Specters: A Monster Squad Novel - 8 Read Online Free Page B

warehouse they could see a plywood mockup of some kind with a small crowd of men surrounding the north side. “Looks like we’re late for a party.” He motioned Mac along the southern wall, behind crates of equipment and supplies.
    The two worked their way closer, pausing only long enough to try to make out what held the rapt attention of the crowd. Mac grabbed Mark’s arm and pulled him back behind a crate. “They have them.”
    “Who did you see?”
    “Spanky and John. There was somebody else, but there’s too many of them between us. I couldn’t see who.”
    Mark nodded. “They have at least three. That doesn’t mean they have them all. Eyes and ears open for any they may have missed.”
    Mac was about to acknowledge when something fell onto his head. He swiped at it and looked upward into the rafters of the building. Lamb gave a subtle wave from the shadows. He pointed further down, and Jacobs gave a mock salute. “I think that answers your question, Major.”
    Mark pointed to his ear bud and Lamb shook his head. He pointed to the group below. Mark nodded and held up two fingers. Go to alternate frequency.
    Lamb adjusted his radio and Mark’s earpiece buzzed. “Delta Three and Four standing by for orders, Major.”
    “What’s their strength, Three?”
    “I’m counting nineteen, sir. Most are armed.”
    “Flashbangs?” Mark shrugged.
    Lamb nodded. “As soon as you’re in position, sir.”
    “You heard the man.” Mark patted Mac’s shoulder. “Take up position behind those crates. We’ll catch them in a crossfire.” He watched as Mac worked his way further down and got set up. Mark took a deep breath and prayed that he wasn’t about to get his men killed.
     
    *****
     
    “Son of a bitch!” Bigby kicked a chair over in his office before shoving the laptop into its bag. He began throwing his papers into a satchel and rapidly going through the drawers of the desk that he called his to ensure anything that could be used against him wasn’t there when the shit hit the fan.
    “What are you doing?” Martinez stared at him as he hurriedly threw things into a duffel.
    “I’m getting the fuck out of here.” He jabbed a finger at the man. “You’d be wise to do the same, mate.”
    “Why? We have them. Don’t you see? We can order them to send us Ms. Simmons in trade. We can ensure her safety, and they’ll never know that we were about to attack.”
    “Are you daft?” Bigby tossed the computer bag and satchel into the duffel and zipped it tight. “Those blokes aren’t exactly stupid. I’d bet your left nut that others are already on their way.” He glanced through the window of the office leading to the back of the facility. “If they’re not already here.”
    “Don’t be absurd.” Martinez leaned against the counter and chuckled at him. “We have their communications blocked. They can neither send nor receive any—”
    “And what would you assume if you lost coms with your team in the field, eh?” Bigby tossed the duffle over his shoulder and made for the window. “I can’t believe you’re a warrant officer and you’re that stupid.”
    He fought with the painted over lock and pulled his knife to pry the latch. “I’m getting the fuck out of here now.”
    “I knew you were a coward.” The venom in Martinez’ voice was unmistakable.
    Bigby paused and turned, the knife glistening in the low lit room. “I’m many things, mate. But a coward isn’t one of them.” He pointed out the door with the tantō blade. “You have no idea what you’ve done out there, do you? Each of those men are worth twenty of yours. And how many do you have left?”
    Martinez squared his shoulders. “I’ll show you what they’re worth. I only need one of them alive to trade for Senorita Simmons.”
    “Ha. I hate to break it to ya, mate, but she’s mated now. I believe she’s Señora Mitchell, yeah?” He turned back and jammed the knife blade into the frame of the window.
    “I do not