"No." He shook his head. "Just… goddammit, never mind. Law enforcement won’t be involved in the business itself. It's simply that apparently, my country will need my services here at home and are willing to pay top dollar for it, right?"
"Something like that, yeah," Banks said. "Do you really think I trust this guy?"
"I really don't give a shit," he retorted acidly. "But know that I trust him, and if you don't want him involved in any way with your little task force, you can go ahead and fire me too."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Bobby said.
"Sure. The vote actually came when I hired you to help me here but sure, whatever." He grinned at his friend.
The woman rolled her eyes and sighed. "Fine. He can look at the files if you really, really need him to. Otherwise, you can think about how much you want him to be involved—or not. I don't care. I'm running on eight hours of sleep over the last forty-eight, so…come on."
They all returned to his office area and Taylor showed his employee some of the files he had been given while she fumed silently in the corner.
"Fuck me," Robert said softly. "You guys want us to hunt for Zoo monsters here in the US?"
"Correction, we want him to hunt cryptids here in the US." Banks glowered at them. "It will mostly involve investigating a variety of suspicious deaths that occur. People don't want to believe there are monsters. Some suspect and like to post shit in conspiracy websites, and that's what the FBI thought they were until reports came from the Zoo and they realized there might be some truth to the so-called conspiracies. Similar…things have appeared in other parts of the world and their agencies are handling it. We needed to deal with it in the States so the FBI was selected for that task and I was appointed. I chose people who were willing to throw themselves at monsters, and there are those who want to get away from the Zoo but also want to continue to fight it."
"Fair enough," Taylor said softly. "The fact that there are monsters here…is that merely the goop being the goop or is that some kind of human error?"
"Honestly, I'd say it’s probably a mixture of the two. But I don't know enough about the goop to provide a definitive answer although there's apparently enough evidence to support it."
"Human error will do all kinds of shit for you," Bobby said with a shrug. "There’s no need to add anything mystical to it."
"I'm not saying there's anything mystical about it," Banks responded a little acerbically. "But…well, there's something about the goop that seems like it's not here by accident. Like what it's doing isn't by mistake or natural occurrence and all the shit it’s trying to do is intentional and we simply haven't found the truth yet. It's only my own personal theory, of course."
The man grimaced, his face a little haunted for a moment. "Honestly, I saw shit in there that I can't really explain, so I'm not about to try to tell you that you're wrong. But anyway, Taylor, are you okay with all this?"
Taylor looked up from where he had slid into silence when the two had begun to talk about the Zoo. He had zoned out while reading one of the files and had honestly not even paid attention.
"Say what now?" he asked.
"Will you be okay with all this?" His friend repeated his question.
"Why the fuck wouldn't I be?" he snapped.
"Oh, right," Banks grumbled. "I did see there might be some psychological issues regarding your return to the hunting of Zoo monsters and the like."
"I'll be fine," he insisted. "Christ, you two sound like my mother, hovering over me like a fucking Apache helicopter."
"I’m simply covering all my bases," the agent said. "Protecting the bureau from any and all possibilities that you might sue us for something no one has even thought of yet."
"Fucking hell. Give me a paper to sign and we'll be fine," he said. "Of course, it would have to include the kind of paycheck I'll receive for this. And moving on, am I supposed to simply choose one of these and get to work on it? How does this kind of shit actually work?"
"Well, eventually, yes, that's how it'll work." She gathered the files. "For the moment, though, I only shared those so you would have an idea of what the work will be like. As of right now, I still need to prove to my superiors that you're a necessary asset to the task force. In fact, they have already selected a mission for you to prove exactly that."
She placed a single file in front of him. There was no title on it but when he opened it, he realized he'd seen these pictures before. Or, at least, something similar enough. And the location was the same one the news report from the night before had highlighted.
"I've seen news on this," he said. "Bodies were discovered near DC and the cops are completely lost as to what it might have been."
"You can think about it as an audition of sorts," the agent said. "If you're ready. There is a time factor, so I need a yes or no now or we'll send one of our other operatives in to deal with it."
He nodded and picked the file up. "I'm in."
Chapter Seventeen
"Fantastic," Banks said as she glanced quickly at the papers Taylor had signed and slid them into her briefcase. "I'll be back in a short while with the details of the mission."
"Don't hurry on my account," he said with a grin and waved as she headed away to file the papers with her superior before the window closed.
It seemed logical to assume a window of some kind was closing because it also explained why she had been unexpectedly pleasant. He had the feeling that she harbored less than civil feelings for him and held them in check because she needed him.
That was the part he didn’t fully understand. On one hand, there weren't that many people coming out of the Zoo who had the experience he did, so for something like this, he was a prime candidate. He didn’t need a genius IQ to grasp why she’d want him on her team.
With that said, though, if she had a strong antipathy toward him and especially if it was of the professional variety, there were enough Zoo survivors out there who could probably do the job too. Not as well as he could, of course, but that was the kind of shit that went without saying.
