by John J. Rust
“Same drill as before,” Rastun told him. “As soon as Karen’s asleep, I’ll sneak out and meet you at the office complex.”
They said their goodbyes and Sherlock hung up.
“Well, I guess this counts as some sort of progress,” said Geek. “I still can’t believe there’s another monster out there, and no one else knows about it.”
“Let’s just hope we have better luck with the gun kit than the weapons locker, because I want to find out who this mole is and strangle ‘em with their own intestines.”
Rastun snatched his cell phone off the dresser and went back to his room. Karen was still sitting at the table working on the FUBI photo gallery. She looked up at him and smiled.
He just stared at her. Images flashed through his mind of the Point Pleasant Monster’s attacks on the boardwalk and Bold Fortune. Karen had literally been inches away from death. If he’d been a second slower to react…
“Are you okay?” Her face scrunched in concern.
Rastun didn’t answer. He walked over to her and gave her a long kiss. When their lips separated, Karen’s face radiated pleasant surprise.
He wanted to tell her about the mole, the attempt on her life. Didn’t she deserve to know? He could trust her. How could he not after all they’d been through?
But his Army discipline kicked in. Colonel Lipeli had ordered him to keep this investigation secret. Operational security existed for a reason: To keep the enemy from finding out what you were up to, and to keep you and the men under you alive. Like he said to Sherlock, the more people who knew about something, the harder it was to keep it a secret.
So he said nothing.
A grin spread across Karen’s face. “What was that for?”
Rastun grinned back and ran his fingers through Karen’s hair. “Just because.”
THIRTY
Rastun had become intimately familiar with Karen’s body. He knew exactly where to kiss or touch her to arouse her. He knew instinctively when she wanted to go slow and easy and when she wanted it fast and hard.
Tonight was one of those fast and hard nights.
They went at it with reckless abandon. At times, Rastun half-expected the hotel manager to knock on the door and inform them about noise complaints from other guests.
When they finished, he had to resist the urge to fall asleep. Karen, however, didn’t. She lay beside him, a blanket covering the lower half of her naked body. The room’s air conditioner chilled the sweat that coated Rastun’s body. He rubbed his eyes. He was spent, but there were still things he needed to do.
You’ve led men in combat bone-tired, so this is nothing.
Rastun eased himself out of bed and checked on Karen. She was sound asleep. He got dressed, picked up his gun cleaning kit and headed for the door. He extended his hand toward the knob and paused. That’s when it hit him.
Karen still had her sunscreen.
He went to the sink counter, opened Karen’s bathroom kit and pulled out the orange and beige tube.
No one was going to use her as sea monster bait any more.
Rastun held the tube in front of him, wondering if the mole’s fingerprints could be on it.
Only one way to find out.
He put it in his pocket. With one final look at a sleeping Karen, he left the room.
Rastun stopped at the soda machine near the bottom of the stairwell and got a Mountain Dew. He drained it during the short walk across the parking lot. The jolt of sugar and caffeine should keep him going for a while.
He phoned Sherlock and made his way down the block to the office complex. Just like the other night, he constantly scanned the area to make sure no one followed him. No one did.
Rastun waited in the same spot he had the other night, between the law office and the chiropractor’s office. Sherlock arrived a few minutes later.
“I brought you a bonus prize, Karen’s sunscreen tube. I thought you might get some fingerprints off it, too.”
“Good thinking.” said Sherlock. “I recommend you find another tube to replace it so Karen doesn’t get suspicious.”
“Gotcha. It’s a common enough brand. I can get another at a convenience store.”
“I talked to Colonel Lipeli. He and Mister Parker are going to talk to my director tomorrow about adding more agents to this. Discreetly, of course.”
“Mm-hmm.” Rastun couldn’t help but wonder how long the investigation would remain discreet if they brought in more people.
It might be worth the risk if we can catch the mole.
“All right. I’m off to Washington.” Sherlock put both hands on the steering wheel. “Actually, first I’m off for coffee. It’s been a long day.”
