Sharp Teeth and Bloody Claws (Gray Spear Society Book 12)

by Alex Siegel

  Shipman took one last look at Summerlin. The man was still alive but just barely. He looked like a mass of twitching raw meat, and blood had spread half-way across the floor of the test chamber. Rats were chewing holes in his exposed guts. Good riddance, Shipman thought.

  Rat-man had a sick smile on his face, and he seemed intent on staying to the bitter end.

  Shipman and Burch walked off.

  * * *

  Hanley closed the door of the brown moving van. That's it, he thought with relief.

  Cleaning out Shipman's laboratory in the basement of the Hediger Institute had taken three hours of hard labor. Even all the rat cages had been packed up with the rats still in them. Hanley's arms were sore and his back was stiff from lifting and pulling. He looked over at Katie, and she appeared even more beat than him. Her shoulders were slouched over like an old woman. She had done her part without a single complaint though, and he admired her for that. In his experience, women were too quick to use their gender as an excuse to avoid physical labor.

  Hanley stretched his back to try to loosen it up. Night had fallen, and the temperature had dropped enough to put an unexpected chill in the air.

  "OK," he said. "Our next stop is Shipman's house."

  Katie sighed. "I just want to go home. Actually, I want to eat dinner first."

  "Me, too, but orders are orders. We'll eat on the way back to Pacifica. I'll drive the moving van, and you drive the car. Use the navigation app in your phone if we get separated."

  Hanley walked around to the front of the brown van and climbed up into the cab. They had rented the van from a place in Davis for this job.

  He started the engine, shoved the stick shift, and drove off. Min Ho had sent him the address of Shipman's house earlier. Hanley used his phone for navigation, and the trip across Davis took only a few minutes.

  Shipman lived in the northeast corner of town, across the highway from a huge corn field. Hanley parked in front of the pink, two-story home. A front porch had a high, arched roof. Palm trees in the front yard gave the place a tropical feel.

  He stepped out of the van, and his stomach grumbled. He was also hungry.

  He scratched his palms with his fingernails. The itching sensation was relentless, and it almost felt like his skin was burning. If the condition didn't start improving soon, he would have to see a dermatologist. Fortunately, the Gray Spear Society had outstanding medical benefits as long as he used a fake name.

  Katie parked the blue sedan behind the moving van. She stepped out and rubbed her arms in the cool air.

  "Just because we're tired doesn't mean we can be sloppy in there," Hanley said. "Stay alert. Watch for traps. Be prepared to deal with threats. For all we know, the place is infested with man-eating rats."

  She shuddered. "Got it."

  They retrieved flashlights from their supplies. They walked up to the front door, but all the windows were dark, so he didn't expect anybody to be home. A sign on a window indicated the home had a security system.

  Hanley took out his phone and called Min Ho.

  "Sir?" the hacker said.

  "We're at Shipman's house, and it has a security system."

  "I already hacked into the security company's computers and got the code. I'll send it to your phone. The control panel should be by the front door."

  "Thanks. Good job." Hanley hung up and smiled. It was nice working with real experts.

  A moment later, he received a text message with the code number.

  Katie crouched down in front of the door. "I think I can pick this lock, but it might take me a while."

  "Don't bother. Just step back."

  She moved back. He looked up and down the street to make sure there were no witnesses. Then he drew his gun, kicked the door open, and ran inside. He spotted the security control panel and quickly typed in the code. A little light changed from red to green.

  Katie entered with her gun in hand. She turned on the light and closed the door.

  Hanley glanced in all directions, checking for threats. The front room contained an old couch, a recliner, and a television. The wooden floor was a bit dusty.

  "Let's stick together," he whispered.

  They silently swept through the house, checking every room. The furniture was sparse but comfortable. If Dr. Shipman had a wife or kids, there was no evidence of it, but a few photographs portrayed him as a child with his parents. He wasn't a slob, but there was enough messiness to show he was a bachelor. The bathrooms in particular needed a thorough scrubbing.

