Specters: A Monster Squad Novel - 8

by Heath Stallcup

  “Oh no, no, no…” She stood and began pacing. “We have barely a third of what we started with. Can we make more?”

  “I do not think there is time. Nor do we have the supplies.” He stood and had to bend his head to keep from brushing it across the ceiling.

  “The vampire’s people took them?” She scowled as she stared out the window.

  “Yes, my queen. The ones not destroyed or damaged were taken by them, I am certain.”

  She squared her shoulders and an evil smile crossed her features. “Then we will just have to take them back.”

  *****

  Agent Bob Stevens rushed through his small apartment scooping up anything that he thought may be of value to him. He shoved it into duffle bags and set them by the door. He fell into the chair behind his computer and began copying files to a thumb drive. When he was done, he pulled the USB and slipped it into his pocket. He then started a worm and put his computer to sleep. If anybody other than him tried to access his computer either locally or remotely, the worm would be deployed. Once deployed, the worm would physically destroy his hard drive, and if activated remotely, it would infect the user’s computer and destroy it as well. Heaven forbid that person be connected to a network when he tried to hack his computer. The whole thing would go down before anybody could isolate and stop it.

  Bob stepped toward the door and took one last look at his place. Odds were good that he’d never be returning here. He glanced through the shades of his window and once he was satisfied that nobody was watching him, he grabbed his duffle bags and slipped out the door.

  Bob shoved both bags into the back of his car and shut the trunk. He went around to the front of the non-descript sedan and climbed in. He started the car and pulled it from the parking garage of his apartment building. He glanced down the street and headed for the interstate. It was a long drive from Virginia to Oklahoma, but he intended to load up on coffee and energy drinks and make it a non-stop journey. Other than filling the Crown Vic’s tank and emptying his bladder, he hoped to be at Tinker Air Force Base about the same time he was supposed to report to Ingram’s surveillance team.

  They would have their own transit time once they realized he wasn’t coming. Bob could only pray that there would be enough time for him to make his journey and make contact with the targets before things got way out of hand.

  5

  The helicopter touched down just north of the hangar and Mick raised his arms to remove his headgear. He paused and turned back to the pilot. “I meant what I said. Nobody else needs to die this day. Don’t be a hero.”

  The pilot raised his hands in defeat. “You know I can’t be quiet about this. You killed a good man. They will come for you.”

  Mick nodded as he pulled the headgear off. He patted the pilot’s shoulder. “Tell them good luck.”

  He jumped from the helo and stood back as it lifted again, making a quick hop across the base and to the hangar where he knew that Laura was. Mick pulled the wallet and ID he had taken from the dead pilot and began to jog across the base toward the Base Exchange. He’d have a little time, he assumed, before anybody could be gathered and sent to find him. He also knew from previous experience that the BX offered a barbershop and a uniform shop. Losing his facial hair and getting a military haircut might help him to blend in. A set of camo BDUs would help even more.

  As he approached the BX he noted the numerous soldiers coming and going, nobody seemed to really look at their face. “This should be easy enough.”

  He entered the barbershop and reached for a number. “No need son. I have a chair ready.” The older gentleman slapped the hair crumbs from the leather seat and Mick stepped up onto the chair. “What’ll it be?”

  “Shave and a haircut, my good man.” Mick flashed his best smile.

  “I was going to say you weren’t sporting a regulation cut.” The old man wrapped the cotton drape over him and began to lift the chair. “You Special Forces or something?”

  Mick raised a brow and had to fight back a laugh. “Me? No way. I was just…on extended leave. Had a death in the family.”

  “You ain’t from around these parts, are ya?” The old man pulled out an old-fashioned lather cup and began swirling his brush in it. He placed a hot towel across Mick’s face to soften his beard.

  “You got me there, pops. Definitely not from around here.”

  “I’d have to guess the Northeast or something. Funny accent.”

  “My mum was Aussie.” Mick smiled under the towel as the old man continued to make lather. When he lifted the towel and began brushing the lather across his face, Mick sighed. It had been many years since he’d had a professional shave.

