The Hunt: Symbiosys

by Michel Weatherall

  “As for the corpse of Senor Sanchez-Vasquez, it would never be found. It was consumed in the blast that banished Nyarlathotep and closed the Gateway on the night of June 26th, 1992.

  “I have also found evidence of credit card fraud. An American Express card under Senor Sanchez-Vasquez's name was issued in Manila, Philippines on April 7th, 1992.

  “Large cash withdrawals occurred and this credit card thief traveled from the Philippines all the way to Montreal where the fraudulent credit card was discovered and stopped at a Discount Car Rental office. We believe this credit card thief was no other than the Lorne-symbiot in possession of the Filipino Mr. Samuel's body.

  “Now, we know that the Lorne-symbiot can still freely use Senor Sanchez-Vasquez's accounts and credit cards. This was as far as our investigations went. All that I have said is in the documentation of Lorne S. Gibbons.”

  Again, Dr. Velazquez stopped to wet his parched throat. He continued, “When Professor Neilson called me a month ago he had asked me to check up on Senor Sanchez-Vasquez's credit card and bank statements. I had expected to find him listed as missing. I would have thought that his wife would have reported him as missing and the police investigations would have, at best, followed his trail to the Miskatonic University on the night of June 26th.

  “But this was not the case. There were no reports at all of Senor Sanchez-Vasquez as being anything but alive and well! His wife said that he had informed her that he would be away on business for an indefinite amount of time. In fact, she said this was quite normal of her husband. He hadn’t even said where he'd be.

  “I checked his credit card history and bank statements. There were various large cash advances throughout the world and money wired to worldwide locations. According to Senor Sanchez-Vasquez's activities, the man is alive and traveling – even though we know he is quite dead in body and soul. Combine this with Mr. Samuel's – the Lorne-symbiot's – fraudulent use of his money... It would seem to suggest that Lorne S. Gibbons did indeed survive.” Dr. Velazquez jogged his papers into a neat stack and took his seat.

  Professor Neilson stood and cleared his throat. “I believe that it was Mr. Michael Richardson who communicated with me in my dream. From Dr. Velazquez's reports it would also appear that Lorne S. Gibbons is alive and well in our world; in the here and now.”

  “You think he'll attempt to reopen the Gateway?” asked Professor Cherneski.

  “Yes.”

  “Why? Lorne's no fool. He knows what will happen. He seemed willing to give up his very own life to stop Nyarlathotep. Why open the Gateway again?”

  “As Richardson told me, Lorne's wife, Marie, was also freed. We can only assume she is joined with one of the Symbiot-species just like Lorne. That leaves two of them in our world. If I know Lorne well enough, he'll search for his wife first. This might have bought us some time.

  “In the testimony of Veronica L. Francois – Lorne's mother-in-law – it states that Lorne was working on an alteration of the music; a way of opening the Gateway so as not to summon or release Nyarlathotep. Lorne was attempting to find his wife, Marie Gibbons, and his father-in-law, Henri Francois.”

  Dr. Ramakrishna asked, “So how can we trace Lorne and Marie?”

  “Considering their power of teleportation and metempsychosis, it will be near impossible,” answered Dr. Velazquez. “But we could follow the locations of Senor Sanchez-Vasquez's money.”

  “Yes, but if Lorne can accomplish teleportation, he could have the money wired nearly anywhere in the world without revealing his location,” said the East Indian woman.

  “Richardson said that Lorne knew we'd look for him and is, in all likelihood, hiding,” added Neilson. “Following his money could be a wild-goose chase. And besides, if we were to place an agent at a location his money is to be wired to, he could easily pick out the agent. Lorne is a telepath.”

  “Neilson, how much does Lorne know about our organization?” asked Lestlie.

  “Not a lot. Why?”

  “He may not even suspect that we can trace his credit or money. Why cover your trail if you believe nobody's following you?”

  “Lorne's last known cash transfer,” began Velazquez while shuffling through his files, “No, the last three transfers, were to Tokyo, Japan.”

  “I see,” Neilson pondered. “But we can't run the risk. It may be valid or it may not be.”

  “Then what?” Kazakevich asked.

  Neilson pursed his lips in thought. He rubbed his hand over his chin. The room was so quiet one could hear the scratch of his stubble.

  Velazquez began speaking again. “Why don't we put La Bellefeuille Maison under surveillance? If Lorne does discover a way of opening the Gateway, he'll be doing it to find and free Henri Francois. He'd be doing this for his mother-in-law, Veronica. I think he'll travel to her house first to inform her.

  “We'll have the house bugged and under constant surveillance. We do not allow Veronica Francois to know. After all, Lorne is a telepath. He'll read it off of her. We have a twenty-four hour strike-team positioned -”

  The French Dr. Joselyn Belanger burst out, drowning Velazquez, “Strike-team?! Why a strike-team? What is the strike-team for?”

