Paranormals | Book 3 | Darkness Reigns

by Andrews, Christopher

  “Paperwork,” Crafter answered for him. “An inexorable force if ever there were one.”

  Density nodded and patted an understanding hand on Lincoln’s arm (which, again, lingered). “Boy, isn’t that the truth. Hi, Michael.”

  The lieutenant had joined them, and while he looked a little more himself than when he had first walked in, his demeanor still seemed a little rigid. Sure, Michael was often on the serious side, but Lincoln could sense a sharper edge lurking below the surface.

  “Hello, Amara,” Michael said, and his flat voice matched his bearing.

  Density picked up on that. “Bad morning?”

  “Not bad, really,” Michael tried to dismiss it with a shake of his head and a shrug. “Just following up on yesterday’s sting.”

  “Oh, God, yes, I heard about that,” Density said.

  “Me, too,” chimed Crafter. “Glad to hear you busted up them arseholes and saved all those young folk.” He swept his gaze across Michael, Mark, and Lincoln to add, “Brilliant job.”

  “Thanks,” Lincoln nodded his appreciation.

  Density also nodded her agreement with Crafter, then asked Michael, “Something up with Christine, then?”

  Lincoln bit back an “Uh-oh ...” over that, and Mark appeared to literally hold his breath as he watched Michael from the corner of his eye.

  Christine White had been Michael’s girlfriend for a very short time, before getting exposed as a plant for the psychopathic Richard McLane. It later came to light that McLane was also paranormal, with the ability to trigger superhuman traits in other people, “if the conditions were right” (which the PCA presumed meant, if those people would have eventually gone paranormal on their own).

  McLane had recruited Christine at some point, promising to make her “special” and getting her a job as a waitress at a café not far from the old PCA headquarters ... and Michael Takayasu ended up being her mark.

  Once this all came out, Christine tried to convince Michael that she had sincerely fallen for him. But Michael dismissed her, testified against her, and Christine White was imprisoned with all the other paranormal or suspected-paranormal compatriots of Richard McLane.

  Then, about a year ago, a prisoner transfer had placed Lieutenant Takayasu and Shockwave at the “rogue pit” prison on Christine’s birthday. As Lincoln understood it, Christine had never stopped writing to Michael, begging for his forgiveness, and so, since he was already on the premises, Michael reluctantly joined Christine’s family in visiting her. All Lincoln knew after that was that the two had remained in touch, and the situation was, as Mark put it a few months ago, “complicated as hell.”

  So it was very much to Lincoln’s surprise — and, judging by his face, a pleasant shock to Mark — when the lieutenant barely batted an eye at Density’s question.

  “Hmm? Oh. No, it’s not about Christine,” Michael told her, sounding almost uninterested. “Christine and I are fine.”

  “Are you two ...?”

  Michael smirked at that. “No, Amara. We’re just friends. She’s in a bad situation — which is her own damn fault, and she knows it. But she’s hoping to make up for it after she serves out her sentence. I just try to be supportive where I can, visit her every couple of months, write letters, that sort of thing.”

  Mark exchanged a look with Lincoln, and his raised eyebrows suggested that some of this was news even to him.

  Then Lincoln’s phone chimed. Removing it from his back pocket, he saw that it was Gant calling. “Hey, Ashton. Did we forgot to cross some t’s or dot some i’s?”

  “No, sir,” Gant answered. “Are you still in the building? Did I catch you in time?”

  “Yeah, I’m still here, down in the bullpen. What’s up?”

  “Someone is asking for you at reception, sir.”

  That surprised Lincoln. Tommy and Sarah’s PCA chaperone would have called ahead, and no one else, not even he, had known that he was going to be here today. “It’s not another reporter, is it?”

  “No, no, sir, I wouldn’t bother you with something like that. I was about to tell you: It’s Mia Singh, sir.”

  “ ‘Mia’ ... wait, the young woman from yesterday’s raid?”

  The group had been politely waiting for him to finish his call, but now they all perked up, especially Michael and Mark.

  “Yes, sir. She’s asking for you up front, so they called me first, and I told them I would contact you.”

