A Forced Disappearance: A Lawson Vampire Mission (The Lawson Vampire Series)

by Jon F. Merz

  “I do,” said Arthur. “You just leave everything up to me and I’ll get it sorted.”

  “I assume you’ll be taking some time off then.”

  “Thinking about a drive up the coast of Maine, actually,” said Arthur. “I’ve heard things up there are quiet lovely this time of year.”

  “Indeed they are,” I said. “You take care of yourself, all right?”

  “I’ll do that, mate. And you keep a good watch over her until I get up there to oversee things. Yeah?”

  “Absolutely.”

  My iPhone went dead in my hand and I looked over at Belladonna. “Well, that went a lot better than I thought it would.”

  She smiled. “He sounds as wonderful as he ever did.”

  “Like no time has passed?”

  She stared out of the window and sighed. “Time is a fickle creature. Just when you think you have plenty of it, you get none. And when you think you have none, you get more than you ever wanted. More time to think about all the what-ifs, all the should-haves, all the regrets you have because you never acted because you were too scared, too frightened.”

  “Well, Arthur’s on his way, so maybe you two still have time to correct some of the wrongs.”

  She looked at me and smiled. “I hope you’re right.”

  13

  It took Arthur just over eighteen hours to make his way up north. He pulled into the driveway at Belladonna’s house as if he’d been there a million times. Belladonna had spent the majority of the morning making herself up and kept pestering me about her outfit.

  “You look great,” I kept saying.

  “I know you think this is ridiculous and I feel like I’m a teenager for trying to make myself look good. It’s just I haven’t seen him in so long.”

  “Since when?”

  She frowned. “There was an incident.”

  I smirked. “Is that all you’re going to give me?”

  “For right now. Anyway, he’s here and I’m a mess.”

  “You’re not a mess. You want a moment when he comes in? I can go make myself scarce.”

  “No,” said Belladonna. “I’ll go outside and welcome him.”

  “All right. I’ll be here with the cats.” I still found it hard to reconcile the fact that Belladonna had more cats than you could shake a stick at, considering she was lycan. But who knew?

  Arthur killed the engine of his car and I heard the door open. Belladonna took a deep breath. “Here we go.” She pushed through the screen door and I heard her footfalls on the steps.

  Then a lot of muffled conversation. I thought it might not be going well, but then I thought I heard a chuckle from Arthur and I assumed that the retired Fixer was once again making himself irresistible to the fairer sex. Arthur had a way about him that I’d seen women half my age go into a tizzy over. I didn’t know much about Arthur’s early exploits, but from what I’d been able to piece together, he was something amazing.

  One of the cats jumped up into my lap and started purring ferociously. I stroked her head and she plopped over to offer up her tummy. I obliged and in seconds, the cat was sound asleep.

  After about twenty minutes, the door opened and Belladonna came in with Arthur close behind. Belladonna had clearly cried at one point and Arthur’s eyes looked a little misty, too. But they were all smiles now, so I hoped that whatever the incident was, that they’d managed to put it behind them.

  “Tea?”

  Arthur smiled. “That would be lovely.”

  Belladonna flashed a huge smile and wandered off to the kitchen. Arthur came over and sat down across from me in a recliner.

  “How are you, mate?”

  I nodded at the cat asleep in my lap. “Not a word about this. I don’t need the grief.”

  Arthur suppressed a grin. “The mind reels at the possibilities, however.”

  “I’ll shoot you myself if I ever hear if I ever hear of it again.” I pointed at the ruck he’d brought in with him. “How’d you make out?”

  Arthur sighed. “Better than I thought, honestly. Lucky for us that the Council is installing a new security system in the vault sub-levels and things are crazy right now. As in, everything is packed up in crates so no one is looking at them on a daily basis. You get me?”

  “Yeah, you borrowed the Cloak and hopefully we can get it back before anyone is the wiser.”

