“So you run?”
“I go to face them while you and your army defeat her.” He lowered his voice even more, “They will be watching this battle, I assure you. My brother will remain and fight as my Second. This satisfies their decree. But I will go and face them while they are distracted.”
“And what is to stop me from killing your brother the moment you’ve left?” The venom dripped from his voice as his eyes bore into the other man’s.
Rufus shook his head softly. “You are a man of honor, a warrior, and you value another warrior in a battle such as this. Every warrior…” He glanced at Paul then back to Kalen. “Even one whose only purpose might be as a distraction, is still a plus.”
“Or I could simply kill you both where you stand.” His hand hovered over the blade strapped to his waist.
Rufus nodded. “You could. And you would have every right. Or you could follow me back over that small rise and open a gateway for me so that I can destroy the Council.” He looked to Foster and shook his head. Foster slid the dagger back into the sheath on his own belt and stepped back from Brooke. “I wouldn’t have let him harm her. But I needed you to know the importance of this.”
Kalen narrowed his eyes on the vampire. “I cannot trust you.”
“Then send me away. To here.” He handed the coordinates back to him. “If it is daylight here, and I am lying, then I will be dead as soon as I step through. Or you could open a pathway to another location and place me in a meadow with no shade to protect me. The decision is yours.”
“You would go blindly?”
“I would have no choice. I need to get to the Council while they are distracted. My man, Viktor, will be arriving there shortly. I cannot ask him to do what I must.”
Kalen glanced at the crowd then took a silent step backward. “We must be quick or I will be missed.”
“Thank you, mon ami.”
“I am not your friend. I am only doing this because I fear you would double-cross us in battle if I did not.”
*****
Mick played out numerous scenarios in his mind. Attacking and killing Bigby, bringing the bloody corpse to Jenny and she’d swoon, accepting his gift and wrapping her arms around his neck, kissing him, telling him how she had been wrong and proclaiming her undying love for him. He sighed as reality set in and he remembered the last time he’d actually seen her.
She didn’t care two whits about him. She was mated to the leader of the human hunters now. She wanted nothing to do with a werecat. Her father wouldn’t allow such a mating even if she had wanted it. He would stop at nothing to hunt them both down and end his bloodline with their own deaths.
He felt his eyes watering up and he sniffed back the tears that threatened to streak his cheeks.
“What’s your problem?”
Mick looked up at saw Bigby staring at him from across the open office space.
“Allergies.” He wiped at his nose and turned away.
“Yeah, right. You’re a were. You don’t get allergies.”
“I’m allergic to dogs and bullshit. And, oh look…the room is full of both.” Mick got to his feet and marched toward the door.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“To take a piss. Want to come and hold it for me? The doctor says I shouldn’t lift anything heavy. Bad for my carpal tunnel syndrome.” He hiked a brow at Bigby who flipped him the bird.
Mick pushed through the door then stuck his head back out. “If you change your mind, wash your hands first.”
Mick walked into the third floor lavatory and stared out the window at the same hangar that Bigby had been studying since he stumbled upon the lair. He sighed and pressed his forehead to the glass. He felt the window give slightly in its frame and he pulled back, studying it.
Applying a bit of pressure, he felt the window give a bit more. An idea sprung to life, and he quickly guesstimated the height of the window and assessed the ground below. Concrete sidewalk and hard-packed earth. He took a deep breath and tried to remember the longest jump he had made as a cat and the hardest ground he had landed on. He was certain he could make it.
But then what? How to alert the human hunters without being killed first? How to do it without Bigby dropping him in his tracks before he could clear the hundred and fifty yards to the hangar?
He glanced at the night sky and the moon above. Barely a sliver of silver hung in the air and the night was as dark as pitch. If he was lucky and darted wide, he might could stay outside of Bigby’s range.
He felt his body begin to shift before he made the decision to do so and his hands pressed against the edges of the window frame. His sensitive ears picked up every grain of grit as it ground against the metal frame. He felt one side break loose, and he instantly thrust his arms outward, pushing the window as far away from the building as he could.
In a flash, he shifted, mounted the narrow opening, and planted his feet along the concrete edge of the window opening. He heard Bigby stomp across the floor toward the bathroom and just as the door burst open, he pushed off and out from the window with all of his might.
For a brief moment he felt the cool night air as it rustled through the hair covering his body. He felt his thick tail trailing behind him and the world slowed as he sailed through the air like a giant, striped bird.
As the ground came rushing to greet him, he tucked and rolled then gathered his feet under him. He could hear Bigby’s cursing from high above him and the slamming of surplus office equipment as the man rushed back to the main floor.
Mick did his best to zigzag across the open terrain toward the hangar. He wanted to be the most impossible target possible for the SAS sniper. His mind raced as he tried to calculate where the man might expect him to be. He’d leap right, then left. Then he’d leap left again, then right, constantly moving, constantly putting as much distance as he could between himself and the man that he knew was trying to paint crosshairs on him. Tufts of dust, rock and debris erupted from the ground around him as Bigby’s shots went wild.