  Lincoln didn’t know what else to say but, “Tell them I’ll be right there.”

  “Will do, sir. Would you like me to join you?”

  “No, thanks, Ashton. I’m standing right here with Lieutenant Takayasu and Shockwave. We’ll find out what it’s about, and if it’s important, I’ll call.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll notify reception now, sir.”

  Lincoln ended the call and told the others what was up. He briefly wondered if he should have asked Gant to run down with one of his spare ski masks, but Mia Singh had already seen him without one while they were held captive together; she knew what he looked like. So long as she didn’t ask to take a selfie with him or anything, he figured it would be fine.

  So, time to go.

  Bidding farewell to Density and Crafter, he led the lieutenant and Shockwave out of the bullpen.

  PCA

  Mia was sitting on a bench not far from the entry desk. For obvious reasons, no visitors could enter the PCA headquarters past the public lobby without prior authorization or an escort, and agents themselves still had to pass a number of varied security measures. And if any of them failed, the building could go into lockdown; even the temporary guest badges were rigged so, if necessary, the wearer could be stunned with nearly as much force as a V9 sidearm.

  Lincoln passed the desk with a friendly nod to Ensign Vogt and crossed to meet Mia, who rose to her feet as soon as she saw him.

  “Ms. Singh,” he said, offering a reassuring smile. “What can I do for you?”

  “I, uh ...” she stammered. “I’m sorry to bother you, Miste— um, Powerhouse? I, uh, I ...” She glanced at the lieutenant and Shockwave as though just noticing them. “Is ... is this a bad time? I didn’t know about making an appointment or ...”

  “It’s quite all right, Ms. Singh,” Michael assured her, and Lincoln noticed that he sounded more like his usual self, more in his element. “Is this regarding the incident yesterday?”

  Mia dropped her gaze to the floor, and Lincoln was surprised to see that she was blushing. “Yes, it is. Sort of, I mean. You see ... I did something stupid ...”

  She paused, and the three gave her a moment to gather her thoughts.

  “After your agents dropped me off at home, I ... I went back to the Church of the Seven Stars.”

  Lincoln and Mark exchanged a glance, while Michael said, “Ms. Singh, the agents who took you home should have advised you against that.”

  “I know, I know, I think they said something about that, I ... I guess I just ...”

  She began to shake; Lincoln wanted to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder, but didn’t know whether or not he should. Was this some sort of PTSD reaction to getting abducted? Something else?

  “... I was just so out of it, I didn’t really listen,” she was saying. “And after what happened at the Church last night, I ... I know they were right. Except then I wouldn’t ... I wouldn’t know ...”

  “Mia,” Lincoln suggested, “why don’t you sit back down and take a few deep breaths.”

  Mia nodded and took his advice. At a gesture from Michael, Lincoln sat down alongside her. Ensign Vogt was mouthing something from behind the reception desk, possibly asking whether or not they needed some sort of assistance, but Mark waved him off.

  Once Mia had herself under control, she continued, “So I walked back to the church. I went inside, and Pastor Ron was there with some of the elders, and they were talking to more of your PCA people. I was really mad, I wanted to yell at them, blame them for what ... what almost happened, and what
did happen, and just ... just ...”

  “Take your time.”

  She nodded, took another calming breath, and pressed on. “But even though I was mad, I still had, you know, my head on straight enough to not want to interrupt their interrogation or whatever. I just ... I just wanted to hear what they had to say for themselves, you know?”

  Lincoln nodded his understanding. “I get that.”

  “I couldn’t hear very well from the back, how they would explain themselves ... so I ... I ... I tiptoed up one of the aisles and hid between the pews.”

  “No one saw you?” Mark asked, sounding a shade skeptical. “No one noticed you ‘tiptoeing’ your way around?”

  “It was kind of dark in there,” she explained. “Almost all the lights were off. I remember ... I remember wondering why the agents hadn’t asked them to turn more lights on.”

  Lincoln asked, “What happened then?”

  “I wasn’t there very long before the agents left. And after the doors were closed, I realized I was ... you know, I was committed now, so I stayed down, I practically crawled along until I was closer to the alter. And I heard them talking — amongst themselves, this time.”