Which meant that whatever she had against him was personal and she kept her own feelings in check for the good of the task force. He could respect that, although he did want to know the nature of the personal feelings and what had caused them.
It could simply be that she had met him and he’d rubbed her the wrong way. That would have some part in it if it was the case, but from what he had been able to pick up about her, the bad feelings had started long before they had met. That made him wonder where they came from.
But it wasn't like he intended to dig into her past and he wasn't curious enough to ask her about it. Especially since she probably wouldn’t tell him given that she likely hated him already.
Ultimately, he didn't really give enough of a shit to worry about it. If her personal feelings overrode her professional opinions, she could fire him and he would be back where he started, opening a business and living life the way he had planned.
There really wasn’t anything remotely negative in that worst-case scenario at all.
Bobby stood and stretched with a groan before he turned to face him. "Are you sure you're okay with this?"
"Jesus fucking Christ, you're worse than my mother," Taylor said and leaned back in his seat. "Seriously, I'm fine. Better than fine since now, we have a new source of income that will help us get off the ground even faster."
"Well, you say that. Everyone says that, actually." His friend folded his arms. "But if you're bullshitting on this, no kidding, I will beat some sense into you."
"You'll fucking try." He laughed and pushed to his feet. "But that's enough shooting the breeze for now. We have work to do. I have to work on the boiler room in the basement but since I'm still waiting for the parts to be delivered, we can start on the security grid."
"Okay.” They turned and descended the stairs together. "Is there any reason why we're focusing on security for today?"
"Well, I guess you would
find out eventually, but I didn't want you to find out like this," he said, tried to inject a little fake emotion into his voice, and failed. "Twice now, some dumbasses tried to break into the place. Both times, I caught them on the motion sensors I set up and beat the shit out of them. I called the cops the first time and the second time, also known as last night or this morning, Special Agent Banks took the criminals off my hands."
"What did she do with them?" his companion asked.
"Well, it was a ‘don't ask don't tell’ kind of situation. But she might have insinuated that she killed them and burned the bodies to a crisp."
"Do you believe her?"
"Fuck if I know. I don't know her well enough to decide if she's full of shit or not. All I know is that if a federal agent talks about burning bodies for me, even if she's full of shit, I’ll maybe let her have her say."
"Do you think she'll try to do the same to you?" Bobby asked.
"I'll tell you what I do know. I won’t turn my back on her for a fucking second." Taylor opened the door and let his companion out before he joined him. "I guess one of the things I need to have installed here first is some kind of HVAC system to make working in Vegas somewhat doable."
"Have you talked to some of the contractors who can do it?"
"Not yet. There's kind of a whole list of shit we need to do here, and if we work through the priorities, the first thing on the list is security."
"Sure it is." The other man nodded. "And it's a good thing you didn't get started on any of the small stuff yet because I have connections who should be able to come in and do most of the renovations in bulk for a quarter of the price you would get."
"Yeah, I guess I reek of a tourist they can peddle their shit to for twice the regular price."
"Right. I'll call a few of them and I'll get you quotes later. Now, what do you have in terms of security?"
"Well, I set it up basically like how we would set a camp up in the Zoo." He pointed out the devices he had spent most of the past couple of days installing. "Motion sensors give me a full view of the property for about fifty yards out. When triggered, they bring the whole camera system up, which alerts my laptop and my phone about the disturbance and gives me the option to look at who it is on the camera feed should I want to."
"There seem to be too many possible holes," Bobby noted. "Like…what if someone knows about the motion sensors and decides to trigger it with an animal, get you to deactivate it, and then move in."
"Well, I do have it set to not be triggered for anything smaller than a big dog," he explained. "And the programming is set so I don't have to turn it all off simply to ignore any particularly large dogs that might wander in, intentionally or otherwise. But yeah, there are holes I'd like to fix."
"Most secure installations that use this type of equipment are military and are set up with turrets to be triggered by the security and motion sensors. What do you have set up for when someone does come in with the intention to kill you? Aside from…wait, are you still using Black Betsy?"
"It's Bat Betsy and she's silver aluminum. And yeah, I put her through her paces to beat the shit out of the guys who tried to break in here. Besides, it's not legal to set up defense turrets on US soil. I don't think they even have them in the military bases they have here."
"Well, I think they definitely do have turrets defending the higher security bases like around Area Fifty-One since people still keep trying to break in every year," his friend argued. "Fucking dumbasses. But yeah, I don't think they allow civilians to have turrets to defend their personal property."
"So, do you have any suggestions on what we could put there instead of them?" They began to inspect the motion sensors with a critical eye. "There are non-lethal options we can use, right?"
"The best I can think is some kind of turret you control manually from inside the safety of your property that shoots non-lethal ammunition," Bobby said thoughtfully. "Like…tasers or beanbags or something."
"Wait—beanbags?"
"Yeah, haven't you seen shotguns that shoot beanbags? Riot police use them all the time."
