Cryptid Quest: A Supernatural Thriller (The John Decker Supernatural Thriller Series Book 8)

by Anthony M. Strong

  “Adam.” Decker’s stomach rumbled. He hadn’t eaten before leaving the house, figuring the canteen would be open. He looked hopefully toward it.

  “Not yet,” Adam said, as if reading Decker’s mind. “Briefing first, then food.”

  “Guess I should’ve grabbed something before heading down to the ferry.” Decker felt a flicker of annoyance.

  “Which would’ve been the smart thing to do. Plan ahead and cover all eventualities. A good lesson.”

  Decker gritted his teeth and fought back the urge to remind Hunt how he’d ended up in a jail cell in Ireland not too long ago by not covering all the eventualities. It was Decker who sprung him. But it was not smart to remind your boss of their failings, especially when they were about to send you somewhere that could get you killed. He swallowed his annoyance and decided breakfast could wait. “Let’s get on with it, then.”

  “First things first,” Hunt said, leading Decker to a security station across the lobby. “You will need to leave your phone here. You can collect it after I’ve briefed you.”

  “Why is that?” Decker asked. He’d never had to give up his phone before. It was a handset provided by CUSP, and as such, was impervious to hackers and operated on a private, secure network.

  “New security protocols.” Hunt waited for Decker to hand over the phone, then spun on his heel and set off toward the elevators. “Follow me.”

  They rose two floors and in less than a minute were inside Hunt’s spacious yet strangely impersonal office.

  Decker waited for Hunt to sit down, then settled on the other side of a double pedestal desk finished in dark cherry.

  Hunt picked up a remote control from the desk and pointed it toward a flatscreen TV mounted on the wall. The opening credits of a show were already waiting on pause. He pressed play and let the episode run until the opening monologue was over, then paused it again. “Recognize this?”

  “Sure,” Decker said. “It’s that ridiculous monster hunter reality series on the Travel Network. Although I use the word reality loosely.”

  “Cryptid Quest.” Hunt leaned back in his chair, one eye on the TV. “The main presenter is an archaeologist turned wannabee PT Barnum called Darren Yates. He teamed up with a cryptozoologist and a biologist. Together the three of them have been trekking all around the world looking for everything from the yeti to the Jersey Devil. This episode is from the fourth season. It should be right up your alley. The Loup Garou.”

  “I must have skipped that one.”

  “Doesn’t matter. You didn’t miss much. They spent most of the episode running around the swamps outside of New Orleans in the middle of the night scaring each other.”

  “I guess they didn’t find anything, then?”

  “They found an alligator that almost bit their producer’s foot off. That made for about ten seconds of interesting TV, but no werewolves.”

  “I’m guessing that happens a lot.”

  “Which is why they’re making bad reality TV instead of working for CUSP,” hunt said.

  “They should’ve looked me up,” Decker said. “I could’ve pointed them in the right direction.”

  “Maybe you still can, if you can find any of them alive.”

  “So that’s my mission? Rescuing a reality TV crew.”

  “Ridiculous as it sounds, yes. They’ve been shooting a six-part special down in the Amazon. Some obscure story told by the locals about an ancient lost jungle fortress defended by monsters. Everyone but the nuttiest of pseudo-scientists have already written the story off as nothing but a myth. Even the production company that makes the series thought it was a load of bull, but that isn’t the point of the show. People lap this stuff up.”

  “Except you don’t think it is bull.”

  “No. I believe they stumbled into a genuine discovery.”

  “Why?”

  “The production company chartered an old Brazilian military helicopter and equipped it with lidar. They spent a couple of weeks making passes over the jungle, looking for anything they could use as the basis for a show, even if it turned out to be nothing out of the ordinary.”

  “And they found it.”

  “They got a hit on something big. A structure buried deep in the jungle. It was invisible to the naked eye, completely covered in vegetation. It was also in an unexplored region and hard to reach.”

  “But they went there, anyway.”

