INCURSION: Knightmare (Knight's Bane Trilogy Book 1)

by Bryan Donihue

  Agent Smith looked at Rivera and said, "Sit down, Jesús. I'm going to get a crick in my neck staring up at you like that." He glanced down and reached for the file with Rivera's name on it.

  Opening the file, he began summarizing what was there.

  "You grew up just outside Denver, Colorado, in a good Hispanic home to first-generation immigrants. Mother Maria and father Ramon, you were their only child. Your father started taking you hunting around the age of eight, and, from all accounts you were pretty good. You originally wanted to be a Catholic Priest, having grown up in the church."

  As he read, the agent flipped through the pages, picking out the highlights. Smith continued, "Your family loved the outdoors life. You went camping, fishing, and hunting with your family all the time. During the summer of the year you turned fifteen, your family went camping in the remote wilderness. About two days in, there was a bright full moon. Unfortunately, for you, there was also a rabid wolf in the area. While you were down by the creek doing some midnight fishing, your parents were horrifically killed, torn apart by a wolf according to the local medical examiner.

  "Being the good Catholic, you turned to the church to help you with answers. Unfortunately, the priest in your parish was more interested in the altar boys than in helping you find answers. So you ran from the church, never to return.

  "You lived well with your aunt and uncle, and your inheritance paid for your admittance to Harvard. Graduated in the top two percent in Pre-Law and had a spot waiting for you at Harvard Law School. You chose the FBI, instead. You are a stand-out agent. Quickly making the selection for the HRT. Your hunting days in Colorado really helped you become a sniper. And now I want you to come work for me. I am building a highly-specialized team that will be dealing with rather... unique threats."

  Rivera felt like he had been sucker punched. Hearing his life story laid out in front of him like a deer on the butcher block, he could barely think. Smith's delivery was perfectly dry, with no emotion. He simply read out of the personnel file. Wait... How do they have my personnel file?

  Rivera was in such a state of shock that he almost missed the job offer. In fact, it was a few moments later when he finally figured out how to talk again. "What do you mean job offer? I'm happy here at HRT, despite you dragging my past back to me. What could you offer me that I don't have here?"

  "I'm offering answers and a chance to make a difference," Smith said with a smile. "There is a threat facing this country that even your elite HRT is not prepared for. That's why you joined the FBI—to make a difference. You wanted to protect families. I'm offering you an opportunity to do that on a scale you have not seen before."

  Rivera asked, "So... Terrorists? Islamists? Nukes? What is the threat?"

  Smith paused. "I cannot tell you the threat—it's classified higher than you're cleared for. But I can answer a question that you've had for a long time. It was not a rabid wolf that killed your parents. It was a werewolf. She was pack-less, and had recently been turned. We put her down when we caught her, but she killed your parents and several others before we got her."

  Rivera looked at Smith and thought for a few seconds. Did he really say 'werewolf'? What else is he hiding? Lynch is gonna' think I'm insane!

  "Now, I am behind schedule already, and my next interview is on the other side of the world," said Smith. "I'm only going ask you this question once. Do you want the job?"

  Rivera looked up at Smith and extended his hand across the table. "When do I start?"

  5

  BOOMER

  PACIFIC OCEAN, OFF THE COAST OF JAPAN.

  "What do you mean I've 'been transferred'?" The angry woman wearing standard issue Navy working coveralls was currently standing in her Division Office on the USS Ronald Reagan, a U.S. Navy aircraft carrier in the Pacific Ocean. The woman with close cropped hair cursed enough that some of the shipmates hanging around were learning new, creative combinations.

  Chief Warrant Officer Harold Goodwin stood and let the young sailor vent for a little bit. He was being a little indulgent, realizing that this transfer would probably kill the career of a very promising sailor.

  Having let her rant enough, he cleared his throat.

  "Petty Officer Callahan." Goodwin's voice was cold and quiet.

  Callahan stopped ranting. Realizing that she had just yelled at, and then cussed out, her boss, she quickly composed herself. "I apologize for my outburst, sir. I was caught totally off guard."

  Chief Warrant Officer Goodwin nodded and then said, "I understand. Did you get that out of your system?"

