Chapter 03

Allen and his team had managed to rent five canoes from an older gentleman that ran a ‘Discover the Everglades’ tourist attraction during the summer months. He had no use for the boats in the wintertime and had been more than happy to make some unexpected money off of them. It had been a decent row out to where their map said the crossover had taken place, but it hadn’t been hard to find in the end.

The area was mostly submerged in water, but the landscape was still dotted with hundreds of mangrove islands. Some of these semi-aquatic masses of trees were no more than a tangle of branches poking up above the water’s surface while others sat atop actual masses of land that rose a few inches to a foot or so above the water level. They’d found the crossover location on one of these larger islands, far from any human habitation, at least at this time of year. Allen and Hector had landed to inspect the site while the others stayed behind to keep watch in the boats. Neither of them was half the tracker Hughes was, but the signs of disturbance had been plain enough.

The last place like this Allen had been was in Washington state and the scene he’d discovered had indicated that some sort of fight had taken place. This was very different. Multiple sets of clawed feet had disturbed the dirt and leaves on the small island, but it didn’t seem like any violence had taken place. Allen did not take this as a positive sign. A handful of these things working together wasn’t much better than a few of them duking it out.

“They were here alright,” Hector said, kneeling down to get a better look at the tracks. He had been gone for the tail end of their last mission and had only rejoined the group last week. Not much of a break all things considered, the man had almost died during his last outing in Washington, but he didn’t seem to mind. “But where did they go?”

“Hard to say,” Allen said as he looked at the waters around them. Night was still a few hours off, but they were already over an hour’s row from where they’d picked up the boats. Even if these things weren’t actively hunting them, snakes, alligators and sharks still might be. Allen had no interest in tangling with any of these predators in the pitch blackness of the swamp. “It doesn’t look like many of these islands are actually substantial enough to stand on. Unless these things swim especially well, we should be able to follow them by just sticking to the larger bits of land.”

“Or we could use the drone,” Hector said.

“Or we could use the drone,” Allen agreed, smiling. He’d almost forgotten that Wynters had sent them with a number of state of the art toys.

“Micah!” Allen called back to the boats in a low voice that he hoped wouldn’t carry too far.

Micah Talbot came jogging towards them from his small metal canoe, a large pack slung over his shoulder. Micah was another old friend of Allen’s and so far the best at controlling the drones Margaret had provided them with. Unlike the commercial drones that seemed to be buzzing around the country all of a sudden, this thing was state of the art; 1080p high definition camera, lightweight frame, close to noiseless flight and virtually undetectable with the naked eye from the ground. Better yet, it could send a live feed to almost anywhere in the world, from almost anywhere in the world, without the risk of the transmission being intercepted. “What are we looking at Allen?”

“A few targets, likely together. I wouldn’t guess more than four or five, but it’s hard to tell. We’re thinking the drone might be the best way to figure out where they went. Only so many of these islands are big enough for them to gather on. Might be an easy recon,” Allen said.

“Fine by me,” Micah replied as he lowered his pack to the ground, removed the drone’s hard case from within it and began preparing it for flight. Micah was a few years younger than Allen and Hector, almost fifteen younger than Hughes, but he was constantly expanding his skill set into the new realm of technology driven engagement and support, surpassing the rest of Allen’s men in terms of field experience by hundreds of hours. One of the most genuinely good natured men Allen had ever met in their line of work, Micah had been an easy choice when he’d been tasked with expanding the field team. Now he just needed to make sure the man didn’t end up regretting it.

“And we’re live,” Micah said as he lifted the completed drone in his hand, it was far smaller than most of the machines Allen had seen before, and began using the controls to make it slowly levitate into the air. Soon it was gone from view and the small HD monitor implanted in the wide control interface was their only way to keep track of it. “Want me to patch this through to HQ?” Micah asked, looking down at the controls as he began his sweep of the area.

“Not yet,” Allen said. “Everything is being recorded. No sense diverting all of their attention if we can’t find anything until tomorrow.”

“Fair enough,” Micah said, still concentrating on the screen as he sent the little drone higher and higher into the air.

