Threat Neutralized

Jamal drew his Glock and checked to make sure he had a full clip. “When this thing comes for us – for me – we shouldn’t be around a lot of other people. I think we should go back to Betty, wait for dark in the middle of the junkyard and make it fight us there. Less chance of innocent bystanders getting hurt.”

“We don’t need to fight this thing,” Joe countered. “We’ve still got some time. What we need to do is get our hands on the kid’s necklace. I say we go back to the house, bull our way in, and take it. There’ll be fallout, but it’s better than being dead.”

Jamal nodded. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe we don’t need to fight.” Joe cast a worried glance at his partner; something in his voice sounded almost disappointed to miss an appointment with almost certain death.

“Well if we’re going back to the kid’s house, we’re going to need some different wheels,” Garrett chimed in. “No offense Joe, but if Ma Dengler sees the Batmobile here parked in her driveway, she’ll never open the door. We should rent a different car.”

“Two,” Thomas added. “Four people in one car is too obvious, and too easy a target.” He didn’t add that he didn’t care what car he was in, as long as he wasn’t in the same car as Jamal.

Thomas pulled up Google Maps on his phone. There weren’t any rental car places in Glenridge, but there was an Enterprise in the next town over, and they set out. The grey Taurus was still on their tail, hanging back just far enough to make it difficult to see who was inside. Halfway there, Jamal suddenly spoke up. “Hey! Turn in here!” Joe jerked the car off the highway into a strip mall. It was late October, and one of the storefronts had been converted into a pop-up Halloween store. “I stand out too much around here,” Jamal said. “I’m going to get something for a disguise.” No one else seemed too concerned with being recognized, so Jamal went in alone. He returned fifteen minutes later with his “disguise kit” – a hippie wig (complete with multi-colored headband), oversized sunglasses, and a construction vest.

They reached the rental car place and Thomas and Jamal went in. Thomas rented a simple sedan, while Jamal got a minivan (he wanted a panel van, but Enterprise didn’t have any). They reversed course and returned to Peconic Park, where they transferred gear (mostly weapons) from Joe’s trunk into their new vehicles. Jamal put on his new disguise, while Joe reprised his “gas company employee” get-up, with a sawed-off shotgun hanging on a strap under his vest. Everyone put their radio earpieces in place and did a radio check, then Joe and Jamal climbed into the minivan and set off for the Dengler’s. Thomas and Garrett stayed in Peconic Park – Thomas wanted to keep a safe (and escapable) distance between himself and Jamal.

As Joe drove out of the park, they got closer to their mysterious tail than they’d been so far – the road leading to the park’s parking lot didn’t leave the followers much maneuvering room to keep at a distance. As they passed, they were able to get a clear look into the Taurus; to no one’s surprise it held the two “EPA” men, Baker and Dexter, who they’d encountered at Lauren Harrowgate’s autopsy. The pair nodded to Joe as he passed, then pulled out a block behind them to continue following. “Agent Esther says they’re on our side,” Joe said somewhat skeptically. Jamal snorted. “I don’t care what she says,” he growled. “I don’t trust their motives.”

Joe pulled the rental van into the Dengler’s driveway, and the two men got out; they could see Baker and Dexter pull to the curb a block away. “Be ready for them to ambush us when we come out,” Jamal whispered, and Joe nodded grimly. Joe strode to the front door; there was a storm door in front of the solid wood door, and he swore quietly as he confirmed it was locked. Taking a deep breath, he rang the doorbell repeatedly, hoping it would sound urgent; Jamal stood behind him, back turned, pretending to be talking on his phone.

Mrs. Dengler cautiously opened the door, leaving the storm door shut. This would all hinge on whether she recognized Joe as one of the FBI agents who had visited a few days ago. Joe didn’t give her time to think. “I’m with the gas company,” he said breathlessly. “We have an urgent situation - we’ve detected a gas leak, and our equipment says it’s coming from inside your house! You need to get out immediately! Are you alone?”

Mrs. Dengler turned pale. “Oh my god! Are you sure? My son’s upstairs!”

