Genoskwa 5 blood mountai.., p.5
Genoskwa 5 : Blood Mountain, page 5
“It can wait.” Archer held a hand up as he attempted to sidestep her.
“Bigfoot sightings near Whitehall have shot through the roof,” she stated as though she had more information to share.
“I’m sure they’ll die down soon enough,” he called to her as he made his way stiffly toward his car.
“I have a source who’s telling me what the military has in mind to keep the Genoskwa from being able to use those tunnels that connect the two mountain ranges.”
“Great. Type it up into a memo and email me. I’ll look at it as soon as I come back to the office.”
“I think you’ll want to hear this.”
Archer stopped walking and hung his head. “I’m so tired right now that the only thing I want to hear is the sound of my head hitting my pillow.” He turned slowly to face her. “Can this wait?”
She shook her head and handed him a folder. “Not if you still believe that they’re worth saving.”
Archer raised a brow as he accepted the folder. He slowly opened it and held the pages at arm’s length, trying to force his eyes to focus. “Patricia, I’m working on diluted caffeine here. I can’t read this.”
She huffed as she pulled the folder back and pulled him under one of the dim lights inside the parking garage. “How up to date are you on the whole Gaza strip thing?”
He sighed heavily and leaned on the elevator door. “I’m the director of an FBI field office. I’d say I have a pretty keen grip on—”
“Then you’re familiar with these?” She plucked a page out of the folder and handed it to him.
Archer scanned the sheet and slowly nodded. “Yeah, I heard of ‘em, but I don’t think they have ever been used.”
“Part of the last munitions deal included them sending us pallets of these sponge bombs to test and study.” She raised a brow at him. “Supposedly to seal off the drug tunnels under the border.”
Archer handed her the paper back. “You think it’s for something else?”
“I’m being told that they shipped some of the pallets here to New York. To a certain National Guard base.” She gave him an expectant look.
Archer shrugged. “Okay, so they seal the tunnels. I’m not seeing the issue here.”
“Dammit, Dale,” she slapped at his arm. “They’re not going to bother to ensure those tunnels are empty first. Any Genoskwa that are inside will be sealed in there forever. They’ll either starve to death or suffocate.”
Dale sighed and wiped a heavy hand over his face. “I’m still not…” he trailed off, pushing himself off the wall. “So?”
“So?!” Her voice shot up an octave. “So? That’s all you can say is so? How many families will be killed? Females and the little ones?”
Dale offered a slow shrug. “So maybe they shouldn’t have been in there in the first place.”
Her eyes bugged as she glared at him. “These woods…these lands, were theirs first. We’re the invaders here.”
Dale sighed again and crossed his arms. “I know a few dozen native tribes that might argue with you on that point.”
“Dammit Dale!” She stomped her foot. “Where’s the spunk and spirit I saw when you were facing down the whole damned National Guard with nothing but a nine millimeter and your dick in your hand?”
Dale shot her a surprised look. “My what?”
She groaned as she turned and leaned on the wall. “It was…just something that Johnny used to say. It just means that you had zero resources except what you bring to the table.”
“I know what it means, I just didn’t expect…” he trailed off and rubbed at his eyes. “What exactly would you like me to do about any of this?”
“Doesn’t it eat at you?” She turned and locked eyes with him. “What they’re about to do?”
“I’m pretty sure it’s all out of my hands. The governor struck a deal with Latham to turn over the mountain to the Guard. It’s their scene now and they’ve rolled in with overwhelming numbers. They have attack choppers keeping the sasquatch at bay so the men can work.” He shook his head as he spoke. “The best I could hope to do is appeal to Colonel Mayfield and beg him not to kill off the creatures that are in those mines and tunnels.”
She let her feet slip on the concrete and slid to the floor, pulling her knees up to her chest. “Like he’d even listen.”
Dale hunkered down next to her and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Patricia. I have a sneaking suspicion that whoever ordered those tunnels sealed is orders of magnitude over Mayfield.”