  “Exactly.” He glanced around. “What the hell are you missed up in here, Lawson? This isn’t like you. Niles is wondering where the hell you are.”

  “He’ll be all right. I’ve gone dark a few times before. And this shouldn’t take much longer than a few days.”

  “Best lay it out for me.”

  Belladonna came back in with a cup of tea and handed it to Arthur. He smiled at her when she did so. “Thank you.”

  Belladonna sat down next to me and the cat on my lap woke up instantly, and then moved over to hers. “Traitor,” I said and then looked at Arthur as he sipped his tea. “Belladonna came to visit me in Boston the other day.”

  “Did she?”

  “In the guise of Monk, her former apprentice who was killed by Shiva.”

  Arthur nodded. “I’m familiar with the case, mate.”

  “Right, so anyway, Belladonna has a new apprentice and she’s been taken hostage.”

  Arthur frowned. “And why the Cloak?”

  “Ransom demand is a lycan artifact called the Corantu. In order for us to get our hands on it, we need to break it out of the lycan armory in Bar Harbor.”

  “So the Cloak really works?”

  I nodded. “Worked well enough over in China for me. Without it, I would have been killed over there. No doubt about it.”

  “So, once you get this Corantu thing, you barter for the life of Belladonna’s apprentice? Seems risky, mate.”

  “Yeah, well we’re not exactly calling the shots on this one. We can’t make a stand without jeopardizing the life of her apprentice.”

  “Understood. Do the players know you’re involved?”

  I shook my head. “Only Belladonna right now.”

  “Good, let’s let them keep thinking that. You can go with her to the armory and grab the relic while I do some scouting around these parts.”

  Belladonna looked at him. “You know you don’t have to do that. I wouldn’t dream of asking you to put your life on the line.”

  Arthur seemed to forget I was in the room as he focused on her. “And I wouldn’t dream of saying no to the only woman I’ve ever really loved. It would be my honor to help you on this. After all of these years - all the time we wasted - I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Or your apprentice.”

  Belladonna’s eyes misted over again and I felt really awkward. Like I needed to be anywhere other than where I was at that moment. The tension in the room was that thick.

  “Yeah, okay, so that sounds good.”

  Arthur blinked and the spell broke. “Right, well I could get my head down for a bit and rest. That drive was brutal.” He looked at me. “How about you go scout the armory and come back after?”

  I knew when I wasn’t wanted. “Okay then…”

  Belladonna guided me to the door and handed me the keys to her truck and a slip of paper with the address for the armory. “Have fun.”

  I didn’t even look at her; I just smiled and headed out.

  14

  It took me about twenty minutes of driving to weave my way around to Bar Harbor from Belladonna’s house. Main Street wasn’t as crowded during November as it would have been at nearly any other time of year. The leaf peepers were long gone, along with the leaves they would have come north to see. The year round residents of Bar Harbor were a lot more laid back when the tourists started disappearing.

  I took my time driving north up it, though, because I’m not as familiar with the area as I should have been. I spotted a few bars that I made a mental note about in case I thought Arthur and Belladonna might need a little more time.

  I found Mount Desert
Street easily enough and turned left, cruising down it, noting the addresses. I saw the back of a Hanaford supermarket and knew I’d gone too far, so I turned around at the end of the street and snaked my way back down.

  On the second go-around, I tagged the right address and saw it was what looked like a bank of some sort. That made sense. If I was protecting lycan relics, I’d want something that had a vault in it. Also, it was far enough away from the water that any chance of having the floor blown out from underneath was minimized.

  I slid the truck into a space a few doors down, adjusted my rear view mirrors and set up shop. With my iPhone at my ear and the windows up, I had the perfect cover. Just being a responsible driver who pulled over to talk on his cellphone.

  I didn’t see any video surveillance of the area, but of course, that didn’t mean there wasn’t any. These days, you could hide a video camera inside anything, wire it up and observe from anywhere over the Internet. Technology sure had made spying on people a whole lot easier than it used to be. Who was I to complain if it happened to help me out?