"Uh…you hear beanbags and you think fun for the family, not broken ribs."
"Yeah, I guess, although those can be painful and are even potentially lethal. I don't know, maybe a water cannon instead? Possibly with an option to deploy tear gas and smoke grenades if crowd control ever needs to be an option."
"That's…actually not a bad idea," Taylor said. "Having those bad boys to cover each entrance would definitely be good. Of course, we'd need to see if that shit's legal before we deploy it."
"Or maybe you can ask your new girlfriend to get clearance for all of it," his friend suggested slyly.
"She's not my girlfriend. Seriously, the best I could probably hope for—if I had any desire to hope, which I don’t—is a little angry sex between the two of us later down the line to get some of the tension out of the way. Aside from that, she's really not girlfriend material, at least not for me. Frivolous fun is all I'm looking for at the moment."
"I really don't want to talk about your sex life."
Which was a good thing, he decided. It would be a short conversation given the distinct lack of it.
Most of the day was spent working through the security system, and when the parts arrived for the boiler room, they took the time to install them. The work proceeded quickly with two of them involved and the hot water flowed by the time Banks called again.
"The light is green on the mission, McFadden," she said in the message she left when he didn't take her call. "I'll come over to discuss the details in person shortly."
"Don't you think you should take that call?" Bobby asked. "She is your boss now, right?"
"Nah. Just because I'm taking money from her doesn't make her my boss."
"I think it does, by definition."
He shook his head firmly. "Nope. She pays me for something she needs but I don't actually need her money. It's simple. When the supply is limited and you control it, you can basically do whatever the hell you want to the people who make the demand."
"Thanks, John Maynard Keynes," his friend responded with a laugh.
"Who?"
"He was a famous British economist."
"Oh… Fuck, whatever.” He shook his head to clear it and refocus. "Do you have any word from those insurance guys yet?"
"I had word from them saying they'll be able to come for an inspection this week. They couldn't be too specific about date or time, though."
"And since I'll travel to DC sometime in the near future, I think you'll have to cover on that for me." Taylor frowned as he considered plan B, which was to delay the inspection. "Will you be able to do that around your schedule?"
"Sure. I have already been cut from the crew in the auto-shop, so I'm clear to start here full-time. I don't think my boss liked the fact that I already had other options. Thanks to his shitty treatment, though, I do have some savings to support me if you couldn’t pay a salary—because it’s earlier than we discussed, I mean."
"Which I can, no problem there.”
"Right. Anyway, the whole thing will go forward swimmingly. Besides, I'll save you tons of money anyway when I get the folks working on the repair and refurbishing of this whole fucking strip mall."
"Okay, I’m happy if you are.”
"So, the only question that remains is whether you can do this?"
"Seriously? Do you ever quit? Besides, there's nothing more terrifying than the Zoo other than having it in a populated area," Taylor said. "I can and have killed these critters on eighty-three different occasions. As long as I'm paid for it, I'll be the hero they want me to be."
"That's really not what I asked," his friend pointed out with infuriating persistence.
"And I really don't give a shit, Mom." He grinned despite his irritation.
"Right," the man said dryly and obviously decided that was all the answer he’d get. "Although if they don't give you enough work, we could always rent out some of the spa
ces here, especially when people find out it's the most secure building in the fucking state."
"I don't like the idea of renting it out. There should be enough business for us not to have to rely on that."
"It's still a valid option."
"Agreed. And we should definitely keep it in mind, but for now… Let's focus on getting this off the ground…and the monsters out of the US."
"Fair enough." Bobby suddenly looked animated. "Do you think we should start talking about working on your truck, though?"
"Why, what did you have in mind?"
"Well, as a thank you, I thought of installing a few upgrades. While working for the parts shop, I pulled some parts for myself over the months. I could install improvements for the fuel pump, the suspension, and more importantly, for the auto-driving options."
"Go on."
"So this guy who won a shit-ton from the craps tables bought himself one of those top-of-the-line Teslas—you know, the ones that work off of an AI—and they sold it to the shop for metaphorical bananas after it was involved in an accident," Bobby said as they made their way to the garage where Liz was parked. "Without my boss knowing, I pulled the AI's computer from the wreck and it was still intact, and I've saved it for something special. I think Liz would be something special."
"Do you really think it's a good idea to give my truck a personality?" Taylor asked and stopped at the truck in question.
"Hell yeah." The man laughed. "And I can get her to respond to the name Liz too. How many guys have dreamed about being able to talk to their cars?"
"That's weird, and we should talk about that." He shook his head to clear the less than appealing thoughts. "But…damn it, I'm interested. Get the parts and we can work on it this afternoon."
Chapter Eighteen
The afternoon was one of the best Taylor had ever spent. Bobby had brought most of the parts they would need to work on his truck and thus allowed them to spend the next few hours on Liz to improve the suspension and fuel pump as the man had suggested.
Hired Killer (Cryptid Assassin Book 1) Page 15