  “We’ll get you all proper like in no time, son.” The old man was definitely skilled and knew his craft. Mick felt completely relaxed as he pulled the straight-edge razor over his face. He made quick work of the stubbly growth and the trimmed goatee. He knew he was done when he wiped away the excess lather and placed a fresh towel on his face.

  Minutes later, he was spritzed with aftershave and sitting upright, having his curls trimmed off into a nice high and tight taper. When the old man was finished, Mick reached into the stolen wallet and withdrew a handful of bills. He handed it to the barber and winked at him. “Keep the change, mate.”

  He whistled a tune as he stepped out of the barbershop and made a hard right. He glanced about to see if anybody was going through the area checking people. Satisfied, he stepped into the uniform shop. “It would seem that my bags were misplaced on the flight home. Can I pick up a spare uniform?”

  “With proper ID, we can get you suited up.”

  Mick reached for the stolen wallet and flashed the ID at her. “I just need one set of BDUs until my stuff arrives.”

  The lady pointed toward the back. “It’s all back there, sorted by size. Get what you need and I’ll get you checked out.”

  Mick whistled another little tune as he went from shelf to shelf pulling out what he wanted.

  *****

  Mitchell cursed and threw his coffee cup when he got the news about Mick. “Why the hell didn’t you find a way to get word to us?”

  The pilot squared his shoulders and stared straight ahead. “Colonel, the man is a pilot. After he killed Lieutenant Davis, he assumed his spot at the stick. He watched everything I did. I had no way of sneaking off a message.”

  Mitchell hung his head and nodded. “Very well, Captain. Dismissed.” He picked up the phone and dialed security. “Pull any images that you can of that pilot that came here with Laura and Jenny and get it out to the security forces on the base. Tell them to assume that he’s armed and extremely dangerous. Do not engage. They are to contact us for response immediately.”

  Mitchell leaned across his desk and shook his head. “It’s all just going to hell at once.” He glanced at the secret hiding place where he once kept his scotch. He really wanted to pull the bottle and suck down about a third of it, but he had to keep reminding himself that he didn’t have it anymore. He had donated it to the effort to save Mark.

  He collapsed in his chair and reached for his coffee pot. “What the…” He noted the broken coffee cup on the floor. “Great.” He pulled out the ugly Boston Red Sox coffee mug that Mark had given to him just to get under his skin. “Gonna make my coffee taste like crap, but oh well.”

  He sat back and tried to put things into perspective. The vampire council is apparently on the warpath. Laura has left. Mark is playing cowboy. There’s some new big bad threat on the horizon that he’s being left out of the loop on. His wife’s childhood bestie just killed one of his pilots and escaped after trying to help her dad kill them off. And it seemed like so long ago, but it was really just a matter of days since Mark lay on Evan’s operating table fighting for his life. Matt took a sip of his coffee and tried to wrap his mind around it all.

  “I picked a hell of a time to quit drinking.”

  *****

  Allister sat stoically as crate after crate wa
s brought into the area that the vampire said they could utilize as their work center. Furniture was brought in, computer stations, a large table and chairs. Couches were brought in and placed along two walls. He watched as two men came in carrying a flat, black rectangle. The man approached where he was sitting then paused. “Uh…I think we can mount this over here.” They quickly turned and bolted the thing near the ceiling on a nearby wall.

  After the deliveries had been made and the men left, Allister caught the scent of something he hadn’t smelled in a long time. Sulfur permeated the wooden crates. He approached cautiously and pulled the top from one of the boxes. Layered within were white vests with white balls inside, bathed in a light blue liquid. Multiple strings ran from every side of them and he dared not pick them up lest they be poisoned. “Demon witchcraft.”

  He placed the lid back on the box and resumed his position in the corner, waiting for whoever should return first. He had the distinct impression that he was not going to enjoy his tenure with the humans as much as the Wyldwood may have suggested.

  *****

  “Do you still have sway with the Vatican, mon ami?”