“Same here.”
Sherlock pulled out of the parking lot. Rastun walked north, further away from the hotel. He remembered there was a 24-hour drug store about a mile away. There had to be suntan lotion there.
Then again, it was the Jersey Shore and it was July. Every store had suntan lotion.
Most of the businesses along the way were closed. A few fast food restaurants had their drive through windows open. He also passed a couple bars. One had a sandwich board sign near the door with a rather artistic rendering of the Point Pleasant Monster holding a red glass.
Come try our newest drink. The Bloody Monster.
Rastun rolled his eyes and continued to the drug store. The section for sunscreen was in Aisle Two. He found the same brand Karen used, paid for it and left the store. Rastun slowed his pace, staring at the tube, the completely full tube.
Karen’s had been half-full.
He stood over a trash can and squeezed half the lotion into it. Next, he bent and twisted the tube to give it a worn look. Hopefully it would look the same to Karen.
Rastun put the tube in his pocket and headed back to the hotel. He pondered what they would do if they couldn’t find the mole’s prints. So far nothing came to mind. He chalked it up to his tiredness and the fact he wasn’t a cop.
But the Army had trained him to gather intelligence and assess enemy strengths and weaknesses. They showed him how America’s enemies trained, organized and deployed their forces. They also taught him how to anticipate their future moves. Maybe he could put that into effect here.
First off, all operations needed personnel, both in the field and behind the lines for support. Whoever had the other monster would need drivers to transport it and security to guard it. They’d also need specialists, engineers and technicians to build and maintain its habitat. If they were smart, they’d hire some biologists or zoologists, even cryptozoologists, to make sure the monster was properly cared for. The thing was worth millions. You wouldn’t want it to die before you could sell it.
Rastun estimated such an operation would involve a few dozen people. As he’d told Sherlock earlier, the more people who knew about something, the harder it was to keep it a secret.
A loud, angry voice burst from the entrance to the bar he passed earlier.
“This is fuckin’ bullshit!” A large young man with black hair stepped halfway out. “This is a fuckin’ bar, man, and I want another fuckin’ drink!”
Rastun tried to ignore the scene and focus on the Point Pleasant Monster operation. A few dozen people would be involved at minimum. Whoever ran the show had to have lots of money.
Like that Kobel Trust Randy was associated with.
“Let me back in, you fuckers!” the big guy screamed. A slim blonde stood next to him, patting his arm and pleading with him. “Danny, c’mon. Danny, please!”
Danny backed further out of the bar. Two large bouncers appeared.
“You’re done here, buddy,” said one of them. “Now leave or we call the cops.”
The bouncers went back inside. Rastun walked by just as Danny screamed, “Fucking pussies! Fuck you!”
Danny wheeled around, half-stumbling. His gaze landed on Rastun. “What the fuck are you looking at, faggot?”
Rastun ignored him and kept walking, and thinking. T
here were countless people out there who could drive a truck or stand around and look tough. Building a habitat and caring for a sea creature took special skill and experience. Maybe they could—
“Hey, asshole! I’m talking to you!”
Rastun looked over his shoulder. Danny started over to him.
“You got a fuckin’ problem with me?”
“Danny, please.” The blonde, his girlfriend, Rastun assumed, grabbed one of his enormous biceps. “Please stop.”
“Shut up.” Danny easily broke her grip. “I asked what’s your fuckin’ problem, man?”
“Actually, I’m dealing with a lot of problems right now,” Rastun answered in an even voice. “But none of them involve you. Now I suggest you leave me alone.”
“What if I don’t? What are you gonna do about it, you little faggot?”
“Look, I don’t have time for a pissing contest. Save yourself some pain and walk away.”
“You wanna fight?” Danny staggered closer. Rastun smelled the beer on his breath. “I’ll kick your little bitch ass.”
Rastun sighed. He couldn’t see a peaceful resolution to this.
