“Sounds like you’re not a fan of the guy.” As Holly said that, Jefferson had to suppress a laugh.
“Cutting to the chase? He’s a puppet. Doug Stark has been a quisling searching for a boot to lick for a very long time. With him in control of the Bureau, I fear for America’s safety. Luckily for us, the men that I’ve trained are intelligent and loyal to the MCB’s primary mission. Despite your organization’s feelings about mine, we are first and foremost professionals, and will do what we must to keep this nation safe. Once I found out what was going on, I sent Franks to procure some items that I feel will be necessary to defeat this being. There’s an MCB storage facility here in Nevada—”
“Area 51?” Holly asked excitedly.
“Don’t be absurd.”
“Seriously. It’s Area 51, isn’t it?” But Myers’ deadpan expression didn’t change. “Okay, okay, never mind. Franks’s picking up a secret weapon; go on.”
“I’ve gleaned a small amount of information, but some of what I’ve learned has been conflicting. I want this situation resolved just as quickly as you do. If, in the process, embarrassing facts surface that are damaging to my replacement and his pink-eyed handler, I would be a very happy man.”
“And in the process maybe get your old job back . . . Yeah, I know, you don’t care about that, but we both know the MCB needs strong leadership in these troubling times.” Holly grinned. “You’ve been remarkably forthcoming, Agent Myers. I’m impressed. Now, as for our deal—”
“I’ve already heard your recording. It was downloaded on your phone. I listened to it after my men confiscated it from you. I have no need of a deal.”
“You prick!” Mosh exclaimed. “I should—”
“Chill out, Mosh,” Holly ordered.
“Yes, chill out, Mosh,” Myers said. “Really, I never thought I would say this, but you’re making your brother seem rational and level-headed in comparison.”
Holly seemed completely unperturbed at losing her ace in the hole. “If Myers was just going to screw us over, he wouldn’t bother to brief us with a bunch of sensitive intel first. He’s a busy guy. Am I right, Director?”
“Correct, Ms. Newcastle. There are a few policy disagreements. I am one side of the battle and Stricken is on the other. In this battle, information is power. Stricken has one of the original scientists, and thus, he is keeping that information from me. What I do need is more information, and to achieve that now I need resources with plausible deniability. My loyal men are known. If we are caught attempting to speak to the scientist, then there will be repercussions. Stricken can’t know that we are aware of his plans. However, nobody would be surprised if a member of MHI was caught trying to speak to the good doctor. You have a reputation for being meddlesome.”
“We do work at it.”
“Go with Agent Jefferson. He’ll provide a way in, you get what you need, and in return you report back to my men.”
“You’re on,” Holly answered without hesitation.
But Mosh was still suspicious of the slimy bureaucrat. “Aren’t you worried about us talking if we get caught?”
“Absolutely not. Because if it comes to that, they will more than likely shoot you on sight. Though very capable in their own right, STFU’s greatest weakness is its relatively small number of staff, which is the only way something so shrouded in secrecy can exist. In operations like this, they depend on us or other government agencies to provide security and firepower. In our current situation, Stricken, knowing he’s in a power struggle, won’t endanger his secrets by leaving their protection in the hands of men that may be loyal to me. So he hired some outside contractors on short notice and put them under the supervision of one of his pets seeking a PUFF exemption. They strike me as the shoot first and ask questions later type. If by some miracle you are taken alive, by the time they confirm the information that they torture out of you, I personally will be on the way to Costa Rica to live out my days under a new identity. Thus, I would strongly recommend not being caught.”
Torture? It wouldn’t come to that. Mosh knew that he would gladly blab Myers’ name the second they got caught.
“You know, Myers, I like you a lot better as a subversive terrorist. Super villainy really works for you,” Holly said with forced cheer. “We’re in. Let’s go for it.”
Mosh glanced nervously at the MCB agents. The ones with visible faces looked as nervous as he felt. This whole sinister inter-governmental rivalry thing was way over his head. He despised the MCB for everything they stood for, but Holly seemed to think that they were a whole lot better than the alternative. That was really saying something about the alternative.
