Loose Ends (The Hammer Commission Book 3)

by John Van Stry

  "That will take a few minutes to explain, I'm Mark. This is my daughter, Gail, and my daughter Jess. This is their mate and my son-in-law Michael. The other male with us is my son Clem. I apologize for intruding on your territory; I didn't know there was a clan in the area."

  "I'm Estuardo. Now, why have you come here and stirred up the drug makers?"

  "Because they have stumbled onto something that it is best for all of us that humans do not deal with," Mark said. "I'm here to stop them."

  "We do not get involved with the humans and their things. We do not bring attention to ourselves or get involved in their affairs. We do not want to bring more guns and fighting here, to our home. You should leave."

  "Yeah, about that..." Michael started, but Mark held up his hand, stopping him.

  "I would speak with your clan leaders about this," Mark said. "This is not something any of us can ignore."

  "They will not see it that way," Estuardo replied.

  "I would still talk with them," Mark said.

  "And if I should refuse to allow it?"

  "I am my clan's alpha," Mark said with a hint of a growl, "and I will kick your ass into next week if you do not take me to talk to them."

  Estuardo paused a moment and looked at Mark and the many scars covering his arms.

  "It would be unseemly for us to fight," he said after a moment. "Come with me, I will take you to them."

  "Thank you," Mark said. "Girls, Michael, you stay here. Keep an eye on things."

  Michael started to say something, but Jess nudged him and he shut up. Mark shifted and looked at Estuardo, who then shifted as well and led him off into the forest.

  It took them over an hour to get to Estuardo's village, or at least the village where his clan alpha lived. After they had shifted back to human form and Estuardo had loaned him a simple loincloth to wear, Mark looked around, impressed. He'd seen towns before where lycans were the majority, but he'd never been to a place before where it was only lycans.

  True, the village was a small one, and in many ways a rather simple one. But everyone looked healthy and rather content. Mark suspected it probably drove any anthropologists crazy if they came through here. These people were not living in modern society and apparently hadn't embraced any of it at all. Mark doubted however that they were as 'backwards' as they might appear. Choosing to live a simple life did not mean that one was simple. Sometimes it meant that you just had a different set of priorities.

  "You are surprised?" Estuardo asked, as seeing how Mark was looking around.

  "Yes, actually. How do you get them to leave you alone? The ones who would come in here and 'help' you?"

  Estuardo laughed, "My grandfather got them to declare our culture 'endangered.' So rather than trying to help us, they now seek to 'protect' us."

  "Your grandfather sounds like a very smart man," Mark said.

  Estuardo nodded and led Mark to a hut in the center of the village. There was an old man sitting out in front of it, holding an ipad and reading something.

  "Grandfather, this is Mark, he is the one leading the cougars who have been harassing the drug lab."

  "I thought I told you to run them off, Estuardo."

  "He challenged me, said he would talk with you."

  Estuardo's grandfather set down the ipad and looked at Mark, noticing the scars on his arms and upper body then turned to his grandson Estuardo. "He beat you?"

  "I decided not to give him the chance, and brought him here instead," Estuardo said with a smile.

  His grandfather laughed, "I see you are learning. Sit, both of you, be comfortable," he said and motioned to one of the hand made benches that were placed by the chair in which he was sitting.

  "I am called Javier, Mark. So what is so important that you would disturb our lands, start a war with the drug lords, and stand up to my rather impressive grandson?"

  "What do you know about those who hunt devils?" Mark asked him, going straight to the point.

  "I have heard some of the other clan leaders discuss it, when I was a younger man. They said that in the big war across the ocean that the man who led the German nation called upon many of them. But that was many years ago."

  "Yes, but the people who hunt them go back many years, and still hunt them today," Mark said. "It's just not common knowledge, and the governments and religions prefer to keep it that way."

  "So, I am to assume then, that you are one of those people? That hunts these things?"

  Mark nodded, "Yes, I am. These scars on my arms, I got those in a fight with a vampire and his minions, all of whom I killed, before I was changed by my women."

  "And those ones that look like the claws of a bear?"

  "A werebear who would not respect the laws," Mark said.

  "So, why do you hunt these devils?"

  Mark shrugged, "Because someone has to? Because I wanted to gain the protection of the church for my family, should we ever come to the attention of the humans? Because I hate vampires?" Mark paused and looked Javier in the eyes, "Or perhaps because I am good at it."

  Javier nodded and sat in thought a few minutes.

  "So," he said, "If you hunt devils, why are you bothering those at the laboratory? There are no devils there. We would have taken their scent if there were."

  "Several months ago a man recovered some of the flesh of a couple of devils who had been destroyed in a fight. Using new technology, some of those pieces were kept alive, other pieces made it into the hands of those who would use them to gain power over all."

  Mark sighed, "We have spent months tracking down all of those pieces and destroying them. The last of them are here, in that laboratory. They are using them to create drugs that will give humans many of the powers that we enjoy."

  "I can see where that would concern the humans," Javier said, "but I do not see why it would concern us."

  "The power comes from the devil, as with all things from the devil, I do not doubt that it has strings attached, or that it will warp the minds of those who use it. Do you think that they would leave you alone?"

