Obsessions: A Monster Squad Novel 7

by Heath Stallcup

  The large vampire averted his eyes. “They get in too big of a hurry and they lose control. The packs of baby vamps end up loose on the humans.” He turned and met Foster’s gaze. “The hunters get them.”

  *****

  Jericho stepped into Dominic’s office and rapped on the door. “We have a couple of possibilities on the board. You might want to get your team prepped.”

  Dom set his paperwork aside and gave Captain Jones a crooked grin. “We just came in off the last one. Shouldn’t First Squad take this one?”

  Jones paused and lifted his clipboard. He flipped through the pages and scratched at his chin. “I forgot that they changed all the teams around. Team Two is actually Three and One was Two and…” He shrugged. “You want me to tell Spanky to take this one? I’m sure he wouldn’t care either way.”

  Dominic stared at his after action report on Mac. Perhaps if he took the next op, the man would snap out of whatever funk he was in and develop a desire. A desire to be a part of the squad, to be a team player. “Let me talk to Spanky. I’ll get back to you in two shakes.”

  Jericho gave him a thumbs-up and slipped out of the tiny office. Dom walked down the hall and knocked on Spalding’s door. With no answer, he stuck his head inside to find the office empty. “If I were Spanky, where would I be?”

  “Right behind you, you big oaf.” Spanky poked him in the ribs as he walked past and flipped on the light to his office.

  Dom jerked as his ribs were violated by Spalding’s offending finger. “Dude, that ain’t cool sneaking up on a trained killer like that.”

  Spalding laughed as he fell into his chair. “I’ll keep that in mind the next time there’s a spider in here.” He pushed his chair back to make more room for the large Italian. “Don’t be a stranger, come on in and…well…I’d say make yourself comfortable, but I swear this used to be a janitor’s closet before they shoved a desk in here.”

  “Yeah, no shit.” Dom leaned against the wall and smirked. “Hey look, Jericho just gave me a heads-up on a possible op on the boards. He was going to assign it to my squad, but I reminded him we just came in.”

  “Yeah, okay. We can take it.” Spalding leaned forward in his chair and cleared a spot on his desk. He reached for the file in Dom’s hand, but Dom held it back.

  “No, this ain’t it. I was just…” He sighed heavily then glanced out in the hallway to ensure it was clear. “I’m having problems with one of my guys.”

  “Just one? I figured Charmichael would be giving you fits, too.”

  Dom shook his head. “No, he’s fitting in pretty well. It’s all Chad. It seems the guy doesn’t play well with others.”

  Spanky nodded. “All the things that people thought about Sullivan.”

  “Yeah, so how’s he working out?”

  “Actually, quite well. He was just misunderstood.” Spalding gave him a lopsided grin. “He’s a hell of an operator. A little emotional when it comes to his sister, but nothing I can’t handle.”

  Dom smiled mischievously. “Feel like taking on another project?”

  Spalding shook his head. “Hell no. Little John would kill Mac. They can’t stand each other.”

  “I sorta got that vibe too. I wonder why that is?”

  Spalding shrugged. “Little John claims that Mac can’t stand for anybody to outscore him on anything. He needs to be numero uno on everything. If he can’t be, he undermines them every chance he gets.”

  Dom scratched the side of his head while he considered Sullivan’s observations. “You know, that makes sense.”

  “So you think you have a handle on how to make him fit in?”

  Dom shook his head. “Not a fucking clue.” He slapped the folder against his thigh as he turned for the door. “But if you don’t care, I’m going to take this next op. Maybe if he has to sit out for a rotation he’ll realize I’m not playing.”

  Spalding nodded. “You got it brother. Let me know if you need anything.”

  “Just cover the fort while we’re out protecting Democracy from monsters.” He shot Spalding a wink.

  “We’re a Constitutional Republic.”

  Dom turned and gave him a blank stare. “Huh?”

  “You said…” Spalding waved him off. “Good luck out there.”