The ghost of Mordechai chuckled inside his head. “Boy, these policemen are not your friends. They are liars who hide monsters and threaten poor survivors. They do terrible, misguided things, but they are so much better than the pale one. Him, you avoid. I have seen with my own eyes what happens when his kind becomes in control. Now go. Next part may become . . . difficult. Hurry. Time is short.”
If I live through this, I want you the hell out of my head, old man. No wonder Owen had gotten to be so nuts. This talking to dead people business was a bad trip. “So what’s next?”
Agent Myers slid out from the booth, carefully adjusted his tie, and said, “Try not to get shot.”
CHAPTER 20
Mosh Pitt, former rock superstar, had woken up with a nasty hangover and a bad taste in his mouth, which was a fairly normal state of affairs lately, but after that his day had just gotten progressively worse. His stupid older brother was in danger, the whole city of Las Vegas was being evacuated, he was hearing dead people, and somehow he’d ended up working with the government agency that had used him as a scapegoat. Now he was in a sewer.
“Is not so bad,” Mordechai told him. “This is not actual sewer. Only tunnel. Sewer much worse.”
Sure, there was no river of poop like in the movies, just close concrete walls and a lot of pipes, several of which he’d already managed to hit his head on, but there were still rats. Mosh could hear the rodents, just crawling with fleas and rabies, scurrying to stay ahead of their flashlights.
“You cannot hear rabies, boy.”
“Shut up,” Mosh said, sick and tired of the helpful voices in his head.
Grant Jefferson was in the lead. “What was that?” The MCB agent looked back over his shoulder.
“Nothing. Just talking to myself.”
Jefferson shook his head, muttered something about Newbies, and continued down the narrow passage. As the flashlight moved away, a cold dread began to worm its way back into Mosh’s guts. There was something bad ahead, he could just feel it. He jumped when Holly came up from behind and tapped him on the shoulder. “Relax, Mosh.”
“You relax.”
“Jeez, dude, calm down. I don’t like being in the dark or in enclosed spaces either. Believe me. Nothing to be ashamed of. Hell, me and Grant have both been captives in some pretty nasty underground holes and you don’t see us being jumpy little babies.”
“It’s not that. I’ve got a real bad feeling about this . . .” It was hard to explain. It was more than just the possibility of being shot by the guards. He knew that something bad was waiting for them. “I can just tell. Okay?”
“Like a premonition?”
“What? No. Cut that out already. I’m not my brother. He’s the magic one. It’s only a feeling, but I feel like something is going to try and stop us.”
“That’s like the definition of a premonition. You freaking Pitts. I should have taken Z out gambling with me last night. He could’ve used his psychic powers to predict where that stupid little ball was going to land on the roulette wheel.” Holly put her hands on his back and shoved Mosh along. “I blew through two zombies’ worth of PUFF in less than an hour.”
“It makes me sad that she feels she has to wear a mask,” Mordechai said. Mosh had absolutely no idea what that was supposed to mean.
Mosh followed Jefferson’s flash
light beam. As far as he could tell, the plan made sense. Myers’ MCB agents couldn’t risk tipping their hand by being spotted trying to talk to the scientist, so they were going to cause a distraction and sound the alarm while Holly and Mosh snuck into Stricken’s base of operations.
They reached an intersection. “All right, Holly.” Agent Jefferson aimed his flashlight down the service tunnel. “Here’s where we part ways. You go to the right. We’re now under the Taj, that’s the casino that was next to the Last Dragon. You’ll find the access door to the basement in about two hundred yards. Archer cut the camera wires, picked the lock, and disabled the alarm earlier when we thought we were going to have to do this on our own. Last we knew before the MCB got tossed out, Dr. Blish was one floor up in the main office area.” Jefferson looked at his watch. The hands glowed in the dark. “In approximately ten minutes there will be a massive security breach. That should get the guards’ attention. I wouldn’t expect them to stick around if they think the monster has come through the smoke. They’ll run. They’re only contractors.”