  "We live a simple life, compared to the humans. Assuming they could find us, why would they even be interested in us? We have nothing that they want, as long as we leave them alone, they will leave us alone. They will continue to see us as a simple people, not worth their time."

  Mark sighed and threw his hands up in the air, "I'm not asking for your help, I'm just asking for you to let me do what I must."

  "Yes, but you wish to do it on our lands," Javier pointed out.

  "The flesh can grant the powers of death magic," Mark said, hoping that maybe this would sway him, "if the proper rituals are performed!"

  Javier shrugged, "The ancient Mayans who once lived here performed many such rituals, and not only did they leave us alone, they worshipped many of my own ancestors and treated them with respect."

  Growling, Mark jumped to his feet and glared down at Javier, "Fine, how about we fight for the leadership of your clan then?"

  Estuardo started to stand, but Javier waved him back down.

  "You would fight me; take the leadership of my people, solely to continue your fight against the drug lord?" Javier asked, looking up at him.

  "If that's what I must do, I will do it!" Mark growled.

  "Why?"

  "Because they are a threat, because what they have endangers us all, because the flesh came from devils sent to kill me."

  "And?"

  "And what?"

  "There is something else, isn't there?"

  "They attacked my brother and his family; I do not doubt they will attack him again, when they can not find the answers they seek, answers that my brother has already discovered."

  "Ah, so this is a matter of family then, of clan," Javier said nodding. "That is different, much different. Sit, sit," he said waving Mark back into his seat, "and let us discuss what we are going to do."

  27: Drug Processing Facility, Laguna Del Tigre, Guatemala

  Herman set th
e phone down and scowled. Carlos was not a happy man, that was obvious. It was also obvious that Carlos blamed him, him! For what had happened here last night.

  Herman didn't care for that; he didn't like taking the blame for things that were not his fault. The men here, they were not professionals; they were just thugs and hoodlums from the streets and slums of Guatemala.

  Well, there was no use in crying over things in the past, there was only the present, the now.

  Getting up, he went and got his web belt with his pistol, canteen, and his jacket with his gear. After putting that on he grabbed his custom AR-15. While the AK-47's were dependable, they were heavy and terrible when it came to accuracy. He wished he had brought one of his sniping rifles, they had a lot more power, but they were heavier as well and if he was going to spend the day trying to hunt down a couple of overgrown housecats, the last thing he wanted was to be carrying an extra ten pounds.

  He looked around the living room that he shared with Jorge, the facility supervisor, Huffman and his three assistants. It was actually a rather nice place they lived in, way better than the barracks that the regular workers were in. They even had a couple of rather attractive whores living with them to take care of their 'needs'. Oh, sure, they were supposed to be maids and cooks, Huffman and his assistants didn't eat in the regular chow hall with the rest of the men, but they sure didn't resist Herman's advances, or that of the good doctor's assistants either.

  Heading out he put his hat on and went and tracked down Jorge, who was talking with someone on a satellite phone about delivering the new generators.

  "Where are you going?" Jorge asked, looking Herman over.

  "I thought I might get a little hunting in," Herman grunted. "Carlos wants all of the regular workers disarmed, he doesn't want anymore of those cokeheads shooting up the other workers."

  "Already took care of it," Jorge said. "Just wish one of us had thought about it sooner! Jose, my best mechanic got shot in both legs! Without him, there's no way I can get these those generators fixed!"

  "When are the new ones coming?"

  "Day after tomorrow, soonest," Jorge sighed. "They have to ship them all the way up from the city, and the drive alone will take two days."

  "Yeah, well you might want to push them a little harder, I think Carlos is coming out here to take things in hand, personally."

  Jorge shook his head and sighed heavily, "I take it that is why you're going hunting?"

  "Yeah, maybe if I can bring back a couple of rugs he'll lay off the both of us."

  "That's a good idea, you ever hunt puma before?"

  "Hell, I've never hunted anything other than men before," Herman laughed.

  "One moment then, I really can't spare him, but Samuel over there," Jorge pointed to the single guard on the gate, "is a pretty good tracker. Take him with you."

  "You sure?" Herman asked, he knew that the guards were spread thin today, with so many of them working in the coke processing labs.

  "If you can bring down those pumas, it will make both our lives a lot pleasanter having something to show Carlos when he gets here."

  Herman nodded, Jorge had been with Carlos for longer than Herman had been, and if he was worried enough to short himself a man, then Herman wasn't about to turn down the help.

  "Thanks Jorge," Herman said and went over to Samuel.

  "Sam, Jorge wants you to help me hunt down those cats."

  Samuel looked up at Herman, then at Jorge over by the generators who nodded, and then back at Herman.

  "Finally! We do something!" he looked at Herman's weapon. "Would you rather use my rifle?" Samuel asked him.

  Herman shook his head; he'd had a borrowed gun jam on him once, because it hadn't been maintained properly. Ever since then, he took his own weapons if he had the choice.

  "You carry it," Herman told Samuel. "If fact, if you manage to shoot them before I do, I'll give you five hundred American!"

  Samuel smiled at that.