  *****

  Bigby drove back to the warehouse and hopped down from the truck. The greasy bag he carried dangled from his grip and nearly dropped as he listened to the sound of construction coming from within the warehouse. He rushed to the doors and found Martinez directing his men as they began building the mock-up.

  “What’s going on here?” Bigby marched to the work crews that carried the lumber from the stacks. “Who told you to start construction on this?”

  The man stopped and nodded toward Martinez with his chin. Bigby turned and saw the man flipping through pages within a file folder. “I’ll get to the bottom of this.” He turned and marched toward Martinez. “What the hell are you doing?”

  Martinez turned and flashed the man a toothy grin. “We got the intel.” He handed the folder to Bigby who dropped the greasy bag on the floor and began flipping through the folder.

  “This…this can’t be…are you sure?”

  “We just got it. Mr. Simmons forwarded it to me just moments ago. I printed it out and my men have begun construction.”

  “There’s even a blueprint in here.”

  “I know. Crazy huh?” Martinez pulled the file from Bigby’s hand. “I have no idea where Mr. Simmons’ man got it, but he delivered.”

  Bigby rubbed at his chin as he looked at the men hurriedly building the mock-up. “Yeah, mate, a little too convenient if you ask me.”

  *****

  Kalen paused at Brooke’s door, his hand raised but refusing to make contact with the painted metal surface. He could feel his heart rate increase and his breath caught in his throat. He lowered his head and stared at the floor. Slowly he turned and walked back to his room. What would he say to her?

  As he sat down on his bed, his mind raced back to the night she invaded his dreams. It had felt so real. The knowing looks she had given him afterward convinced him that she had shared the dream as well, but he couldn’t be certain.

  Kalen sighed and slumped down into his mattress. What good would it do him to ask? Even if she admitted to having shared the dream with him, what would that mean? It didn’t necessarily mean they were somehow connected. And who’s to say that she would tell him the truth?

  Kalen spun slowly on the bed and stretched out, interlacing his fingers and propping them behind his head. He closed his eyes and instantly, she filled his thoughts. Her eyes, her hair, the shape of her jaw, every minute detail of her face was burned into his memory. He sighed audibly and rolled to his side, facing the block wall. He instinctively reached out and placed his hand on the cold, painted wall and could almost imagine her on the other side.

  “I wish I could know what you were thinking.”

  A soft knock at his door snapped him from his reverie. He rolled over and swung his feet off the edge of the bed. He padded to the door and opened it, his mouth dropping open as his eyes took in Brooke standing in the doorway.

  “Brooke. I didn’t…I mean…I was just…” Kalen closed his mouth and simply stared at her.

  Brooke looked up at him and he couldn’t read the expression on her face. “You gonna invite me in or what?”

  Kalen startled and stepped aside. “Of course. Please.”

  She stepped inside and glanced around. “I see your place is just as fancy as mine.”

  He nodded as he shut the door. “It suffices.”

  He turned and gave her his full attention. “To what do I owe the honor?”

  She averted her eyes and reached for the chair. “I was just…uh…I was thinking that maybe we should, you know…talk.”

  Kalen slipped past her and sat on the edge of the bed. “Very well.” He brushed out imaginary wrinkles in the sleep tunic he wore. “What would you like to discuss?”r />
  She finally raised her eyes to meet his gaze. “Why do you keep invading my dreams?”

  *****

  “Sir? I think I may have something.”

  Director Jameson looked up from the stack of papers on his desk and waved the analyst inside. “Talk to me, Stevens. What did you find?”

  Stevens shoved a report onto his desk and stood smiling proudly as the man picked it up and browsed through the summary. “What is this?”

  “Communications, sir.” He glanced over his shoulder toward the door. “I thought your secretary was going to beat me over the head and take that from me, but I—”

  “What kind of communications?” The director continued to sift through the papers behind the summary.

  “Oh, uh…between the target party and their operatives in the field.” Stevens leaned across the desk and tried to see what page the director was on. “I got to thinking, they need to have a way to know when a threat is real. They can’t just wait for a civilian or a police agency to call them and say, ‘hey, can we get a werewolf or vampire exterminator out here’ now can they? No. So they must have field operatives. And if they have field operatives, then they have to communicate somehow.”