  Neilson stared at Velazquez, the surprise and worry obvious in his face.

  Velazquez stared at the table and sighed. He knew this would come up, although he vainly hoped it wouldn't. “Both Lorne S. Gibbons and Marie Gibbons must be executed. We cannot afford to allow them to live. The safety and sanity of the world is at -”

  Again, Belanger cut in. “Kill them! Zut alos! Monsieur Gibbons risked his life to save our world! Is this how we repay him?”

  Tears began forming in Neilson's eyes. He knew this was inevitable, but hoped against hope this call wouldn't be made.

  “The risk of allowing them to live is simply too great.” Velazquez stated stoically. “You don't know how powerful he is. We haven't a clue as to what he is capable of. None of us do. Lorne S. Gibbons will only grow in power.... And from what Neilson's student, a Timothy Paupst, has informed us...”

  Neilson cringed. How could he have brought Timothy into this? Why had he shared this information with his superiors?

  Dr. Ramakrishna cut in, “What good would killing them do? You said they have the ability of metempsychosis. They'll only reincarnate.”

  “No,” Neilson answered solemnly, defeated. “If Lorne does go to Veronica's home, he'll be opening the Gateway. Once the Gateway is opened we could have a chance of killing him. If he is killed within proximity of the Gateway, confined within the encompassing Gate-sphere, he'll become trapped in the Prison-Universe.”

  Belanger huffed her anger. “We shall let the UN Security Council decide.”

  “The present assembled council will make that decision,” Dr. Velazquez stated flatly. “It is the reason we have been called here.”

  The French woman only moved her lips. Quoi...?

  “As unfortunate as this is,” continued Velazquez, “I have to agree with Professor Neilson. Lorne S. Gibbons and Marie Gibbons should be hunted down and exterminated.”

  Neilson looked at Velazquez. “That's not what I wanted,” he thought, “And no, Velazquez, you are not agreeing with me. I've never wanted this!”

  Chapter 4: The Huntsmen

  Little did the assembled council know that Lorne was indeed in Tokyo, Japan and had no idea they could, had, or were capable of tracing Senor Sanchez-Vasquez's money.

  If the council had decided to follow the Tokyo-lead they would have found a very weakened Lorne Gibbons, nearly incapable of defending himself. A psychically crippled Lorne. The Hunt would have ended there and then. But the assembled council had chosen to pursue another route.

  As Dr. Francisco Velazquez had reported, Lorne, under the identity of Senor Sanchez-Vasquez, had large cash advances wired to Tokyo. They were deposited into the bank accounts of Shantigra Takahara.

  Lorne and Marie Gibbons had purchased a penthouse in Tokyo City proper, a very costly in
vestment. Marie had assumed the identity of Shantigra Takahara, but the penthouse was far beyond her earnings.

  However, Lorne could not assume the identity of Massao Yokomoto, for this man had died. This was a traceable and known fact. So, he would become a prisoner within their luxurious penthouse.

  They could not have risked having Massao being seen. But the Japanese concept of privacy is much different than the Western world's definition is. Indeed, in Japan a rich person is a person with many friends and little privacy, and Shantigra Takahara had been rich. Rich with friends, moderately rich with wealth, but very poor with privacy. But now?! Now she mysteriously locked herself away in her new penthouse and family and friends and guests were not permitted or invited. Shantigra's change was immediate, and highly noticeable.

  * * *

  It was late night in Canada's capital, Ottawa.

  James Leaman sat at his desk in darkness, alone. It was after hours. He was thinking; turning a thought over and over in his head.

  James Leaman worked for the Canadian Security Intelligence Service, better known as CSIS. He had been a Field Agent for the better part of the last decade. Now, he was Field Administrator and Coordinator. He now led the Field Agents, coordinated large raids and assaults, however few there were.

  He had been given this coordination assignment directly from CSIS HQ. He was told that an unspecified UN Security Council from New York had called. His assignment was multifaceted but fairly simple.

  He was to set up a contingency plan; a surveillance-team to monitor a penthouse in Tokyo.

  But his primary focus was to put together a surveillance-team and strike-team assigned to La Bellefeuille Maison, Montreal, Quebec. It was to be bugged, monitored, and under 24-hour watch indefinitely and unknown to its occupant/owner, a Mrs. Veronica Francois. It was to be of prime interest.

  They were to wait for the arrival of a Lorne S. Gibbons – no description was given – and upon Gibbons' appearance, the Strike-team were to secure the premises and execute Gibbons with extreme prejudice.

  This sounded more like an assassination to Leaman. When Leaman questioned his supervisor he was told that any other information regarding this case was on a need-to-know basis, and relevant information would be forthcoming once necessity demanded it. He was only told that it was a matter of international – no, he corrected himself, -Global security!

