Bat and the Blitz by A. Gregory
Klaus
You’ve got to be fucking joking.
I try to keep my body still, but my legs are itching, developing a mind of their own. Hell, even my fingers are twitching. Every single particle of my body is vibrating with barely contained annoyance, right down to the hair in my beard. With all of the professionalism I can muster, I clear my throat and run a hand back through my shoulder-length hair. I pull hard when my fingers hit a tangle, but the pain offers no relief from T-Bone’s words.
“I’m not sure I understand,” I say through almost unclenched teeth, leaning back against the chair.
Agent T-Bone Thrussel, a Highland cattle shifter a few years older than me, leans back in his own seat with a sigh. He’s almost as tall and built as me.
Even his beard wants to rival mine.
Yet, we are as similar as we are different.
Where T-Bone has a beard, clean-cut hair, and a buttoned-up attitude that screams Type A anal-retentive, I’m a tatted-up, long-haired motorcycle-owning, rule-breaking agent.
That’s probably why T-Bone has something I don’t have: a position of authority.
Not that I would ever want to be in his shoes. The man left the RCMP to work with the Furry United Coalition a little while ago. He’s already heading up his very own – and brand-new – task force. He’s quite literally a golden boy. Not only because of his blond hair but because Director Cooper seems to have a soft spot for him.
That means pissing T-Bone off will only get me into a shouting match with the boss lady.
I don’t want that. Not again. Not so soon after the little hiccup on my last mission. I’m on thin ice with Director Cooper, but what else is new? She was aware of what she was getting when she hired me. I’ve never claimed to be a team player, patient, or even law-abiding.
T-Bone shakes his head when I ask for more clarification. “Look, Klaus. I know you’ve got this whole loner thing going for you. You don’t like working with a partner, and I get it. I do. This isn’t negotiable, however. What’s going on in the world right now is too important to be left up to only one person.”
I bite down hard on my teeth. T-Bone might say he gets it, but he doesn’t.
No one does.
I don’t merely hate working with a partner. I can’t.
Sitting around to discuss strategies and taking the time to let someone else in on my plans and theories takes way too damn long.
Too much wasted energy sitting around blabbering. Not enough action.
“I’m sure if you tell me what the mission is, I can set your mind at ease that I can do it alone.”
Talk, talkety-talk. Just some useless words, wasting precious time.
T-Bone doesn’t appear remotely convinced. He huffs out a breath and rubs a hand across his beard. “Not a chance. I chose you specifically for this mission because of your no-nonsense attitude. We need it in this case. I can’t send someone who will be roped into the celebrity and magic of it all. Besides, you have an advantage here.”
I have no idea what that means, but it doesn’t matter. I don’t work with a partner. Forget those harried detectives in the movies who don’t work well with others because they’re the loose cannons. I’m not the loose cannon. It’s the partners I’ve been given over my career who are sketchy and inconsistent. Each one is denser than the last.
“T-Bone, let me assure you. Me working with someone else will only make things complicated.”
“No, this is too important for one person.”
It’s my turn to arch a brow, but I don’t insist anymore. The man is a second away from calling the director. I can feel his impatience down to the marrow of my bones.
“You’re going up north to protect Santa Claus.” T-Bone delivers the assignment like he’s delivering a death sentence. Not a joke. His face is stern and worried, which is the only indication that this might not actually be a joke.
I chuckle, nervous for the first time in a long time. “I don’t get it.”
This cannot be real. This isn’t happening.
“You know what I’m saying, Klaus. Don’t make me elaborate.”
“You can’t be serious.”
T-Bone gets to his feet and begins pacing his office. “I don’t need to tell you that up in the very north of the country, there is a small village. It’s fly-in only unless you have a sleigh. It’s Christmas Town. The Christmas Town. Santa lives there with his elves. The townspeople all have jobs in the toy industry, too.”
