G.H.O.S.T. Teams: Book 1 - Magic (2 page)

I stopped mid sentence as a discreet pain snuck into my skull. I am not entirely sure how to describe the feeling. Think of an ice cream headache, only subtler, and then pretend that someone was trying to tug that sensation out of your head with a thread. Instinctively I twitched my shoulder, causing a shuriken to fall from my sleeve and into my right hand, where it sat in-between my fingers ready to fly. I touched my left hand to my temple, massaging it, as I turned to face the man who seemed to be concentrating just a little too hard. The sensation stopped as soon as I made eye contact with him. Needless to say, I can be very expressive with my eyes. This was obviously the team mentalist.

“It would be better if that didn’t happen again,” I smirked.

Before he could react a twitch in my wrist sent my throwing star back into hiding and I turned to face Freddy.

“Who’s the mind freak?” I asked, pointing my thumb at the gentleman in question.

“I hardly think that mind freak is an appropriate term, Mr. Chang. Daniel Frost is our team mentalist. A graduate of the esteemed Military Mental Core…” Freddy started.

“I actually prefer Danny,” a cocky voice interrupted from behind me.

I glanced over at Dutton to see how he was reacting to my attitude. His thin lips formed a wide and satisfied smile. If I were to guess, I would say that Dutton was enjoying these reactions. Perhaps he found it amusing. I am not a fan of amusing people. Well, that is not entirely true. Comedy comes in very handy, with the ladies.

“Danny,” I said as I turned to face him again, “you will probably sleep better at night if you don’t have to see what’s in here,” I finished as I tapped my finger on my temple.

Danny was young, barely out of his teens, with a thin black mustache visible against his olive skin. He was about five-foot-eight and in decent shape. He had short cut black hair and dark eyes. He wore a cheap gray suit over a matching tie and white collared shirt.

His cocky smile widened, “Something tells me I can handle it, as a matter of…” I cut him off.

“Before you proceed and surely fail to impress me, I find myself wondering if you can read a mind without being so obvious about it?” I smiled.

That struck a nerve. His smile faded and a little pain came into his eyes. He started to reply but must have thought better of it. I turned back to Freddy.

“So I am guessing that means he didn’t graduate at the top of his class from the academy?”

“Mr. Frost is quite capable, contrary to your inference,” Freddy responded with a small smile of pride on his face as he talked, “He is an asset to our team. In fact the Mental Core commended him on his ability…” again I cut him off.

“Time will tell, I guess. And this is?” I asked as I took the brunette’s hand.

She looked Native American, and if you’ll forgive the assumption, that made me think she was our team tracker.

“Erika, Erika Blackstone. It’s nice to finally meet you Mr. Chang, we have heard many stories,” she finished with a devious smile.

I had a horrible feeling that these ladies had been warned about my flirtatious advances. But there is a big difference between being prepared for something and actually dealing with it. I gave her my most charming smile.

“Please, call me Bruce, a first name is the least I can offer since we are standing on the land that my people stole from you,” I said with a cheesy grin.

“To be fair,” she shrugged, “the Cherokee lands were south of here. But I would be happy to scalp you just the same,” she said with a frighteningly cute smile.

Was there anything sexier than a woman with a good sense of humor? It was going to be very hard to focus on this team. I wondered if I could request uglier teammates?

“I will keep that in mind. It’s always nice to know that there are other people on the team who can handle themselves in a fight,” I smiled.

She continued to smile, as I looked her over. Her long dark hair was pulled back into a braid, revealing smooth, lightly tanned skin. She had small dark eyes, a narrow nose, and full lips. She wore dark jeans, black boots, and a black suit jacket over a tan collared shirt complimenting her athletic frame. She stood five foot six, which was close to her actual height since her boots were practical with flat soft soles. I could tell from her stance and general demeanor that she knew how to handle herself. Erika had definitely been in a fight or two. I was happy to have a Native American tracker on the team. Stereotypes aside, I had heard from numerous sources that they were the best, a perfect blend of natural skill and supernatural understanding. I decided right then and there that her tight-jeans were also a huge asset to the team. As much as I would have preferred to continue conversing with Erika, it only seemed polite that I meet the final member of the little group.