  "Great! Let us be going then!"

  Herman nodded as it started to rain, again. He hated the rainy season in Guatemala, but he'd been in worse places, and at least his hat kept the rain from running down his neck.

  "Won't all this rain make it worse?" he asked Samuel.

  "It makes it hard to tell individual pugmarks, but the softer ground means we will find more of them."

  Herman nodded and motioned for Samuel to get started, and they headed for the section of fence where the cats had been seen last.

  * * *

  Michael came up to join Clem, after Mark had left. Laying down next to him and peering over the top of the rise and through the trees and the rain he saw the shapes of two men, moving slowly through the trees, outside the perimeter fence.

  "What are they doing?" Michael asked.

  "Tracking us," Clem said.

  "What?" Michael asked, surprised.

  "They came out of the gate not long after you and my dad left, and went over to where we went in under the fence last night, now they're slowly back tracking our trail."

  "You'd think after everything we've done to them so far, that they wouldn't have the nerve," Michael said.

  "I think one of them is that Herman guy, the one who shot his own man yesterday."

  Michael growled a little at that. Several people back in California had been killed by Herman, that they knew of, some for little to no reason, and he'd even shot a woman in the knee after she'd helped him.

  "What are you thinking?" Clem said, looking at him.

  "I'm thinking I'm not in the US and I'm not a cop right now," Michael admitted.

  Clem's feline face smiled suddenly, "Well, with the old man gone..." he said, trailing off.

  "Don't sell your old man short, I think the only reason he hasn't killed anyone here is because he doesn't want to make a bad impression on his kids."

  "I thought he only killed devils and demons and such?"

  "Yeah, so did I. So, what are we going to do about this?"

  "Wait, what?" Clem said looking surprised.

  "The hunters down there, what are we going to do about them?" Michael said, nodding towards the two men.

  "Oh, that's easy. Dave and I used to mess with hunters all the time, let's see just how good they are first, if they can't find our trail back to the camp, it'll make things a lot harder."

  "What are you planning to do?"

  "Send them on a wild goose chase," Clem grinned. "Maybe even scare the hell out of them. They think they're tracking some dumb animals, so the last thing in the world they expect is to be set up."

  "I think I have a better idea," Michael said with a growl.

  * * *

  Herman looked at Samuel, who was shaking his head and muttering to himself. They'd been on the trail for a couple of hours now, and had been moving deeper into the forest for at least half of that time, heading farther away from the labs.

  "What?" Herman growled.

  "This doesn't make sense!" Samuel said.

  "What doesn't?"

  "These tracks! There are too many of them! We saw what, two pumas in the camp last night?"

  "Yeah, so?"

  "There look like at least three sets here, maybe more. I can't tell, because the rain has started to wash it away."

  "Didn't you say there were tracks in both directions?"

  Samuel nodded, "Yes, they came and left here."

  "Well, maybe they went back and forth more than once before they found a way inside."

  "Then they'd be more muddled," Samuel pointed out.

  "Well, maybe it's a group of them, a family or something."

  Samuel shook his head, "Pumas don't do that, not after they're gown, and none of these are cubs, they're all adults. See that?" Samuel said and pointed to one of the pugmarks that were in fairly decent shape still.

  "Yeah, what of it?"

  "That's a female's footprint."

  "So?"

  "We only saw males in the camp last night!"

  Herma
n shrugged, "Don't lions live in prides?"

  "These aren't lions! I tell you, there is something strange here."

  "Look, I don't care. I just want to find them and kill them and go back inside where it's dry," Herman grumbled. "Besides, if we kill one or two of them the others will probably run off."

  Samuel nodded slowly, "There is that. Remember to keep looking up into the trees as well as on the ground."

  Herman nodded, and continued to follow Samuel, keeping a careful watch as they traveled further into the forest. Under all of the trees, the rain wasn't as bad, but between the trees and the clouds, it was almost as dark as dusk.

  Twenty minutes later they came to a clear spot by a large tree that had been clawed heavily.

  "Looks like a scratching post," Herman observed while Samuel poked around, it was obvious to even Herman that the cats had spent some time here. There were several large bone fragments on the ground that Samuel said were probably from some sort of deer.

  "It is exactly that, look at this," Samuel said and pointed.

  "What is it?"

  "These tracks are fresh; see how they haven't filled with water yet?"

  Herman nodded; there were two sets of tracks, side by side.

  "Keep your rifle ready, we are getting close."

  Herman nodded and double-checked his safety was off, and then unbuttoned the flaps on the pockets he had the two spare magazines in.

  They moved forward slowly as Samuel checked the prints every minute or so.

  "At this rate, we'll never catch them," Herman grumbled.

  "Quiet, sound carries in the forest," Samuel said in a soft voice, "when they stop to rest, we will catch them."

  "If they stop to rest."

  "Pumas always stop to rest."

  Herman didn't say anything, Samuel was the expert and he'd gotten him this far after all. At least the rain had stopped.

  The next half-hour or so had them winding through trees and twisting about. Herman was getting ready to pull his portable GPS unit out of his jacket; his sense of direction was totally screwed up at this point.