  "Yes, sir," Callahan said as she blushed. "Permission to speak freely?"

  Goodwin nodded. "As if I could stop you, Callahan."

  Callahan continued, "Any idea why I was transferred out, sir? Have I... screwed up lately?"

  Smiling at her restraint, Goodwin replied, "No, Callahan. You've been great out in the field... But you probably should have not reported seeing the Loch Ness Monster while diving in Scotland. And then giving your account to that reality TV show was just stupid."

  He looked at her shocked face. "You're a Petty Officer. Training other sailors how to blow stuff up. Do you really think Command wants to have one of their senior non-comms in EOD spouting off about monsters? You should have seen this coming."

  "But I never claimed to see the Loch Ness Monster, sir!" The sailor began to plead her case. "I simply claimed to have seen what seemed to be a big creature down there. I never mentioned Loch Ness. How am I gonna' get out of this, sir?"

  Goodwin liked the young Petty Officer. She was a fantastic EOD, and he actually knew her old man as a Chief Petty Officer a long time ago.

  "I'm sorry, Callahan. This order came from Norfolk. They want you transferred immediately. You are to report to the mail flight for transport to Yokosuka Naval Base. From there, you fly out to San Diego NAS, and then on to Norfolk. You'll catch your new assignment there."

  Rebekah Callahan fought back tears as she made her way to her rack. Taking a few moments to change into her dress uniform, she gathered her uniforms, gear, and personal items, which she stuffed a canvas duffle bag full. She had just enough time to tell her teammates goodbye, and then she ran to get on the delivery airplane.

  Goodwin met her on the stairs up to the flight deck. He looked her up and down with pride as she saluted him—ramrod straight, a perfect salute from the Academy. He returned her salute and caught her eye.

  "Callahan, you're great at what you do. I'll see what I can find out, I'm going to try to get you back here. Your father would be proud of you, even with 'Nessie.' You'll come out of this on top."

  Callahan fought harder to hold back her tears.

  "Thank you, sir," Callahan said, her voice choking with emotion. "I'll make them realize what kind of crappy mistake they made when they sent me to the beach."

  Goodwin laughed. "That's the Callahan that I know. You'd better hurry to catch the COD. Dismissed."

  Callahan threw one last salute and ran up the final stairs to the flight deck. As she appeared on deck, one of the crewmen escorted her to the large, unusual looking plane. Having just begun service in Carrier Onboard Delivery services, the V-22 Osprey tilt-rotor aircraft had the nose, body, and wings of an airplane, but it also had two huge propellers, one on the end of each wing. These engines rotated through a full ninety degrees. This allowed the plane to take off vertically, like a helicopter. Once it reached the proper altitude, it transitioned and rotated the propellers forward, using the turboprops to act as a normal airplane propeller. This unique method of propulsion made the aircraft a perfect replacement for the aging C-2 aircraft the Navy had been using since the 1960's.

  Once she stowed her seabag and strapped herself in, she was told they had a couple minutes while they waited for another passenger. Callahan waited impatiently, fidgeting and trying not to cry until the other passenger finally arrived and boarded.

  As he was strapping in to the uncomfortable seats, she realized he was not in uniform
. Instead, he was in a gray pinstripe suit that looked out of place on the military aircraft. Nodding politely, any greeting was abruptly cutoff as the back cargo ramp hydraulics whined as the ramp drew back up into the fuselage.

  The whine of the ramp was replaced by a louder, deeper whine of the propellers beginning to rotate. This quickly turned into a roar as the first one, then the other engine started and began rotating. Callahan gave up any thought of conversation as the engines roared and watched out the window as they slowly lifted into the air. The noise only slightly diminished as they reached altitude and the engines transitioned to forward flight. Rebekah became lost in her thoughts.

  Rebekah's thoughts drifted as she thought about her father who had passed away five, no six, years ago. He was a Chief Petty Officer in the Navy and had been stationed in Norfolk for the majority of her life. She had grown up on base, and she had fallen in love with the Navy. The only activity that drew her away from the base was racing.

