“We’re Unit Eighteen. Or is it nineteen?”
“Eighteen. But we can discuss unit designations later,” Rick said, relaxing and letting that rare, charming smile out. “For now, we have official orders.” He read from a short paper he pulled from a file. “‘A team of recently graduated special agents will be assigned to the new Knoxville/Asheville/Chattanooga region, under newly promoted senior special agent, Rick LaFleur.’” There were catcalls—literally—and hoots of delight.
“Why here?” Occam asked, his words laconic but his tone laced with something darker, suspicious. “Why us? Because we’re mostly paranormals, so they stick us together in a backwater?”
“No,” Rick said. “Secret City is my best guess. They want us here to protect it, and they think a human/para unit is the best way to do that.”
A line appeared between Occam’s brows as he processed what that might mean. He didn’t argue. Secret City was the name of the underground testing and R&D part of the US government.
“Unfortunately,” Rick said, “our first investigation just went from looking around and asking questions about the homegrown terrorist group, the Human Speakers of Truth, getting our feet wet, and writing reports, to a higher priority.” A sensation like electricity flashed through the people in the room and through me. Outside, the woods rustled in anticipation. To me, Rick said, “We were initially only intended to see if the Human Speakers of Truth had moved into the region, an easy, strictly information-gathering and investigative assignment as part of the FBI’s investigation into the organization. As of this morning, there was a confirmed kidnapping of a human teenaged girl in Knoxville.”
I stood and went to John’s desk, pulled the small news sheet, and handed it to Rick. He made a face. “Yes. Fortunately, for the girl’s sake, it’s being downplayed by the mainstream media, and it hasn’t hit social media yet. In fact, the latest info is that this photo and the security camera it came from were part of an early Halloween prank.” He handed it back to me and booted up his laptop.
“HST raised funds through kidnapping in the past,” Occam said, sitting forward.
“Correct. But we’re not jumping to conclusions. We don’t yet have independent confirmation that HST is in the area. No confirmation of HST involvement. And the methodology of the kidnappings didn’t precisely fit the previous pattern,” Rick said.
“But PsyLED and FBI took down three of the top people in HST,” JoJo said, “so maybe someone else is in charge, putting their own ideas into play.”
Occam said, “I get all that. But why are we involved? We work crimes and cold cases with paranormal connections.”
“Correct again,” Rick said. He whirled the laptop and we watched as fuzzy black-and-white footage moved across the screen. Four girls were standing in a clump, all wearing identical short skirts and showing a lot of bare leg. A grayish van pulled up. Three men jumped out. They grabbed one girl, threw a sheet over her, and pulled her into the van. The van roared off, leaving behind a puff of dark exhaust and a group of screaming teenagers. There must have been three more people standing nearby, as the group increased in number. Cell phone cameras went to work. A moment later, a police car pulled up.
Rick played the sequence again, and the others detailed physical characteristics of the kidnappers. One large and clumsy. One small and jumpy. One halfway between the two. All wearing toboggans, the kind that cover the whole face.
Rick said, “Two hours ago, the FBI received a ransom demand on the girl. One million dollars for her safe return, with an offshore account for the transfer of funds. They let her talk to her mother. She was alive, terrified, but unhurt at the time. The call was on a cell phone, but by the time the agents triangulated it and got a team there, the only thing left was a cheap burner crushed in pieces on the roadway. No cameras in the area. No prints but the girl’s on the cell. We’ll know more when they get more.
“There is one paranormal connection. It’s tenuous, but was enough to read us in. When the ransom call came for the girl, it was for one million, to be deposited into an account in the Turks. The family said they could get the money, and then called a blood-servant of Ming Glass, the Master of the City.”
There was a soft sound of interest from JoJo.
Rick nodded. “It took the feds by surprise. Apparently the family thought