The Supernatural Bounty Hunter Files: Special Edition Fantasy Bundle, Books 1 thru 5 (Smoke Special Edition)

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The Supernatural Bounty Hunter Files: Special Edition Fantasy Bundle, Books 1 thru 5 (Smoke Special Edition) Page 17

by Craig Halloran


  “Sir, what am I supposed to do with him?” she said, throwing her thumb back at Smoke.

  “You’ll figure it out.” Ted gestured for them to leave. “Let’s go. The bad guys don’t stop just because it’s the holidays.”

  Sidney headed out of the office with Smoke right behind. Man, this is so weird.

  “Jane,” Ted said, “I’ll be back in Monday. Merry Christmas everybody.”

  Sid saw Jane watching Ted’s lumbering form dash for the steps and disappear through the doorway. Jane sighed and shook her head then glanced over at Smoke. Her smiling eyes were filled with him. Sidney tapped his arm. “We have to go.”

  “Sure,” he said. “Nice meeting you, Jane.”

  “You too, Mister Smoke.” She batted her eyelashes. “I hope I see you again soon.”

  “Come on,” Sidney said, taking him by the elbow and steering him down the hall. She began nosing through the file as they headed down the stairs. The black file folder was almost a half inch thick. It had a white tab on it marked Harlow. There were names, dates, pictures, and locations. The main thing that caught her eye was the Drake logo. That and another. A black sun.

  “Can I see that?”

  “No,” she said, pushing her way through the elevator door and heading for her desk. As soon as she got there, she put on her jacket. Smoke was watching her. His handsome face stared right into her eyes. “What?”

  “You seem rattled.”

  Pull it together, Sid. Man, he looks nice in a suit.

  She plopped down in her chair. “I’m not really big on one-eighties. Pull over a seat, why don’t you.”

  Smoke reached across the aisle and dragged a four-legged chair into her cubicle and sat down.

  “Okay,” she said, scooting away, “not exactly built for two.” She took half the papers out of the file and handed them over to Smoke. A sealed envelope fell out, marked Shaw. Smoke beat her to it. She snagged it away. “For my eyes only.”

  Inside, she found another letter like the last one, on old Bureau letterhead. It said almost the exact same thing.

  Agent Shaw,

  Due to the unorthodox arrangement of this assignment, you will need to keep the following items under consideration.

  John Smoke is a convicted criminal with special skills. Don’t underestimate him. He’s dangerous. Unpredictable. Possible escape risk.

  You have eyes on him and we have eyes on him. Allow him free range. We’ll let you know if he needs reeling in.

  If any alien objects or circumstances or individuals are encountered, you should notify your superiors immediately.

  Seek Mal Carlson for assistance when needed.

  Shadow cover authorized.

  Trust your instincts and good hunting,

  The Bureau

  Whoa! Shadow cover? Who is Mal Carlson?

  “What does it say?” Smoke said without glancing up from his papers. “Let me guess. I’m a dangerous criminal who can’t be trusted, and if any strange circumstances arise, then notify your superiors immediately.”

  Sidney stuffed it back in the envelope. “It says if you don’t do whatever I say, I get to shoot you.”

  “I like the sound of that.”

  “What, me shooting you?”

  “No, me doing whatever you say.”

  Sidney flushed around the collar. “Let’s get something to eat.” She took his papers and put them in the folder and stuck it inside her satchel. “I imagine you’re up for some pancakes.”

  “I was thinking milkshakes.”

  “Come on.” As soon as she started up, a voice interrupted.

  “Who do we have here?” Sadie said, warming up to Smoke with her hand extended.

  He rose from his chair, took her hand, and said, “I’m Smoke.”

  “No, you’re smoking.”

  “Sadie!”

  “What? He is.”

  Sidney pushed Smoke toward the elevator. “We’re going.”

  “Where you going? I want to come too,” Sadie said, “My lunchtime just started.”

  “We aren’t coming back.”

  “Now that’s my girl,” Sadie said with a smile. “Glad to know you’re listening to your sister Sadie.”

