CHAPTER FIVE:

The two police cars drove down the noisy streets of Senigot’s executive district and finally entered the perimeter of the mayor’s headquarters. Miles pulled up to the gates, only to be halted by the security crew guarding the booth. The blockade bars came down in front of the car, and two patrols approached them from either side. “Can we be of help, sir?” the man said.

“Yes, Lt. Miles Golda, Senigot Police,” he said while showing his badge.

“Is there an emergency, Lieutenant?” the other guard said.

“Matter of fact, yes. I need to speak with Mayor Bricker. Is there any way we can see him?”

“Wait just one moment.” The first guard walked back into the booth and picked up the phone.

“What happened?” the female guard asked.

Miles looked over at Tarik, who flicked his hand lamely, prompting him to explain.

“We’re here to file a missing person report, my friend’s grandson.”

“Aren’t those reports usually filed at the police station?” she said.

Miles shook his head. “Let’s just say this is a special case.”

The other officer came back over and tapped on the window. “Bricker’s just about to adjourn a meeting. In about twenty minutes we can have our personnel take you up. Officer Calla will let you in. Sit tight for a sec; she’ll drive you to the front.”

The blonde-haired officer Calla walked past the barricade through the parking lot to find her vehicle.

“Thank you, Officer,” Miles replied.

“Good luck.”

Once Calla’s vehicle pulled in front of the gate, the other officer raised the bar and allowed Miles and the others to drive through. They followed Calla’s car around the lot, nearly two blocks wide, and pulled along the front of the black, steel skyscraper. She turned on her rear blinkers and fished out her walkie talkie. “Channel Four, Officer Arden, you copy?”

“Go for Arden.”

“I’m in front of Bricker’s headquarters with Lt. Golda. He’s requested to meet with him to file a missing person report.”

“Roger, I’m on my way down.”

“Golda, you and Olivers put your blinkers on,” Calla ordered.

They followed the instruction and waited out front until the dark-haired Officer Arden walked through the front doors and stood at the stairwell. “Calla, I’m at the doors now. Bring them up,” he said.

“Golda, you can take it from here. Arden, call us if you need anything,” Calla said.

Arden waved his badge across the sensor, and the doors unlocked. They walked across the slick, marbled flooring to the reception area. He waved to the receptionists, pointing his finger upward to signal his return to the top floor. The five of them boarded the elevator and took the seemingly eternal ride to the twentieth floor. Arden led them through the vividly-lit top floor, where scattered employees left their offices to finish last-minute tasks before calling it a night.

In the lobby of the floor stood a rectangular stone base upon which a marble pillar sat, a memorial honoring those who lost their lives after the tragic events that decimated former mayor Corrigan’s company during the outbreak of the Arugian War. The group walked off the marble and crossed onto the carpeted office halls. Some passing workers heading to the elevators waved to the officers. Arden escorted them to the long, narrow halls to the central room ahead of them. Beyond the thick, glass doors lie the board meeting room, where some straggling employees just left.

“Oh, evening officers,” a woman said.

“Hello. Is Mr. Bricker still available?” Arden said.

“He should still be in there, we just finished a meeting.”

Arden knocked on the door, then met eyes with Mayor Bricker and a few of his colleagues. One of the men answered the door. “Can we help you, Officer?”

“May we speak with Gordon?” Miles said. “We’ve got some important information for him.”

“Sure, one moment, gents.” He approached the tall, broad-shouldered, brown-haired mayor and began whispering to him. Bricker’s dark blue eyes peered over to the suspicious-looking group. He set down some folders, straightened his tie, then came to the doors.

“Good evening, Lieutenant. How can I help you?”

“We know it’s late, Gordon, but we’ve got an emergency. Can we come in?”

Bricker looked to his partners, tilting his head to the door.

“Understood. See you tomorrow, Gordon,” they said.

After they left the office, Bricker closed the doors and they all sat at the round table. “Alright, fill me in, if you’d be so kind,” he said.

“Before we dig too deep, let me introduce a good friend of mine. This is Tarik Sandori,” Miles said.

Tarik stood up, introduced himself, and shook the mayor’s hand.

“Pleasure, Mr. Sandori. How are you involved in all this?”

“My grandson was kidnapped. We’ve come to request permission to form a search party to find him.”

Bricker folded his hands. “I see. My condolences, sir. You must be dealing with a lot of grief.”

“Is there any way you can help me?”

“Well, I have to say situations like like usually fall out of my jurisdiction. The lieutenant’s police force is more than qualified to take on a case like this.”