  "Nothing here," Hanley said. "I guess we can go home."

  "What about the attic?" Katie said.

  "Attic?"

  "From the outside, it looked like there was some extra space between the second floor and the roof, but I haven't seen a way to get up there."

  He raised his eyebrows. "That's very observant."

  "Thanks." She smiled.

  They checked the second floor again but still didn't see a way up. Hanley couldn't even find a ceiling panel.

  "Another secret door somewhere?" Katie said.

  "Seems like Shipman is a fan of them. Let's just make our own door." Hanley pointed straight up.

  "I'll do it. I need practice using explosives. I'll get them."

  She hurried down the stairs and out the front door.

  In the meantime, he fetched a ladder he had seen in the garage. He brought it upstairs and positioned it in the center of the house.

  Katie returned with a gray duffle bag. She pulled out a one-ounce charge of C-4, climbed the ladder, and taped the explosive to the ceiling. Then she attached a detonator. Hanley observed to make sure she didn't make a mistake.

  "Always double-check all the electrical connections," he said. "A loose wire on a bomb can really mess up your day."

  She nodded.

  When the timer was counting down, Hanley grabbed the ladder, and both legionnaires went downstairs. He wasn't worried about the neighbors hearing anything. A single ounce wasn't a huge amount, and the explosion would happen indoors.

  He covered his ears. The shockwave from the blast rattled the windows and thumped the floor, but he didn't see anything break.

  The legionnaires jogged back upstairs. There was a nice hole in the ceiling now, and when Hanley shined his flashlight through it, he saw an attic above. He positioned the ladder under the hole.

  "Ladies first."

  "OK," Katie said, "but I'm not sure it's chivalrous when the lady is going into a dangerous, perhaps lethal situation."

  "It's the thought that counts."

  She climbed the ladder and hesitantly stuck her head through the hole. She shined her flashlight in all directions.

  "This is crazy," she muttered.

  "What?" Hanley said.

  "You have to see this for yourself."

  She pulled herself up through the hole and into the attic. He quickly followed her up.

  The floor of the attic was completely covered with sheets of paper stapled to the bare wood, and notes were written on the sheets in red pen. Much of it looked like mathematical formulas, but words and crudely drawn diagrams were mixed in.

  Hanley read out loud, "The impulse resolves to resonant and non-resonant components, the latter being automatically damped in the cortex by the limited availability of neurotransmitters..." He switched to another sheet. "Equation 372 can be applied by observing that the chaotic interactions between axons and dendrites have a characteristic temperature related to the surface tension of synaptic vesicle..."

  "These must be Shipman's original notes from when he invented the rat control technology," Katie said.

  "There are no chapter headings or paragraph breaks. It's all one stream of consciousness."

  "And I don't see any corrections. He wrote it all by hand without making a mistake. Wait. The pages are numbered. Maybe I can find the first one." She walked back and forth across the attic, waving her flashlight. "Here it is."

  "What does it say?" Hanley said.


  "I had a marvelous dream last night. My only explanation is my subconscious is brilliant. These notes are my recollection of what I learned during the night. The cognitive functions of a rodent can be seen as a convolution of four systems, each controlled by a set of equations. The first is the..." Katie looked at the hundreds of sheets of paper. "That was quite a dream!"

  "I don't think it was a dream at all."

  He took out his phone and called Marina.

  "Yes?" the commander said.

  "We found something very interesting in Shipman's house." Hanley explained what they had discovered in the attic.

  "Sounds like communication from an enemy of God, but let's be sure. I presume Shipman was in his bed during his dream. Collect evidence from his bedroom."

  "What kind of evidence, ma'am?"

  "Hard materials," Marina said. "Crystals in particular. They can be tested for exposure to supernatural radiation. The atomic dislocations last for years. Then burn the house to the ground."

  "What about the notes?"

  "Definitely burn those."

  "Yes, ma'am," he said. "We'll come straight home afterwards."

  "Well done. Bye."

  Hanley put his phone away. "Katie, I have new orders from the boss. Let's go to the bedroom."