“Go get the others out of the boats,” Allen said to Hector. “Salties visit these swamps from time to time. Probably a little cold for them now, but why take the risk?”

Hector didn’t seem to like the idea and he moved quickly as he went back to the boats to help Benoit and Sophia beach the canoes.

Allen watched them get to work before taking a seat on one of the thick mangrove branches that criss crossed their island refuge. He was a big man and the little canoe was murder on his back. If they were going hunting tonight, he didn’t want to be anymore locked up than he already was.

It didn’t take Micah long to find their quarry, maybe forty minutes in the air. “Got them,” he said as he looked down at the screen in his hands. “Looks like five of them. A fair fight at least.”

“How far?” Allen asked as he rose to his feet. “Can we get to them before nightfall?”

“We can get there, but it will be dicey getting back.”

“What do you think Hector?” Allen asked.

“Get it done,” Hector said with a firm nod.

“Benoit?”

“Aye,” the man said, nodding gravely.

“Sophia?”

“I sure as hell don’t want to row out here twice. I’m with Hector, let’s get it done.”

“Alright then,” Allen said. “I’ll give Atticus a call and we can roll out. Leave one boat here. Sophia will paddle for Micah while he mans the drone.”

“Not very chivalrous of you,” Hector laughed.

“The rest of you are too enormous to share space,” Sophia shot back as she headed towards the canoes. “Don’t worry about me Hector. I can paddle with the best of them.”

Glad to see that the team was in high spirits, Allen made the call back to base. He had a good feeling about this.

----------------------------------------

Atticus found himself back in Margaret’s office that evening, though he found a very different assembly of people inside then there had been this morning. Margaret sat behind her desk, fiddling with a remote that he assumed would bring Allen’s live feed up on the large flat screen she’d set up on the wall across from her. Kim was seated at her side, looking more like a close friend than an employee. The slight woman looked daggers at Atticus as he walked in, but he ignored her. Jabari and Lehman were here as well and they were occupying two of the three armchairs that had once sat in front of Margaret’s desk. They had now been moved so that they sat facing the monitor as well.

The Raven was also present for some reason. The strange figure stood to the left of Margaret’s desk, away from the two priests. The sight of him in their midst was only now becoming something Atticus wasn’t actively distracted by. The Raven looked more or less human, though there were noticeable differences that shattered this illusion on closer inspection. His limbs were longer than they would be on a human of his height and his digits were all out of whack; his feet having only two large toes and each hand only three fingers and a thumb. What really made him stick out as different from the others though were the long black feathers that ran down the backs of his arms and the large, wooden looking mask that covered the top half of his face. Mask might have been the wrong word though, it was really more of a helmet, even if it did strongly resemble something from a museum of Native American or African cultural history. The bird-like headpiece looked as though it had been welded or burned onto the man’s skull, the scarring around its perimeter making it clear that to try and remove it would likely kill him.

As Atticus found himself staring at the ebony skinned figure, the Raven met his gaze through the narrow eye holes that allowed him little more than tunnel vision when it came to sight. Nodding to Atticus before returning his attention to the blank screen, Atticus tore his eyes away, hoping the Raven hadn’t taken offense to his gawking. It was hard to tell with him.

Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

Allen had called him almost thirty minutes ago, but he had been unable to get to his phone. He’d made the mistake of lying down after his talk with Liv and had had trouble getting back out of bed. He hadn’t slept, he really did need the pills for that, but he hadn’t rested either. He’d dwelled. It was all he could seem to do anymore if he didn’t have something to distract him. Only this time he’d missed something important and now he’d have to spend the rest of his day explaining it away.

His inability to answer his phone had meant Allen had been forced to call Margaret who had then sent Kim to fetch him from his room. The young woman hadn’t come in, luckily, but she had not been overly friendly either. A few quick raps on the door followed by a demand that he get up to Margaret’s office and she was gone. Now that he was up though, he was feeling better, more like himself. He just needed to keep busy was all. Just needed to snap out of it.

“Glad you could join us,” Margaret said without looking up from the remote.