  Of course, the reverse was also true. An enemy could use all of this spiffy tech to spy on yours truly. And that wasn’t cool at all. It made my life harder in that regard. But whatever. Adapt, improvise, and overcome was what I’d been taught decades ago and it was what worked when everyone else was ready to throw in the towel.

  My iPhone rang and I saw Niles’ number come up on the screen. I pushed the button to decline and waited for it to go to voicemail. It had been over twenty-four hours since I’d checked in and the last Niles knew, I’d been headed to the airport to take down Hank. My poor Control had no clue if I’d been killed or not.

  The voicemail dinged and I thought about answering it, but changed my mind. Instead I texted Niles and told him I was okay. I used the proper day word code so he knew the text was legit.

  I got back an angry poop emoji.

  Oh well, it wasn’t the first time Niles had been annoyed with me. As great an operative as I was, I was also a lot to handle. I gave Niles a lot of credit for putting up with it all. He’d taken a lot of heat over the years from the Council and beyond. The dude deserved a raise as far as I was concerned.

  The flow of people on the street waxed and waned without any real discernible pattern to it. I didn’t think the lycan armory had any sort of roving security patrols. That would have stood out if they did. It’s nearly impossible to blend a security team in on a fixed location without constantly changing their appearances, coats, and all that jazz. I mean, it’s possible, but is it probable? Nope. Too much work. And people are lazy creatures, whether they’re humans, vampires, lycans, or anyone else.

  The front of the building was gray with large picture windows that looked like they were reinforced. You could see inside, but it looked like the lobby of a bank. The small sign over the door read “First National Bar Harbor Credit Union,” but I’d never heard of that before, so I assumed it was just a front. It made sense to have it be a credit union. They could make its membership exclusive to lycans only without really raising any red flags.

  I wondered what their interest rate was.

  I saw a person come out of the bank and turn up the street into the stiff wind that was blowing now. They looked remarkably boring, slightly stooped over, and older. I had to keep reminding myself that I was dealing with lycans and nothing - absolutely nothing - was what it seemed given the fact they could morph into anyone they really wanted to. The little old man who had just come out of the bank might well be an elite assassin built like a brick shithouse.

  And I wouldn’t know it until it was too late.

  I unwrapped a small Twix bar and chomped on it thoughtfully with my free hand while I continued to have the most interesting conversation with myself into the iPhone. If you think that spy work is this big time glamorous thing, it’s really not. Ninety percent of the time, it’s mind-numbingly boring stuff. And surveillance is the worst. Especially if you happen to be alone and in need of a piss break. You’ve got to stay on the target and you can’t get away. So you do what spies have been doing for years: you piss into a bottle and stow it on the floor. Just make sure you screw the cap on tight because you definitely don’t want that leaking anywhere.

  Think that’s gross? Well, it kinda is. Which is why when you think about all the spies out there risking their lives, be sure to be extra grateful knowing that this is what they routinely go through.

  Unless they wear diapers.

  I stayed in place for another hour, noting the comings and goings of people from the bank. But I didn’t see much of interest. And after an hour, I needed a drink and some time to myself to mull things over, so I slid out of the space and headed for the bar I’d spotted earlier.

  15

  The bar sat a few streets over and I wandered in late afternoon, expecting to find the place mostly deserted. I wasn’t disappointed by the scarcity of people inside. All I really wanted was an hour of peace to myself over a decent drink. I sat at the corner of the bar so I could observe everyone coming in.

  The bartender looked about eighty but was built with huge forearms and a barrel chest that marked him as a Navy man. Or at the very least, someone who had worked around boats his whole life. The decor of the place was dive bar at the harbor with ship paraphernalia, a wheel, and an anchor strewn about, along with old recruiting posters for the Navy.

  “What’re ya having?”

  I noticed a lonely bottle of Bombay Sapphire on the bar, and nodded toward it. “That ever been opened in this century?”

