INCURSION: Faeblade (Knight's Bane Trilogy Book 2)

by Bryan Donihue

  Ghost paused, caught completely off guard. What was this guy talking about? Is there something else?

  "What do you mean your investigators have been gone for two days? Where did they go? Are they the ones who committed the massacre?" Out of the corner of his eye, Ghost saw Heavy's hand drop to the butt of the handgun on his hip.

  The man in front of him sputtered, "W-w-w-what massacre? My investigators were at the old Dawkins residence when they disappeared. What are you talking about?" He genuinely seemed confused.

  The federal monster hunter stopped and realized that they were talking about two different events. Related? It would have to be something they checked on later. He decided to press on with his original purpose. Changing tactics, he abruptly sat down in one of the comfortable chairs arranged in front of the desk. Do-Right sat down next to him, and Heavy and Scout backed up and stood near the door.

  Ghost was almost conversational, now. "We are not here to talk about any missing investigator team, we'll have to look into that later. We're here on Accord business. We know you are not signatories, but you seemed like someone who might have information.

  "There was a massacre at a Seelie club in town a couple days ago. It seems like the perpetrators were human, and I'm here to find out if you have any information about who might have committed the hit. No humans were killed, so this is not a human enforcement issue. Since it was in our territory, we are the Signatory responsible for the investigation."

  Lancaster relaxed slightly, then caught what Ghost was insinuating. He shook his head, "No, Agent... Vanhof. I hadn't even heard that something had happened to the club. None of my sources ever mentioned anything, and it certainly didn't hit the gossip rags here.

  "I can guarantee it was not any of my people. We don't employ any kind of 'hit' team, or 'action' team like some of the other groups. You know us. We work against cults, especially Chthonian or Lovecraftian variants. We don't use violence. I've worked with your Agent Smith a couple times now to help him in this area. Why would we attack an Accord signatory?"

  The fed nodded slowly. "I know that you have worked with us in the past. I honestly did not think one of your crews was behind this. Do you know of anyone else operating in this area that might have serious firepower? Taking on a young vamp or a couple cultists is nothing, but these guys just took on a bunch of Seelie fae."

  Lancaster leaned back in his chair, his brow creased in thought. He slowly shook his head. "I can't think of anyone with that kind of stupidity...." He trailed off, then said in a low tone, "No, they wouldn't be that crazy. Would they?"

  Ghost raised a single eyebrow, questioning the man's not-so-inner monologue.

  Lancaster looked at the federal hunter and said, "There may be someone. There's a new group in town that just formed up. The leader supposedly watched his kid brother get killed by a werewolf, although I couldn't ever validate that one. We interviewed him, but he was way too, I don't know, crazy? He just wanted to blast everything not human. I didn't want the liability of him on one of my investigator teams."

  Ghost was interested. This sounded like someone with a grudge.

  The SPH Director continued, "This guy started his own monster hunting group. He called it 'Zero Tolerance.' He calls it 'ZT' for short. He got a bunch of his militia buddies to join him, and now they make noise. They spend a lot of time up north, especially in the U.P., but I've seen them down here recently. His name is Nate Miller. I think I've got his original paperwork in the reject files. I'll have Betty get them for you. I think he's your best bet."

  Ghost nodded. That really sounded like their suspects. "I guess it's time to find this Zero Tolerance and ask them a few pointed questions. Thank you for your time. You'll have to forgive me, but I need to reinforce the geas."

  Lancaster seemed to slump, but agreed with the need for supernatural secrecy. After Ghost was done and Lancaster had told his assistant to find Miller's paperwork, he had one final warning for the federal agent. "Be careful, Agent Vanhof. Those ZT guys are a little off kilter anyway, and they already don't like the government. The fact that you are government monster hunters and may interfere may just push him over the edge. They are well equipped for battle against non-humans. And the same weapons work against humans as well."

