Obsessions
A Monster Squad Novel
Heath Stallcup
Edited by TW Brown
Cover Art by Jeffrey Kosh
Obsessions; A Monster Squad Novel
©2015 Heath Stallcup
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living, dead, or otherwise, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or unauthorized use of the material or artwork contained herein is prohibited without the express written permission of the author.
DEDICATION
For my children. Aim for the moon and you may hit the barn. Aim for the stars and you may hit the moon. Aim for forever and reach the stars.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Yes, I always thank my beautiful wife, Jessie. She’s the one who has given up so much so that I can live the dream.
I always have to give a shout out to the Tufos. Sometimes those who offer so much ask the least.
Linda Coffman who proofread and polished these before Todd can work his magic.
Todd Brown who has taught me so much over the past few years and who polishes these stones into gems.
Jeffrey Kosh for covering these stories in his fantastic artwork.
Last, but certainly not least, my kids. You still believe.
Thank you.
-Heath
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Obsessions
A Monster Squad Novel
by
Heath Stallcup
1
Spalding and Apollo strode out into the aftermath and reviewed the carnage. “Damn, I’m glad I’m not part of the clean-up crew.” Apollo kicked a body over, watching as it slowly transformed back to something like a human-wolf hybrid. “Ugly sons of bitches, ain’t they?”
“They aren’t so pretty in either form. They’re even less pretty in between.” Spalding keyed OPCOM and requested the clean-up crews converge on his location. He looked up at his haggard squad. “Donnie, you and Sullivan double-check the containers. Make sure everything inside is no longer breathing. Jacobs, Lamb, take the main gate and escort the clean-up crews in.”
Spalding made a wide circular motion with his hand to attract the attention of Second Squad. Keying his throat mic, he announced, “We’re mopping up down here. Keep your eyes and ears open and do not secure your stations until the clean-up crews are finished.”
“Roger that.” Bravo Four was the first to respond. The other two chimed in as well.
Spalding turned and began walking toward the main warehouse. “Brother, how about you point me to Sheridan’s personal stuff and then you need to disappear before folks start to arrive.”
Apollo stood tall and nodded. He inhaled deeply, the scent of spent gunpowder still lingering in the air. He glanced about the site then back to Spalding. “I’m really going to miss it, ya know.”
“I know. Once an operator, always an operator.” Spalding turned and walked slowly with him toward the main building. “But they meant it, buddy. No popping up on radar. No mercenary stuff. Just…disappear.”
“I ain’t the merc type, man. You know that.” Apollo paused and stared off into the darkness. “The hardest part is not saying goodbye.”
“It’s probably for the best, brother. There’s a lot of people at the base that won’t be happy with our decision…we haven’t told them yet.”
“I understand. I don’t like it, but I understand. I just wish there was some way to turn back the clock, ya know?”
“I know. Believe me, buddy. I know.” The two stood in silence for a moment longer. Apollo turned and motioned toward the main doors of the hangar. “Come on, Sheridan’s crap is in the office in here. Probably got contact info for that Simmons cat.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear.” Spalding fell into step with him and the two began working their way across the expanse.
A muffled shot echoed in the darkness, the flash hidden by the suppressor attached to the barrel. Apollo jerked suddenly and froze in mid-step, his eyes dropping to his chest.
Spalding stopped and turned to him. “What’s wrong, buddy?” He didn’t notice the fresh blood splatter on Apollo’s tactical vest. He was already covered in blood, flesh, and spittle from the earlier wolf attack.
Apollo turned and stared at him blankly, his mouth opening to say something, but the words never came. A second shot hit him in the temple, dropping him where he stood.
Spalding leapt to his side, catching the big man before he hit the pavement. “Medic!” His scream was instinctive from years in the field, as no medic had ever gone out with the squads in missions past.
Spalding cradled Apollo as he quivered and shook, his nerves firing, causing his body to jerk. Keying his throat mic, Spalding screamed into the coms, “Stand down! Stand down! Hold fire!” He lay Apollo down gently on the ground, “Stay with me, buddy! Stay with me!” He glanced around with desperate eyes, “I need a medic over here! Man down!”
Jacobs and Lamb rushed to his side, pulling their emergency packs as they slid in beside Spalding. “What happened?”
“Gunshot!” Spalding stepped back as Lamb and Jacobs did their best to stench the flow of blood.
Lamb gently turned Apollo’s head only to realize that the other side of his skull was missing. He turned shocked eyes to Spalding and shook his head. “There’s no way, Spank.”
Jacobs pressed his fingers to the big man’s neck and felt for a pulse. “I got nothing.”
Spalding slowly came to his feet and stared off toward the points where his Bravo members supposedly sat overwatch. Hatred flashed in his eyes, and he ground his teeth as he tried to calculate which man had murdered his friend.