  “Might have been once or twice,” he said. “You want it straight up?”

  “Only if you don’t have tonic water and limes.”

  “Limes?” He looked if I’d asked him for directions to Area 51. But after a moment, he reached into a refrigerator I couldn’t see under the bar and drew out a tray of sliced limes. “Lucky for you, I need to keep this on hand for the tourists that come through here and don’t drink beer.” He eyed me. “Like you.”

  I smirked. “I look like a tourist to you?”

  He shrugged. “You look like the type of guy not many people choose to fuck with. And if they do, it’s probably the biggest mistake of their lives.”

  “You really think we look alike?”

  He hesitated and then broke out in a hearty guffaw that seemed to emanate from deep within his belly until it bubbled up and out of his throat. “All right, ya got me. That was good.” He set the bottle down, poured a good measure of it into a glass, topped it with tonic water, and slid the tray of limes in front of me. “You help yourself, there.”

  I fished three of them up and squeezed the lime juice into the drink, stirred it with the rind of one of the limes and lifted the glass toward the bartender. “Cheers.”

  He nodded. “Well, shit, if we’re drinking then…” He grabbed the bottle of Knob Creek off the back of the bar and poured himself a measure, lifted the glass in my direction and drank it down. “Thanks for making an old man smile.”

  I watched as he busied himself with another customer at the end of the bar. I sipped the drink and thought about Talya and what she might be doing. As usual, our contact was sporadic and anything but routine. Spies don’t just have the luxury to up and call whenever. You grab the time when you can, but it’s limited.

  And rare.

  I finished my first drink and the bartender came back around, poured me a fresh one and then slid it toward me. “Figured you might need another.”

  “You figured right.”

  He eyed me as he leaned against the back of the bar. “So, what branch were you in?”

  I get that a lot. It’s the same military bearing you acquire any time you go through intense training. I’ve worked hard to lose it so that it becomes less obvious and for the most part, I can pass inspection but someone who isn’t all that observant, or when I choose to act differently. The problem comes when you run into people who have a similar background - ones who know the look you get - and
then ask about it.

  Since I figured he was a Navy man, I thought the best option was to choose another branch. “Air Force.”

  He nodded. “You seem too smart to be a Marine, and you’ve got too much class to be an Army guy. It’s not the best branch, of course. Navy man, m’self. But we’ve got the best between us, so you got that going for you.”

  “Which is good?”

  “Damn right.”

  “How long were you in?”

  He rolled up a sleeve over a massive forearm and showed me the tattoo that read De Nang. “UDT way on back. You know about us?”

  “Forerunners of the SEALs,” I said. “You guys were the original frogmen. Tough group of bastards if ever there was one.”

  “You might just drink for free tonight if you keep this up,” he said. “What about you?”

  I rifled through my brain. “CCT. Know it?”

  “Nope.”

  I nodded. “Good, we like it that way. Combat Controller. We deploy with the Tier 1 guys to call in air support, air strikes, that sort of thing. Usually behind the lines.”

  “Another operator,” the bartender nodded. “Figured you for a hard guy. Nice to see I was right.”

  The door to the bar opened and a pair of guys walked in. From the way they moved and the manner in which their eyes roved over the joint, I guessed they were either cops or something worse. The thought that I was operating without a sanction in lycan territory crossed my mind as well.

  And then there was the fact that I hadn’t checked in with the Fixer assigned to this area. If he got wind of my being here, he could have called back to the Council and asked them for a sit-rep. And if there wasn’t one, he’d get awfully curious as to why a Boston Fixer was suddenly in his neck of the woods.

  “Gotta tend to these gentlemen,” said the bartender as he moved off to greet them at the other end of the bar.

  I sipped my drink as he took their order and started making their drinks. I let my line of sight seem to be drawn to the other end of the bar to where a TV set showed the latest news, but I was using my peripheral vision to watch what they did next.