“Watch it, Grant,” Holly warned. “Contractors are bailing your ass out right now.”
“Only kidding.” Jefferson lied smoothly. “Everyone here will think the monster has broken out. From what Myers knows about him, Stricken will go there in person to oversee its takedown. He wants just enough carnage so the president will green-light his pet project, so having everyone in the Last Dragon die is perfect, but he won’t want it to escape into the city because that will make him look bad, since he’s in control.”
“Or if it does escape, then Stricken will just blame it on Stark. Your boss will be the fall guy, and the MCB loses even more authority,” Holly said. “There’s no way that slippery bastard is taking the blame for anything that goes wrong, which is why Myers wants to steal his thunder and stop this monster before Stricken’s little task force can get all the credit.”
“Not bad.” Grant smiled. “You sure you don’t want a federal job? The benefits are great . . . Okay, relax. Stricken knows how to stop this creature, and we’ll be watching to see how he reacts to our false alarm. He’ll more than likely take his actual Unicorn personnel with him, so at least you won’t have to worry about any of those things.”
“Things?” Mosh asked.
“Long story.” Holly’s brief answer didn’t make him feel any better. “How do you plan to rig this breakout, Grant?”
“A car bomb, weird lights, smoke, bangs, a whole bunch of tear gas, throw in some garbled communications. Help me, help me, we’re all going to die sort of thing. Then someone,” Jefferson made quote marks with his fingers, “will direct fire on the parking garage of this casino. By the time the entire Nevada National Guard has emptied a magazine or two into it, Stricken will think the monster is inside.”
“You really think that’s going to work?”
“Trust me. MCB are masters of hoaxes. If too many people are getting curious about a real monster phenomenon, then we make up some evidence to add to the real pile. Then when everyone is looking at that, we arrange for it to be revealed as a clever fake. That makes the real evidence look bad too, and pretty soon everyone forgets about it and moves on with their lives. There’s a certain psychology to this sort of thing . . . It really is rather impressive.”
“This is my not impressed face, Grant.”
“Fine, it only has to work for a minute. Anything else?”
Holly shook her head. “We’ve got it.”
“I’ve got to hurry.” Jefferson got a really awkward look on his face. “Be careful, Holly. I know we’ve got some history with me and MHI, but—”
She held up one hand. “It’s cool. Water under the bridge. You did what you thought you had to do. I can respect that. We’ll see you back at the Pancake Hut. Good luck.” And with that, she turned on her own flashlight and turned down the appropriate tunnel. Jefferson watched her for a moment, as if trying to decide to say anything else, then hurried in the opposite direction.
Mosh only banged his head on pipes twice more while trying to catch up to her. Holly was waiting for him next to a big green door. She kicked at a passing rat with her stolen shoes. “You think this is going to work?” Mosh asked.
Holly was inspecting the door, confirming that Agent Archer had already tampered with it. “I think we’re another part of the distraction. I think Myers’ real plan all along was to see what kind of weapons or tactics Stricken uses to respond to this fake attack so he can copy them. That’s his real goal. Our showing up was just gravy. Myers probably thinks that we’ll get caught, and when we do, by then Stricken knows the other attack was a ruse, MHI will get the blame.”
“But that means . . .” Mosh was flabbergasted. “What about the whole running to Costa Rica thing?”
She snorted. “Puh-leese. Don’t tell me you bought that noble for God and country duty-and-honor shtick. If anybody should know how good that professional liar is, it’s you. We get caught and tattle on Myers, he denies that he ever talked to us, and anything we say is just a lame attempt to get out of trouble. We end up in a shallow ditch in the desert, Stricken maybe has a few nagging doubts about some of his coworkers, but then he and Myers go back to their chess game of which bureaucrat has more clout again tomorrow. If we actually pull this off, then it’s just a happy bonus for Myers.”