*****
The sniper rifle slipped away from his eye, and he let it drop to the ground below. The patch of grass below him muffled the impact as he turned and slid from the rafters of the dilapidated maintenance building.
Bigby’s feet touched the ground, and he slipped into the shadows of the building, doing his best to stay out of the line of sight of the three lookouts planted along the perimeter. He spotted them on their approach and watched as they set up their overwatch stations before their brethren began murdering the wolves in the cargo containers. It had taken him this long to sneak past them and establish his own position out of their view.
He hadn’t allowed himself the luxury of mourning Sheridan. His shock that Apollo and the other operator got the drop on him was bad enough, but Sheridan being absentminded enough to let himself be killed by the likes of those two? The old boy had slipped a lot further than Bigby would have thought.
He left the sniper rifle on the ground for the squad to find later. He wanted them to locate it and discover the weapon. He wanted them think that it was one of Simmons’ men that dropped the great Apollo Creed Williams. When the time was right, he’d let them know it was him. As he was crushing them under his heel, he’d gladly
tell them himself.
Bigby watched from his position until he felt he was clear then broke away. He knew where Sheridan had hidden a good portion of the munitions that Simmons’ had bought. He knew the weapons would come in handy when the rest of Simmons’ men arrived later. He had considered simply using his knowledge to take the war to the squads himself but that would be suicide. If he truly wanted revenge, it was better to stand back and direct others to run into the rain of bullets. With Sheridan gone, Bigby would be the contact man for Simmons. He’d be the one to give the orders now. He’d be the one to pick up the reins and take over for his best friend, mentor and commanding officer.
Glancing back over his shoulder when he knew he was well beyond hearing range, Bigby paused and watched as the trucks rolled into the abandoned industrial zone. True to their standard operating procedures, they had called in the chaps to clean up after them. Men in rubber suits and fancy space-age equipment would go over every inch of the facility. They would pick it clean like white suited vultures, leaving nothing behind that could possibly indicate what had happened.
Bigby spotted the black trucks parked outside the gate of the facility; nearly identical trucks to the one that decimated their team at the hangar. He growled low in his throat and wished he had a couple of RPGs to spare. Bigby forced himself to breathe and calm down. His time for revenge would come. He turned back to the crowd of people collecting in the middle of the facility below.
“I’ll be back, old boy. And when I come, I’m bringing the Devil himself with me.”
*****
Mark slipped his headphones off and laid them down quietly on the console at his station. His eyes stared at the screen and the body of Apollo splayed on the ground. He opened his mouth to speak but no words came. He could hear the buzz of activity in the OPCOM but nothing registered with him. He stood slowly and approached the command chair.
Jericho was still barking commands as Mark gently squeezed the man’s shoulder. “How did that happen?”
Jericho shook his head, his eyes still scanning the heat signatures displayed on the smaller screen. “All of First Squad was accounted for. None of Bravo Team fired that shot.” He pointed to the video replaying for the fourth…or was it the fifth time? “All of them are static when that shot was fired. No increase in heat on any of their weapons.”
“Hold on.” Mark went back to his station and pulled up a three dimensional representation of the facility. Placing Apollo where he was standing when he was shot, the way he was facing and the entry of the bullet into the side of his head, he was able to extrapolate, within a seven degree arc, the approximate location of the shooter. He sent the data to the big screen. “Cap, our shooter was somewhere along this vector.”
Jericho studied the 3-D layout a moment then typed in the commands to send the information to Spalding. “Team Leader, OPCOM, your shooter is somewhere along this vector.”
“Copy, OPCOM.” Spalding’s mic went dead and the men in the command center watched as three heat signatures took off at full speed.
Jericho pulled the drone out of high orbit and put into a low arc, searching for the shooter as well. “If he’s anywhere nearby, we’ll find him.”
Mark stared at the drone’s video feed and prayed something tangible could be found. “Let’s hope for the shooter’s sake that we find him before Spalding does.”
*****
“Monsieur Thorn, you have a call.” The enforcer held the phone to his chest waiting to see if Rufus would accept the call. Rufus slipped from his bed and nodded, waving the man closer and reaching for the phone.
“Viktor, I appreciate you calling so soon.”
“You said it was important.” The fatigue in his voice was unmistakable.
“Oui, mon ami. I must ask a very large favor. One that I fear you will not like.”
“I am listening.” Rufus could hear rustling in the background as if Viktor were dressing while speaking to him.
“I need to speak to your aunt. The witch.”
“I do not personally know the gypsy.” Viktor spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully, “However, I could speak with my mother. It may be possible to get you an audience with her. If she still lives.”
“That is all I could ask, mon ami. I cannot express how much I appreciate—”
“I must ask,” Viktor interrupted, “if what Nadia tells me is true?”