  “What about?”

  She looked up at Lincoln again, then at Michael and even Mark. “About ... about children. They were talking about children. Another one of those, uh, those ... those huge-boobed bimbos came out of the back with someone, I couldn’t see who, and the new guy, this man with a deep voice, he started yelling at them, telling them to hurry, to get ready for tonight, tonight after sundown.” Tears formed in her eyes. “It’s ... it’s not over yet. They still have children they’re going to sell. Sell, or whatever it is they do ...”

  All three of the men were on high alert now. “Ms. Singh,” Michael asked in a clipped voice, “did you overhear any details? Anything at all?”

  “I think, I think, they were saying that it’ll be in the same part of town where you rescued me. Not the same building, because you put that hole in the wall, but one of the older buildings. Under the bridge, I think — I heard them say ‘under the bridge’ more than once. I ... I don’t really know that area, but does ‘under the bridge’ mean anything to you?”

  “Possibly,” Michael said. “There’s a high freeway overpass not far from where we rescued you. Not the exact spot, but the same district, with older warehouses, abandoned buildings that are scheduled for demolition, things like that.”

  Mark grunted. “Sounds like the sorta places these rats would love.”

  But Lincoln stayed focused on Mia. “How did you get out of there?”

  She shook her head. “I-I didn’t. Not until this morning. Even after their ... their meeting, or whatever, the pastor and the others hung around for hours and hours, sometimes talking more but mostly just praying to the paranormals, the Seven Stars, sometimes in English, sometimes in other languages, sometimes just ... just moaning like a bunch of lunatics. I couldn’t just stay between the pews, I had to crawl underneath one of them, because they danced around some ...” She hung her head, again blushing. “By the end, I thought I ... thought I might pee my pants. I almost did.” She huffed and raised her face again. “When they opened the doors to the public in the morning, I got out of there. I went home and ... you know, used the bathroom, then thought about calling the police, but I wasn’t sure exactly where to begin with them.” She looked right at Lincoln, then, and almost smiled as she reached out and touched his arm. “Then I thought about finding you. And ... and now I’m here.”

  Lincoln placed his hand over hers. “You did the right thing, Mia.” He looked up at the lieutenant. “What now?”

  Michael slipped his hands in his coat pockets, thinking. “Ideally, we would try to get there before them — if they’re not already there, ‘getting ready’ for this new boss of theirs — but we don’t know the exact location, which building.”

  Mark added, “And if we show up in force, we might scare ‘em off. Then they’ll just sell the poor kids somewhere else.”

  Michael nodded his agreement. “We can have Crafter send in some scouts. Their small size would be helpful in this scenario.”

  Lincoln interjected, “Joey was just telling me that he’s having to rebuild his stockpile, something about losing a bunch of them to a rogue.”

  Mark grunted. “Great timing.”

  “It’s fine,” Michael said, “I’m just brainstorming.” He looked to Mia. “You said tonight after dark, correct?”

  She nodded. “Yes, they said ‘after sundown’ more than once.”

  Michael shook his head. “I would feel a lot better with more intel on what we’d be facing,” he glanced at his watch, “but time is not on our side on this one.”

  Mark folded his arms. “I’m thinkin’ we go in tonight right after dark — under the radar, just the core team.”

  Lincoln looked up at him. “Just us?”

  Michael nodded. “We can have Lieutenant Gant and other agents and assets on standby, outside a preset perimeter and ready to provide backup. But as to who actually moves in, I agree with Mark. I’m thinking just us.”

  “Well,” Mark chimed in, “us and the caped duo.” He glanced at Michael with a crooked smile. “Assumin’ you wouldn’t leave Davison Electronics out of this?”

  Michael smirked. “I wouldn’t think of it.”