  Viktor shrugged. “I do not know. After I returned the unused relics, they didn’t seem much pleased with me.”

  Rufus sighed and ran a hand along his chin. “We must at least try, non? See if we can convince them of the threat.”

  “The Roman Catholic Church does not officially recognize Lilith. She is a…Jewish myth, at best.” Viktor sat and his shoulders slumped. “They recognize that the word ‘lullaby’ may have come from ‘Lilith abi’, or ‘Lilith, go away’, but they refuse to acknowledge her as a true historic being.”

  Rufus shot him a look of amazement. “Even when she is threatening to send suicide bombers into all of their largest cathedrals? You would think they would care more for their parishioners than the one making the threat.”

  Viktor shrugged again. “They may. They may listen, I simply do not know.”

  “You must try.” Rufus took him by the shoulders. “I implore you, mon ami. You must go to them and make them see the light. Take them one of the vests. Show them. Make them see that the threat is real.”

  Viktor nodded. “Very well. I can try. I do not think that I can get one of the vests into Vatican City though. I will have to see if Cardinal Sardelli can meet me on neutral territory.”

  “He can still be trusted?”

  Viktor nodded. “He risked all to allow us access to the relics. I believe he can still be reasoned with.”

  “Very well. Take my jet. Go and be quick. Tell him that the lives of many thousands may be in jeopardy.”

  Viktor stood and turned for the door. “And if he can be reached, but he cannot convince those higher than himself?”

  Rufus averted his eyes and shuddered. “Then woe be unto any who cross paths with the demons of Lilith.”

  *****

  “What are you trying to tell me, Punk?” Jim stared at her sternly as she tried to reason with him.

  “You heard me, Daddy. I told you everything that Evan told me. You overdosed on the serum. If we don’t give you the full dose of the second stage…” She averted her eyes as they threatened her again.

  “I call poppycock on that.” Jim swallowed the last of his coffee and grimaced. “I used to love this stuff, but now it tastes…off.”

  “That’s just a side effect of the drug, Dad. And he wouldn’t lie to me about this. He knows how important you are to me. He said there could be mood swings, that you could shift without a trigger, that—”

  “And that!” Jim interrupted her. “What the hell is a trigger?”

  She blew out a breath and tried to explain to him. “It can be anything from a stressful situation to…to the full moon.”

  “Yeah, right. Look, Punk, other than not sleeping too well, I feel fine.”

  “Then just take the second dose so we can ensure…”

  “I don’t need another dose. I can feel it pumping through my veins, Punk. Would you really want to take that away from me?”

  “Daddy, if we don’t, you could shift into the wolf and never shift back. Or if you did shift back, your mind would remain as a feral wolf. You don’t want that, do you?”

  Jim shrugged. “I don’t know. I might.” He gave her a crooked smile. “Sounds like it could be fun.”

  “Daddy! This is no time for jokes.” She reached for her bag and he stopped her.

  “And I’m serious, Punk. I don’t need that second shot. The first one cured me. That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?”

  She shook with frustration as she tried to think of a way to reach him. “Dad, the longer we wait, the less of a chance it will even work. At best, we’re looking at fifty-fifty.” She pulled her hand away from him. “I’d like to keep you around and healthy for your grandkids. And for Crystal.”

  Jim leaned back on the counter and crossed his arms over his broad chest. “For Crystal, eh? Who do you think you’re kidding, Punk. You can’t stand her.”

  Laura groaned and reached into the bag. She withdrew the syringe and was reaching for the other vial when he stepped away from her. “No, I mean it. I don’t want it.”

  “Dad, don’t make me call the boys here to hold you down to take your medicine.” She gave him a childish smile. “You’re as bad as a little kid who doesn’t like the cough syrup—”

  “I said ‘NO’!” he yelled at her just before he turned and darted through the back door.

  Laura watched him make for the woods and her heart fell. “Oh, shit.”

  *****

  Mark stepped from the old Humvee and walked into the hangar as McKenzie parked the beast. He noted Second Squad cleaning their gear and reloading their ready sections. Dom glanced up and saw the XO as he crossed the hangar. “Yo, boss, I hear you went cowboy in the field. Hoo-yah.”

