by C W Hawes
“Now what, Boss?” he asked.
Mostyn and Baker got out. Willie Lee snapped pictures while Mostyn searched the sides of the drive. Eight feet in he found what he was looking for: the two receptors and the faint red line of the laser beam, positioned about two inches above the drive.
He walked back to the vehicle. Jones had gotten out and was chatting with Baker.
Mostyn informed them about what he’d found.
Baker took a picture of a squirrel. “We’re on the west side of the property and there’s another drive on the southeast side. Right?”
“Correct, Willie Lee,” Mostyn said. “And the cave entrance is up on the northwest corner of the estate, not far from the creek. If the boys are telling us the truth.”
“Only way to find out is to take a look.”
“Right, Jones,” Mostyn said, “so let’s get going.”
They got back into the SUV and bounced their way over a couple more miles of road.
“Stop,” Mostyn said. “This must be the boulder the kids spoke of. Supposedly the opening is just straight back from here, in the side of the hill.”
Jones stopped the vehicle and shut off the engine. Everyone got out.
“Baker, I want you to stay with the car,” Mostyn said. “Jones, let’s take a look. Keep your eye peeled for laser alarm triggers and any other warning devices they may have set up.”
“Gotcha, Boss.”
The two agents plunged into the forest and within a dozen steps had lost sight of their vehicle.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen trees this thick. Not even where we were last year,” Jones said.
“One of the densest forests I’ve ever seen,” Mostyn replied.
They proceeded cautiously looking for any alarm triggers.
Jones tapped Mostyn and pointed. Mostyn followed Jones’s finger and saw a small camera mounted on a tree.
“Good eye, Jones. Good eye.”
“So now what, Boss?”
“We now know they have surveillance cameras, in addition to laser-triggered alarms. I think we go back, wait until dark, and make another attempt.”
“They might have stuff to see intruders in the dark.”
“They might, Jones, they might. In fact, they probably do. But I think we just chance it and see what happens.”
“Fine by me. Do we have any of Bardon’s special toys?”
“A few.”
Jones rubbed his hands together. “Cakewalk.”
***
Shortly after midnight the SUV stopped by the boulder. Mostyn, Jones, Ramsey, Dotty Kemper, and Helene Dubreuil got out of the vehicle. They were dressed in black and had headsets to connect them to Ramsey. The white sliver of the moon was high in the sky.
Ramsey set three small drones on top of the SUV and in a moment they were flying into the woods. Mostyn and Jones looked over Ramsey’s shoulder and watched the screen.
As though talking to himself, Ramsey murmured, “Phase one, take out the cameras.”
Mostyn watched a tiny lightning bolt leap from the drone to the camera. This was repeated three more times.
“Okay,” Ramsey said, “Cameras are down. Now for the lasers.”
The drones flew another twenty or so feet into the woods and zapped the lasers.
“This section of their electronic surveillance field is down,” Ramsey said.
“Good,” Mostyn acknowledged. To the others, he said, “Let’s go. Ramsey will keep us informed if the drones spot any problems. We’re going to take a look-see, and then leave.”
The four walked into the forest. The two women in the middle of the line, with Jones on one end, next to Helene, and Mostyn on the other next to Dotty.
The forest canopy was dense and blocked out the meager light from the moon and stars. The drones, flying some fifty feet ahead of the OUP operatives, were winking in the manner of fireflies. There was no underbrush to speak of, due to lack of sunlight. But there were plenty of sticks, fallen tree branches, rocks, and holes to catch the feet. Not even the night goggles were of much help.
Helene sent her thoughts to Mostyn. Mostyn Pierce, my husband, perhaps I should dematerialize and go on ahead.
Mostyn sent his thoughts back to her. Not yet. We don’t know what Van Dyne might have waiting for us.
Very well, my love, Helene replied.
The group made slow progress and in twenty minutes had only walked about three hundred feet into the forest, everyone, save Helene, tripping or falling at least once.