He saw men in military uniforms rush from the dual guard shacks and rapidly close ranks, weapons at the ready. Mick had to make a decision…stop and try to explain why he was there and hope they didn’t shoot him, or do his best to evade them and Bigby.
He chose the lesser of the two evils and leapt toward the guards, sailing over their heads in a long graceful arc. He didn’t hear the shot that ripped through his midsection, but he felt the bite of the bullet as it shattered ribs. Shell fragments and bits of bone destroyed the lower portion of his lung, a lobe of liver and several feet of intestine.
Mick fell, sliding to a stop just inside the open door of the hangar, blood pooling around him as he slowly shifted back to his human form. He knew he was going into shock because the mad rush of activity around him dulled to an annoying buzz in his ears and his eyes began to lose focus as he stared toward a lone Humvee.
One of the guards pressed a knee against his legs and pulled his hands behind his back, cuffing him before rolling him back to his stomach. Mick grunted with the pain and spat a mouthful of blood as he tried to cough and clear his chest of the precious body fluid that was choking him to death.
He lifted his head and stared at the guard beside him. “Bigby…across the road. In the office building. He’s going to gas the whole lot of you…”
“Say again?” The guard lowered himself and placed his ear closer to Mick’s mouth as he gasped, trying to force air into his ruined lung.
“Big…Bigby. Across…the…road. Gas. Wants to…gas you all…” Mick’s eyes glazed over as his heart stopped beating and he stared into the great nothingness that only death can bring.
His last coherent thought was, Please let me save her.
*****
Jameson folded his trench coat and draped it over his arm. “Robert, as soon as we can figure out the logistics, we’ll make arrangements to fly the entire Spartan program overseas and…”
“Sir? Something strange jus
t came over the wires.” A man in a white lab coat and holding a clipboard interrupted. “I think you might want to take a look at this.”
Jameson glanced at his watch then laid his coat back down. “Make this quick. If I hurry I can still meet my wife for after dinner drinks.”
Ingram fell into step behind the older man and the trio re-entered the command center. “Sir, we intercepted a NORAD request for a Reaper drone.”
“NORAD? Why the hell would they want a Reaper?” Ingram reached for the report and scanned it.
The technician in the lab coat shook his head. “That’s just it, sir. They didn’t. I mean, it is their codes, but it wasn’t NORAD. I contacted their command duty officer and he denied any such request.”
Jameson pulled the sheet from Ingram’s hand and glanced at it. “This drone is domestic. Pull the video feed from it.” He handed the sheet back to Ingram who ignored it as the screen came to life.
“What frequency are they on?”
“It’s a scrambled military channel, sir. Shouldn’t take a moment to decrypt.”
“Well do it then.” Jameson took his seat again and watched as the drone slowed and began making lazy circles in the sky, its visual record fed to their monitors. “Can we switch to thermal?”
“Yes, sir. Whoever is utilizing this bird will have no idea that we’re piggy backing off their feeds.” The tech tapped in a few commands and a moment later thermal imaging appeared on the next screen.
“Good heavens. What is that? A protest?” Ingram whispered.
“In Bumfuck, Oregon? I highly doubt it.” Jameson scoffed. “I want high resolution images. Focus on this smaller group outside the perimeter.”
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“If you’re thinking that it’s the Monster Squad and that they’ve commandeered a domestic drone, then yes.” Jameson leaned back and watched as the image enlarged then focused, enlarged and focused and continued to clarify until he could see men in uniform. The camera panned and Jameson nearly choked.
“What in the holy hell is that thing?”
“A sphinx?” the technician guessed.
“Get me hardcopies of every heat signature in this perimeter group, understood?”
“Understood, sir.”
Ingram leaned in to Jameson and whispered, “What in the world are these guys doing? Now they’ve got a sphinx working with them?”
Jameson shook his head. “I have no earthly idea. I know that they had a fanger helping them, but this?” He glared at Ingram. “This is just…wrong.”
“Uh, sir?”
“What now?” Jameson barked then swallowed hard as the camera focused on what appeared to be a giant winged man. He spread his wings and leapt high into the air, his bat like wings scooping air until he reached altitude, allowing him to glide. “Jeezus H. Johnson…what was that?”
“A demon?” Ingram fell into the chair beside Jameson and tried to swallow. “Are they in league with the Devil?”
“Sir? We got two more anomalies. This one is burning quite a bit hotter than the others and the one next to him. Ambient temperature.” The tech turned and gave him a wide eyed stare. “Could it be a zombie?”
“How the hell should I know?” Jameson barked. “Do I look like I know what the hell is going on down there? Just keep making me hardcopies of each subject.”
“You want to send the Titans against a group like this? When we don’t even know what kind of resources they have at their disposal?” Ingram choked. “Jesus, Jameson, they’re protected from fangers…but zombies? An infection like that would decimate the entire program.”
“We don’t know what it is, Robert. You’ll do well to keep your head about you. It could be a damned fanger for all we know.”
“Really? We’ve seen fangers in action. They had some kind of heat signature. Even if it was a residual from their activity or from earlier in the day. This thing is cold, whatever it is.”
Jameson reached across the short space and grabbed Ingram by the shirt front. “You will keep your cool, and we will watch this play out. Do you understand me?”