“Having some trouble there?” Atticus chided. “Want me to phone tech support?”

“Everything’s fine,” Margaret said dismissively. “Just messing around with some settings while we wait. When they connect, we’ll see what they see. Don’t you worry about that.”

As if on cue, the large screen before them burst to life, displaying an aerial shot of the darkening swamp. Night was falling in Florida it seemed, but the drone’s heat vision had been activated and they could clearly see five humanoid beings milling about what was probably some sort of campfire.

“What is this?” the Raven asked in a hard voice.

“Heat vision,” Margaret answered him. “The camera would have trouble seeing them in this light so Mr. Becker has opted to employ thermal visioning to use the target’s body heat to locate them.”

The Raven said nothing to this, but kept his eyes glued to the screen. Atticus didn’t like how the man got when he was learning about their military capabilities. He was definitely up to something, Atticus just didn’t know what yet.

“Can you hear me Margaret?” Allen’s voice said. The sound hadn’t come from the television monitor’s speakers, but from the laptop sitting in front of Margaret and Kim.

“We can,” Margaret said into what Atticus assumed was a microphone somewhere on her computer.

“Looks like five targets. We’ve got no visual yet outside of the drone feed, but we’ll need to cut that so Micah can use his rifle.”

“No need,” Margaret responded, “Kim will take control of the drone from here.”

Allen paused for a moment before saying. “Have her maintain its current position until I give the all clear. We don’t need drone movement alerting the targets to our presence or messing up a shot.”

“Understood,” Kim said into the microphone.

“I’m going to cut my mic now. I can hear you but will not be able to respond. Only absolutely vital information from here on out and never when I’m lining up a shot.”

“Understood,” Margaret said. Clicking a key on her keyboard she addressed the room. “The mic on our end is muted now as well. We are here to observe only. The only person I want to hear from is you Raven.” The Raven cocked his head to look sideways at her through his narrow eye holes. “If we get a true visual on these things I want to know what we’re looking at.”

“I will do what I can,” the Raven said noncommittally.

“See that you do,” Margaret said.

Atticus tensed up as he watched the Raven’s feathers pulse with what he could only assume was anger or annoyance. Margaret may have a hard time dealing with the Prince, but she seemed far too comfortable poking at the Raven. If she wasn’t careful, he was going to get tired of all this and just disappear one day, or worse.

Watching the feed with everyone else, Atticus hoped for the best.

----------------------------------------

Allen rowed as quietly as he could through the darkening mangrove swamp. The targets were just ahead of him now and the light from their campfire gave away their position like a beacon on a hill. The others were taking up positions around the targets’ chosen island. Once they were in position they would send two quick beeps from their mics to Allen’s head set. Once he’d gotten the signal from the others, he would open communications and give the command to fire.

But first he needed to find somewhere to dock.

Allen was a large man, even among other large men, so finding a mangrove island that had enough room for him to take his shot was going to be difficult. It only complicated things more that this by no means extant island also needed to be within sight of their targets. Searching, he soon found himself close enough to the targets to hear the crackling of their fire along with some sort of chittering and movement just ahead of him. Only a few islands lay between him and the source of the light and noise now, and he decided to head straight for the largest one and hope for the best.

This proved to be a mistake. The tangle of trees was wide and in the right position, but there wasn’t anywhere Allen could stabilize himself enough to take a shot. If he wanted this done clean and quick, that started with him. The only other option was a much smaller island, much closer to the targets. Realizing he had no choice, Allen rowed quietly towards the small dark mass just shy of the sphere of light the campfire had created.

Beep-beep

Beep-beep

Two of them were in position already. Allen prayed that this new island would be satisfactory and was not disappointed. The mangroves had grown up over a sizable patch of dryish land and the way the branches draped over it, Allen would be totally unseen by anyone out in the dark swamp. Wedging his boat into the thicker trunks, he managed to slip between some thinner branches and center himself on the small island.

