Deena Riordan: Indelible Ink Part 7

19.

Garrett stood as still as he could make himself and glared at Rivers and Rice. "Seriously? That's the story you're sticking to? You're interested in this girl mainly because her sister is a witch? Like a real, pointy-hat-wearing, black-cat-having, broom-riding witch?" Garrett was already regretting letting Pel talk him into meeting with the mysterious agents again. They'd called Rivers and Rice the next morning, followed their directions and eventually ended up waiting in a walkway that crossed over Eastern Avenue to the mall. Eventually, Rice showed up and led them to an SUV driven by Rivers. When everyone was in, the vehicle took off. It was all too cloak and dagger for Garrett's tastes, but he let it go, hoping things would make more sense soon. No such luck. "Are you s.h.i.+tting me?"

"You weren't really listening were you? We don't think she's a witch, we just think she has an unusual power." Rivers held up a tablet, which Pel quickly took and started tinkering with.

"I'm no scientist but it looks like your only conclusion to these crimes involves magic. Locked doors, heavily guarded cells, armored cars. All of these things seem foolproof but people still got killed, money stolen, whatever," Pel said.

"No, that's not our conclusion. Those stats are from various police departments and agencies around the country. They list the crimes as unsolved and/or open," Rice said. "We know exactly what happened."

"Rogue tooth fairy?" Garrett asked.

Pel laughed.

The conversation went nowhere, until they pulled into an old parking garage on the west side. It was crumbling, with graffiti on the walls and a number of cars in disrepair on the first floor. As they drove around in a circle that led them to the next floor down, there were more dark SUVs, unmarked cars and plain white vans.

"Follow me," Rivers stepped out when the vehicle came to a halt and motioned everyone to the nearby elevator. Pel and Garrett fell in behind with Rice in the very back. As soon as Rivers stepped in front of the elevator, the doors opened and they entered. The doors closed and the elevator started descending on its own, no b.u.t.tons pushed.

"This is getting a little too 'Mission Impossible' for me," Garrett said. "What in the h.e.l.l is going on?" He said it more to himself, rather than as a question to the agents who'd brought them there. Truth be told, he was now more intrigued than annoyed. The secret underground base put him over the top. The FBI, as a rule, was pretty mundane. There was an office, or field office, desks, security guards and so on. There was nothing cool about it. Nothing intriguing or mysterious. Agents showed up. They did their jobs. Kind of ho hum. Whatever happened with Rivers and Rice, at least it wasn't boring.

The elevator stopped abruptly a few seconds later and the doors slid open again. A small, bare room awaited them with just a single uniformed guard with an a.s.sault rifle. The man nodded to Rivers and a new door opened onto a long, narrow, hall. After another door, they all stepped out onto an elevated metal walkway that went all around a huge circular room. Below, in the middle, was an expanse full of desks, computer monitors, and uniformed personnel.

"This way," Rivers said and opened a door by sliding a badge across a lighted panel. In the next room, Garrett saw several men standing around a table in lab coats and goggles. Along the walls, more men sat at computers and microscopes, none looked up. Garrett noticed a bank of monitors on the far wall. Two had maps; another had what seemed to be a close up of a drop of oil.

"What's going on here? Seriously, it's just one thing after another with you guys. If you've got something that will help us understand what's going on, great. If you don't, we'll just take our tape that you snaked and be on our way." Garrett said.

Rice ignored the question. "See the map on the right? The red dots represent crimes that we're pretty sure one of these subjects is responsible for."

Garrett looked up and squinted. He guessed there were close to one hundred of them. "So it's not just this girl you think we're dealing with." He found himself biting on the premise that this girl was a killer, but not that she was supernatural.

Rivers pointed to the other map. It had far fewer dots on it. "We believe these nineteen are all the work of this one girl. We can't be sure but they seem to fit the pattern and we have some inside information on things this girl has been a.s.signed to do."

"If you have someone on the inside, why not drop the hammer and arrest the girl, why all the cloak and dagger X-Files bulls.h.i.+t?" Pel sounded just as confused as Garrett felt.

"We're working on it. We've only just established the informant. We can't spook him." Rice absently added to the conversation while he scanned the map.

"And this informant tells you the girl is a magical fairy?" Every time he started to feel comfortable with the agents, the same nagging concerns came back to Garrett; he had no idea who these guys were and they had some fairly messed up ideas. "I think your informant is already spooked. Spooked in the head."

"No. The girl has some of the same traits as others we've come into contact with and captured," Rice said. He pointed up to the blob on the screen.