“You need to get him out, now!” Joe said urgently. “Let us in and we’ll try to isolate the leak while you and your son get out of the house.” To his relief, Mrs. Dengler unlatched the door, then headed for the stairs leading up to the bedrooms.

“Yep, I can definitely smell gas,” Joe said, keeping up the charade as Mrs. Dengler practically ran up the stairs. He and Jamal slipped inside the house, closing the door behind them to block any prying eyes. Upstairs, they could hear Mrs. Dengler’s muffled voice. “Tommy! We need to get out of the house now! There’s a gas leak and it could explode!” There was an unintelligible reply, and then the sound of pounding feet.

Mrs. Dengler and Tommy reached the bottom of the stairs to find Joe with his sawed-off shotgun leveled at them. “FBI! Freeze!” he commanded. The two slid to a stop. Mrs. Dengler began sputtering protests, but Jamal calmly drew his tranquilizer pistol, leveled it in a two-handed stance, and fired. The dart struck Thomas Dengler directly over his heart, and the boy staggered back, clutching at the red-feathered syringe protruding from his chest. Jamal had a moment of fear;  if the dart had penetrated Thomas’ heart, he was as good as dead. “Mom?” the boy said weakly, then collapsed backwards onto the stairs.

Mrs. Dengler was screaming. “You shot him! You shot my baby!” She dropped to her knees, patting Tommy’s cheeks.

“It’s just a tranquilizer. He’ll be fine.” Joe was trying to sound reassuring, but it was far too little, too late. “It looks bad, but it’s not. We’re FBI and I’m afraid your son is involved in a very serious situation.”

While Joe tried in vain to calm the panicked mother, Jamal ignored her. He pushed her roughly aside, then ripped the boy’s hoodie down the front. Under his shirt, Thomas Dengler wore a small baked-clay amulet suspended on a leather thong. Being careful not to touch the amulet itself, Jamal pulled the thong off over Thomas’s head and slipped the amulet into his pocket.

“What did you take from my boy?” his mother demanded. Her fear was turning to anger now. “Was that my grandfather’s amulet? That’s private property! You have no right to take that! Give that back!”

“Your son was in possession of something extremely dangerous,” Joe said, still trying to mollify the mother bear. “We, uh, have a warrant, and we’ll give you a receipt for the object we’ve, um, confiscated.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a slip of paper (the receipt from this morning’s breakfast) and a pen, scribbled something on the back, and dropped it at Mrs. Dengler’s feet. “We’ll be in touch,” he concluded lamely.

Joe and Jamal hustled to the front door, weapons clutched tightly; they fully expected Baker and Dexter to be waiting to ambush them as they exited the house. To their relief, the grey Taurus was still parked a block away. They dashed to their van and screeched out of the driveway.

Thomas and Garrett had been listening to all this on their radios, and now they fired up the rental car. “Have you still got the tail?” Thomas asked. “Affirmative,” crackled the reply. “We’re going back to Betty – follow us there.”

And so a little convoy made its way out of Glenridge. Joe and Jamal were in the lead, with their shadows following a quarter-mile back. Behind them, Thomas and Garrett brought up the rear. But soon a fourth vehicle joined the parade. An unmarked white panel truck pulled out of a strip mall directly behind the Taurus. After a few turns, it was clear that the truck was following as well. “You’ve got more company,” Thomas warned over the radio, and described the newcomer.

“Shit!” Jamal’s plan had been to take the amulet to Betty and destroy it there, so that if there was any blow-back it wouldn’t affect innocent people. But the appearance of the truck changed all that. “We can’t let those guys get their hands on this thing.” Joe nodded; they both assumed that ‘those guys’ were Agent Esther and more backup. They might be Delta Green, or they might not, but Carson had warned them that their priorities were to find a way to use the creature that was killing people in Glenridge, not to destroy it. The question was – who could you believe?