  Leading Smoke away, Sidney whirled back and whispered harshly at her friend, “You’re filthy.”

  Sadie walked away laughing.

  It left Sidney smiling, but she caught herself as she turned around and entered the elevator with Smoke. They had made it down one floor when the door opened. A man with frosty eyes entered. Morning glory! It was her supervisor, Cyrus Tweel.

  CHAPTER 7

  “What do we have here?” Cyrus sneered as the elevator doors closed. “And what’s the convict doing here?”

  Smoke wedged himself between Sidney and Cyrus.

  Cyrus leaned right; Smoke leaned right. He went left; Smoke went left. It almost made Sidney giggle. “I have new orders,” she said, fanning the file out in front of Cyrus’s face.

  “My ass you do. You’re still on a case.”

  I love pissing him off. “Take it up with Ted.”

  “Black Slate file, huh. Will you get out of my way, you goon!”

  Smoke poked him in the chest, knocking Cyrus back a little. “I haven’t forgotten about that injection you gave me.”

  “You lay another finger on me—”

  Smoke crowded him against the buttons. “I’ll break you.”

  Cyrus pushed back. “Back off, troglodyte.”

  “That’s enough, Smoke,” Sidney said. “Cyrus!”

  “I’m guessing you two are going on another zombie hunt. Hah.” Cyrus tightened his tie. “What a joke.”

  “What’s the matter, Cyrus? You can’t handle being in the dark on this one?”

  “I know more than you know about, Sid.” The elevator opened, and he stepped out. “And just so you know, I took a pass on it. It’s a joke, and so are you and your ex-con—” The doors closed.

  Smoke was shaking his head.

  “What?” she said.

  “I can’t believe you dated that guy.”

  “Why do you care?” she said, grinding her teeth.

  “It’s such a mismatch, is all.”

  “I’d think you’d have figured out by now that it didn’t work out.”

  “I’ve figured it out, but I’m pretty sure he hasn’t. He eyes you like chattel.”

  “Chattel?”

  “You know—”

  “I know what chattel is.” The elevator doors split apart, and out she went, with Smoke close on her heels. “A little space, if you don’t mind.”

  “Sure,” he said, eyeing the lobby of the FBI building. It wasn’t the J. Edgar but one of the larger post-modern satellite offices a few miles outside DC.

  “Just to be sure,” she said, “you didn’t drive, did you?”

  “No. Are you still in the Interceptor?” He scooted ahead and opened the exit door for her.

  That was nice. “Yep,” she said, stepping outside into the biting cold. “Tell you what, I’ll let you scrape the frost off the windows.”

  “It would be my pleasure.”

  I do not understand this man. Smoke’s actions had been very contrary to everything she’d read about him in his file—and in those strange letters, too. His military record made him out to be an insubordinate hot head. A loose cannon. For the most part, he’d been nothing but amiable and reliable. To her at least. He’s playing me. He must be. “It’s pretty cold,” she said, “you still in the mood for a milkshake?”

  “I thought I said milkshakes?”

  Geez, he’s corny. She popped the trunk open and tossed him a scraper. “Work up that appetite, big boy.” Did I just call him big boy? Why did I say that? Inside the car, she fired up the engine and turned on the heat. Her phone buzzed. It was her mom, Sally. To answer, or not to answer. With a sigh she picked up. “Hi, Mom.”

  “We’re eating at four tomorrow.” Her mother’s voice was as sweet as it was lovely, but it had
a pressing tone about it.

  “I know, you told me.”

  “What’s the matter, Sidney? You don’t sound so well. You’re still coming.”

  “I just got a new assignment, and I have to tidy things up.”

  “Don’t you dare show up late, Sidney. I need you here.” Sally started to whisper. “Allison is such lousy help, but Megan shows promise.”

  “I’ll get there as soon as I can.”

  “You have to be here to help me cook. It’s tradition.”

  In truth, Sally did all of the cooking while Sidney stood around listening to her talking. She was pretty sure most everything was ready already.