  Ghost thanked the man and the two men shook hands. Betty was waiting in the lobby with the requested paperwork, and the team filed down to their SUV. Once they were inside, Ghost leafed through the paperwork they had been given as Do-Right drove the black government Suburban. As they pulled up to a stop light, Ghost read from the file, "This looks promising. Grand Rapids address is listed as primary address. He's in the suburbs." He entered the address into the on board GPS and Do-Right followed the directions to the northwest side of the city.

  The DHS team leader placed a call to Spooky to see what kind of information he could dig up on this Nate Miller.

  12

  SUSPICIONS

  ZERO TOLERANCE, 8TH AVENUE, MARNE, MICHIGAN

  The black Chevrolet Suburban with government license plates sat idling on side of the road about a mile away from the target house. The team had twice driven by the driveway of the address, but could not see the house because of the growth of trees and brush near the road. The early fall sun was still high in the air, but the late afternoon would quickly turn to twilight.

  Alpha team had earlier stopped by the listed address of Miller in Walker, a suburb on the northwest side of Grand Rapids. His wife had answered the door with an infant in her arms. Once Ghost had flashed his badge, she had said that her husband was with his club just outside the city, at one of his friend's house. After getting the location from her, he had forced some willpower through his credentials and made sure she would not call and warn her husband they were coming.

  Now they were sitting by the side of the road, a mile from that target house, while the DHS leader pulled up satellite images of the address on his tablet. Looking at the house from a satellite tasked for this mission, Ghost counted seven cars in the driveway, including one that looked like the late model red Chevy Impala that Miller drove. The six others were trucks and SUVs. He could see no activity outside the house now, but he had seen three gentlemen walk into the large connected outbuilding on the property.

  "All right. These guys are suspects only, and have not injured or attacked humans, as far as we know. Paperwork shows that Miller owns several firearms, but does not have any run-ins with law enforcement. They may be a fringe group of nuts, or they may be something harmless. We are going into this one as investigators, not interrogators. A little intimidation is ok, outright threats will not help." The DHS lead looked at the large hulking agent taking up two-thirds of the back seat. "Heavy, this means you need to be nice."

  "Aww, man." The big agent complained, "I was looking forward to this one, too."

  "Save it for later. I will do most of the talking. Heavy, you are with me. Do-Right, you and Scout stay outside on the perimeter. Everyone got their radios set?" Nods all around. "Great. Do-Right, pull us up into the driveway, and leave room to maneuver."

  The former deputy sheriff put the Suburban did as instructed, pulling into the driveway and coming to a stop, while leaving several feet of distance between Knightmare's truck and the others in the driveway. As Do-Right shut off the big V8, the door to the outbuilding ahead of them opened, and a man came out. As the DHS agents climbed out of the truck, the former deputy noticed the large pistol worn in the holster on the man's right side.

  The man went back inside and closed the door. As Ghost nodded for Do-right and Scout to spread out a little, the door opened again. A different man stepped out and walked toward them, followed by two more.

  The man in front was Nate Miller, according to the picture in the file. Just over six feet tall, the large man was in his late twenties and had a boyish grin on his face. Unkempt short brown hair and a thin mustache and goatee matched his large brown eyes. Dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, the unbuttoned flannel shirt failed to c
over what looked like a Beretta 92-series handgun in a holster strapped to his right side.

  Behind Miller, his two companions were both more serious-looking, and were both openly sporting large stainless-steel handguns in holsters, one a 1911-style automatic, and the other a large caliber revolver. Both men had their arms crossed and were definitely not pleased about being visited that day.

  As Ghost drew his credentials from within his duster, Heavy stepped up beside, and a little behind him, his giant arms crossed over his chest. Before Ghost could introduce himself, Miller welcomed the agents.

  "Gentlemen, to what do I owe the pleasure? I'm guessing you are here to talk to me? From the looks of you, you are not locals, nor county. You are driving a blacked out Suburban. You must be feds. Secret Service or CIA?"

  "Mister Nate Miller? I am Special Agent Jonas Vanhof, Department of Homeland Security. And these are my colleagues. Yes, we would like to ask you a few questions."