  Mark slowed his walk and turned toward the team, still grab-assing as they finished their chore. “Yeah, Spalding got his tit caught in the wringer, and I had to pull it out.”

  Hammer tossed his gear bag up onto the peg then turned to face Tufo. “I hear the colonel ain’t too happy about it.”

  Mark stiffened slightly then shrugged it off. “He’ll get over it. It all works out in the end.”

  McKenzie came up behind Mark carrying his gear. “Hey, XO, you gonna stow this crap or you want me to do it?”

  “I’m admin. You get to.” Mark shot him a wink then turned for the elevator.

  Dom stiffened when he saw Mac enter the hangar. “What the hell are you doing, Chad? I sidelined you.”

  McKenzie froze and glanced toward Tufo. Mark spun back and approached Dominic slowly. “He was the only operator still on base and I needed support. I wasn’t necessarily trying to go over your head, Dom, but it was an emergency situation.”

  Dom’s features softened somewhat and he nodded to Mark. “Very well, Major. I guess I’m glad he was here to assist.”

  “He did more than just assist. We probably couldn’t have done what we did without him.” Mark shrugged. “I may be wrong, but you may want to reconsider his being sidelined.”

  Dom gave him a confused stare but simply nodded. “I’ll take it under advisement.”

  Mark spun about and headed for the elevator again. Dom and the rest of Second Squad watched until he got clear then he turned to Mac. “What gives?”

  Chad sighed heavily and shrugged. “Let’s just say I had a bit of an epiphany. You were right.” He tossed the gear bags up onto the table and began going through them. “I won’t argue with you sidelining me, but I owe you an apology.” He turned to the rest of Second Squad. “I owe all of you one. And when the time comes that you’re ready to let me train with the squad again, I look forward to it.”

  Donnie chuckled and nudged the newbie. “Who are you and what did you do to our McKenzie?”

  Mac took the ribbing in stride. “Yeah, yeah. I know I was being a prick.” He stowed the major’s gear and turned to his own bag. “I just had a bit
of a wakeup call, that’s all.”

  Dom approached him from behind. “So what did it take to wake you up?”

  Chad stiffened slightly and he gently lay the spare magazines on the table. “I think seeing how quickly things can fall apart out there…how much we’re needed to operate as a team for this to work.” He nodded as he spoke. “I think that woke me up more than anything.”

  “So what happened out there, Mac?”

  Chad dumped the rest of the gear out while he tried to find the words. “I know I’ve been busting on Sullivan pretty hard. But seeing him on his knees with a pistol to his head? Yeah, that woke me up.”

  Dom clasped him on the shoulder. “I hate that it took that to snap you back to it, but I’m glad you’re back. We hit the trainer first thing tomorrow. Be there.” Dom turned and headed for the rear stairwell.

  Chad watched him for just a moment before turning back to his chore. All the while, he kept thinking, If anybody is going to hold a gun to that bastard’s head, it will be me.

  *****

  Bigby backed the stolen pickup to the smaller storage locker. He knew there wasn’t near as much hardware inside this one as the larger one, but it gave him something to work with. America might be overflowing with firearms, but you simply can’t walk into any gun store, plop down money and buy fully automatic, military grade weapons.

  He kicked open the door to the storage locker and loaded the two crates. He lifted the lid on one and shook his head. “More fuckin’ Sigs. What is it with these South Americans and their Sigs?” He slid the box further into the truck then pulled the door shut on the locker. Barely enough ammo to run through half the hardware he had, he sat behind the wheel and tapped at his jaw. Regular rounds will hurt like hell and take a while to heal, but silver kills. What to do, what to do?

  He put the truck into gear and eased out of the storage rental. He hated the idea of trying to trade weapons for ammunition, and where would he find silver ammo? He pulled out and followed the main road to the interstate onramp. He wasn’t sure where he was going just yet, but he knew he wanted to get away from the city.