He offered a lopsided smile. “You know how strong those things are. They’ll tear through that foam like it’s nothing.”
She looked up at him and rolled her eyes. “You can’t cut it. You can’t drill through it. You can’t shoot through it.” She turned and stared off across the parking garage. “It won’t even burn. That stuff is made to be explosive proof. Do you really think that a bigfoot will be able to dig through it?”
Dale’s face twisted. “Wait…what?”
“What what?” She turned to him again. “I don’t—”
“What do you mean it’s explosive proof? I thought it was just expanding foam like you squirt into doorjambs.”
She scoffed and shook her head. “Not even. Sponge bombs are built off the same principle, but that foam hardens quick and it’s stronger than concrete.”
Dale took a half step back. “You’re sure of this?”
She nodded and lowered her head. “If anybody gets caught in it, it’s certain and nearly instant death.”
Dale stiffened and found his hand stretching out to hit the elevator button. “Come on.”
She looked up at him again and narrowed her gaze. “Where to?”
“We have some phone calls to make.”
Dale held the receiver in the air fighting the urge to slam it onto the base.
“Let me guess.”
He looked at her and nodded as he set the phone gently in the cradle. “Can neither confirm nor deny.” He stretched his neck and reached for the coffee cup on the corner of his desk. “I’m telling you, I hate the bureaucratic red tape that comes attached to anything to do with the federal government.”
Patricia snorted a chuckle. “Coming from a Bureau guy, that’s rich.”
He took a long swallow of the bitter brew and winced. “I know, right? I mean, I live with the crap on the daily, but this is ridiculous.” He nearly jumped when his phone rang, and he snatched the phone from the base. “Archer.”
“Oy, mate. You’re not gonna believe this,” Al started.
“Let me guess, they’re impounding your aerial weapons system until further notice.”
Al actually laughed into the phone. “Hardly. They’ve got it loaded on a flatbed and it’s already enroute to my warehouse. Can you believe it?”
Archer’s face fell. “Wait, they’ve already released the craft to you, and I can’t get a straight answer from…” He sighed to himself. “Never mind.”
“Wait, what? What are you going on about?”
Archer took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “Patricia has a lead on some disturbing information, and I can’t get anybody with the guard or active duty military to verify any of it.”
“What kind of information?”
He covered the receiver and nodded to Patricia. “It’s Al. Is it okay to read him in?”
She waved him on hurriedly. “Of course.”
“She has a source that claims the IDF provided us with a few pallets of sponge bombs. Are you familiar?”
“Am I? That’s some nasty stuff. I heard some of their people went blind from the chemicals in it.” Al lowered his voice and the sound of something scraping over his cell phone rattled the speaker. “In fact, I’ve heard from some of my special forces friends here that more than a few IDF lost their lives to that stuff.”
“You don’t say.” Dale leaned back, trying to think how he could use this information to his advantage.
“Oh yeah. Apparently you have to be some distance from the detonation and if you’re not, tiny particles of the chemicals can enter your nasal cavities and you suffocate where you stand.”
“Are you serious?”
“That’s what I’m told. Look, I can’t verify any of it. It’s second or even third hand info, but that’s the rumors.”
Dale sighed and wiped a heavy hand over his face. “And there’s no way to counter this stuff?”
“Not that I know of. I mean, I can make a few calls and see if the boys at Team Four know of anything that will dissolve it, but from what little I know, that stuff sets up harder than stone. They say you can’t even drill through it.”
“Yeah, that’s what Patricia told me.” Dale hung his head and squeezed his eyes shut. “Do me a solid. Check with your contacts and see if any of them can just verify that the IDF sent some of that crap state side, will ya?”
“Of course…” Al trailed off. “Wait, are they planning to use a sponge bomb on the Genoskwa?”
Dale opened his mouth to reply then sighed. “That’s the rumor. They want to seal off the mines and tunnels on both sides of the mountain ranges.”
