Specters: A Monster Squad Novel - 8

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Authors: Heath Stallcup

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BOOK: Specters: A Monster Squad Novel - 8
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Specters

A Monster Squad Novel

 

Heath Stallcup

 

 

MS8 Specters; A Monster Squad Novel

©2015 Heath Stallcup

 

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living, dead, or otherwise, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

 

This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or unauthorized use of the material or artwork contained herein is prohibited without the express written permission of the author.

 

Printed in the U.S.A.

 

ISBN:
9781310122293

 

 

 

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

 

 

There are so many people that I’ve thanked and tried to recognize since starting this path. The hardest part is getting them all. People like Mark and Tracy, John, Shawn, Armand, Joe…people who I’ve looked up to and admired for so long who became friends along the way. I’ve tried to thank them but words simply can’t do justice to what I owe them.

There are also those who go above and beyond…Jess, Linda, Sheila, Vix, Steve…so many others who step up and keep me honest. Most of all, the readers. None of this is possible without you. So pat yourself on the back, take a bow and give yourself a big round of applause. Go ahead, you deserve it.

-Heath

 

 

 

DEDICATION

 

To all of those who think that Halloween is the best holiday out there and that it should be a ‘real’ holiday…where school is let out and people are let off work. That it should be celebrated as a weeklong event. You know who you are…Holly.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Specters

 

A Monster Squad Novel

by

Heath Stallcup

 

 

1

 

 

 

Mick fought the urge to scream and then his eyes fell on the shackles around his ankles. He almost began laughing as he stared at them. He slipped his shoes off and allowed his body to begin shifting. He watched as his feet elongated and narrowed. The shackles slipped and fell from his legs, clattering onto the floor of the helicopter. He quickly shifted back to human form and slipped his shoes back on. He slid forward and watched the two pilots as they controlled the rotary wing craft.

He wrapped one clawed hand around the throat of the pilot on the right and gripped tightly. “Turn us around! Now!”

“I can’t. We have orders.” The man struggled against his grip, and Mick ripped a jagged hole in his throat.

He quickly jumped forward and caught the other pilot’s hand before he could bring the pistol to bear. “Naughty, naughty, mate. Your chum here didn’t want to play nice. How about you?” He twisted the pistol from the other pilot’s grip and pressed it to the man’s temple. “Let’s turn the craft around nice and gentle.”

The pilot sneered at him. “Go ahead and kill me. Who would fly this thing?”

Mick smiled back. “I’m a pilot, mate. I only have about thirty hours in a rotary, but I think I could pull it off.” He pulled the hammer back on the pistol and pressed the 9MM Beretta to the side of the man’s head again. “Your choice.”

The pilot cursed and began turning the craft around. “Good choice, mate.” Mick dragged the other pilot to the rear of the craft and dumped him over the shackles. Taking his position in the front seat, he pulled on the headphones. “Let’s be sure and land this thing far enough away from the hangar that they won’t know we’re back.”

“And then you kill me, right?”

Mick gave him a sideways stare. “Nobody else has to die tonight, mate. Your buddy there? Well, I had to make my point. I knew that saying please wasn’t going to work.”

 

*****

 

Jack flipped the switch on the detonator and the warehouse was nearly leveled by the concussive blow of the C4 exploding in two different directions. The directed blasts had no place else to go but up, destroying much of the ceiling above what was once the office. Each of Jack’s crew took shelter behind the heavy concrete columns.

As the shock wave passed, they stepped out and wielded their angelic weapons. They watched in silent fascination as hundreds of demons departed their broken human shells, yellow beams of light shooting upward and into the night sky.

Thorn and Viktor pushed past the debris of the office and began to dig for the remains of the demon queen. She had to be dismembered before she could revive herself.

Samael picked himself from the broken machinery he had been blown into and shook his mighty head, trying to regain his bearings. “What happened?” He glanced around what was once their safe haven. His eyes fell upon where he knew Lilith was and they shot wide with fear.

“Lilith!” He clambered and fought to free himself from the twisted metal just as the Nephilim appeared before him.

“Demon spawn,” the Guardian sneered as he lifted his mighty hammer.