  “Global security,” Leaman thought out loud. “What the hell is 'Global Security'?” It was an odd choice of terms. 'National Security', 'International Security', even 'International Threat or Welfare', but never 'Global Security'.

  Who the hell was this Lorne S. Gibbons? Originally he believed the man to be some Drug-Lord or likewise associate, but he knew better. CSIS wouldn't normally get directly involved with Narcotics. No, that was the RCMP's territory.

  After his briefing this afternoon, he looked into Mr. Gibbons' past history. He found very little.

  He was born July 15th, 1961 in Montreal, Canada. He was an only child. Worked a trade job, 9 to 5 and had gone missing on February 16th, 1992 and had never been heard of since. He had no criminal record except for vandalism in 1991 at his last place of employment, but these charges were dropped.

  The only point of interest Leaman could find was that Mr. Gibbons narrowly escaped certain death in a freak explosion in Oxford, England in 1987. Gibbons had lost his wife in the accident. But that was all.

  “'Gone missing...' ha!” Leaman chuckled to himself. “More like, hiding out. But from what or whom?

  “It was Monday, February 1st, 1993. Nearly one year since Gibbons' disappearance. Could the time have anything to do with it? You know what they say?” he was talking to himself, “A thief always returns to the scene of the crime.” But that was just the problem. There was no crime.

  “La Bellefeuille Maison is owned by Mme. V. Francois – Mr. Gibbons' mother-in-law. Why would he return there? What happened?”

  Leaman had pulled the files on Veronica Louise Francois and her late husband, Henri Francois. Ah, but it was here that Leaman initially thought pieces began falling into place. Mr. Francois was also killed in the same freak accident that took Gibbon's wife. Maybe it was an insurance fraud? But he dismissed that theory. “What would that have to do with 'Global Security', or CSIS, or outright executing the man? No,” he told himself, “Lorne Gibbons was to be shot dead.” There were very specific orders to that effect. And that his mother-in-law was an innocent and not to be harmed in any way or form.

  James Leaman reached out to his coffee mug and took a mouthful of cold stale coffee, made a sour face, and spit it back into the mug. “Fuck!” he exclaimed through clenched teeth.

  He would have to assemble his Surveillance and Strike-teams tomorrow morning. He'd have to reach RCMP HQ. He had already been informed by CSIS that he would be sharing command and coordination with the Chief Superintendent Michelle Nesbitt, of the Emergency Response Team, and he was far from pleased.

  It wasn't that he didn't enjoy working hand-in-hand with the RCMP. Hardly! He viewed them as the bronze and CSIS as the brains. It was Chief Superintendent Michelle Nesbitt he had the issue with. The woman was power hungry. The minute he turned his back she would attempt to take the reigns on this assignment. Leaman knew it. He had worked with her before.

  “Cunt!” he cursed under his breath.

  * * *

  An abandoned barn had been used to conceal the surveillance team's equipment and the crew themselves. The barn lay nearly three miles down the country road from La Bellefeuille Maison.

  It was operational within the day. La Bellefeuille Maison itself had been entered while Veronica Francois was out shopping for groceries on day two. The bugs were placed, both video and audio equipment.

  The team was composed of a single surveillance member, usually the active commanding officer, and three members of a Strike-team. The RCMP were special Emergency Response Team officers (ERT) and heavily armed, equipped with Heckler & Koch MP5A3 machine guns, side-arms, riot armour,Teflon vests, and helmets.

  Leaman was very surprised to see this. Apparently the Strike-team's equipment list were authorized by Chief Superintendent M. Nesbitt. She had been informed that Lorne Gibbons was to be considered extremely dangerous and absolutely no precautions were to be overlooked. Leaman had received no such information or instructions! Or had they simply not been passed on by Nesbitt?

  But there was nothing he could do right now, Leaman tried to reason with himself and calm himself down. Nothing to do but watch and wait....

  Little did Leaman know this assignment would blossom into a near two-year stake-out.

  Chapter 5: The Fox's Den

  Hiromitsu Takahara's office was functional. Not overly luxurious, but extremely functional. He was a humble man. His office was a physical incarnation of his humility. It had everything he needed to perform his duties and nothing more. That was his way.

  He did not like to boast about his wealth. He had a job to do and a difficult one at that. He deserved the high salary he was commissioned and was happy with it. However, he did not define himself by it.

  As he sat waiting for his sister, Shantigra, he pondered, and to some degree, worried about what was the meaning of this meeting.

  Maybe she would shed some light on why she had been so distant and reclusive of late. He pondered these thoughts while watching the gray clouds roll in. It would rain today. It might even storm. He stood and walked to a large floor-to-ceiling window in his office. A large single drop of rain hit the window with a dull tock sound. He watched the wind carry it diagonally down the pane.