  PARANORMALS

  Vortex and Shining Star landed atop a building a few blocks from where Lieutenant Takayasu designated their rendezvous; which, as Michael had mentioned, was not terribly far from where they had raided the rogue “gods” the previous day. The sun was still up, but not for long, and Michael had stressed the need to be surreptitious — the last thing they wanted was to announce their arrival via Callin’s bright, shining aura. So, from there, they made their way from rooftop to rooftop (Steve enjoying the private thrill of embracing such a superheroic trope, even as Callin helped him across when the gaps between buildings were too wide). Steve had also been concerned about drawing the attention of casual passersby, since their uniforms were hardly subtle, but as during their last visit, the whole area was rundown and mostly deserted, sans a few homeless vagrants.

  “We are nearly there,” Callin commented as they reached the latest rooftop. “How should we descend to the ground? I can lower us, but if we are trying to avoid detection ...”

  “Given the age of these buildings,” Steve responded as he turned in a slow circle, “I’m hoping to find an old style ... Ah. There.” He pointed to the fire escape. “We’ll take that, as quietly as we can.”

  When they reached the ground, a nearby parked sedan opened three of its doors, and Lieutenant Takayasu, Shockwave, and Powerhouse emerged, the latter two in their own uniforms.

  “Hey, guys,” Steve said. “We’ve gotta stop meeting like this.”

  Michael smiled, though it struck Steve as half-hearted. “Gentlemen,” he said in greeting. “As always, the PCA appreciates your ongoing assistance. And thanks for keeping your approach low-key.”

  Steve shrugged. “You said we were going to be sneaking around. We thought about driving over in our civvies, but changing inside a car is a real bitch.”

  Mark chuckled. “I hear that.”

  Steve asked all three, “Did you get any other information from Ms. Singh?”

  Lincoln answered with a shake of his head. “I think Mia’s told us everything she knows. The poor lady was so shaken up by all of this, we’re lucky we got the details that we did.” He gestured to the darkening buildings around them. “Somewhere around here, there’s going to be another meeting like the one we broke up before. Except this time, they’re selling little kids. That’s really all she could tell us.”

  Callin scowled. “That is repulsive.”

  “We all agree, Grand Lord,” Michael stated. “We don’t know their exact location, except that it will apparently be somewhere beneath the overpass.” He pointed back over his shoulder.

  Steve asked, “Why do you think they’re
keeping it so close to where we already busted them once?”

  “We don’t know.”

  Mark offered, “Maybe they’re countin’ on lightning not strikin’ twice? I don’t really give a shit, so long as we get to crack their heads open.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Steve agreed.

  Michael nodded his own agreement. “The police and a unit of PCA field agents, including Lieutenant Gant, are keeping a loose perimeter around the area, trying to nudge any civilians in a different direction. I hate to leave such a flimsy net in case these latest rogues make a run for it, but our number one priority is the safe liberation of the children. Understood?”

  They all nodded.

  “Okay.” Michael glanced up at the darkening sky, then around the street and buildings with their many aging lights and lengthening shadows. “One more thing ...”

  He returned to the car, opened the trunk, and withdrew two beige trench coats similar to his own. Tossing one to Shining Star and the other to Powerhouse, he commented, “These weren’t exactly intended for ‘urban camouflage,’ but I figure it’ll be better than you two moving around in your bright white uniforms, and Powerhouse going all shirtless. At least Shockwave and Vortex won’t stand out so much in the dusk.”

  While Mark chuckled at their expense, Callin nodded and pulled his on without comment. Lincoln grumbled a bit about how it wasn’t his fault, his brother and sister had chosen his uniform colors.

  Steve waited for Michael to give one of his little pre-fight pep talks. The lieutenant seemed a little off his game this evening, but he almost always threw out some last-minute words of encouragement, and Steve and the others took them to heart.

  But tonight, Michael stuck more to the dry facts. “Here’s the plan: While I wish we could have Shining Star perform some air reconnaissance, that would just give us away, so we’re going to spread out a bit, look and listen for any undue activity. It’s possible they may have soundproofed their location, and we will explore that possibility if our first pass turns up nothing. It’s also likely they will have either cameras or guards on watch, especially after the big raid, which is another reason why I wanted to cover up the white uniforms. Shockwave, your crimson won’t look too gaudy in this light. Vortex, you’ll blend into the shadows the best, but your and Powerhouse’s masks are a dead giveaway. Would either of you be comfortable taking those off for this?”