its back. Thick muscular arms and legs ended in three fingered hands with thick, claw like nails. A short, thick tail extended behind it, almost like a vestigial tail, but thicker, as if the butt simply hadn’t stopped growing. The most striking features were the red bulbous eyes that sat nearly atop its head. The flat nose below it sat atop a very wide mouth with short razor sharp teeth.

  “That mouth reminds me of a frog,” a voice from the rear stated.

  “Ever see a frog with teeth like that?” another replied.

  “Okay, hold the conjecture.” Matt raised his hands to stifle the outbursts. “I know things have been a bit slow lately, but it’s not every day we come across a new species.” He turned to Mark. “Contact the clean-up crews. Make sure that we get samples back to the doc. I want to know what the hell this thing is.”

  “Roger that, Colonel.”

  “Okay boys and girls, batten down the hatches and saddle up. It’s time to make the doughnuts.”

  *****

  Damien slowly closed on the villa and listened intently before approaching the door. He paused his breathing and strained his hearing. Nothing stirred within the walls. He extended his nails and prepared for attack when the door slowly opened. Rachel stood silhouetted in the doorway, her form nearly taking his breath away. “You’ve returned.”

  He withdrew his nails and slowly closed the distance between them. Something sounded ‘off’ in her voice. “Yes, I just got back.”

  “Took you long enough.” She turned and disappeared within, leaving him watching and waiting.

  Damien entered the villa softly, his guard up the entire time. “Are you okay?”

  “I ate a family.” He turned quickly to see her sprawled out on a lounger in the family room; blood splatter could be seen on nearly every wall.

  “So, you should be good for a trip home then.” He stepped inside and over the prone body of a woman dressed in a housecoat.

  “I don’t like this.”

  He did a double take. “Don’t like what?”

  “This.” She indicated the bodies scattered about. “This taking of so many lives just because…well, because we need to live.”

  Damien gave her a confused stare. “Are you okay? Are you feeling yourself?”

  She rolled her eyes and turned away from him. “I feel fine.” She suddenly stood and was in front of him before he noticed the movement. “Other than the remorse for killing so many people.”

  Damien placed a hand on her forehead. “I don’t think it’s possible you could be feverish.”

  She pushed him away violently and stalked passed him. “You aren’t listening. You never listen. You only hear what you want to hear.”

  Damien watched her storm out of the villa and into the darkness. He quickly went after her, his hand wrapped around the stone heart in his jacket pocket. “Wait, I have something.”

  “I know what you have. I can feel its presence on you.” She turned and he didn’t recognize the ferocity in her eyes. “I don’t want it. You should throw it into the ocean and forget you ever laid eyes on it.”

  He stared at her with amazement. “I thought this was what you wanted? I thought—”

  “You shouldn’t think, lover. It’s not your forte.” She pushed passed him and began walking down the lane.

  Damien felt his anger rise. He had gone on this mission…this quest on her behalf. When she first made herself known to him, this was her calling for him. She convinced him that it was his purpose in life. It was his calling. He was the one who was supposed to bring her back to her full glory. Him!

  He moved so suddenly that she didn’t hear him, and he tackled her to the ground. In her younger vampire body, she was no match for his stolen strength and power. He pinned her to the cold, damp ground then spun her over to face him.

  “You started this,” he hissed. “You started me on this stupid search to find all of your missing parts and now that we have the final piece you suddenly want to call it quits?” He pulled the petrified heart from his jacket and held it in front of her. He actually took great pleasure in seeing the shock and fear in her eyes as he rolled the withered husk around in his hands over her face. “I should ram this down your throat and watch you try to hack it up.”

  Rachel suddenly went limp under him and turned her eyes away. “Go ahead,” her voice barely a whisper in the misty night air.

  Damien sat upright and stared at her, unsure what to do or say next. “Do what?”

  “You heard me. Go ahead.” She finally met his shocked gaze. “If it means that we can finally be done with this, then I won’t resist. At least I won’t have to wonder where you’ll find enough pure blood to revive my corpse.”

  Damien sat back and studied her through narrowed eyes. “Is that what this is about?”

  “Partly.”

  “You’re worried about…” He tossed his head back and laughed a deep, hearty laugh. “The Lilith I know wouldn’t give two shits about where the blood came from. She wouldn’t care about killing an entire town if it meant she got a single meal from it.” He stood and brushed the dirt
from his pants. “You’ve been trapped in that body too long. The humanity is still fresh in it.”

  Rachel made no effort to stand. She lay on the ground and watched him tower above her. “You say humanity like it’s a bad thing.”

  “When they’re our food, it is.” He held out a hand to help her up, but she ignored it.

  “You haven’t fed from humans in so long you’ve probably forgotten what they taste like.” The attempt at a barb had little effect.

  “No matter, darling.” Damien shoved the heart back into his jacket then pulled her to the waiting car. “We have a plane waiting to take us back. Once we’re there and we have you safely tucked back into your body, you’ll thank me.”

  Rachel said nothing as he shoved her into the passenger seat, but she sent up a silent prayer to any God who would listen to a vampire as he drove them to the private airport.

  16

  Mark hung up the phone and typed the commands into the keyboard, pulling up what little stats he could glean from the spotters on the ground near Lake Charles. Both spotters had been on a fishing trip together and followed up on the report of a ‘swamp critter’. Hearing reports of everything from a walking catfish to a giant mudskipper, the two men finally found the tracks of the beast and followed it along the edge of a bog before spotting the creature emerging from a wooded area near Lake Charles and making its way north. One of the spotters had the foresight to tag the creature with a radio frequency tag in the event it took to the water before the squads could respond.

  As more cell phone photographs came through, Mark transferred them to the teams PDA’s and updated their intel with the radio frequency ID. “They’re saying it’s a slow mover, but it looks pretty stout. Remember, gators move slow out of the water, but they’re still strong. Don’t try to manhandle this thing.”

  “Copy that, OPCOM. Do we want it live or simply dealt with?” The sound of the helicopter’s blades chopping through the air cut through the background of the transmission.

  Mark looked to Colonel Mitchell who watched the dot of the approaching craft close on the location of the spotters. Mitchell glanced over his shoulder and shrugged. “Your call.”