  “So…you utilized a satellite to track radio data?”

  Stevens smiled. “Negative, sir. They’re using old-fashioned telephone lines. I utilized the Patriot Act to pull their records of both incoming and outgoing calls. Then I started recording calls.” He absolutely beamed as he spoke. “I uploaded the sound files to your G drive, sir. The hyperlinks are spelled out there so you can go straight to them and listen to—”

  “English, son, in English.” The director slapped the file shut and stared at the man.

  “Oh…uh…I saved the sound files on a drive that only you and I can access. The directory to get to it is the last page of the report…the addendum there. I believe its attachment F, sir.”

  The director opened the file again and flipped to the last page. Slowly a smile crossed his face. “Okay, Stevens, I’m going to go listen to these files. If they are what you say they are then…good job.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Director Jameson looked up at the man. “You still cleared for field work, Stevens?”

  The analyst paled as he tried to digest what the director had just asked him. “Sir?”

  “Are you still cleared for field work?”

  “Uh…I suppose, sir. But I’m an analyst. I work in the office here. I mean, I’m a data kind of guy, I don’t actually go into the field and—”

  “You’re about to.” Director Jameson reached across his desk and picked up his phone. “I’ve got to call Ingram and have him put together a surveillance team. I want you on it.”

  Stevens paled even more. “But, sir, I’m not really qualified to…I’m not a field operative!”

  Director Jameson stared the man down. “If you’re qualified to be one, then by God, you are one. Unless you’d rather be crunching satellite data in the fucking Yukon?”

  The analyst stiffened and swallowed hard. “No, sir. I’d rather not.”

  “Excellent. Get your gear and prepare to assist Ingram’s men in the field.” Jameson began punching numbers into his phone then paused. He turned to Stevens once more. “That is all. You’re dismissed.”

  CIA Analyst Robert Stevens walked back to his desk in a daze. He sat down in his chair and stared at his computer screen. His hands went through the motions of shutting down his station as his mind raced. Going out in the field was one thing. Going out in the field and facing genetically mutated, monster hunting, Special Forces soldiers was another.

  He stared at the blank walls of his cubicle. For the briefest moment, he actually wished that he had a family or a sweetheart that he could tell good-bye.

  14

  “So what exactly did you send Mr. Simmons?” Mick asked as he leaned back in the metal chair.

  Mark laid the camera back down and slid it across the table to him. “Those are pictures of another site. Then we snapped a few of different areas in here and in other buildings across the base. We had a draftsman draw up phony blueprints and artificially age them so that they’d look old.” Mark crossed his arms and stared the were-cat down. “The big question now is, are you ready to become a part of the solution, or will you remain part of the problem?”

  Mick held his chained hands up and rattled them. “You really think I want to spend the rest of my days like this? What’s your proposal?”

  “If I had my way, we’d take you out back and sink a bullet in your head. But seeing as how the colonel is feeling much more generous, he’s offering you asylum. Of sorts.”

  Mick lowered his hands and cocked his head sideways. “Asylum? How does that work?”

  “Considering that this Simmons character has a pretty long reach, we’re prepared to offer you a lifelong vacation on a really nice island. Surrounded by other shifters, too.”

  “In exchange for?”

  “In exchange for your help, as soon as Simmons is properly set up, we send you out on a chopper. It’s just a few hours away from here.”

  “An island? Just a few hours from here?” Mick raised his brow at the man, obviously disbelieving.

  “It’s in the Gulf. The fellow running it at the moment used to work here.” Mark scooted his chair back and glanced at his watch. “It’s a short-term offer.”

  “Fine. I suppose it beats the bullet option. But what do you mean by lifelong? I’ll be a prisoner there?”

  Mark ignored him as he flipped his folder shut. “Lifelong as in, as long as you want to stay alive. I truly doubt that a money man like Simmons is going to come out of the shadows to lead his little attack on us. As long as he’s out there, you’re going to need to keep a low profile.”

