Specters: A Monster Squad Novel - 8

by Heath Stallcup

  Jumping into a new body so quickly could have that effect. Without properly preparing, the impact could be deadly for the new host. Gaius spotted this man and simply dropped into him, the nearest vessel to his queen. He knew she was near, but he couldn’t tell exactly where. Somehow, she was hidden from him.

  Only a handful of his demons had survived the slaughter at the warehouse. Once the spell was lifted and they were able to depart the broken bodies of their hosts, they saw the full impact of the damage. Even the great Fallen one had been slain…something they didn’t think possible.

  He immediately sent word to those who were transporting her devices and ordered their shipments halted. Their decimated forces had to be gathered. As long as they still dwelt upon this plane, they were bound to her. They must save the demon queen from the human hunters and reclaim her prizes.

  He sat upon a bench outside a large concrete building and watched as vehicles drove by. Others in uniform came and left. Mothers with children walked past him, their minds on their useless lives and their endless lists of things that must be done. Gaius stood and stared off toward the horizon. He tried to reach out and detect where Lilith was, but she wasn’t reaching back. He could sense her, but his mind couldn’t touch hers.

  He could feel the others drawing closer and he hoped that once their strength was added to his own, he could locate her. Once he pinpointed her, he would storm the very gates of Hell to save her.

  “I can feel you, my queen. And we are coming to save you.”

  *****

  Darren halted his squad and clicked off his torch. He squatted lower and peered around a sharp bend in the tunnel. Light could be seen flickering and based on the orange glow, he was certain it wasn’t sunlight. He motioned to the others and pointed around the corner.

  Easing slowly forward he strained to listen and could only hear the popping and crackling of an open fire. He waved his hand over his mouth indicating no talking and slowly eased his head around the corner. Seeing nothing but another corner, he slipped out from where he was and leveled his weapon. He flattened himself against the opposite wall and eased along the edge until he could peek around the opposite corner.

  An open circular room with a large support post in the middle sate empty. A fire pit built into the wall was the source of the light and flame. In the orange gloom he noted a pack next to a small stack of wood and he motioned to Sullivan. Little John checked it and nodded. “It’s Tracy’s.”

  Darren checked the other tunnel entering the room and saw the same series of corners. “We’re on the right track. Keep moving.”

  Donovan shifted around and covered their six while the trio exited the other side. He kept one hand against Sullivan’s back while covering with the P90. He nearly tripped when he felt the big man suddenly stop. “What’s the hold up?”

  “Hit a ‘T’ in the road.”

  Darren scanned both sides and shook his head. “I’ve no idea.”

  Sullivan pointed to the right. “It goes uphill. Further from the water.”

  Darren knew they were far enough away from the river that continuing uphill now was moot. But he had no other reason to not go right. “Right it is.”

  The trio continued moving until they hit another series of corners and another round room. They found piles of backpacks, hiking boots, folded tents and other assorted camping gear and two very dirty piles of heavy coats that looked curiously like makeshift beds.

  Sullivan poked at one of the piles of coats with the barrel of his SCAR. “I have a really creepy feeling about this.”

  Darren slapped the big man on the shoulder, “Let’s move. Now!”

  Another series of corners and another ‘T’. Another right and a much longer trail up the mountain. As the trio approached the next series of corners, they could hear a muffled voice that sounded very much like someone struggling. There were also grunts and hoots that reminded Spalding of great apes he had heard at the zoo.

  He held his fist up to stop the other two and used hand motions to direct their course of action. They would enter, Sullivan up the middle, Donovan clears left, Spalding clears right. Just as he gave the signal to enter, Gus gave a muffled yell and all three rushed the second corner, weapons leveled.

  *****

  Bigby tossed the last of his trash and stepped away from the fast food area outside the exchange. He stood beside the double glass doors and stared southward toward where the hangar sat. He knew that he would have to find a way to approach that wouldn’t be suspect. He’d need a non-descript vehicle that nobody would second guess, even at high alert. He watched as minivans and sports cars rolled past the large building. Pickup trucks and Humvees. Nothing he saw gave him the warm fuzzy feeling that it would go unnoticed.