He was a young Japanese man, standing five-foot-six with a very skinny frame. He had on a black silk shirt and black slacks. From his shiny shoes to his flashy watch it was obvious that he took a great deal of pride in his appearance. Carefully parted and styled hair fell down to the top of his designer frames. While he was working hard to achieve a cool vibe, he was obviously the team tech nerd.

“Timothy Tanaka at your service. Or T2 if you prefer,” he said.

I shook his hand and debated on whether the nickname deserved a response. I decided on a more pressing question.

“How old are you?”

He gave a slight scoff before answering, “I’ll be nineteen in two weeks B-man.”

I attempted to ignore the lame nickname. I guess we didn’t have an age limit. I have always appreciated an organization that recognizes skill above and beyond age and experience. That being said, I still worried about taking a kid into battle, so I turned towards Dutton.

“Isn’t he kind of young for this line of work?”

Froedrick of course was the one to speak up.

“Mr. Tanaka is a master hacker. He has over ten years of experience and has probably forgotten more about electronic security systems then most of us will ever know,” he squealed.

It was clear that Freddy didn’t appreciate me questioning the abilities of the team. As if he had a sense of ownership, he took a great deal of pride in the team. It was in that moment that something frightening occurred to me, they expected him to be our leader. That would not do.

“What a minute, are you in charge?” I asked him.

Freddy gave a smile and stood up a little straighter.

“That is correct Mr. Chang. If you were to look back throughout the history of our organization, I think you will find that most often the Keeper of Lore is the lead member of a GHOST Team. We have, after all, devoted our entire lives to the study of the supernatural,” he finished with his head held high.

“Freddy, I in no way doubt your Dungeon Master skills. It’s simply your combat prowess that I am a little worried about. Have you ever actually met any of these creatures that we’re going to face?”

“Of course. As part of my graduate work I studied the Highland Brownies in their natural habitat. Did you know that the mating cycle of the female Brownie is perfectly synced to the phases of the moon?” he asked.

“No, I didn’t know that and I’m kind of sad that I know it now. Exactly how big and scary are these Brownies?”

Freddy laughed, “They are not scary at all. The Brownie rarely grows over five inches tall. In fact when I was there, I noticed a rather fascinating…”

“So, you think that prepared you to battle vampires and trolls and such?”

“I uh,” he started, a complete lack of confidence in his voice, “I’m very well read on vampires and over a dozen species of troll. In fact, of the three species of troll native to this area, only one…”

“Relax Freddy,” I said patting him on the shoulder, “I’m sure you’ll do fine. Let the Brownies of the world beware,” I finished with a hint of sarcasm in my voice.

Several members of the team tried to hide their laughter. Freddy turned towards them and was about to re-explain himself when I stopped him.

“Just giving you a hard time pal. What do you say we go save the world now?” I grinned.

That brought a smile to Freddy’s face. I gave Dutton a quick salute and started towards the door, the team falling in behind me. It was then that Dutton spoke up.

“Chang, we are not done yet. The rest of you may go,” Dutton barked.

I didn’t like the sound of that. I’d just met my team and already I was in trouble. I guess I shouldn’t have flirted with the girls until we were out of Dutton’s office, an important note for next time. I waited while the rest of the team made their way out of the office, the double doors closing behind them. Turning to face Dutton, I made my next statement with as much respect as I could get into my voice. After all, he was the boss.

“Yes sir?”

He took a couple of puffs on his cigar and leaned back further in his chair causing the appropriate creak. He pulled the cigar out of his mouth and held it between his fingers, using it to point at me while he spoke.

“Give em a chance, they are a good bunch,” he said.

“You mean the bookworm who fights brownies or the computer nerd just out of diapers? Of course I guess they are better than the mentalist who can’t read a mind without letting the subject know. Is that the good bunch you’re referring too sir?” I stated as matter-of-factly as possible.

I added the sir so he would know that I was trying to be respectful. In my defense, I never had a boss before, so I was using TV cop shows as the basis for how I was allowed to talk to him. Luckily for me, he seemed somewhat amused by my rant, the barest hints of a smile playing on his lips.

“What they lack in combat experience they make up for in knowledge. You have seen enough bloodshed for ten lifetimes. You cannot expect them to possess the same amount of experience. They will learn, given time,” he replied slowly.

“And in the meantime I am supposed to follow Freddy into battle?”