  “I’ll do my best.” She covered the phone and moaned. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to be home with her family. She did, but Allison made for such a distraction. I’ve got to be there for Mom and Dad. They’d be there for me.

  “We had some excitement around here the other day,” Sally said. “A very nice man stopped by and said he was in the area looking at properties.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Of course we told him that we weren’t interested in selling, but he was very, oh, how would you call it—suave. He seemed European. Very persistent.”

  “Mom, I’ve told you about people that run these scams. Business people like that don’t just show up at your front door.” Sheesh. “Did he try to sell you a security system too?”

  “Why no, but he said his company would pay good money, and you know how much your father talks about moving to Florida this time of year.”

  “I wish I was in Florida this time of year,” she mumbled.

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing. You didn’t invite him in, did you?”

  “It would have been rude not to, and besides your father was here.” Sally sighed. “They spent an hour talking about the Redskins. The only Redskins I like are the kind that have potatoes in them. That’s what I told him. The man almost spit up his tea from laughing so hard.”

  “Listen, Mom, quit letting strangers in. These are dangerous times we live in.” Her palms became clammy as she thought about the text she had received with a picture of Megan that read

  Watch your step.

  Smoke opened the car door and slumped into the passenger’s seat, jostling the car. He started blowing into his icy red hands.

  Sidney clicked the heater up a notch.

  “All right, I’ll see you tomorrow, Mom.”

  “Wait, wait a second,” Sallie said, still hanging on the line. “This man is legit. He even left a business card.”

  “Those aren’t exactly hard to come by, Mom.”

  “It says Edwin Lee. And the nice logo reads …”

  Sidney lurched up in her seat as soon as her mom finished the sentence.

  “… Drake Properties.”

  CHAPTER 8

  “I heard that,” Smoke said with a concerned tone.

  “Heard what?”

  “Your Mom talks pretty loud. So, let’s get up there and find out what’s going on.”

  “Excuse me, but I’ll be dropping you off, or you can get out of the car now.”

  “Sidney, who are you talking to?” Sally said on the other end of the line.

  “Nothing, Mother. I’ll see you soon.” She hung up her phone, backed the car out of her spot, and sped away.

  “I think I should come with you,” Smoke insisted. “Anything that involves Drake is tied to our cases.”

  Sidney wasn’t going to admit it, but she didn’t really hate the idea.

  “I’m dropping you off.”

  Smoke tossed his duffle bag into the back seat. “I’d rather you didn’t. I can help.”

  “Maybe you should take some time to visit with family.”

  “I can’t. Just like you, I have my orders.” He buckled his seatbelt. “Just tell me what Sally said.”

  Sidney scowled at him. “How’d you know my mother’s name?”

  “You know I have my ways.”

  “It’s kind of rude, don’t you think?”

  “You know everything about me, don’t you? My parents. Place of birth. Every military mission?”

  “I’m authorized to know that.”

  “That doesn’t exactly seem fair now, does it?”

  Sort of yes. Sort of no. “You’ll get over it.” She switched lanes and merged onto the interstate, then glanced over at him. “What happened to your face?”

  “Oh, this.” He brushed his fingers over the ragged scar. “It seems Drake has many accomplices in prison. They came after me when I asked too many questions.”

  Sidney’s chest tightened. “What kind of questions?”

  “There were a few dudes with those black-sun tattoos.” He shrugged. “They weren’t very forthcoming. It’s okay now.”

  “What did Ted mean about you going into solitary confinement?”

  “Well, after the fight—”

  “Fight? What fight?”

  “You know, the four of them cornering the one of me fight.” He rubbed his scabbed knuckles. “It landed me two weeks in solitary and four of them in the hospital, but”—he smiled—“they still have solidary coming.”

  It made her uneasy. Were they coming after her, too? Why?

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “I’m fine. It wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle, considering the last scrap I was in.”

  “You’re talking about AV.”

  “Yep.”