  Rebekah Callahan had always loved speed. She loved to be behind the wheel, melting the rubber off her tires on track and off. When her widowed father realized that his little girl was going to go fast whether he liked it or not, he connected her with a local racing club. Sponsoring her first go-kart, Rebekah's father had been able to watch her win her first-ever race. She had never looked back. Gradually working up to dirt-track racing, while dabbling in speedboats, the only thing that made Rebekah Callahan quit racing was joining the Navy.

  As soon as she had graduated from high school, Rebekah had been in the recruiter's office to sign the paperwork. With her grades, background, and enthusiasm, Rebekah was one of the few women to be accepted to the Explosive Ordinance Disposal. She excelled at the training, earning her diving certifications, passing the EOD training, and even earning her jump wings. After five years of service, she earned her Senior EOD badge when she made Petty Officer First Class. Then she took that trip to Scotland.

  The changing pitch of the engines brought Rebekah out of her reverie. Shaking her head slightly, she realized they were landing on the helicopter pad at Yokosuka Naval Base. As the V-22 landed, the crew chief came back and dropped the cargo ramp. He yelled loud enough to be heard over the noise. "All right, you passengers, this is your stop. Up and out. The sailor at the end of the ramp will direct you."

  Rebekah grabbed her duffle and walked down the ramp. She was followed closely by the civilian. They both walked away from the plane and followed the E-5 into the building at the end of the pier. As they walked through the doors, the V-22 lifted off, heading inland toward the air base.

  Rebekah asked the E-5 where processing was, and he gave her directions. As she began walking toward the office, she realized the civilian was following her. She slowed her pace then stopped and looked at him. "Excuse me, sir. Are you lost?"

  He smiled and replied, "No, Petty Officer Callahan. Actually, I'm headed to the same office that you are."

  She frowned as she realized he must have read her name and service rank off her uniform during the flight. "Are you sure you need the processing offices, sir? Transportation is the other direction."

  He smiled almost indulgently. "No, Petty Officer. I'm definitely headed to the correct office. Shall we?" And he gestured with his arm toward the offices.

  When they reached the office doors, the strange man opened the door for Rebekah and let her enter first. Somehow, she did not expect any less—he certainly had that "gentleman" vibe to him. As she walked up to the desk, Rebekah presented her orders to the clerk. "Petty Officer First Class Rebekah Callahan. Reporting as ordered to arrange transportation to NAS North Island, with eventual destination of Naval Station Norfolk."

  The clerk read through the orders before responding. "If you'll have a seat, Petty Officer, I'll begin working on your transportation. I should have something for you soon." The clerk then looked at the gentleman behind Rebekah, and she knew that she had been dismissed.

  The strange man smiled wide for the clerk. "Hello, Cheryl. Back from the Reagan. She's a beautiful ship. Do you have a conference room that I can use?"

  The clerk returned the smile. "Certainly, Agent Smith. I've held Conference Room 1, as you requested. Commander Douglas is waiting for you in his office."

  "Thank you, Cheryl. I'll be using that conference room when I'm done meeting with Commander Douglas."

  Thirty minutes later, Rebekah watched the apparently important "Agent Smith" emerge from the Commander's office with a briefcase in his hand, and the Commander followed him out to the waiting area. As they approached her, Rebekah jumped to her feet and threw a smart salute.

  Answering the salute, the Commander looked at Agent Smith then at Rebekah. "Petty Officer Callahan. I'll be talking to you in a little bit. In the meantime, would you please accompany Agent Smith to the conference room? He'd like to talk to you about an important matter."

  Agent Smith smiled at Rebekah and then turned back to Commander Douglas and shook his hand. He waived Rebekah on, who numbly followed Smith. As they entered the conference room, Smith took the seat farthest from the door, with his back to a wall. He motioned for Rebekah to sit down and opened his case, removing a rather thick file folder with the Department of Homeland Security seal on it. Rebekah was close enough to see her name on the tab.

  The man then withdrew a set of credentials from his inner pocket and opened it, handing it across the table to Rebekah. "We got off on the wrong foot. I'm Agent James Smith from Homeland Security, and I came all the way here to talk to you specifically."