  Even when a base police vehicle stopped and turned onto the main street, he knew that stealing one of those would only help him get caught faster.

  From where he stood he couldn’t imagine a vehicle that could give him the proper cover and go unnoticed. He was about to give up his search when he noticed a young airman sitting alone on a bench outside. The young black man suddenly stood and stared off to the south, his face looking as if he were in a trance.

  When he opened his eyes and continued staring south, Bigby couldn’t put his finger on exactly why, but the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. There was something ‘off’ about the young man. Bigby stood at the door and watched as the young man simply stood near the sidewalk and stared.

  “What’s your story, mate?” Bigby leaned against the wall near the door and watched the young man. Could he be a member of base security who was out searching for him? Something told him that wasn’t the case.

  He watched as the young man lifted his hand and pointed his palm toward the south. After a few moments, he dropped it dejectedly. If he was trying to use the Force, he was failing miserably.

  Bigby pushed off the wall and stepped outside. “This may be the dumbest thing I’ve ever done.”

  He walked slowly toward the young man and slipped in behind him. “You look lost, mate. Need a hand?”

  The young man barely glanced at him before shaking his head. “No.”

  Bigby gave him a smirk. “Waiting for someone then?”

  The young man shook his head again. “No.”

  Bigby nodded. “Trying to find someone?” The young man ignored him. “Someone who doesn’t want to be found maybe?”

  “This is not your concern, Celt.”

  “Celt?” Bigby chuckled. “Something tells me that you’re a long way from home, boy-o.”

  *****

  Jameson sipped his coffee and waited for Ingram. He knew that the younger man was many things, but he wasn’t stupid. He just needed to be reminded how to think strategically. He hoped that this lunch meeting would snap him out of whatever funk of stupidity he was in and get him back to thinking like a spy.

  He saw the younger man step into the restaurant and wave at him. He slipped into the booth across from him and seemed far too chipper.

  “Great news. I talked to the techs, and we can have the Titans flown to Geneva at any time.” Ingram quickly unraveled the napkin and placed his flatware out on the table.

  “I told you, now is not the proper time.” Jameson motioned for the waiter and nodded. “I took the liberty of ordering for us both.”

  Ingram paused and gave him a puzzled look. “It would have been nice to at least look at the menu.”

  “Trust me. I’ve been eating here for years. There’s only three things worth eating, and I ordered them for us.”

  Ingram slumped in his seat and cast a weary eye at the older man. “I suppose you ordered drinks, too?”

  “Oh, no. I always have coffee with lunch. Feel free to order whatever you like.”

  Ingram sat quietly for a while then reached into his breast pocket. He withdrew a thumb drive and slid it across the table. “You were right about the Swiss accounts.”

  “Of course I was.” Jameson picked up the thum
b drive and held it up. “And what is this?”

  “Backups of everything. The techs made it for you for your own files.” Ingram avoided his gaze while he waited for their food to be delivered. “So, clue me in. What’re the next steps in this grand plan of yours.”

  “You saw the deposit. That’s only half of what the Council promised us. If we want the other half, we need to take care of the problem they hired us to handle.”

  Ingram nodded. “True, but I thought you said they weren’t ready?”

  “You convinced me otherwise.” He sipped at his coffee and studied the younger man. “None of our intelligence indicates that they have the assets we saw them utilize at the saw mill. So, I believe you were correct in your assumptions. They were hired guns brought in to handle a specific problem.”

  “So we’re back to the original plan?”

  “Unless you think our team can handle the threat at reduced strength.”

  Ingram shook his head. “I’m not following you.”

  “Perhaps we send a strike force to deal with the squads and set up a live feed to the Council. Once they make the final payment, and I mean the very moment it hits the accounts, we have a small team standing by to kick in their doors and eradicate them.” The smile that spread across his face sent a shiver down Robert’s back.