“Fuck this.” Jamal pulled the amulet out of his pocket and dropped it on the floor of the van. He drew his Glock, then reversed it and slammed the butt of the gun like a hammer onto the amulet. The centuries-old clay shattered easily. As it did, and almost electrical charge seemed to fill the air, accompanied by an odd, disturbing humming, chanting, droning sound just beyond hearing. They both were aware of something huge beginning to materialize just above the roof of the van, and vague, semi-invisible appendages could be seen reaching down around the windows. Then there was an almost physical sense of absence as whatever it was vanished.

Joe and Jamal exchanged terrified looks. “Did you guys see that?” Joe called over the radio. “See what?” came the reply. “We can’t really see you past this truck in front of us.” Joe glanced in the rearview mirror; if the tail vehicles had seen something start to materialize above their van, they weren’t showing it. Nonetheless, he and Jamal knew – whatever it was, it had been real.

Twenty minutes later, Joe and Jamal pulled into Buddy’s Auto Salvage. The grey Taurus swung around and pulled crossways in front of them, while the panel truck pulled up directly behind, blocking them in. Baker and Dexter climbed out of the Taurus, nodding again; for the moment, they were unarmed. Joe looked at Jamal. “I guess we should see what they want.” Jamal nodded, and the two men got out of the van.

As they did, the front door of the panel truck opened and two women climbed out. One was Agent Esther; the other was of Indian descent, long black hair pulled back in a ponytail. “I understand you went back to the boy’s house,” Agent Esther said without preface. “From monitoring the police bands, it sounds like you made quite a stir. Did you get what you were looking for?” Joe and Jamal looked at each other, then Joe pushed his vest aside to reveal the sawed-off shotgun hanging at his side.

Baker and Dexter instantly dropped into a crouch, weapons drawn and aimed at Joe. “Let’s lose the scattergun, Mr. Bonosaro,” Baker said calmly. “It just makes everyone nervous.”

“Well see, your guns are making me nervous, so I guess we’re at a standoff.” That standoff lasted all of five seconds, until the back door of the panel truck opened and half a dozen special forces troops spilled out, an assortment of automatic weapons trained on Joe. Joe sized up the situation, then let the shotgun slide off his shoulder and into the dirt. He turned back to Agent Esther with a broad smile. “Yeah, we got it. Turns out the kid’s great-grandfather had found some ancient Incan amulet in Peru. It ended up getting left to the kid. We think it gave him the power to summon some sort of creature to take revenge on anyone who’d made him angry. We’re not real sure about that part, but the important thing is that the kid’s not going to be able to hurt anyone else.”

It was the Indian woman’s turn to smile. “Excellent work! Agent Esther told me that despite being given some misleading directions, you were an outstanding team, and I can see that she was right.

“Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Dr. Rebecca Thornhill, Delta Green’s Deputy Director of Research.”

Jamal’s eyebrows went up. “Research?”

Thornhill nodded. “The Research Directorate is one of the new things the Program has instituted. The old Delta Green was all shoot first, ask questions later – if at all. Sometimes that worked fine. Sometimes it just got a lot of people killed. It rarely taught you anything useful for the future, except to shoot faster.

“Trust me – Delta Green is still about stamping out the Unknown, the threats to our universe’s very existence. But we think we can do that better if we understand the enemy we’re fighting, learn where they might be vulnerable. Whatever this thing is, however it’s controlled, we have the opportunity now to learn about it, how to fight it, or better yet, counter it, control it ourselves. Do you have the amulet?”

Jamal nodded to the van. “It’s on the floor on the passenger side.” Dr. Thornhill rushed to the van and pulled the door open. She looked down at the shattered shards of pottery scattered across the floormat, then turned to Agent Esther and shook her head. Esther threw her head back in exasperation.

Dr. Thornhill walked back to stand in front of Joe and Jamal. “It’s a shame you couldn’t trust us. I understand, I truly do. Field agents endure so much that the simple solution – to destroy, to kill – often seems best. But this is a lost opportunity that could cost Delta Green dearly somewhere down the road. I hope that next time such an opportunity arises, you’re able to look to the bigger picture.” She nodded, and her troops returned to the truck. Baker gave Joe and Jamal one last nod, and the two vehicles pulled out of the salvage yard, leaving the bewildered mechanics in the garage wondering what that show of firepower had been all about.