“Keep them from coming into the Catskills?”
Dale shrugged to himself. “Isolate them on either side.” He locked eyes with Patricia. “And if any get stuck in the middle, oh well. Good riddance.”
Al whistled low. “I mean, that big bastard that ripped out Red’s throat, I wouldn’t cry if he got stuck in the crap, but…what of the others?”
“Exactly.” Dale took a deep breath. “Find out what you can through whatever back channels you have and get back to me, okay?”
“You got it. And tell our favorite reporter I said hey.”
Archer hung up the phone and slowly came to his feet. “The wheels are in motion. Al’s going to do some digging with his military contacts and get back to us.” He planted his hands on his desk and stared at her through bleary eyes. “The caffeine is failing me. I have to get some downtime.”
She offered a soft smile as she came to her feet. “Keep me in the loop, yeah?”
“Of course. There wouldn’t be a loop if you hadn’t told us what was going on.”
She reached for the door and pulled it open. “Do you think we can stop them from using it?”
Dale shrugged. “Hector went public and rallied the populace to his cause.” He raised a brow at her. “Maybe an expose on how nasty this stuff is and the fact that they intend to use it…” he trailed off again. “If nothing else, the environmental folks will raise three levels of hell.”
She nodded forlornly and slipped out of his office. Dale reached for the light switch and locked his door before making his way back to the garage complex. He stood at the door of his car and stared at his reflection in the window. For a brief moment he saw his father’s eyes staring back at him.
“What else can go wrong?” he murmured to himself.
Cairo, New York
Bret shut the door softly and saw both Jimmy and Trick sitting at the card table, their tired faces staring blankly at opposite walls. “How’s your moms taking it?” he asked quietly as he pulled another chair out.
He turned dark and sunken eyes at them. “My mom climbed into a bottle.” He shrugged slightly. “She’s been dry for almost six years.” He turned again and stared at the wall. “She keeps muttering ‘Merry fuckin’ Christmas’ under her breath.”
“I’m sorry, man,” Trick said as he planted a hand on his shoulder. His voice cracked when he first spoke, and he cleared his throat nervously. “My mom is all over the place. She’ll go from ranting about her car to screaming about getting dad’s body back to bury him to crying, then back to bitching about the car.” He glanced at the other two then looked away. “I know what she really wants to do is blame me.”
“Same,” Jimmy whispered.
Bret nodded in agreement. “I’m so sorry, guys.” He looked up at them both and had to sniff back tears. “My mom sits in the dark and chain smokes, drinking like a fish and staring through the drapes like she’s waiting for dad to just walk up to the door.” He lowered his head and sighed. “I actually heard her tell my uncle Lance, ‘at least she wouldn’t have to pay for a funeral since they couldn’t get dad’s body back.’”
“No way, dude,” Trick practically whispered.
Bret nodded. “She’s always been about the money.” He sighed and braced his chin on his hand. “When I asked to play little league, remember she bought that worn out glove at the thrift store?”
Jimmy nodded. “She said it was already broke in and soft.”
“It was to save a buck,” Bret replied. “My cleats? They were from the thrift store, too.” He looked away and had a tight-lipped smile. “It was dad that taped them off and painted the black back so they looked newer.”
“One thing’s for certain,” Trick stated softly. “Things will never be the same for any of us again.”
Bret nodded in agreement then pushed up from his chair. “I’m gathering supplies to go back.” He refused to look at the other two boys.
“Wait, what?” Jimmy asked, coming to his feet. “You weren’t serious before about—”
“Of course I was serious,” Bret cut him off. He turned slowly and locked eyes with him. “I’m not asking either of you to come with me, but I am going back.”
“To shoot one?” Trick asked, already knowing the answer.
Bret nodded. “My neighbor hunts. Sometimes ducks but mostly deer. I know he’s got a couple of rifles and a shotgun.”