  “I suppose that might be possible, but why so soon? I mean, seriously, does half a day make a difference? Do you really think the Council is going anywhere?”

  “Think about it, Robert. You’ve hired someone to remove the only threat to you, but now that person you hired is an even larger threat. You either cut and run or hire somebody else to remove that threat. Do we really want to risk our boys to a bunch of fangers?”

  “That’s an awful lot of ‘what ifs’ there.” Ingram rubbed at his neck as he thought about the life and death game of chess that Jameson proposed.

  The waiter stepped up to the table and placed the soup and salad before each man. Robert ordered a club soda absently as he continued to play out the ramifications of the ploy. Once it was safe to talk again, he lowered his voice, “Do you think the Titans can handle either job at reduced strength?”

  Jameson shrugged. “That’s why I was asking you.”

  Ingram shook his head absently. “I don’t know. I just…I don’t know.” He sipped at the soup, not really tasting it. “Is it beyond the scope of the project to have the team perform their initial duty and then wait to provide proof to the Council until we’re in place to strike? Wait until the money is transferred and then have them go in, guns blazing?”

  Jameson nodded. “Oh, it’s possible. But we run the risk of the Council finding out that the deed is done before we report it. They cut and run, and we miss our opportunity.”

  Ingram continued eating, his mind racing. “We put a tail on them. Satellite surveillance. The whole works.”

  Jameson grunted. “They’ve been around for how many centuries and we never knew they existed until they approached us with this job. Do you really think we can track them?”

  Ingram smiled. “Part of their remaining hidden was us not knowing they existed. Not only do we know, but we know where they hang their hats. We know where they do their banking. We know their associates. We know their itineraries, their modes of travel, their preferred places to stay, and best of all, their weaknesses.”

  Jameson smiled as he stabbed a cherry tomato with his fork. “I’m beginning to like the way you think, Robert.” He popped the tomato into his mouth and added, “There may be hope for you yet.”

  20

  Mitchell watched the heat signatures of his two operators as they slipped from object to object, zigzagging through the woods. He motioned to the communications officer. “Please tell me we’ve broken through to the others.”

  The man shook his head. “I’m sorry, Colonel. Maybe if we had an exact location we could use a compressed pulse microwave beam, but their portables are just too weak to be effective.”

  “Put that on my ‘to do’ list.” Mitchell punched up the drone feed and displayed it on the main screen. “They’re approaching the last known location of the unknown.”

  Mitchell scooted to the edge of the seat and watched as the two operators both turned and leveled their weapons on the area where the heat signature was last seen. He flipped the switch on his console and Delta Three’s helmet cam fed the main screen. A clump of ferns filled the view as the two slowly approached the spot.

  Delta Four held a fist in the air and dropped low. Using his knife, he probed the ground until he found a seam close to the fern. A makeshift wooden lid with detritus covering it was lifted and Delta Three pointed his barrel into the hole before them. Both men covered the area while Jacobs keyed his coms. “Your call, Colonel.”

  Mitchell groaned and wiped a calloused hand across his face. He hated the idea of losing contact with all of his men, but he knew the odds were high that Spalding would need assistance.

  He pinched his eyes shut and ground his teeth as he keyed his own coms. “Do it. But for the love of Pete, be careful.”

  “Copy that, sir. Going radio silent.” Delta Four switched off his coms and Mitchell watched the two men drop into the hole in the mountain, the helmet cam feed turning to static as they disappeared.

  “Somebody find a way to keep in contact with them! Yesterday!” He pushed out of his chair and began pacing the small operations center, his eyes burning holes through the feeds relayed back through the drone and the overhead satellite.

  *****

  Jack tried not to watch as Kalen moved closer to Brooke. The warrior in him insisted that he pay tribute to one of his own. The soon-to-be father in him grimaced as the Elf lifted the knife to Brooke’s chest and the overhead light glinted off the polished blade.