“No, not for this case,” Miles said softly.

“What do you mean?” Bricker said, his eyes narrowing.

Miles and Tarik met eyes briefly.

“Gordon, it’s evident that the boy was seized by some sort of monster,” Miles said.

“A monster?” Bricker dragged a hand through his thick, dark hair. “How do you know this?”

“I can tell you from past experience, Gordon. Even I couldn’t believe it at first. For the last several years, this country has been invaded by strange creatures.”

Bricker stood up and stretched his arms. “Creatures?”

They watched him walk across the room, hearing the cynicism in his voice.

“Sir, I promise you this isn’t a hoax. For the police lieutenant to come here and openly admit his forces alone aren’t enough—” Tarik said.

“I’m not outright saying I won’t help, but seriously, what can I do? My job is here, in this company, this city! Whatever goes on beyond its borders is basically out of my control.”

“That’s a bit lax, don’t you think, Gordon?” Miles said.

Bricker leaned his hands on the table. “I’d like to help, really. Outside of giving a few ‘okays’, that’s the extent of my abilities.”

“What are you saying?” Donovan said.

“I need…what I need is hard evidence of these things. I’m not in the position where I can squander time and money to go on a ghost hunt!”

Tarik stood up. “This isn’t about hunting ghosts, it’s about rescuing a helpless child! Isn’t that enough evidence? He’s been gone all day!”

Miles grabbed Tarik’s shoulder, feeling his body quivering from the emotion seething through him. “Gordon, please trust me on this. These incidents have been happening for years now.”

“Really?”

“I know this is only your second year, but him and I have a lot of history in this place. We’ve seen ‘em. There’re numerous police reports sighting those damn things.”

Bricker crossed his arms. “Lieutenant, what is it you need from me?”

“We want to enlist military aid for this. My forces alone aren’t enough.”

“The army? How far do you intend to search?”

Miles tugged his belt. “As long and far as necessary.”

Bricker’s eyes drifted between the five people seated around him. He caught a sharp stare from Donovan. “And what’s your involvement in this?”

“It’s doesn’t run as deep as these two, however I’ve heard some unsettling tales during my stint in the war. I can’t say I’ve seen these phantoms, but there’s something strange happening in this country. My advice as former mayor is to heed this warning,” Donovan replied.

The room fell silent for nearly a minute. All their eyes fell upon Bricker, who nervously shuffled some of his files. “When do you plan to start?”

“As soon as possible. All we need is your approval,” Miles said.

“Alright, granted. I don’t want to be responsible for a child’s suffering. I’ll get in touch with the armed forces. As of now you are free to begin your search, but word of this cannot leave this room. There are public safety concerns I have to address.”

“Thank you, Gordon. We’ll keep this case confidential. Let the generals know Lt. Golda is on his way. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight. Best of luck to you, Mr. Sandori.”

Tarik raised his hand. “Thank you.”

They vacated the meeting room and left for the elevator while Bricker locked the doors and walked back to his office. He sat at his desk and picked up the phone, staring at his computer while the phone call connected. “Hello? General Warden, how are you? It’s Bricker calling, I have a special assignment for you and your men. Lieutenant Miles Golda is on his way to meet you soon. It’s about a missing child…that’s what he said. No, but I need this case to stay under wraps for now. I’ll be in touch.”

The two cars wheeled out of the empty lot toward the security gates. Calla raised the barricade and they passed through. “Any luck?”

“We got the green light,” Miles said. “Now we’re headin’ to the army base. Gonna be a long night.”

“Good luck, you two.”

He and Tarik waved them off and they drove down the streets. Miles’ radio went off.

“Lieutenant, it’s Olivers.”

“What’s up?”

“I’m going to drop Donovan back at his place. I’ll catch up with you from there.”

“Donovan’s not coming along? Yeah’s that’s alright, he’s probably got work to do. Call me when you head back out.”

“Lieutenant?” Donovan said from the radio.

“Hey Donovan, everything alright?”

“Forgive me for not sticking around, but I think I can be of help by assembling more drones to scout the region.”

“That’d be immensely helpful. Can you build that many so soon though?”

“I can have at least two done by late tomorrow if I begin tonight.”

Tarik took the radio. “Thank you, Donovan. We’re gonna need all the eyes we can get.”

“Then it’s decided. Best of luck, gentlemen.”

Olivers' car soon drifted across the lanes and turned off at the next traffic light.

“Guess it’s you and me now,” Miles said. As they sat at the light he noticed a drive-through doughnut shop to the left. “You up for some coffee?”