  “A group set off from base camp three days ago. Seven people including three presenters, a producer, and three production crew. It was a two-day hike in. They were going to spend one day at the structure, then hike back out. They never returned.”

  “Maybe it just took longer than they expected to get in and out,” Decker said. “Or they ran into some sort of trouble. Either way, I’m not sure this has anything to do with us. Sounds like a job for a search and rescue team. Maybe even the military.”

  “They did run into trouble, but not before they reached the structure.”

  “Let me guess, they found something you’re interested in.”

  “They found a bunch of stuff. Like a pair of obelisks covered in Egyptian hieroglyphics and ancient Greek writing. And that’s not all. There really is a fortress of sorts there. A large pyramid of ancient origin. And it’s covered in more of the same.”

  “Hieroglyphics.” Decker wasn’t convinced. “In the Amazon jungle?”

  “That’s what they reported when they contacted base camp via their satellite phone, although the transmission was a bit garbled.”

  “Poor reception?”

  “Not quite.” Hunt sat back in his chair and observed Decker. “You remember when I said the myth mentioned monsters guarding the fortress?”

  “Sure.” Decker had a nasty feeling about where this was going.

  “It’s not a myth. Darren Yates, the show’s presenter, made the call. He was practically hysterical.”

  “And?” Decker leaned forward.

  “He claimed monsters attacked them. Told the rest of the team back at base camp a Cyclops killed his audio technician.”

  “Come again?” For a moment Decker thought he’d heard wrong. “Did you say a Cyclops?”

  Hunt nodded slowly. “That’s exactly what I said.”

  7

  Decker was momentarily speechless as Adam Hunt’s words sank in. Then he rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “How did this information come to us?”

  “An asset at the United States Embassy in Brazil used back channels to alert us of the situation. The production company contacted the embassy yesterday to report the team missing. They wanted a contingent of US Marines sent down there to go in and rescue their production crew and presenters.” Hunt snorted. “As if that was going to happen.”

  “Do you believe the sat phone call was genuine?”

  “Why wouldn’t it be?” Hunt asked.

  “Because we’re talking about a reality TV show. The whole thing could be a setup. The production crew head off into the jungle, then one of them makes a call claiming monsters attacked them. Which is what their show is about, after all. There’s huge press coverage and they get all sorts of free publicity. After they get rescued, they can claim they didn’t get the Cyclops on tape. No one will be able to prove anything either way, and they get a ratings hike.”

  “That’s a cynical way to look at it.”

  Decker shrugged. “Just because someone cries wolf, or in this case Cyclops, that doesn’t mean there really is one.”

  “You’re forgetting one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Darren Yates went as far as saying the creature killed his audio technician. Difficult to fake that.” Hunt raised an eyebrow. “Unless you’re suggesting the production company decided murder was worth the ratings boost.”

  “I think we can rule that out,” Decker said. “But come on, a Cyclops?”

  “Is it any stranger than Grendel being real?”

  “That’s a fair point. But even if such a creature exist
s, what would it be doing in the Amazon? Those things are straight out of Greek mythology.”

  “And they discovered Greek inscriptions at the site alongside the Egyptian hieroglyphics.”

  “I guess that makes sense then, in a completely nonsensical way.”

  “Doesn’t have to make sense,” Hunt said. “Surely you’ve seen enough weird stuff to realize that by now.”

  Decker shrugged agsain. “I suppose you’re sending me down there to deal with this thing.”

  “And whatever other monsters might be lurking around.”

  “You think there’s more than one?”

  “Don’t know. But Darren Yates said monsters attacked his team. Plural. Granted, one word in a frantic call from a distressed individual is not much to pin a theory on, but I wouldn’t count it out. If Darren Yates is to be believed, both the Greeks and the Egyptians were at that site, apparently together. There must be a reason they would risk crossing a hostile ocean and constructing a building so deep in the jungle.”