  Damn. I hate being reminded of him. She squeezed the wheel until her knuckles turned white. Damn evil people. Don’t swear about it. They aren’t worth it. Morning Glory! I hate evil people! That doesn’t exactly work, either. “You’ll be fine on your own, I assume?”

  He shrugged. “I think Fat Sam and Guppy have a Christmas tree.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “I just haven’t been out for Christmas in a while. And I know a few places that make a decent home-cooked-like meal. There’s this one place called Humphreys. It’s all pine walls, stone fireplaces, and baskets of buttered hot rolls.”

  “It sounds wonderful.”

  “It would be if I was with my family.” He tapped on the dash. “But it’s better alone there than in the hole in prison. You know, I never thought about it, but it’s always possible this could be my last Christmas. After all, you never know what this new mark, uh, what’s her name, Black Bird? No telling what might be in store for us, considering what we ran into the last time.”

  What he said made her mad. Not because of him but because her heart ached a little. It made her think of the first time she had missed Christmas with her family. It had been her first military mission, and she had thought she would never make it home ever again. “Fine,” Sidney said in almost a growl, “you can come with me.”

  “I appreciate it,” he said, nodding. “So, I take it Sally’s a good cook?”

  “Yes, very good.” Sidney floated the car down the next exit and re-entered the interstate, heading north. Her mom would have a hundred questions for Smoke. And even more for her. “My mom’s pretty nosy, so keep it professional.”

  “I will,” he said. “So, can you tell me a little more about what she said on the phone about Drake?”

  “Edwin Lee. That was the man’s name.”

  Smoke produced a phone from his pocket and started to text.

  “What are you doing?” Sidney said.

  “Checking in with Fat Sam and Guppy. They worry about me.”

  “That’s a load of crap,” she said. “You don’t share confidential information.”

  “That’s not confidential. It wasn’t in the file, was it?”

  “No, but I have another file, my trust file, and you just broke it. I’ll check into this with my own sources. ”

  “Aw … I’m sorry. But you can’t trust your sources. That’s how they track what we do.”

  “Tough. No more sharing our information.” She held her hand out. “Now give me the phone.”
>
  “What?” he pulled it away. “No, it was hard to get this burned.”

  “Hand it over.”

  “No.”

  “You just lost my trust,” she said. “Do you want to earn it back?”

  “Maybe.”

  She made his window go down. The icy air battered the cabin.

  “What are you doing?” Smoke said. He tried to roll up the window, but she had it locked.

  “Chuck it.”

  “Why?”

  “I told you why. Now chuck it.”

  “You’re being a bit extreme, aren’t you?”

  “I have trust issues.” She glowered at him.

  Smoke sighed and tossed it out the window.

  Good boy! “Excellent,” she said, rolling up his window. “If I want you to have a phone, I’ll get you one. Do you understand?”

  “No, no I don’t understand, but I’ll live with it, your worshipfulness.” He glanced at the semi-truck passing by. Its wheels were kicking up slush and salt from the road, coating the windshield. “Say, that truck … can you see the logo on it?”

  Sidney turned up the wipers. “No. Why?” The semi-truck, passing on the left, swerved into her lane. She pumped the brakes and rode onto the berm.

  The truck kept coming, sideswiping the Interceptor. Wham! Metal groaned and popped.

  Sidney slammed on the brakes. The car’s front end caught up underneath the trailer, and the semi-truck wheels ran over the hood, crushing it. The car did a three-sixty, spun across the road, and careened into a ditch. The air bags deployed with loud pops, busting her in the nose. Stunned and bleeding, she heard Smoke saying, “Are you okay? Are you okay?”

  CHAPTER 9

  The engine caught fire, and the interior started to fill with grey smoke. Sidney’s fingers fumbled over her seatbelt as the heat rose. It wouldn’t unbuckle.

  “Hang on,” Smoke said.

  She started coughing. Smoke sawed at her belt with a knife. “Get the folder. The folder’s in my bag!” she said. The belt came loose, and Smoke dragged her out through the passenger door.

  Whoosh!

  The entire car went up in flames.

 

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