  “So I’m either a prisoner there or a prisoner here.” He flung his chains toward Mark. “That’s some choice you’re giving me, mate.”

  “There’s always option one.” Mark shot him a lopsided smile.

  Mick sighed and pushed the camera back to him. “Just tell me what I have to do.”

  “We’ll get you another cell phone. You call him and tell him that after the attack we decided to move to this location because of the damage done at this location. Make sure that he believes you.”

  “And then?”

  “And then make sure he knows that you are running out of minutes on your prepaid phone and have to go. Then we make you disappear.”

  Mick swallowed hard and averted his eyes. “What about Jennifer?”

  “What about her? She’s my CO’s mate. We’ll protect her with our lives.” Mark crossed his arms and stared the man down. “From anyone.”

  “Yeah, I gathered as much.” Mick leaned forward and held his hands out. “I’m not a threat Major. You may as well remove these.”

  Mark chuckled and shook his head. “Not until we’ve got what we want.” He stood and pushed the chair back in to the table. “Then you’ll get what you want.”

  “Yeah, I doubt that.”

  *****

  “I don’t understand. What do you mean that I invade your dreams?” Kalen was nearly floored by her question.

  “Don’t be coy with me, Sugar Cookie. I know that you did it, and you know that you did it. I just don’t know how.” She crossed her arms and squeezed herself tightly. “It’s not like I’m going to tell anybody. I just want to know.”

  Kalen shook his head, his hands coming up in surrender. “I swear to you, Brooke, I haven’t—”

  “Raven.” Her eyes pleaded with him. “Please, call me Raven.”

  Kalen’s curiosity got the better of him. He could read her emotions, and they were all over the place. He sat down beside her and gingerly placed a reassuring hand on her arm. “Why? I don’t understand why you would change who you are.”

  She shook her head, her hair covering her face. “Brooke is dead. She’s long since gone. Only Raven can do the things that need doing now.”

  “You do r
ealize you’re the same person, don’t you?” Kalen squeezed her arm gently. “You’re still you under all that black leather and bladed weapons.”

  She pulled her arm back and leaned away from him. “No, Kalen, that’s where you’re wrong.” She stood and crossed the narrow room to the door. She stood with her back to the exit and still refused to meet his gaze. “Brooke was innocent. She was weak. She was…a child. Raven is strong, and she can do what needs to be done to survive. Raven can kill indiscriminately and she can…” Her voice broke, and he saw her bottom lip quivering.

  Kalen got up and stood before her. His hands gently held her arms as they clutched even tighter to her sides. “Br-…I mean, Raven. You can be anything. You can become anything. You can even go back if you want.” He slowly stroked the sides of her arms as he spoke. “But changing your name doesn’t change what happened to you. It doesn’t change what you had to do in order to survive. Yes, it made you stronger and yes, you had to harden yourself in order to do it, but it doesn’t change the fact that you are Brooke Sullivan.”

  He reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. He noted the tears running down her cheeks and a part of him wanted to wrap his arms around her and tell her that it would all be okay. He wanted to kiss her and tell her that she didn’t have to hurt inside any longer. He wanted to tuck her into his pocket and keep her warm and protected and hide her away from anything that might harm her. But the other part of him knew that she was as dangerous a warrior as any he had come across. He knew that she could just as easily best him in battle if he weren’t careful. She might have a fragile psyche, but she was far from broken.

  He tucked away another strand of hair and gave her a gentle smile. “I’ll call you whatever you wish. And we needn’t speak of it any more if you don’t want to.” He pulled her gently into an embrace and he softly wrapped his arms around her.

  For the briefest of moments, Kalen felt at peace; as though everything that could be right with the world suddenly was. Then he felt her shift under him and he knew that she didn’t share the feeling. He broke the embrace and stepped back slightly, his eyes searching hers. Tears flowed freely, and she tried to wipe them away with the back of her hand. He reached across and grabbed the tissues from his desk.