“But you were like all friendly . . . You even said that you and Jefferson were cool—”
“That backstabbing son of a bitch? Of course not. The thing about Grant is that he really does think he’s doing the right thing. In his mind, he’s the hero. He’s got his own set of morals. Problem is, whatever he decides to do is automatically right. Anybody who gets in the way gets tossed under the bus.” Holly tried the door handle. As promised, it was unlocked. “Grant’s a real piece of work. Why do the really good-looking ones always have so much baggage?”
“I’m considered good-looking. I was in the top twenty of People Magazine’s Sexiest Man Alive once.” It had been a couple of years ago, right after Hold the Pig Steady had hit number one, but it still counted.
“That’s because girls will always love musicians, but like I said, baggage.” She shut her flashlight off, then slowly opened the door a crack to peek inside. The lights were on, revealing a metal stairwell. “Coast is clear. Now we wait for Grant and Archer to do their thing.”
The tunnel was humid and hummed with the noise of distant equipment. Occasional suspicious hissing noises didn’t do much to alleviate Mosh’s nervousness. “What do you mean ‘baggage’?” he whispered.
“Never mind.”
“No, really.”
Holly sighed. “I swear I always have to be the one that tells the truth, even when it sucks.” She kept looking through the crack. “Well, from what I hear, and your general state, the way I see it, you’re still wallowing in self-pity about what happened to you. You’re bitter, pissed-off, and won’t accomplish shit until you move on. You’ll either accept what happened, or let it eat at you until you die.”
Mosh wasn’t used to people being so blunt. Which was one of the main reasons he avoided his family. “You don’t know me, Holly.”
“Shhh. Keep it down,” she snapped. Mosh hadn’t realized he’d raised the volume. “Voices carry down here. I may not know you well, but I know a lot of people like you. I volunteer at an insane asylum full of them. Specifically, I know what happened to you with the Condition. Yes, it sucked. Yes, it ruined all your plans. You got screwed over. So what? At least you’re still alive. You’re a survivor. Every single minute you have after that is a gift, but you’ve forgotten that.”
That stung. “You don’t understand how bad—”
Holly turned around. They were cloaked in shadow, but he could still tell that she was giving him an angry glare. Her voice was hard. “You want to compare notes about how hard life has been? I’ll win. I’ll win handily, and that was before I had to kill my best friend with a bone I sharpened on a rock. So shut the fuck up and listen.
I’m telling you things that your brother should have said to you a long time ago. Evil can kill you, break your body, and sometimes it can even break your mind, but only you can break your spirit. You know what I see at Appleton? That’s the insane asylum for monster attack survivors. I see people where their sanity just shattered, and I see quitters. I feel sorry for the first bunch, and the second group just pisses me off. So quit pissing me off.”
“I’m not a quitter,” Mosh protested. “I lost my fingers. I was the best and they took that from me. I lost all my money—”
“Did you lose your life?”
Mosh paused. “No . . .”
“Then quit your crying and shut up.” Holly checked her watch. “It’s time to go. We’ll continue this therapy session later.”
“So you’re my therapist now?”
“Apparently, I’m a life coach for idiots.” Holly opened the door. She shined her flashlight up the stairs. When she didn’t see anything, she climbed the stairs quickly and quietly to the next door. When she tested the handle, it was also unlocked. “Archer, you are the man . . .” Her voice was barely a whisper. “Follow my lead.” She reached under her jacket and pulled out her pistol. It was a 1911 of some kind, like the sort of old-fashioned pistol that his father preferred.
“But the guards are just people. They’re Hunters like you, just from a different company. You can’t just shoot them!”
“Sure I can. Point and click.” Holly glanced down at the pistol. “Okay, fine. I don’t want to and I’ll try not to, but if I have to choose between saving my friends’ lives or their lives?” She shrugged. “Easy call.”
Mosh had done a lot of stupid things in his life, but murder wasn’t one of them. “Promise me you won’t kill anybody.”
“Seriously? Okay, fine. I promise I won’t kill anybody unless I really need to. You think I like this fly by the seat of the pants stuff? I’d love to have time to come up with a plan that doesn’t end with shooting them, but we don’t have time.”