  "And we can take the stairs."

  Katie pointed at a staircase leading down. It probably connected to the secret door they hadn't been able to find earlier.

  Hanley walked over to the staircase and shined his flashlight down. The light fell upon a door at the bottom, and several sticks of dynamite were wired to the handle. The bomb looked like it was set to go off if anybody tried to open the door.

  "Or maybe we won't."

  Katie stared at the bomb. "We're lucky we never found that door. We'd be dead."

  "Yeah. In the future, let's always make our own door if we can."

  "Sounds like a good plan."

  They used the hole to get back down to the second floor, and they went to the master bedroom.

  Shipman slept in a king-size bed even though he lived alone. Green sheets and blankets were wadded up and shoved aside as if he had been angry at them. Metal blackout blinds covered all the windows. Rat skeletons in life-like poses stood on the dresser.

  "What now?" Katie said.

  "We collect evidence," Hanley said. "We want hard, crystalline objects which can be tested for exposure to supernatural radiation." He took a sheet off the bed and spread it out on the floor. "We'll use that as a bag. Load it up."

  Chapter Eight

  "I'm still curious about those agents from the California Department of Justice," Burch said.

  "I told you everything I know," Shipman said. "I never got their names."

  The two men had just finished eating an exotic, seven course meal. The meat dishes had included pheasant, kangaroo, and giraffe. Instead of potatoes or carrots, the vegetables were delicacies like shiitake mushrooms from Japan and lapsi fruit from Nepali. Solid silver plates and utensils had been the rule. Shipman had never eaten finer or more expensive food in his life.

  "That was rather sloppy," Burch said.

  "They caught me off guard. I was shaken. I'd recognize them if I saw them again though. The man looked strong, and he had short, dark, curly hair. The woman was medium height with brown hair and blue eyes. Why are you so worried about them?"

  "They may not have been real agents."

  Shipman raised his eyebrows. "Then who were they?"

  "That's not a question you need to worry about now. Let's just say I have powerful enemies who often misrepresent themselves." Burch furrowed his brow.

  They were eating on a deck on the roof of his mansion. Heat lamps were keeping away the chill, but an occasional breeze off the ocean raised goose bumps on Shipman's arms. Carmel wasn't enough of a city to create a lot of light pollution, so he could see thousands of stars in the clear night sky. A full moon was peeking over the horizon. The serving staff waited outside the circle of light and out of earshot.

  "I have another question, if you don't mind. Why did you kill those people in the Santa Cruz Mountains?"

  "Technically, I didn't kill them," Burch said. "Rat-man did. That's an important legal distinction and one you'll do well to remember. I had two reasons actually. First, I wanted to field test the control technology. You can only learn so much in the sterile conditions of a laboratory. I needed to know it would work in a real-life setting, and obviously, the test was successful."

  "What was the other reason?" Shipman said.

  Burch wagged his finger. "You don't need to know about my other business interests."

  Shipman didn't like being kept in the dark, but he couldn't do much about it. Burch obviously led a very complex, secretive life, and the rat control technology was only a part of it.

  "It does seem risky," Shipman said. "Those murders attracted a lot of attention."

  "It was a calculated risk. Rat-man didn't leave any incriminating evidence behind, and he even collected the bullets. There is nothing that could tie those murders to me. I've been following the progress of the official investigation, and so far, the authorities are clueless. The most popular theory is mountain lions killed those people."

  "The agents who came to my office knew it was rats."

  "Yes." Burch pursed his lips. "They were remarkably well informed. Enough shop talk. Let's finish eating, and then I'll show you to your room. You must be tired. You'll stay here as my honored guest, of course."

  Shipman was suddenly suspicious. "For how long?"

  "This is your home for the foreseeable future. Understand?" Burch smiled in a threatening manner.

  "Yes."

  * * *

  Aaron was holding Marina against his body, and she was glad for the extra warmth. The night had turned a little chilly even though it was late spring. Having grown up in Chicago, she still wasn't used to the lack of seasons in the San Francisco Bay Area. It never got very hot or very cold here. One had to pay attention to tell the difference between summer and winter. If she wanted, she could wear the same clothes all year round.