He sized up his opponent. Danny had to be 6’3 and 210, maybe 215 pounds. Very little of it looked like fat. Another opponent bigger than him. Rastun had been down this road before, including his first day of Ranger School when the instructors had the trainees pair off in a sandpit for hand-to-hand combat. He was already a black belt in Tae Kwon Do. His opponent had been almost as big as Danny and a former high school wrestler.
Rastun got his ass kicked. But in the end, the wrestler washed out while he earned his Ranger tab.
Bigger didn’t always mean tougher.
He’d soon learn how tough Danny was.
Danny stumbled to the right. He brought up his fist and cocked back his arm. He might as well have yelled, “I’m going to throw a punch now!”
Danny’s fist shot out. Rastun dodged the blow. He grabbed Danny’s wrist and twisted. Rastun pivoted and jammed his elbow into Danny’s elbow joint. Danny doubled over and cried out in pain.
“Stop it! Stop it!” the girlfriend screamed.
Rastun kept the armlock on him, resisting his Ranger training to break Danny’s arm. This was the civilian world, not a battlefield, and this guy was just an asshole, not a terrorist.
“Listen, and listen good. I have more important things to deal with than a drunk shithead like you. So whatever direction I’m walking in, you’re going to walk the opposite way. Now answer me with a, ‘Yes, sir,’ or I snap your arm in half.”
“Yes, sir. Yes, sir. I’m sorry, man.”
Rastun let go. Danny held his arm, grimacing in pain.
Rastun looked over to the girlfriend. Her wide, shocked eyes shifted between him and Danny.
“I suggest you take your boyfriend home. Better yet, get yourself a new boyfriend.”
He turned and headed back to the hotel.
Damn. I lost my train of thought. It took only a couple of seconds to remember where he’d left off.
Personnel. Maybe they could look for any animal experts or engineers with aquarium experience who were unemployed or had criminal records. That may take a while, but it wasn’t like they’d go around bragging about smuggling a live sea monster.
Why not? Not everyone took security as seriously as he did. A sense of patriotism and the threat of massive fines and jail time hadn’t stopped some soldiers and politicians from revealing sensitive information. They could have mentioned it to girlfriends or wives. They could have gotten drunk at a bar and let it slip.
The more people who knew about something, the harder it was to keep it a secret. Especially in this day and age. When someone saw or heard something, it was on Facebook or Twitter within seconds.
Rastun stopped. Is it possible?
He picked up his pace. When he got back to the hotel, he didn’t go to his room. Instead, he knocked on Geek’s door.
“Cap’n?” The former sergeant stood in the doorway, bleary-eyed and wearing an undershirt and boxers. “What are you doing here?”
“I need to use your laptop.” Rastun strode into the room.
“It better not be for looking at Internet porn, not when you got a real woman a few doors down.”
“Trust me, it’s not for porn, but it’s something I’d rather not do with Karen in the same room.”
“Ah.” Geek nodded as he closed the door. “Sounds like something to do with our off-the-books investigation. What’d you have in mind?”
“When we were in the Rangers, we reconned deserts, mountains and jungles. Now it’s time we recon cyberspace.”
THIRTY-ONE
“So what exactly are we looking for?” Geek asked as he powered up his laptop.
“Any sightings of the Point Pleasant Monster prior to its attack on Glenn Flynn and Sara Monaghan.” Rastun sat at the bland, circular table near the window.
“What, you think whoever has the other one is trying to sell it on eBay?”
“No, but maybe some of the people involved blabbed to someone they shouldn’t have. Heck, maybe someone outside this conspiracy saw something. Maybe they got a peek of it being loaded off a boat or when it was being transported. People post on Facebook when they burn a pie or if they’re in a bad mood. You better believe they’d post about seeing a monster.”
“And the rest of the world just ignores it?” Geek responded.
“Think back to over a year ago, before the Point Pleasant Monster, before those hunters found Bigfoot. If anyone posted about seeing a sea monster, what would your reaction be?”
“They’re nuts.”
Rastun nodded. “And that’s how most people would’ve reacted.”