Jones, slowly placing his foot into a depression, whispered to Helene, “How come you haven’t tripped or fallen?”
She sent her thoughts to him. Due to the dimness of K’n-yan’s light compared to the upper world’s, I have better night vision than you.
Jones grunted back an acknowledgment and focused on carefully placing his feet.
Ramsey’s voice sounded in their ears. “The drones are picking up heat signatures. They’re coming in fast from two o’clock.”
Mostyn pulled out his phone, tapped an app, typed four characters, and a pale green bubble surrounded them. Moments later six three-headed dogs charged out of the trees. Giant beasts that Mostyn guessed must weigh five or six hundred pounds.
The creatures skidded to a stop at the sight of the bubble, and Kemper raised her machine pistol.
“No,” Mostyn commanded. “The bullets won’t go through the aura.”
“What is it?” she asked.
“Tactical Defense Field. Level Eight.”
“Eight?” Jones said.
“Yep,” Mostyn replied. “Bardon insisted.”
One of the Cerberus creatures leaped for the agents and vaporized when it hit the aura.
“What do we do now?” Dotty asked.
“We wait and see what they do. A Level Eight field is not mobile.”
“Not mobile?” Dotty shouted. “What the hell, Mostyn?”
“Bardon’s idea, Dot, not mine.”
“Him and his goddamn toys,” Dotty muttered. “He needs to give us what we need to do our job.”
“We’re safe, Dot. What more do you want?”
“I want to be able to get the hell out of here, Mostyn. Is that too much to ask?”
“Let’s see what happens,” Mostyn replied.
“I’m so done with this goddamn organization,” Dotty muttered.
Jones chuckled. “What are you going to do, Kemper? We can’t quit.”
“No, we can’t,” she replied. “But I sure as hell don’t have to go out on any more of these goddamn assignments. ‘Field work,’ he said. Field work, my ass.”
“Look, Mostyn Pierce.”
Everyone followed Helene’s pointing finger. Standing between two trees was a nightmarish giant.
“What the hell is that thing?” Jones said.
“It must be ten feet tall,” Dotty added.
The creature had the body of a man, with an extra set of arms. The head was on a longneck, and just above the nose slits was one very large compound eye. The thing lifted an arm, the palm of its hand facing the green bubble. In the palm, was an eye. A cat’s eye.
“What’s it carrying?” Dotty asked.
“I think we’re about to find out,” Mostyn said. “Everyone down.”
The thing lifted a large tube affair, aimed it at the Tactical Defense Field, and pulled the trigger. A glowing white ball shot out of the tube and hit the green field. The field flickered, and, for just a moment, at the spot where the white ball struck, the field disappeared.
“What is that thing?” Jones said.
Dotty checked her machine pistol. “A non-mobile defense field. Of all the stupid…”
In their ears, Ramsey’s voice sounded, “I’m coming to the rescue.”
Two drones flew up to the giant’s head, and little lightning bolts shot out of the drones. The little arcs of electricity touched the monster’s skull. The thing roared, clapped two hands to it’s head, and fell to the ground.
M
ore drones appeared. The dogs began snapping at the little machines. A set of jaws caught one of the drones and chomped it. A cluster of the little machines surrounded the beast and zapped it with lightning bolts. The huge creature dropped to the ground. The remaining three-headed dogs ran off, the drones in pursuit.
“Okay, people, time to fall back,” Mostyn said. He tapped some keys on the phone and the green field disappeared. “Let’s go. Use flashlights.”
Four flashlights flicked on, and in their beams stood four very tall wolfish-looking creatures. And they were standing on their hind legs.
12
Dotty Kemper fired first. The soft choo-choo-choo sound of her suppressed machine pistol sounded loud in the night. Two of the monsters expired in that initial shower of lead. Blood, flesh, and bone spraying the forest floor.
The remaining two creatures charged the OUP operatives. One creature took down Jones, the other leapt at Helene and met nothing but air. The creature on Jones vanished and rematerialized inside a tree, its face just visible. Dotty shot and killed the remaining monster.