Beep-beep

Just waiting on one more. Assembling his rifle quickly, he attached the scope Margaret had made for him. It was a top of the line piece of equipment, but in addition to that she had built in a camera, much like the one in the drone, so that she and the others could see things from his point of view in the field. Settling into a comfortable position, he looked through the scope and got his first view of their enemy.

These things were not quite what he had expected, but disturbing nonetheless. They had legs and arms like a person, but the space between their wrists and ankles were joined by strange flaps that reminded him of a flying squirrel, though no fur covered them, just loose folds of pale skin. On their chests were what looked to be multiple rows of deflated breasts that ran all the way down to their stomachs. Panning up, Allen saw faces that were reminiscent of an owl’s; large sunken eyes, a small beaked mouth and rounded, twitching heads. The five of them were scuttling around the rather large island they’d found and seemed to be roasting a small alligator over their fire.

Beep-beep

“Allen,” Margaret’s voice said immediately after the beep. “The Raven says these things are witches. Not very powerful, but vicious if you get too close. So long as you don’t land on their island you should be safe. Bad swimmers. Raven thinks they are lost. Looking for dry land. Forests. Good luck.”

Allen was half annoyed by the untimely interruption, but the information was still good to have. “Is anyone too close to these things?” Allen whispered into his mic. “Raven says they're only dangerous up close.”

Beep

Beep

Beep

Beep

Four negatives was all he needed to hear. “Micah and Hector take the two sitting on the big branch next to the fire. Benoit, take out the one working the spit. Sophia, get the loner off on her own. I’ll get big ugly in the middle.”

Beep, Beep

Beep, Beep

Beep, Beep

Beep, Beep

Allen kept his mic on as he readied his weapon. His target seemed to be moving the most, possibly their leader. Allen waited until he was certain he had a bead on his target before giving the signal. “Fire,” he said. Four shots rang out from the surrounding area and had exactly the effect Allen had hoped for. As its companions dropped to the mud around it, Allen’s target froze, eyes wide with shock, beaked mouth hanging open. Allen didn’t let the moment last long and his shot removed the top half of the stunned creature’s head, killing it instantly.

“All clear,” Allen said, as he let himself relax. Quick and clean, just like they’d planned.

This he could get used to.

----------------------------------------

“Beautifully done Allen!” Margaret yelled, slapping the table as they watched the field team’s flawless take down of all five targets. “That is how things need to be done. Perfect execution. Kim, get the drone down on that island now. I want as much documentation as we can manage before these things fade away. Send the men back. No need for them to wait for the drone, you can catch up with them.”

“Impressive,” the Raven said. He sounded like he meant it. Atticus hadn’t known the man long, but he had a feeling praise did not spring from the Raven’s lips often.

“We’ve come so far,” Jabari mused from his spot next to Lehman. “Is there any chance Henrik and I can see these pictures you’re gathering before we depart? I’d love the chance to try and identify them in the literature.”

“I think that can be arranged,” Margaret said. It was indicative of the high she was riding that she did not deny them on principle. “Now if you’ll excuse me everyone, I have some calls to make before I turn in for the night. Atticus, stay back for a moment will you.”

Atticus watched as the others filed out of the room, the Raven leading the way. Kim simply moved from her place behind Margaret’s desk to her own. “A good outing,” Atticus said.

“Yes it was,” Margaret said, leaning over her desk to look at him. “This is how it will go from now on and how it should have gone before. I just wanted to make sure you understand that.”

Atticus was stunned. Obviously as he’d watched the feed he’d acknowledged that they had made a colossal mistake not bringing Margaret into the fold day one. He knew Jack’s blood was on his hands and that tonight had only solidified that fact. He just hadn't expected her to throw it in his face like this. “I understand it, Marge,” he said, unable to keep the nickname from slipping out, “far more than you seem willing to acknowledge.” Without waiting to hear more, he marched out of the office after the others. He glared at Kim as he passed her, ready for her scorn, but none was there. If anything she looked like she pitied him.

He would have preferred the scorn.

Slamming the door to Margaret’s office he retreated back to his bedroom. A handful of pills, and he wouldn’t have to deal with any of this until tomorrow. Not the best of silver linings, but today it was all he had.