“Dude, there’s no way he’s going to loan us those guns.” Jimmy glanced between the two of them. “I’m pretty sure he could go to jail if he did, right, Trick?”
“Who said anything about asking?” Bret replied. “Better to beg forgiveness than permission.”
“Dude…” Trick stood, shaking his head. “Stealing guns and going back out there? You gotta be nuts.”
“It’s just borrowing if I plan to give them back.” Bret took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Like I said, I’m not asking either of you to go with me.”
Jimmy looked at Trick then back at Bret. “Dude, you gotta have somebody to watch your back.”
Trick stepped closer and lowered his voice. “If anybody finds out, they’ll lock us all up and throw away the key.”
Bret shrugged. “I’m prepared to accept whatever they throw at us once we’re back. But I’m not coming back until I’ve killed one of those fucking things. So help me, I will have vengeance.”
Jimmy swallowed hard then turned to Trick. “What’s the word? Are you going with him?”
Trick stared at Bret and slowly nodded. “Yeah.” He took a deep breath then turned back to Jimmy. “You?”
Jimmy found his head was nodding even though everything inside him was screaming to say no. “I can’t let you guys go back out there alone.”
Trick pointed a finger at him. “No more edibles, bro. I’m fucking serious.”
Jimmy shot him a dirty look. “That mega chocolate saved our asses out there, remember?”
“He meant, you ain’t getting high this time,” Bret stated flatly. “If you go back out there, you gotta have your head on straight.”
Jimmy squared his shoulders. “Deal.” He felt his hands begin to shake. “Now…how do we get those guns?”
7
Edge of the Catskills
Commander Gerald Gustavsen squinted in the setting sunlight as truck after truck rolled by, slowing just enough to pull onto the highway and convoy away. He saw the lanky lieutenant approaching and stepped toward him. “LT, what’s the word?”
Lieutenant Patton gripped the top of his plate carrier and sighed. “Colonel Mayfield really thought we had the manpower to clear everything in one take, but…” he shook his head as he watched the trucks rumble by. “We’ll be back at it in the morning.”
One of the helicopters swept past the highway entrance low enough for the men to turn their heads and grip their hats. “If you need us to stay out here and provide access security, I’ll have to radio in for reinforcements. Some of my men are going on three days now.”
Patton held a hand up, stopping him. “According to the colonel, anything of value has been removed. There’s some clean up left, but he called in the Navy to help with what’s left.”
Gus shot him a surprised look. “Navy?”
“Seabee unit.” Patton shrugged. “Something about environmental…something. They’re supposed to come in and do some dirt work, I dunno. Fancy landscaping? Your guess is as good as mine.”
Gus groaned. “What about us? Do you still need security?”
“Nope. Colonel said to stand down your men and to thank you heartily for keeping the access cleared.” He offered a weak smile. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry you got tagged for this.”
Gus chuckled low in his throat. “It was easy enough.” He began marching towards the APC then turned back. “And tomorrow when the Seabees show up?”
Patton shook his head. “We’ll cover it. As far as we’re concerned, your assistance here is no longer needed.” He held his hand out and Gus took it.
“I would say call us again if you ever need us, but…” He smiled broadly.
“Understood, Commander.” Lt Patton offered a slight tip of his helmet. “Safe drive home, sir.”
Gus turned and made a circle with his arm. “Wrap it up, ladies. We’re headed home.” His men took on a relaxed stance, and each began to check their gear inventory.
He watched Patton climb into an armored Humvee then pulled his cell phone. He sat at the back of the APC and waited with the phone pressed to his ear.
“Archer.”
“Director, we’ve been ordered to stand down out here.”
Archer fought a yawn as he spoke. “They really got everything out in one day?”
Gus shrugged. “According to my contact, the only thing left is a little cleanup then some kind of environmental impact or something. They’re calling in a Seabee unit.”
Archer huffed. “Well, I’ll be damned. I never would have thought…” He trailed off. “Are they asking you to stay and provide security, or…?”