Tarik’s fingers tapped outside the window. “Sure, only thing keepin’ me up is my anxiety.” They shared a soft chuckle and drove around the drive-through window to pick up some coffee and doughnuts. Tarik took a sip of the hot, black, two-sugar java, and nibbled on a cinnamon doughnut. “Can’t stop thinkin’ about it.”

“I’m really sorry you have to go through this,” Miles said, his lips drooping.

“Kori loves cinnamon. He always says it tickles his nose. Course, he dumps half a container in his oatmeal.”

Miles smiled. “Don’t lose faith. We’ll find him.”

Tarik looked down to the floor. “Just wish I knew why. Why’s this happening now? Ever since we went to that damn house…!”

“What, you mean your old place?”

“Yeah. We drove down there and next thing I know…it’s like all this shit’s coming back to haunt me.”

“Why? I still don’t understand how those things even got here. What else do you know about ‘em?” Tarik nervously took a sip of coffee, unresponsive. “Tarik?” Miles tapped his shoulder, making him flinch. “Whoa, what’s wrong?”

He looked at Miles, somewhat disoriented, and eventually grinned. “Sorry, guess the coffee’s kickin’ in.”

“So have you seen those things before?”

“Years ago—hordes of ‘em. Most disgusting things to ever crawl outta hell,” Tarik replied, his face crinkling.

Miles shuddered. “Are they ghosts?”

“Sort of. They’re demons from the underworld.”

“Demons? Whew, man, they must’ve spiked your coffee, eh?” He slapped Tarik’s thigh. Tarik peered at him from the corner of his eye, and Miles winced. “No…”

“Why would I lie now, Miles? This has been going on for centuries! Somehow I got stuck in the middle!”

“What exactly happened? And why are they out to get you?”

“It’s an ongoing conflict between ancient people. Believe it or not, I was one of them. They wanted to destroy us.”

“How can you be one of them? Are you their descendant?”

“Yep. That’s why I moved. Thought I could get away, but they found us. That rat-bastard found us.”

“Who?”

Tarik took another small piece of doughnut. “Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

Miles shook his head and kept his eyes on the dark highway. “Tarik, you’re one of few guys I trust when they say that.”

Tarik crinkled his hands over the bag. “Least you’re willing to believe me. What’s the deal with Bricker? He couldn’t have cared less either way.”

“Eh, he’s young, only thing he cares about is status.”

“He’ll learn how quickly status can change—and whether or not he can keep up.”

The weary, tiring friends drove across Matherland, arriving at the army base about seventy miles north of Senigot. After crossing into the Wessen region, they’d ridden through the mountainous terrain that would carry them to the base. Beyond rocky trails lie the secured, isolated base, comprised of long, angular, metal-reinforced bunkers and multi-leveled wood structures serving as barracks. Amid the sweeping fields, tall, steel fences surrounded the entire perimeter, laced with loops of barbed wire at their heights. Security and surveillance cameras suspended atop the fences rotated every few seconds, while voices periodically echoed through bullhorns mounted on tall poles across the grounds. Miles, Tarik, and Olivers parked at the main gates, where nearby a couple soldiers patrolled a security booth.

“Pardon us? My name is Miles Golda, Lieutenant of the Senigot Police. May we speak to General Tilda?”

The patrol inside the booth slid his window open. “What is this in reference to?”

“Mayor Bricker granted us permission to form a search party to resolve a missing person report. We’d like to enlist some of your men.”

“I’ll call my superiors. Give me a minute,” the soldier said.

While he spoke on the phone, Miles leaned against the hood, folding his arms. Tarik remained inside, looking at pictures of him and Kori on his cell phone. Miles tapped the window, making him fidget. Tarik cracked the car door open. “What’s up?”

“Looks like General Tilda’s about to come greet us. Hop on out.”

Tarik rubbed his face and stood up, shaking his numbing legs. Olivers came over and waited with them. The solider left the booth and approached them. “He’s on his way out now. Pretty surprising for him to get a call like this so late.”

“What, this has never happened before?” Tarik said.

“Only a couple times a year, really. Usually don’t occur this late at night.”

“It actually happened this afternoon. Had to jump through some hoops to get here,” Tarik said irately.

From the other side of the gates came three men, two of which flanked the general. Mid-forties with clean, buzzed black hair and a chiseled, slender physique, Glenn Tilda saluted the other soldier. “Evening, everyone. Lieutenant Golda, I must say, this request of yours is pretty alarming.”