“On paper Mr. Blair is in charge. But you are responsible for their safety. Keep em alive Chang,” he said.

“Yes Sir,” I couldn’t help but sigh when I said it.

He put the cigar back in his mouth and spun slowly around in his chair.

“Dismissed,” he snarled.

With that I spun on my heels and walked out the large double door, letting it close behind me. They were standing there waiting for me, curiosity on all five of their faces as they wondered what Dutton’s parting words were about. I felt that in the spirit of teamwork, I should probably tell them something.

“Dutton says you ladies need to stop flirting with me, we have serious work to do,” I said straight faced.

Both ladies gave me a look and rolled their eyes, before turning towards each other as if saying something in secret inaudible girl talk. Danny snickered and Freddy looked lost. I really hoped that Danny wasn’t going to be the only one who ever found me amusing.

“Okay team, let’s roll out,” I said.

Timothy giggled and gave me a nod. Clearly he was happy to be part of the autobots. Freddy smiled and appeared to take my statement as a cue that we were following his lead. He stood up straight and led the way back towards the elevator.

“Okay GHOSTs, it’s time to get started,” he gleamed.

They headed down the hall towards the elevator and I brought up the rear. Big things were coming. I could feel it. This morning Vlad felt it too. He said there were heavy vibrations on the ethereal plane. A large battle brewing between good and evil and I was about to be flung into the middle of it. I wasn’t too proud of the last few years of my life, but today was when I started to set the karmic balance right. This was going to be an exciting day.

A three-hour meeting, an hour-long car ride, and staring at a dead body were not quite the high-octane start that I expected to this adventure. The meeting was unnecessarily long because Freddy decided to demonstrate his vast knowledge and provide a tangent ridden explanation of the situation. Erika drove the van, and although her abilities behind the wheel seemed impressive, traffic leaving DC was being especially harsh today.

The crime scene was just past one of the scenic turn offs on the GW Parkway. We were in a nice wooded area, slopping downhill towards the Potomac River. The body wasn’t visible from the road, but once we got out of the van and looked things over, the situation seemed to confirm what the three-hour meeting had taught us, the guy was dead.

According to the little bit that I gleaned from Freddy’s ramblings, this was the problem. This particular man was immortal, a fact that seemed to be in direct conflict with his current state. As the six of us approached the crime scene a uniformed Park Police Officer checked our IDs before ushering us under the police tape. A tall, heavyset, black man in his mid-forties, slightly graying hair, wearing a blue suit and gray trench coat turned to greet us.

“Detective Thomas Shaw,” he introduced himself, “and as much as I appreciate you boys deciding to help us poor park cops with our crimes, I’m gonna tell you what I told your boss. We can handle one dead body,” he stated sarcastically.

This type of reaction was to be expected from the regular police on the scene. In their mind, we were the enemy. We weren’t actually at odds, but as you’ve seen accurately portrayed on TV, cops hate it when someone claims jurisdiction and steals their case. But according to our badges, we worked for the SIA, which meant that we could basically claim jurisdiction anywhere and anytime we wanted. Such is the power of National Security. Even though the Park Police were basically federal cops, they still had to step aside once we swooped in. I was hoping that the officer would understand and just leave it at that. But once Freddy opened his mouth in an attempt to explain things, I had a feeling that his people skills were going to make matters worse.

“Detective Shaw, while your efforts are appreciated, you must understand that as a matter of National Security this case could not simply be left up to the Park …” he was cut off.

“Why, is he a zombie or something?” Shaw scoffed.

Shaw was speaking loud enough for the uniformed cops in the area to hear, which caused a chorus of laughter to surround us. It was understandable. I should probably explain what the SIA originally stood for. The Supernatural Investigations Agency was created in 1937 by an Executive Order from FDR. Roosevelt believed that Hitler’s obsession with the paranormal needed to be dealt with, thus the SIA was born. That order still stands today, giving the SIA supreme jurisdiction over every other law enforcement agency in the US. Unfortunately the rest of the law enforcement community considers us a joke. After all, to the regular citizen, there were no such things as ghosts and goblins. In the late sixties the name of our organization was officially changed to the Special Investigations Agency. They thought that it would help us gain more respect. But memories last a lifetime and people haven’t forgotten our roots, so we were still considered by many to be the joke of the policing community.