  The two commanders were waiting outside headquarters. The sound of an animal in the bushes drew Marina's attention to the surrounding hills. They were huge masses that looked like sleeping giants in the night, and she hoped the giants were friendly. Clumps of trees were darker patches on a brown background.

  A brown moving van and a blue sedan drove down the private driveway. Marina assumed her legionnaires were at the wheels, but she put a hand on her gun just to be safe. She had two Berettas in holsters on her hips. Aaron put his hand under his shirt where he carried a .50 caliber Desert Eagle.

  The blue car went into the big, white tent and parked. Katie stepped out, and her face sagged with exhaustion. There wasn't space for the moving van under the tent, so it parked on the driveway beside headquarters. Hanley got out and appeared equally tired.

  He slapped the side of the brown van. "All the evidence is in here, ma'am, including a number of live rats with computers attached to their brains."

  "You cleaned out the laboratory?" Marina said.

  "Completely, and we burned the house. The whole place was on fire when we left."

  "Great. You two can get some sleep. We'll have a staff meeting in the morning. But before you go, we need the evidence you took from the bedroom right now."

  Hanley opened the back of the van and climbed into the dark interior. She heard frightened rats squeaking. He came out holding a bed sheet like a sack, and he handed it to Aaron.

  Aaron hefted the evidence. "You got a lot. Good."

  "Go home," Marina said. "You both did a great job."

  "Thank you, ma'am," Katie said with a broad smile.

  She and Hanley walked up the driveway. They lived in Pacifica, and walking home would only take them a few minutes.

  Aaron and Marina entered headquarters through the front door. Imelda was on duty in the security booth, and she looked at the commanders throu
gh a sheet of bulletproof glass. She was wearing soft, fuzzy pajamas for her long night on watch.

  "What's in the sack, ma'am?" she said.

  "Evidence," Marina said. "Let us through."

  The door in back of the entry chamber buzzed. Aaron and Marina went through to the main part of headquarters.

  They walked past Min Ho at his computer workstation. The hacker was trying to identify the girl who had stolen the phone. Marina didn't interrupt him.

  Corrie was watching television in the "living room" area. It was some kind of science show involving space ships and black holes.

  Marina walked over to her. "We have a present for you."

  "Ma'am?" Corrie muted the television.

  Aaron placed the sack of evidence on the floor.

  "We need this stuff tested for residual traces of supernatural radiation," Marina said.

  Corrie looked at the sack. "Now?"

  "Of course now! That's why I kept you here. This can't wait."

  Corrie gnawed her lip.

  "You know how to do the test, right?" Marina said. "You studied the procedure? You have all the equipment?"

  "Yes, ma'am, but I've never done it for real."

  "You'll get a lot of practice tonight, and by morning, you'll be an expert. We're going to sleep. Good night."

  Marina took Aaron's hand, and they headed for her bedroom.

  * * *

  Marina looked at her team. The legionnaires had gotten some sleep, so they were moderately fresh. Imelda, Min Ho, and Corrie, on the other hand, could barely keep their eyes open. Imelda had just come off security duty and would go home as soon as the meeting was over. Jia had replaced her in the security booth.

  "We'll start with Corrie," Marina said. "Let's hear your report."

  It had taken all night for the scientist to test the evidence. Her eyes were red, and her eyelids were half-closed.

  "Several of the tests were positive, ma'am," Corrie said. "The strongest result came from a diamond ring. The gem showed clear indications of exposure to the positron bursts caused by a supernatural intrusion." She paused. "I didn't think the test would actually work, but I can't deny the scientific evidence."

  Marina smiled. "Excellent. I'm not surprised by the result, but it's always good to be certain." She looked at the rest of her team. "This is officially a mission now. We must obliterate the rat control technology and anybody who possesses it. Dr. Shipman in particular must die. The stain must be wiped clean. Liam."