  Miller's brow furrowed, "Homeland Security? What do you guys want? Normally, if you have questions about groups of guys with guns, you bring an entire SWAT team with you."

  Ghost looked around and then spoke, "Is there any way we can talk in a more... private setting? I just have a few questions to ask you about some recent events."

  Miller made a show of looking around, "It doesn't get much more private than this. Anything you have to ask me, you can do so in front of my friends. And frankly, I'd rather not invite you anywhere inside right now. You don't get to peek unless you have a warrant.

  "Agent Jonas Vanhof?" The young man switched subjects, "Don't you come from a long line of rather famous monster hunters?" His eyes widened and his smile got even wider. With something approaching fawning admiration, he began babbling, "Oh my gosh! I knew the government had a special group for hunting monsters. Holy crap, I can't believe I'm meeting you. Are you the same group that works with the aliens?"

  The federal agent was taken aback. The people he spoke with did not normally react like this. It took him a moment to regroup. When he did, he interrupted the torrent of words flowing from the gentlemen in front of him.

  "Yes, Mister Miller, I am that Jonas Vanhof, but who may or may not be my family is not of concern today. I'm here to talk to you a recent incident in Grand Rapids. As you have deduced, part of our job is to deal with rather specific types of cases in America. This is where you can help us."

  Miller was nodding emphatically while his two companions were very stoic in their response.

  Ghost shifted subjects slightly, "I understand you tried to join the Society for the Preservation of Humanity a while ago. Why?"

  Miller's face clouded with pain, "I wanted to fight back. I watched a werewolf, or some creature like it, take my kid sister. Once I knew that evil things like that existed, I wanted to kill them all." His voice grew soft, and a single tear found its way down his cheek.

  "But they didn't want me." A flash of anger in his tone and eyes. "Some bullshit excuse about my mental state and not being the right kind of person." His eyes cleared up, "But I'm over that now. I found like-minded friends, and we have formed our own little group."

  Ghost nodded. He had watched the rapid shifts in emotions with alarm. There was something manic in there. He casually began, "That's the group I want to talk to you about. What do you call it? 'ZT?'"

  Miller nodded emphatically, "Short for Zero Tolerance. It's our way of saying that enough is enough, and humans are the only ones who matter."

  The federal monster hunter looked at the man before him. "So have you and your boys been busy dispensing a little 'zero tolerance' justice lately? What have you been doing?"

  The young man suddenly grew quiet and looked at Ghost and his companions shrewdly. "We've not done anything that concerns humans. As I said, we're strictly pro-human. Why do you ask? What happened?"

  Ghost could not figure if the man was intentionally playing dumb, or really was that clueless. He decided to push a little further, just to see if he could draw the man out. "It seems that there was some activity dealing with a couple of the supernatural creatures in town. Someone hunted them, and we're here to find out who."

  "Sorry. That doesn't sound familiar." He turned to the men behind him. "Jim? Scott? Anything in that sound familiar to you?" Both men shook their heads. Miller turned back to the federal agents, "Sorry. We didn't have anything active lately. Did you check with Lancaster at SPH? There's a couple of his 'investigators' that really don't like monsters and have no problem killing them."

  Ghost decided he needed to take a more direct approach. "What was your group doing two nights ago in Grand Rapids?" The federal agent asked. "Are you sure you guys didn't happen to enforce a little of that 'zero tolerance' attitude?"

  Ghost was expecting a reaction. He figured he would get a vehement denial, a loud diatribe justifying the action, or possibly even a gunfight once Miller realized that he had been caught. He was not prepared when Miller burst out laughing. It was a few seconds before the man could control his breath enough to talk.

  "I'm sorry, Agent Vanhof. I didn't mean to laugh at you, but I couldn't help it. Two nights ago was the Big & Rich and Gretchen Wilson concert at the free fair. Hell, half the boys worked security for the show, and the rest of us got backstage passes because of them. We were all out enjoying great music and warm beer way too late. I know my wife chewed me a new one the next morning. You could check with the fair board for the guys working security, I guess."