“Holy shit,” Jones said, as he got up from the ground. “That thing was strong.”
Helene rematerialized.
“Thank you,” Jones said, as he touched Helene’s arm.
“You are welcome, DC,” she replied.
Mostyn watched Jones’s lingering hand and a dark cloud passed over his face. He shook his head. “Okay, people, let’s get out of here before they throw more surprises at us.”
“What I want to know is why Agent Geek didn’t warn us,” Jones said.
They heard in their ears, “Sorry about that. Didn’t see them appear on the screen. And fuck you, Jones.”
Jones just shook his head.
“We should take one of these creatures back with us for study,” Dotty said. “It’s probably the Lessing Vampire people are talking about.”
Mostyn nodded. “Probably should.”
“We can’t carry it,” Jones said. “Not if we’re planning on booking it.”
“I’ll do it,” Helene volunteered. She and one of the creatures dematerialized.
“I have got to learn how to do that,” Dotty said.
“Then maybe—”
“Shut up, Mostyn. I know what you’re going to say.”
“Fine, Dot. Let’s get out of here.”
Mostyn, Kemper, and Jones turned on their flashlights and made good time getting back to the road. A couple of times Mostyn thought he’d heard something, almost like the slithering of a snake. But a sweep of the flashlight behind them revealed nothing.
When they reached the vehicle, Ramsey and Helene were packing away the last of the drones. The body of the Lessing Vampire was in the back of the SUV.
To Ramsey, Mostyn said, “Drop those.” To everyone, he said, “Into the vehicle. Now.”
Ramsey started to protest, and Mostyn yelled, “Now!”
Ramsey dumped the drone case and remaining drones in the back of the SUV, closed the hatch, and got in the back seat.
With the team in the vehicle, Jones made a difficult U-turn, and drove back to the village as fast as the rutted and potholed road allowed.
“What’s on the agenda now, Mostyn?” Dotty asked. “They foiled our plans pretty good back there.”
“We get the creature back to civilization for study. Then we discuss the information we’ve obtained thus far, and find out from Bardon what he wants us to do. Quite frankly, I think we pretty much have one option.”
“Which is?” Dotty prompted.
“We have to destroy the labs where these things are being made.”
“Do we know where they are?” Helene asked.
“Nope. Not all of them. But I bet this place is as good a bet as any to be one of them.”
***
In spite of the early morning hour, the casino still had customers. Mostyn was able to secure the use of a small conference room, and ordered coffee and pastries to refuel his team.
On the way back to the casino and hotel, he had phoned in and requested a helicopter to pick up their package. By the time the SUV had reached Murphy, a chopper was en route to their location. Forty minutes later, Penn and the Lessing Vampire were on their way to a secret Federal facility.
For an hour, the team, minus Penn, discussed their findings, drank coffee, and ate pastries. When there was nothing left to discuss, Mostyn summarized where they were at.
“What it seems we have thus far,” he began, “is a lot of gossip.”
“And misinformation that even Bardon took for fact,” Dotty added.
Mostyn nodded. “Yes, there is that. But we’ve located four people who have fairly credible sightings. Two of them lost animals to the creature: a dog and a goat. There’s also a pig farm that suffered losses several miles from here. Lots of rumors, but no eyewitnesses. And then we have the guy who shot the chupacabra and ate it.”
Baker interrupted. “Don’t forget the kids.”
Mostyn took a sip of coffee, and nodded. “I’m getting there. Thanks, Willie Lee. The killing of the animals, and vague accounts of the sightings, fits with the other information we’ve collected on the chupacabra and the Jersey Devil. There is nothing really new here, other than the physical form of the Lessing Vampire, which differs from both the chupacabra and the Jersey Devil. Albeit all three are vampiric entities, in that they bite their victims and suck their blood.”
“As I said before,” Gerstner began, “Van Dyne Corp matches the creature’s form to that of local legend. I think we can assume the chupacabra to be the base form. They then modified the creature for New Jersey and here.”