  “You think they took this Cyclops there and imprisoned it in the same way the Vikings put Grendel in that labyrinth under Clareconnell?”

  “It had crossed my mind. Then I got to thinking, why do all that just for one creature?”

  “Good point,” Decker said. “But something still doesn’t make sense. If the ancient Greeks took the Cyclops there, or even a bunch of them, they should be long dead by now.”

  “Do you know how long a Cyclops lives?”

  “No, but I’ll bet it’s not several thousand years.”

  “Which would explain Darren Yates’ use of the word monsters,” Hunt replied. “Think about it. A whole population of these creatures.”

  “They’re breeding.”

  “Bingo.” Hunt glanced back toward the TV, and the episode of Cryptid Quest still on pause there. When he looked back at Decker, his expression was grave. “I don’t know how many of that production crew are still alive, but I need you to locate and extricate the survivors.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “I also want you to figure out what the Egyptians and Greeks were doing in the Amazon, so far from home.”

  “That really isn’t in my wheelhouse. I’m not an archaeologist,” Decker said.

  “Which is why you won’t be going alone. We’ve assembled a small team of specialists to help you. An archaeologist with expertise in ancient civilizations and their mythology, an Egyptologist, and a representative from the production company who will be there in an advisory capacity. We’ve also sent a complement of Ghost Team operatives. Ex-Navy SEALs and Marines with big guns to keep you all safe.”

  “Ghost Team?” Decker had thought the Ghost Team were primarily concerned with transferring dangerous subjects and mopping up after regular operatives like him. Now he realized they did much more. They really were CUSP’s version of a private special force. “This is a military operation, then.”

  “To a degree.”

  “That really isn’t my style,” Decker said.

  “But it is a necessity given the hostile terrain. There are many dangers in the Amazon, beyond the snakes and jaguars. You might run across animal or drug traffickers that operate with impunity and won’t take kindly to strangers on their turf. Not to mention gold smugglers. The soldiers are a precaution. I don’t want to lose anyone down there.”

  “Who’s in charge?” Decker asked.

  “You are.”

  Decker nodded. “One question. Why didn’t the production company have protection? Maybe then they wouldn’t have lost their crew.”

  “They did. A couple of ex-Brazilian Army types. There was a dispute over money, and they quit the evening before the expedition was due to set off into the jungle from base camp. Disappeared in the middle of the night. The show’s producer decided to continue without an armed escort.”

  “They hired mercenaries who tried to jack up their fee then left them to fend for themselves when it didn’t work.”

  “They should have stayed away from the locals. A mistake on their part.”

  “And it might have gotten them killed.”

  “Or they might have ended up with nine people missing instead of seven.”

  “Fair point,” Decker said. “When do I meet this team that you’ve put together?”

  “Most of them are already in Brazil. They went there direct from other assignments. The Ghost Team have set up a temporary base camp in the Amazon. You’ll rendezvous with them before proceeding to the pyramid.”

  “Sure.” Decker had a feeling this was going to be a more complicated assignment than those Hunt had previously sent him on. He wasn’t looking forward to tromping through the Amazon. “You said most of the team were meeting me there.”

  “Right. You won’t be traveling down alone. One of the team was already working another job for us, close at hand. He arrived here last night. You know each other, actually. I’m sure he’ll be pleased to see you.”

  “Is it Colum?” Decker asked.

  “Not this time, although I admit he would be useful. But alas, we have him on an undercover assignment and we can’t spare him.”

  “Who, then?” Decker asked.

  “See for yourself.” Hunt reached toward the phone on his desk.

  He picked up the receiver and spoke three words. Send him in. No sooner had Hunt replaced the receiver than the office door opened, and a figure stepped through.

  Decker turned in his chair, recognizing the diminutive man who stood in the doorway right away. Rory McCormick.

  8

  Hunt motioned for Rory to enter the room and told him to sit down. The archaeologist took a seat next to Decker and glanced over at him, nodding a quick greeting.

  Decker returned the gesture.