"What's that?" Pel asked.

Rivers leaned over to one of the men at the computers. "Can you pull back on screen two?'

The image got further away a little at a time until it was obvious that the blob was on someone's arm.

"Is that a birthmark?" Garrett asked.

"Bad tattoo?" Pel suggested.

"Good guesses." Rivers stepped to an open terminal and typed for a moment. The map of all the crimes disappeared and showed a picture of a large black blob writhing on a table. "Near as we can guess it's some kind of parasite."

"Wait. That blob is what you got when you removed the tattoo?" Pel put her hand to her mouth. "There's one of these inside the girl you're looking for? Ewww."

"We think so. Her and others," Rice said. "We call these people Incubators, or Inks for short."

"Better than calling them 'Bators, I suppose," Pel cracked. She still managed to look disgusted at the images.

Garrett stepped up. "But, if you have this one, that means you can remove these..."

"Parasites," Rice said.

"Leech thingies," Pel corrected.

Garrett didn't care what they were called, really. He was more interested in the end result. If the agency knew about these things, there must be something they could do about them. "If you can remove them, then the people they infected can go back to normal, right?"

Rice and Rivers looked at each other for a moment.

Garrett pointed up at the screen with the blob on it. "How many people have you removed these things from?"

"Total? Twelve," Rivers said. "We've studied twelve subjects that were good candidates and we went ahead with surgeries to remove the parasites."

"How many survived the process?" Garrett asked.

"None," Rice and Rivers said in unison.

"As soon as they're removed, the Ink, or host dies," Rice continued. "Every time."

Garrett walked around looking at screens and charts, but his mind glazed over quickly at the technology and gizmos. His phone gave him a headache; this stuff was a thousand times worse. He walked over to the image of the blob that the agents had pointed out. It was one thing to arrest criminals and punish them for crimes, but this... catching people with things growing inside them. It wasn't something he was trained for. "What's it made of? It was a.n.a.lyzed right?"

"Nothing came up. We have no idea what it is. The organic material doesn't match up to anything we know. We keep thinking it might be an actual parasite, an animal or insect of some kind, but once it's removed, it turns to goo. Mostly water actually."

"Really? You've taken these people apart and all you know is that if you remove the ma.s.s, the people die?" Garrett thought the ma.s.s looked like a pile of raspberry yogurt.

"We can't say much about the material, but we know a little about the Inks themselves. The most useful thing we've gleaned from incarcerating these people is that they seem to be able to detect each other within a certain proximity." Rice shrugged. "They go a little nuts when one of their own kind is around. Learned that the hard way when we captured two Inks at once."

"That's helpful." Garrett looked at each of the people in the files. He didn't recognize any of them. Never busted them for petty crimes or anything larger. "I suppose the question that remains is where did these things come from and how did they get there?"

"Yes. That is the question," Rice said.

Pel was right at home with all of the computers and tech that gave Garrett the w.i.l.l.i.e.s. She'd quietly asked if she could sit at a terminal and nudged a technician out of the way. She tapped away madly at the keyboard. A beep and a warning screen stopped her progress. "Pa.s.sword?"

Rivers and Rice looked at each other. "You don't have clearance yet."

"So give it to her," Garrett said.

"You're onboard?"

"I think we are," Pel said. She looked to Garrett for confirmation.

"So let me get this straight, you want me come help you track down this freaky powerful girl and her friends? You guys are like the Men in Black and I'm Will Smith?"

The other three agents all chuckled at once.

"What?" Garrett asked.

Pel spoke up. "I wouldn't say Will Smith. Wow. Vain much?"

"Samuel L. Jackson in the Avengers?" Rivers asked.

"Not even," Rice laughed.

"Fine. I'm in. But if you don't get a little more forthcoming, I'm out quickly." Garrett looked back up at the screens and hoped he wasn't making an incredibly stupid decision. If it led to getting criminals off the street, he was all for it. If he started chasing aliens and chupacabras, he was going to feel like an idiot.

"Great, but did it sound like I was giving you a choice? My fault. We talked to your higher ups already and had you transferred. Your stuff is being brought over right now. It's a done deal." Rivers said. "Welcome to the FEI."

Pel and Garrett gave each other a glance.

"Done deal? Then why were you jerking us around about joining up? Just say you're borrowing us and move on." Garrett didn't like the start to this new employment relations.h.i.+p. If they were giant b.a.s.t.a.r.ds about things from the beginning, what was in store down the road?