“I think that’s a reasonable description of what Van Dyne is doing,” Mostyn said.
“But we still don’t know why.” Jones devoured a pastry.
“No, we don’t,” Mostyn said. “And we might never know. Unless we can get hold of the project files. Going with the rumor mill, the intended use is not good. Now, the most interesting part of all of this is what those kids saw. They were able to get through the woods and enter a cave, which connected with the mansion’s cellar.”
“Van Dyne’s plugged that hole real good,” Jones said, while picking up another pastry.
Mostyn nodded, sipped coffee, and continued. “That they have. What scared the kids were monsters. They described them as creatures out of some video game. They made loud noises and chased them back out through the cave and the woods.”
“And you don’t think they made it up?” Dotty asked.
Mostyn shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. I don’t see any reason for them to do so. And our own encounter with monsters tonight seems to confirm their story.”
“So what do we do now?” Gerstner asked.
Mostyn took a sip of coffee. “I think the decision is up to Bardon. If we are to take direct action against the Vautier mansion, we need an assault team. And Bardon needs to okay sending one.”
“That’s what you’re going to recommend, though, isn’t it?” Jones said.
“Yes. We don’t know what Van Dyne Corp is up to. But none of the creatures we’ve encountered are looking for a role in Beauty and the Beast. I think they should be stopped before they start implementing whatever it is they’re planning.”
“Fine with me,” Jones said.
“Everybody okay with that recommendation?” Mostyn asked.
The team members nodded or gave a thumbs up.
“Okay,” Mostyn said. “Get some sleep. I’ll send in my report to Bardon.”
The meeting broke up, but instead of going directly to his room, Mostyn walked outside.
Such a beautiful place, he thought. Why is it that beauty is often merely a façade and that what is real is unimaginable ugliness and horror?
13
Congresswoman Diane Steinberg, phone to her ear, did not look at all happy. She was what in times past was called a handsome woman. Her large, hawk-like nose prevented her from being considered beautiful and at fifty years o
f age that bothered her. Though not as much now as when she was young. However, in lieu of youth and beauty, she did have power and money. Both of which could entice many a man to her bed. And at her age, she was too old to bother with getting a nose job. She’d gotten to where she was today without one, and she could stay on top of her mountain without one.
However, the man on the other end of the phone was not such a one that could be enticed into anyone’s bed with mere power and money. He was a puppet master. He was the one who made the marionettes dance.
“I understand, Mr van Dyne,” the congresswoman began, “however, until five minutes ago when you mentioned the name, I was not even aware of the existence of the Office of Unidentified Phenomena.” There was a pause, and then she continued, “I will look into the situation, Mr van Dyne, and… Yes, yes, I’ll make sure they redirect their efforts elsewhere.” Another pause, and then Steinberg took a deep breath before speaking. “Of course, I realize you are my top contributor, sir. I assure you I will do whatever is necessary. Yes. Thank you, Mr van Dyne. Goodbye.”
She cradled the receiver. “Goddamn pompous prick. Of all the gall…,” she muttered.
Diane Louise Steinberg stood and looked out her office window at the buildings below. Eleven-term congresswoman from California. Chair of the House Judiciary Committee’s subcommittee on Crime, Terrorism, Homeland Security, and Investigations. She was a person to be reckoned with.
The Congresswoman looked at her nails. Time for a manicure, she thought. I’m overdue. Too damn busy.
She returned to her desk, sat, opened a drawer, and took out the bottle of bourbon and a glass. She poured herself two fingers of whiskey and drank half of it in one gulp. She grimaced at the alcohol burn.
For all her power and control, for all the strings she pulled on her own marionettes, she herself was just another puppet. Her master was Valdis Damien van Dyne, and he wanted her to stop the Office of Unidentified Phenomena from harassing Van Dyne Corporation. But she’d never heard of the office, or its director, Dr Rafe Bardon. Van Dyne knew more about the agency than she did. Maybe there was some truth to the existence of these deep black op organizations that not even the President could access.