  Smith opened the file and began reading the highlights. "Petty Officer First Class Rebekah Callahan. Senior EOD Technician. Raised in Norfolk, Virginia. Race car and race boat driver. You chose EOD because you got to blow stuff up, jump from airplanes, dive in the ocean, and work with Special Forces. But mostly to blow things up.

  "You recently took a trip to Scotland to dive in Loch Ness. On the dive, you saw some sort of large underwater creature, and you decided to tell others." He looked up and caught her eye. "Oh, you did actually see Nessie, well, one of her descendants anyways. But that doesn't change the fact that CWO Goodwin thinks you were suffering from hypoxia. The skipper of the Reagan was worried about having a senior EOD tech that sees monsters. And your Command doesn't like the fact that you went on TV.

  "If you stay in the Navy, you are currently as high up the ladder as you'll go. You've been scheduled to begin training new EOD recruits. You're going to be stuck teaching new puppies how not to crap on the carpet. If you keep your nose clean and stick it out, you will retire with your twenty years in as a Petty Officer First Class. No more adventures for you.

  "On the other hand, you can come work for me. I'm putting together a rather special team to handle a rather special kind of threat to the United States. You have the skills I am looking for, and I don't care that you saw Nessie. At least she doesn't bother people too much. But I'm going to need an answer. What do you say?"

  6

  DOC

  VATICAN CITY.

  The middle-aged woman in a rather severe business pantsuit with her light brown hair pulled back into a tight bun was walking among the ancient stacks of books and scrolls in the Vatican Library. The section of the library that she was in was normally off-limits. Only a select few were ever given access to this section of the library, and this woman had received her unlimited clearance earlier that day.

  As she carefully re-shelved the book, she glanced over and saw a title that caught her eye, Monstra et Animalia, Of Monsters and Creatures. Her gloved hands carefully drew the book from its resting place, and she examined the cover. Gold leaf inlay on what felt like leather. As she opened the front cover, she saw the author's name and smiled. Of course, this would be Gustaf Van Helsing's work.

  She turned and walked toward the exit. The library itself was in a climate-controlled series of sub-basements with sections like this one having their own specially carved out rooms. As she passed through the archway, she nodded at the Vatican Guard stan
ding at attention. Speaking Italian, she said, "I'm finished, Martin. I'm only removing this one item for study. Go ahead and close the gate."

  The guard smiled at her and then closed and locked the gate securely. As she watched the gate close and lock, Doctor Noelle Sorenson, newly minted priest in the Catholic Church, signed her name on the entry log and noted which manuscript she had in her possession. She also noted that she would be taking it for an extended period, in her personal possession. She then turned and left, heading for the small apartment in Vatican City that she had called home for the last year.

  Doctor Sorenson had never intended to work for the Catholic Church and had never expected to be ordained into the priesthood, especially since the church officially only ordains men into the Priesthood. How she had ended up in the Vatican was a long and unusual tale.

  NOELLE HAD GROWN up in the United Methodist Church in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Raised as a "good Christian girl," she had been active in her local church and youth group. As she left to attend an out-of-state university, she had opted for Notre Dame for their history program.

  At Notre Dame, she had started learning about the Catholic Church and attending Mass on campus. All of her professors were Priests or lay leaders, and they seemed to have the answers to her questions. After months of attending, she had begun to attend and get involved in a local parish. Noelle graduated with honors and searched for a Master's program. After completing her degree, she had decided that she wanted to work with people. This led her back into school where she had started her new major, Sociology. Again graduating with honors, she had once again looked at the job market and did not like her prospects in her chosen field.

  Her wealthy parents had offered to support one more degree, and Noelle chose pre-med. The medical field had suited Noelle very well, and she had thrived in the classwork. After she had graduated at the top of her class, she had applied and was accepted to the University of Michigan Medical School. With glowing recommendations from her professors, she had moved to Ann Arbor and quickly found a local parish to begin attending. Her graduation with honors and her completion of the Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults to become a full member of the Catholic Church had been celebrated the same week. Noelle had soon interned, and quickly found a residency at a hospital in the Emergency/Trauma center.