“A Nephilim?” Samael’s eyes widened and he lifted his arm to block the crushing blow just as Phil brought the great hammer down. The hammer glanced across Samael’s arm and smashed into the metal remains of the machinery.

“I am the son of Rafael, you Fallen abomination!” Phil swung the sword, intending to decapitate the Fallen angel, but Samael fell back into the twisted metal and lifted his free foot. He caught the Nephilim in the midsection and kicked him back and away. Samael pulled himself free and jumped from the metal, his hand pulling up a twisted beam to use as a weapon.

Phil swung both the hammer and the sword as he came back to finish the angel. Samael ducked, blocked and dove, knowing that without an angelic weapon of his own, he had little chance of defending himself from the Halfling for long. He leapt back and took to the sky, his great leathery wings beating rapidly, scooping large pockets of air and lifting him higher. “It will take more than you to defeat me, Nephilim.”

A spine-shattering blow knocked the wind from Samael and sent him spiraling to the concrete floor below. He rolled to his side and saw the light-skinned gargoyle flying above him, an angelic sword and shield in his hands. Samael groaned as he rolled to his hands and knees and he felt the blood roll down his back and sides, splattering upon the broken concrete below. He lifted his mighty head and saw the Nephilim charging, hammer and sword pumping as he ran across the once grand warehouse.

Samael reached out and grabbed the broken body of one of his demons and hurled it at the Nephilim. He then leapt to the side and, with a mighty jump, landed in the middle of the wreckage of the office. Both Viktor and Thorn fell back with surprise as the Fallen one landed amidst the rubble.

“She is
mine
!” he growled at the pair as he thrust both hands into the rubble and scooped her broken body from the ruins.

Kalen and Brooke paused in their battles with the demons that survived the blast and watched as the bloody demon creature jumped into the air and with a mighty push of his wings, shot through a broken skylight and into the night air.

Jack looked to Azrael and pointed upward. “Stop him!”

The gargoyle clenched his jaw and made for the skylight himself. He tucked his wings and lowered his weapons to shoot through the jagged opening.

Kalen turned his attention back to the demons. “Kill them all!” He raised his bow and watched as each demon suddenly fell to the ground, a yellow beam of light shooting from the host’s body as the demon escaped into the night.

Thorn turned a slow circle staring at the destruction. “
Sacre bleu
, we almost had them.”

Viktor placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “We live to fight another day.”

Thorn shrugged his hand away. “Do we? We will never have another chance such as this.” He kicked at a piece of the rubble and stormed from the remains of the office.

Jack motioned for his people to converge on him. “There’s still a chance that Azrael will catch them.”

Phil shook his head. “He cannot stop the Fallen abomination.” He hung his head. “Even with the weapons he has, he does not have the power to stop him.”

“He put a hurt on him,” Jack added. “If it can bleed, it can die.”

“True. But it can also heal.”

 

*****

 

Laura squirmed as her father stared at her. “Spill it, Punkin. I want to know everything.”

“I think I pretty much told you everything.” She picked at her fingernails as she chewed at her lower lip.

“I don’t think you did. You mentioned that monsters were real. You said that you were dating a vampire. But you said nothing about the men you’re working with actually being infected with this stuff like I am.”

“Well, how else did you think I’d know it was safe?” She shrugged as if he should have simply connected the dots.

Jim inhaled deeply and sighed. “Tell me, how many are there?”

“Enough to do the job. Dad, I’m not really supposed to talk about it.”

“Just like I’m sure you aren’t supposed to smuggle that stuff out and shoot me up with it, yet, here we are.” He narrowed his stare and watched her squirm.

“Daddy, really…it’s classified, and I could get into a lot of trouble for just mentioning them.”

Jim nodded. “Fine, I can understand that, I suppose.” He pursed his lips as a multitude of thoughts ran through his mind. “Can you at least tell me
why
they volunteered for this?”

She nodded. “To better fight the real monsters out there. So that they could keep up.”

“In order to fight the monsters, they had to
become
a monster? Fight fire with fire.”

“In a manner of speaking.”

“And that’s why you were so…adamant about me knowing the rules you expect me to live by? Because if I don’t live by those rules…”

She nodded, tears starting to form in her eyes. “Then they would definitely come and hunt you down.”

“And then somebody would put two and two together and realize what you did.”