Rufus inhaled deeply and sighed. “If she has told you that I acted behind Jack’s back and broke his trust, then oui, it is true.”
“And you created a weapon that could destroy all non-human beings?”
Rufus couldn’t be sure from the deadpan tone of Viktor’s voice what the wolf was thinking, but he knew better than to lie to him. “That is not a simple answer. The weapon had the potential to kill any non-human it was used on, but it was made to combat only one.”
“And yet you used it.”
“In an emergency situation, oui.” Thorn feared where this was about to go.
“Against attacking wolves.”
Rufus sighed again and hung his head low, his free hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Oui. Against an attacking force of wolves.”
Silence echoed across the phone line for an extended period of time. Rufus could barely hear Viktor breathing on the other end. When he finally spoke, Rufus was surprised he did not yell. “Did the weapon work?”
“Non. It was destroyed.” He lifted his eyes and stared at the ceiling of the hotel room. “It nearly killed me in the process.”
Viktor exhaled hard into the phone, and Rufus feared what he may say next. “I suppose we should all be thankful that it did not.”
“Oui, I am very thankful. Monsieur Thompson, on the other hand, I do not think shares such sentiment.”
“Then he is a fool.” Viktor’s sharp tone surprised Rufus. “I will contact you once I have arranged the meeting with the witch.”
“Thank you, mon ami.”
*****
Laura stared at the clock, the second hand seemingly slowing as the clock continued to tick away. She knew that once Matt was out of his cell, she would have little time to press her position or he’d find another reason for her to stick around. She walked through her office for the third time, ensuring that everything she needed was packed. She lifted the single duffle bag and carried it to the door. She turned back and stared at the room that had essentially been ‘home’ for the past six years and slowly pulled the door shut.
“Need a hand with that?”
Laura spun and saw Dominic approaching. She relaxed her grip on the bag as he reached for it. “I think I can handle it.”
“Aw, come on, Ms. Youngblood. If you’re really going to leave, let me at least be a gentleman and carry the lady’s bag once.” He pulled it from her grip and hefted it as though it were weightless.
She nodded and waved him on in front of her. “To the parking lot, my knight.”
“I like the sound of that.” Dom turned and headed for the elevators. After she stepped in, he punched the button for topside. “So this is really it, huh?”
“Once Matt is back up and in charge, yeah. Major Tufo is out of harm’s way. The colonel’s girlfriend has been delivered. There’s no reason for me to stay.”
“No reason?” Dom gave her a sideways glance. “What about Doc? I bet he’s gonna miss you something bad.”
She stifled her smile and avoided his watchful gaze. “I’ll come back and visit from time to time.”
“And Doc’s okay with that?” Dom shook his head. “Sorry, ma’am, but if I was Doc, I’d have dragged you off to some dark, secluded spot, tied you up, and not let you leave.” She gave him a cautious stare and Dom suddenly stiffened. “Sorry. It didn’t sound nearly as creepy in my head.”
“Evan and I have an understanding.”
“Maybe you do, ma’am, but he’s a guy. I can tell you from experience that we’re not the best at putting how we feel into words.” He held the door for her as it opened. “
I’d bet money he’s hurting inside a lot more than he’ll admit.”
She stepped outside of the elevator and opened the door leading to the main hangar. She held it open as Dom stepped out and toward the overhead doors leading to the parking lot. The first rays of dawn were just beginning to break over the eastern horizon, and Laura felt an anxious pang as the two stepped out to the gravel parking area. She unlocked her Jeep, and Dom placed the bag in the back for her then shut the rear door.
He turned to her and lowered his voice. “Ma’am, I’m sorry. I know it’s not my place to say anything. I know you got your reasons for leaving.” He glanced back toward the hangar and then to her car. “I know you’ve wanted to leave for a long time. But if you have any kind of second thoughts, now would be the time to let them know.”
Laura gave him a sad smile and pulled the large man into a soft hug. “I’m going to miss you, Dom. I really will.” She stepped back and smiled at him. “But I need this.”
“Well, okay then.” He tipped his cap to her. “Be safe out there, Miss Laura. You know as well as anybody what’s really out there.”
“I will.” She turned and marched back inside. She felt it best to wait for Mitchell inside his office.
*****
Matt’s first memory after shifting back was of a burning sensation across his shoulders. He looked down at the raw, red marks where the silver bars had scalded his wolf. His arm lay between the bars and rested on Jenny’s bare hip. She lay on the floor, as close to the silver bars as possible without touching them, sleeping.
Matt sat up and stretched, the cold concrete floor having stiffened his body; aches and pains the result of a night spent on a surface not designed for sleeping on. He glanced around and saw Jack, still in the form of his Halfling, sitting at the back of his cell, his eyes glued to the clock.
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