  "Listen," the ZT leader continued, "What happened? It wasn't us. I can vouch for all my guys, and the fair itself can vouch for at least half of them. If you are telling me a couple monsters got roughed up, I'd love to know who to thank."

  Ghost grew serious. He was getting frustrated and starting to worry about the Queen's ultimatum. "I'd like to talk to your group. Even if you didn't authorize it personally, your group looks guilty. This is serious, and you are mucking around with matters that you have no conception of. This is not the simple matter of a lone lycanthrope, or a simple vampire staking. You are actually messing with signed treaties."

  Miller was getting agitated. "Look, just because our government kisses a monster's ass instead of kicking it, it's not my problem. I know what these monsters can do. Hell, man, you know what these monsters can do. Why should I care about some stupid monster treaty?"

  Ghost kept his voice low, his calm exterior desperately covering his building anger at the willful ignorance of this man. "Mister Miller. I assure you that such treaties do affect you, as they keep some of the nastier things away from humanity. My department is charged with maintaining those treaties. So I will need to speak to your group, just to make sure that none of them did something monumentally stupid two nights ago. I will have to insist on this, and you do not want to test me."

  Miller stood there and Ghost watched the flickering of emotions across the man's face. Pride. Anger. Cunning? That last one made the federal agent pause. What was he thinking?

  Miller's eyes cleared, and he gave a small nod, as if to himself. He then turned and shouted for a couple of his guys, "Jason. Alex. Go get the rest of the guys. Tell 'em meeting in five, in the workshop." He looked at one of the men with him and gave him directions as well. "Scott, go into the workshop. Make sure you clean up any of the trash and pizza boxes. Let Bill know that we'll be having guests, so he can put on some coffee. Make sure the place is ready for our esteemed visitors."

  The DHS team leader knew that they were cleaning up anything they considered "secret", but it did not bother him. His instincts told him that this group had not committed the massacre. Those same instincts told him they would definitely be addressing a hostile crowd.

  The next ten minutes involved Miller trying to be defiant and threatening, while across from him, Heavy exuded confidence and the belief that he was invincible. Miller and the big fed were getting into staring contests, and the results were fairly even, until the leader of Zero Tolerance abruptly stopped his games, glanced at his watch, and said
, "Well, they should have everything ready for you." Then the man and his escort turned toward the workshop door that he had exited earlier.

  Ghost and Heavy immediately stepped forward to follow their host. As they stepped through the door and into the workshop, they saw a group of men and women sitting on chairs or standing, waiting for them. With ages ranging from the late teens to the late fifties or sixties, the men and women were a diverse group, and looked to be from all different walks of life and ethnic backgrounds. And every one of them was looking at the federal agents with a hard, hostile glare.

  Ghost looked around at the headquarters of Zero Tolerance. The room was large, roughly thirty feet across and another ten feet longer. Part of it was arranged with various workbenches and equipment that would make some machine shop owners jealous. There was a full kitchen at the far end, and a lounge area next to that, complete with rugs and furniture surrounding the battered cast-iron potbelly stove with a fire blazing away. Ghost also noticed a large battered desk near the lounge area, but it was currently free of any paperwork or office supplies.

  Miller stopped in front of his group and cleared his throat. The general noise died very quickly. "These gentlemen," Miller indicated the two Section 28 team members, "Are federal agents with Homeland Security. They are here to ask you all questions. They have not produced any warrants, so none of you have to answer. Agent Vanhof, they're all yours."

  Ghost stepped forward and raised his credentials. "I am Special Agent Jonas Vanhof with the Department of Homeland Security. My partner is Special Agent Arthur Murphy. Mister Miller is correct that we do not have a warrant, but we have some questions about an incident that happened two nights ago. We are specifically looking for more information." He paused to let his statement sink in.

  As he looked around the room to begin again, Ghost noticed Miller reach into his jacket pocket and pull out an older cell phone. The man pushed a button and answered the phone, walking away from the group.