"And did you just say FBI?" Pel asked. "It sounded like..."

"FEI. Federal Ent.i.ty Index. We investigate the validity of aberrant people and other creatures." Rice corrected.

"Like little green men?" Garrett asked.

Pel shrugged. "And witches?"

"Something like that," Rice said. He pulled two small boxes from his suit jacket and handed one each to Pel and Garrett. Inside were business cards with their names and phone numbers. "You'd still be working for your government. Same pay. Same health insurance. All that c.r.a.p doesn't change. Let's go get you set up at your desks."

"What about vacation? Sick days?" It seemed to be all Pel could think to ask.

Rice pointed down the hall. "Human resources is right down that hall. They'll have all the answers."

Garrett looked up from his cards and watched the others leave the room. He and Pel already had cards and desks. The FEI seemed pretty sure he and Pel were going to be OK with moving to a new organization. He made a mental note as to where Rice said the HR office was as he put the cards in his pocket. With a sigh, he followed the others.

20.

Morgan entered The Ground Up through the back entrance, staying as casual as he could. He felt naked walking around without his rifle, and found himself patting his denim jacket to make sure the pistol was still in the holster underneath it. He was also cognizant of the buck knife in his right boot, the small dagger strapped to his forearm and bra.s.s knuckles in his back pocket.

Harper's handler, Wallace, a.s.sured him the tracking device in Deena's backpack was working perfectly. Wallace had hidden it there at Marsh's behest when Deena started going missing and they began to worry the girls would run away. Across the street from the coffee house, Wallace was waiting in the SUV and Morgan was thrilled he didn't suggest coming in to help.

The place was pretty much empty, just a lone laptop guy at a booth and a young woman standing at the counter waiting for her order. Morgan casually stared at the menu for a moment, then the travel mugs and other c.r.a.p on the back wall. Out of the corner of his eye he looked around to make sure he hadn't missed anyone in a dark corner.

He followed the arrow on a restroom sign to see the door to the women's room wide open. He felt the muscles in his back relax and he sighed in relief. As the woman walked off with her coffee, Morgan smiled and stepped forward. "Hi-" he paused to look at the kid-behind-the-counter's nametag. "Hi, Kevin. How's it going? Can I get a..." he looked back at the menu. "A large mega mocha?"

"You mean a vendi Mocha Mega?" Kevin said with a half-smile.

Morgan's eyes narrowed and he patted his jacket. "Right."

"Anything else?"

Morgan looked at the large gla.s.s case next to the cash register. "How about one of those blueberry scones? Those look good."

"It's actually raspberry, do you still want it?"

Morgan looked around and fixed his eyes on the guy with the laptop. He could be a witness. Morgan decided to play it cool since he needed the kid. Needed the information he might have. "Yes. That's fine."

Morgan heard footsteps behind him and a.s.sumed someone had come in through the back door just as he had. He casually started to turn to get a look at them.

"You're going to order a girly drink like that?" It was his mentor's voice. "Nice skirt, Sally. Want him to put an umbrella and a little slice of fruit in it, too?"

The kid fired up the blender to make Morgan's drink, creating a ruckus.

"f.u.c.k off," Morgan mumbled.

Kevin stopped the blender and looked over at Morgan. "Did you say something?"

Morgan looked around innocently and then shook his head no. Kevin fired up the blender again.

"This is your chance, Morgan. You find this girl and you can write your own ticket. You want to be Marsh's number one again? Kill both of the girls." Morgan could feel the breath on his neck, see Brandt leaning over his shoulder. "You want to get in good with one of the compet.i.tors like Thorpe and go to work for her as her right hand man? Hey! Kill the girl. It's a win-win." He stepped out in front of Morgan and looked him in the eyes. "Who do you help out by letting her live? Certainly not yourself. The plan has to be to kill Deena and Harper, and while you're at it, put some holes in that weirdo in the car." He pointed over his shoulder.

"Marsh wants me to try to talk to her first for some reason."

The blender stopped and Kevin smiled at Morgan a bit nervously.

"Marsh is a dumb-a.s.s. Deena needs to be out of the picture, he just doesn't want to come right out and say it. It's a deniability thing."

Morgan leaned against the counter. "Hey. You seen a girl in here lately?"

Kevin looked at him blankly. "There are girls in here all the time. Constantly. I mean, like a stream of them. Anyone in particular?"

Morgan looked around again, fixing on the lone guy working at his laptop. "Long dark hair? Late twenties?"