She shook her head and finally met his gaze, her tears falling freely. “I don’t care if they find out. Hell, I’ll probably end up spilling my guts as soon as I get back anyway. I just don’t want anything to happen to you. If it did it would be…” Her voice cracked and she trailed off, burying her face.

“What?”

She lifted her face and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “It would be
my
fault. They would hunt you down and they would kill you and it would be my fault. Don’t you see?”

Jim shook his head. “No, Punk, I don’t. It isn’t your fault if I do something I shouldn’t. It’s called personal responsibility.” He pulled her tight and squeezed her. “I know I taught you better than that.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy. I should have told you everything.” She sniffed as he stroked her arm.

“You told me enough, Punk.” Jim stared off into nothingness.

“What’s wrong, Daddy?” Laura pulled back slightly and stared at him. “I know when you’re not telling me something.”

Jim inhaled sharply and let the breath out slowly. He leaned over and picked up something that she couldn’t quite make out. He lifted it in the low light and held it out to her. She wrapped her hand around it and recognition hit her like a truck. It was the vial that held the wolf virus she had infected him with. It was empty.

She pulled back and stared at him with shock. “Daddy? What did you do with the rest of it?”

 

*****

 

“You got a death wish I don’t know about?”

Spalding chuckled. “Buddy, that sounds like simunition to me. They aren’t putting any holes in that plywood.”

Sullivan’s brows knitted and he took a quick glance. “Good eye, boss. I’ve been listening to them run drills all this time and wishing they’d run out.” He checked the safety on his rifle and nodded. “Let’s do this.”

Spalding keyed his coms, “We’re heading for the mockup. Advance and engage. Delta Three and Four, you have the bingo.”

The pair scooted across the stack of crates and came to the rear of the mockup. Spalding glanced down the length of the warehouse and could just make out Delta Two and Delta Five making their way down the length of the structure. Sullivan pushed through the flimsy back door and brought his rifle to his shoulder. Spalding slipped in behind him and followed suit.

The pair worked their way from the back to the front, taking turns spitting suppressed rounds through their rifles, watching as wolves reacted violently to the silver jacketed rounds. As they worked their way closer to the front, they waited for the next wave to enter. “Anybody got eyes on the mockup?”

“You may come out now. We have your people,” a heavily accented voice spoke directly in his ear.

Spalding froze and glanced at Little John who visibly stiffened. John tightened his grip on his rifle and took a half step forward, but Spalding reached out and grabbed the man by his massive bicep. “Don’t.” Little John glanced back the way they had come and Spalding shook his head. He keyed his coms. “To whom am I speaking?”

“Chief Warrant Officer Martinez. We have your people. You may come out now or they will die.” Spalding slowly lowered his rifle and sighed.

“You ain’t giving up, are you?”

“The only way he can come across our coms is if he has one of our guys.” He looked up at the low ceiling and shook his head. “And they probably have a signal blocker in place or Major Tufo would be screaming in our ears right now.”

“You have five seconds.”

Spalding keyed his coms. “Okay. We’re coming out.”

John grabbed his arm and shook his head. “We don’t surrender.”

“We’re blind in here, and they have our people. As long as we’re breathing, we have a fighting chance.”

Spalding stepped to the front of the mockup and pushed open the door. He was greeted with multiple rifle barrels in the face.

 

*****

 

Director Jameson waited for Ingram to pick up the phone. He wasn’t surprised that the man’s voice wasn’t groggy when he answered. “What is it?”

“You were right. I’m watching a video of someone rifling through my office now.”

“Is it him?”

Jameson sighed into the phone. “I can’t be certain. I want to say yes.” He paused the video and stared at the low-light image. Whoever it was had a penlight in their mouth that cast them into silhouette. Even when they got on his computer, the screen blocked his face from view. “I just can’t tell.”

“I would say it’s safe to assume it’s him.”

“As would I. The question is, what are his intentions?”

“Only he can tell you that.” Ingram shifted the phone and he jotted a few notes. “Do you want me to send a team to pick him up?”

Jameson considered it for a moment. “No. Let me handle him. If he has the balls to break into my office then I may have misjudged him.” He leaned back and stared at the assuredness of the man in his office. “He may well be the man for the job.”

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