  Hunt waited until Rory settled down, and then spoke. “Now that I have you both here, there are a few more things we need to discuss.” He leaned forward with his elbows on the desk and looked between the two men. “Everything that I’m going to tell you from this point on is compartmentalized information. The key members of your team have already been briefed, including the Ghost Team commander. You are the last to be read in on this. No one else within CUSP knows the details of what I’m about to tell you, and it must remain that way.”

  “What about the rest of the Ghost Team unit?” Decker asked.

  “Like I said, only the commander has been read in. His men will do their jobs, but they are not privy to the more sensitive aspects of your assignment.”

  “Understood.”

  “Good. The information I’m about to give you is not to be discussed or shared with anyone outside of your team unless the situation on the ground absolutely warrants it. Do you both understand?”

  Decker nodded. “Loud and clear.”

  “Sure,” Rory said. “What’s with the extra secrecy?”

  “New protocols,” Hunt replied without explaining further, just as he had when Decker asked the same question down in the lobby. He pressed a concealed button under his desk and Decker heard his office door lock engage. Perhaps noting the look of surprise on Decker and Rory’s faces, Hunt waved dismissively toward the door. “My office doubles as a secure briefing room. All very high-tech stuff. Had it put in last month. Once I activate the system, no one can enter or leave, and eavesdroppers cannot overhear us.”

  “Is that why the security guard downstairs took my phone before I was allowed up here?” Rory asked.

  “It is.” Hunt looked at the two men. “Now let’s get down to business. There is much more to your current assignment than just rescuing a lost film crew.”

  “You want us to find what the Greeks and Egyptians were doing in the Amazon,” Decker said. “And if there really is a Cyclops running around.”

  “I want you to do both those things. But your principal objective is finding out what lies within that structure the TV crew found,” Hunt said. “Because it isn’t just an old jungle temple to some long forgotten ancient deity. There’s a power source wit
hin the pyramid. Something is running and we don’t know what.”

  “Come again,” Decker said. “The pyramid has power?”

  “Yes. A considerable amount of power.” Hunt leaned back in his chair. “Several hours ago, while the pair of you were tucked up in your beds sleeping, we co-opted a black ops NSA satellite to scan the region. I won’t bore you with the specifics of what instrumentation is aboard the satellite. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. It’s way above your pay grade. Suffice to say, we got back some very unusual readings. We picked up an energy signature within the structure. We made three passes over the area to confirm our data. The energy signature was not the same on all three flyovers. It fluctuated. But there is no doubt. Something is turned on inside that pyramid, and it’s using a lot of energy.”

  “Can you tell us anything else about it?” Decker asked. “Is it dangerous?”

  “There’s no way to know. But here’s the kicker. The energy signature is similar to the one given off by the transit device you recovered from the sunken U-boat a few months ago.”

  “You’re kidding me.” Decker was stunned. “Are you trying to tell me there’s alien technology running inside an ancient pyramid in Brazil?”

  “I’m telling you no such thing.” Hunt shook his head. “I said the power signature was similar. Not the same. That doesn’t mean it came from an advanced technology, or that its origin is alien. It just makes it unusual. We don’t see those sorts of readings every day.”

  “Understood.”

  “But we do know it shouldn’t be there.”

  “We’ll do our best to figure out what it is,” Decker said.

  “I know you will,” Hunt answered. He cleared his throat. “I’m going to send the coordinates of both base camp and the pyramidal structure to your phones. The data will be encrypted. Only the two of you will have access to it.”

  “More cloak and dagger,” Decker said.

  “It’s necessary. I can assure you of that.” Hunt rubbed his forehead. As if he had a headache. “There’s a jet on standby to fly you to Brazil. A place called Manaus. Since it will be evening when you land, we’ve arranged overnight hotel accommodation. All the details will be sent to your phones. In the morning, you’re to return to the airport where a charter helicopter will be waiting to take you to base camp. Again, we will send the details to your phones.”