Geek crossed his large arms. “Does the word long shot mean anything to you?”
“If you got a better idea, Sergeant, I’m all ears.”
“Unfortunately, I don’t. So I guess it’s cyber recon time.”
Geek grabbed his smartphone from the nightstand and sat next to Rastun, who said, “Let’s try, ‘Point Pleasant Monster past sightings.’”
Hundreds of thousands of links popped up for news stories, blogs, videos and posts about the monster. He and Geek went through a couple dozen results. Nearly all of them dealt with either the attacks on the boardwalk or the motor lifeboat.
“Here’s one,” said Geek. “‘Son of Philadelphia Zoo Director Saves Man from Monster.’ They even have a picture of you in your Ranger beret. Lookin’ sharp, sir.”
Rastun chuckled softly, then looked back at the screen and shook his head. “I don’t think this is going to get us anywhere. Let’s try a new search.”
He had Geek type “Sea Monsters Found Dinosaur United States” into the search engine. Rastun, meanwhile, typed “Sea Serpent Long Neck Captured.” They narrowed their search to the past five years.
Many of the websites Rastun clicked on yielded nothing useful. He thought the site “Sea Serpents of the World” might be promising. He found a couple of stories, one from Connecticut, the other from North Carolina, of eyewitnesses seeing a long-necked creature rising out of the water. Nothing to indicate they’d been captured.
He checked more sites, more blogs, more Facebook posts. They also contained nothing helpful.
“This looks interesting,” said Geek.
“What is it?”
“It’s from a year-and-a-half-ago. A Royal Bahamas navy patrol boat spotted a dinosaur-like creature off the coast of Andros Island, a hundred-forty miles from Miami. The thing had a long neck and a head like an alligator.”
“Sounds like a good description of the Point Pleasant Monster,” said Rastun. “So what happened?”
“The boat chased it for about a half-hour. They even shot at it. But they lost sight of it and never saw it again.”
Rastun’s shoulders sagged. “Moving on.”
Website after website passed before Rastun’s eyes. A few stories looked promising, but didn’t pan out. His eyelids grew heavy. He forced
them to stay open.
More time passed with no success. Rastun’s eyes burned. A hazy sensation settled over his brain. All he wanted to do was sleep.
Instead, he checked more sites, blogs and posts. Still nothing.
You could do this for days, weeks even, and not find anything.
But that meant quitting. Rangers didn’t quit until the mission was complete.
Rastun clicked on the site “The Unexplained Files.” He did a double-take when he saw some of the headlines.
Sasquatch: Missing Link or Extra-terrestrial Colonists?
The Chupacabra: The Government’s Failed Attempt to Create a Super Soldier?
“Are you fucking serious?” he muttered.
“What?” Geek turned to him.
“Nothing. Just more crazy shit.”
Rastun was about to exit the site when another headline caught his eye.
Sea Serpent Captured, But Where Is It?
Rastun’s finger hovered over the touchpad. Was this another dead end? Would he find some outlandish story of government conspiracies and genetic experiments?
He clicked on the story. It was dated from March of last year and just a few paragraphs long. When he finished reading it, he forgot about his tiredness.
“Geek. Check this out.” He turned the laptop so Geek could see it, then read the story again.
A few months ago, the boat I was on caught an amazing creature. It looked like a dinosaur, not a really big one. Some of the crew members tried to beat it to death with poles but that didn’t work. Actually, the monster got really pissed and started snapping at them.
Our captain decided to take it back home. He also took away our phones and computers so we couldn’t contact anyone, which I thought was bullshit. I mean, this was one of the most incredible discoveries ever.
But everything went to hell before we docked. A friend of mine got too close to the monster and got his leg bit off. Then when we docked, there were all these tough-looking guys I’d never seen before. They took the monster and told us to shut up about it.
Well, I’ve kept quiet long enough. Me writing this may not convince you this creature exists, but one day I’ll have proof. I’m close. I’m going to blow this whole thing open.