Ingram nodded, his head bobbing up and down. “I understand. I don’t like it, but I understand.”
“We’ll see what this Monster Squad is capable of against a couple hundred targets.”
“Sir, there’s nearly a thousand by the computer’s best estimate.” The tech turned and handed him the printouts of the hardcopies he had requested.
“Fine. We’ll see how they do against a thousand.” He sifted through the papers then turned back to the tech. “How do we get faces on these?”
“Sir, they’d have to look straight up. The satellite can only look down, so…”
Jameson sighed. “Of course.” He tossed the hardcopies aside and crossed his legs. “Let’s settle in, gentlemen. Something tells me this may be a long night.”
14
“I have no doubt that he’s concerned for my well-being but I can’t believe he actually called you.” Jennifer paced slowly in Mitchell’s office, the glass of scotch tinkling in her hands. “If he’s that concerned about the mercenary he contracted, why doesn’t he cancel the hit?”
Mitchell sipped his coffee and tried to avoid the aroma of the smoky alcohol in her glass. He also tried to avoid staring at her form as she marched back in forth in front of him.
“He tried. It didn’t take.”
“A mercenary that doesn’t take orders isn’t worth much in my book.”
“Agreed. But this guy isn’t your average soldier of fortune. He’s an ex hunter from an overseas team. His boss tangled with us and was removed. He’s holding a grudge.”
“By removed, you mean you killed him.”
Mitchell shrugged. “Not originally. We simply removed him from his team and…look, it doesn’t factor into the equation now so there’s no sense in rehashing the details.”
A knock sounded from Mitchell’s door. He barked and it opened, a flustered master sergeant appearing at the edge. “Sir, we have a situation with the prisoner.”
“The prisoner? Oh…the CIA guy. With everything else going on, I’d almost forgotten him. What’s the problem?”
“He’s freaking out down there, Colonel. He keeps screaming that the Titans are coming and that we’re all going to die. Personally, I say we drug him to shut him up, but he’s got some of the men so agitated that I’m not sure what to do.”
Mitchell groaned and ran a thick fingered hand across his face. “Get Doc down there and see if he can sedate him. Not knock him out, just calm him down. I’ll be down there after he’s got his shit together and—”
A security officer pushed past the master sergeant and ran into the door jamb. “Colonel! We have a problem topside.”
“Problem? Why didn’t you call on the intercom?” He stood and marched toward the man.
“It wouldn’t go through, sir. We tried.” The security officer escorted him to the lift with the master sergeant and Jennifer in tow.
“Sitrep.” Mitchell held the door until all had filed in and then pressed the button.
“The werecat, sir. He came back and…somebody shot him.” The security officer cast a worried look to Jennifer who couldn’t contain her shock. “It wasn’t one of ours who dropped him sir.”
“Then who the hell was it? A base patrol or—”
“We think it was Bigby, sir. The cat said—”
“His name was Mick!” Jennifer interrupted, her face stern.
“Yes, ma’am. Mick told the topside guard that Bigby was across the road in the old office building. Said he planned to use gas on us.”
“Gas?” Mitchell clenched his jaw so tight that he feared his molars would crack. “Get an engineering team on that intel. Any possible way of implementing that threat, I want it neutralized.”
The doors opened and he marched out toward the small crowd gathered around the fallen werecat. One of the security officers had draped a tarp over his body but the blood had begun
to run from under the edge. Jennifer closed her eyes and looked away as they closed on his form.
“Who spoke to him?”
The security guard stepped forward and motioned Mitchell to the side. “I did sir. He claimed that Bigby was in the building across the road. I’ve already sent two teams to investigate.”
Mitchell stared at the building and noted the missing window. “Son of a bitch. He was right here all along. And not a single squad member to send after him.”
“The man who shot Mick is over there?” Jennifer’s face was stone and he could tell by the way her shoulders were set that she was ready to go on the hunt.
“We don’t know yet. We’ve got people checking.”
“I want his balls, Matt.”
“I want all of him.” He cast a glance at the man on the floor, his mind imagining Apollo being struck down without warning. “And he will suffer.”
*****
Jack watched patiently as Allister finished his spell and waited for some awe inspiring crescendo. He was disappointed when the griffin simply leaned across the makeshift altar and blew out the candle. He looked up at those around him and whispered, “It is done.”
Jack glanced around and shrugged. “That’s it? No flash of light or eerie glow or…not even a healthy fart?”
Gnat cracked a grin as he leaned on the handle of his hammer. “I could work one up for ya there, Chief, but we’d have to carry you into battle.”
“No thanks, Travelocity. I just really thought there would be something to indicate it worked.”
Allister replaced the last of the items into his bag then met Jack’s stare. “You mean something that would alert them that they were locked in this plane? I think not.”
“Good point.” Jack turned to the warriors gathered around and motioned to them. “You know the drill. Take your positions and prepare for the worst. Remember, Lilith is the primary tango. We drop her, the rest are neutralized. Let’s move out.”
Marshall leaned across to Dom and mumbled, “Why do I get the feeling this op is gonna be FUBAR?”
Specters: A Monster Squad Novel - 8 Page 20
