“Ever since that hunter stumbled on that injured Sasquatch,” Lipeli said, “our field expeditions have found five Sasquatch colonies in California and Oregon. We also have leads on other colonies in Missouri, Ohio and Florida. Now that we know more about their habitat and behavior, it’s easier to find them. Because of that, poachers have shadowed some of our teams. A few have been threatened at gunpoint. We also had one woman raped and another researcher shot, not fatally, thank God. But these expeditions are unarmed and in a lot of cases, the nearest cop is fifty to a hundred miles away. I need someone to safeguard them, someone who’s experienced operating in all kinds of terrain and environments. Someone who can keep their head when everything goes to hell. Someone who can neutralize a threat when it pops up.”
“Someone like me.”
Lipeli nodded. “Captain, you were one of the best Rangers I had in my battalion. That, and your knowledge of animals, makes you perfect for this job.”
“I take it I’ll have something better to protect people than a set of keys and a whistle.”
“Standard issue for field security specialists are a Glock pistol and a Steyr AUG rifle.”
The choice for rifle surprised Rastun. The Austrian-made Steyr AUG was well over 30 years old. Still it was compact, lightweight and accurate. An all-around good rifle, despite its age.
“They seriously only gave you keys and a whistle at the zoo?” asked Lipeli.
Rastun snorted in disgust. “Yeah, we were really well-equipped if any serious shit ever went down. But I made up for it.”
“How?”
“You know that Black Ops tactical knife I had. The one my former platoon sergeant in the Eighty-Second gave me before I went to Ranger School?”
“Yeah.”
“I kept it hidden in an ankle holder. I wanted to have something I could use if anything serious ever happened.”
Lipeli smiled wide. “You always were prepared for anything. That’s why you’ll make a perfect field security specialist. So, are you interested?”
“What about Western Sahara? Is that going to cause any problems?”
“As far as anyone is concerned, you were honorably discharged from the Army. I don’t think we need to bring up some of the unpleasant details surrounding it.”
Rastun mulled it over. He had a chance to work far beyond the four walls of an office, to help with the discovery of creatures previously thought to be myths and to protect people. It may not be the Rangers, but it was probably the closest he’d ever get to it.
“Count me in, Colonel.”
“Terrific.” The two shook hands. “So when can you get started?”
“Yesterday.”
“I thought you’d say that.”
Their food arrived, a chicken teriyaki sandwich for Rastun and a cheeseburger for Lipeli.
“So,” Rastun picked up his sandwich. “Where do I need to be to crack some poacher skulls?”
“Actually, this time it’s the cryptid giving us problems, not the poachers, and you won’t have far to travel.”
Lipeli leaned forward. “Better stock up on sunscreen, Captain. You’re going to the Jersey Shore.”
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Ocean's Hammer Page 16