  Paul stumbled and fell to his knees, his hands shooting outward to steady himself. He suddenly appeared paler than normal and his eyes widened with both shock and fear. He trembled as he sucked in breath and he turned to stare at Jack.

  “Don’t tell me that bitch jumped ship again?” Jack strode the short distance and grabbed the vampire by the shirt front, lifting him to his feet and shoving him against the wall.

  Foster shook his head animatedly. “No, Mr. Thompson,” Foster’s voice shook as he spoke. He lifted his eyes and met Jack’s contemptuous gaze. “Something I fear that is nearly as bad.”

  “What could be that bad?” Jack growled as he tightened his grip and shoved him again.

  “My brother…” Paul trailed off, his eyes focusing in the distance. “He’s…done the unthinkable.”

  “What does he speak of, Chief Jack?” Azrael stepped forward, his jaw set.

  “I don’t know.” Jack stared at Paul who seemed to shiver in shock. “What the hell is going on?”

  “Chief Jack?” Kalen stood ready, his knife still hovering over Brooke’s still form. “Does Lilith still reside within her or…can she be spared?” He dared not to hope that she had departed, but the words of the Wyldwood echoed in his mind. Even if she could be driven out, only an empty shell could remain. Brooke would be little more than a ghoul.

  Allister shook his mighty head. “She is locked within that body. I have seen to it.” He moved forward and nodded toward the raven-haired vampire. “Do it now!”

  Jack held up his hand. “Wait! I want to know what the hell he’s talking about first.”

  The Nephilim placed a gentle hand on Jack’s shoulder. “That is not a wise course. You have made peace with what must be done. Do it now lest time get away from you and she gets the upper hand again.”

  Jack gave Phil a sideways stare. “If she starts to stir, zap her again.” He turned back to Paul and tried to shake him back to the here and now. “What the hell is going on? What did Rufus do?”

  Foster turned slowly and shook his head. “He’s the ultimate power now. He…cannot be stopped.” He went limp in Jack’s grip and fell to the floor. “I see it all so clearly now. It was all just a game…a ploy. A powe
r play…a way to rule us all.”

  “Rufus?” Jack gave the vampire a puzzled stare. “What did he do, dammit!”

  Paul lifted his rummy eyes and shuddered. “He has destroyed the Council. He now rules all vampires.”

  *****

  Laura stepped back into her office and dropped the last of her things onto the desk. She stood with her hands on her hips and gazed about the empty room. “I guess I should have waited until Matt gave me the go ahead before I unloaded all my crap.”

  She ran a finger along one of the shelves still filled with binders full of operating procedures and looked at the fine coating of dust. “I think the cleaning lady stopped coming by in my absence.” She smiled to herself and plopped onto the overstuffed couch that had been her bed on far too many occasions. She sighed as the leather covered cushions enveloped her body, and she suddenly felt like she was truly home.

  She tried not to think of what she had done. How she had tried so many times to quit because of her father. How she had stolen the serum and rushed home when she found out how far his health had deteriorated. How she broke every rule in the book to give her father, her hero, what she had hoped would be the cure to his disease. How that cure ended up being the death of Jim Youngblood and the birth of…a monster.

  Laura shuddered at what she had done and squeezed her eyes tighter. She couldn’t allow herself to lay blame. She had already accepted responsibility. She had bounced back and forth with whether she should come clean with Matt once she returned and she still hadn’t come up with a viable answer. She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. She tried to lose herself in the thousands of tiny holes each ceiling panel held, but her mind kept creeping back to her father turning and walking away from her. She kept seeing him dissolve into the woods, engulfed in the shadows.

  She sat up and propped her face in her hands. She refused to allow herself to cry any more. He was gone to her before she left to go home, he was gone to her now. The only difference was, now he lived on. As what, she couldn’t be certain, but she knew that he lived. She had to take solace in that fact. Derek no longer blamed her. The rest of the family believed that their father simply walked into the woods to die.