He’s got to know that I’m all too familiar with this. The only person in the world who knows who I am and where I come from is Director Alyce Cooper. I’m getting the serious impression that T-Bone knows now, too.
I cross my arms to keep from bouncing out of my chair and quitting my job. I’ve had a good run working for FUC. I can quit. Go do something else where no one knows my history.
That’s not exactly right, though.
I’m not qualified for much of anything else.
“I’m sure you’re aware of that legend.” T-Bone’s eyes plead with me to jump in.
I don’t. I really don’t want to have this conversation.
T-Bone winces at my silence but goes on. “A long time ago, an adventurer supposedly found the Holy Grail.”
I blink at him before snorting dryly as he continues.
“The Holy Grail. Just like in Indiana Jones and the Arthurian tales. This chalice is a sacred relic that dates back to pre-Christian times. Of course, they took the myth and ran with it. This cup is said to be forged in a blessed and hallowed metal that gives the drinker immortality.”
I’m not simply frowning. I’m downright glaring at T-Bone. I don’t appreciate the joke, but I’m seriously waiting for him to start laughing.
The man needs a better sense of humor, or I need one, full-stop.
“A legend states that the Holy Grail was melted into a gold wreath and kept in Christmas Town. It gives the village and Santa their magic, or so it’s believed. The wreath has always been safe up there. It’s so cold and so remote the tale barely made it to the general public.”
I open my mouth to comment but snap it shut. I literally have no comeback for this. Besides, the more I say, the lower my chances are of talking my way out of this.
“We can’t let anyone get their hands on that wreath. Whether the fable is true or not doesn’t matter. No one wants Vitality Holdings to get their hands on it.”
“Still not sure what the hell this has to do with me,” I lie.
“Ever since the Bloody Doctor’s research was posted online by her maniacal sidekick Oscar Trow, there has been an increase in immortality chasers. First, it was with the Bloody Doctor’s blood work. These people thought they could use blood to live forever. Then, a few months ago, they moved on. They tried to prove immortality could be found in shifter and plant genome.”
Right. I’d heard about that. One of the newly minted agents was sent to babysit a scientist, and the next thing they knew, the mad botanist turned into a pumpkin. The damn thing grew legs and arms. It was a damn nightmare to witness. The evil plot to use plants to live forever found a way to infiltrate the Cryptozoian Council. One of the agents there was being blackmailed.
A pair of lunatics, calling themselves Hera and Zeus, injected the agent with a toxin that would kill her unless she had an antidote every day. So long as she listened to the instructions given to her by her blackmailers, she would remain alive.
Silence and cooperation for her life.
That was the bargain.
It’s hard to believe. I wouldn’t have gone for it. At all. You couldn’t pay me enough to make me betray FUC.
Even if that payment was my own damn life.
“You’re gonna be heading up to Christmas Town with Agent Raya Slaski. Your mission is to guard the wreath and make sure no one steals it.”
I burst out laughing.
How could I not? This was a joke. It had to be.
“What’s so funny?” T-Bone asks, frowning deep.
“You just told me you want me to go back to Christmas Town to guard the wreath and to keep Santa safe.”
T-Bone shook his head. “You’re making it sound really ridiculous.”
“’Cause it is.”
“No. It’s not. We’re trying to get ahead of these Hera and Zeus characters. We’ve got no idea who they are. All we know is what they want. Immortality. Director Cooper decided that the best course of action is to make sure that every single tall tale or legend about immortality be safeguarded from these immortality chasers.”
“Wait.” Klaus shook his head. “You really think that someone will walk into Christmas Town and steal this gold wreath during the holiday season? The Holy Grail legend isn’t even true.”
T-Bone nodded. “Be that as it may, Director Cooper wants to be safe. Besides, the holiday season would be the best time to abscond with the wreath. The town gets flooded with visitors and workers who visit Christmas Town, thinking it’s nothing more than a gimmicky tourist destination. It would be the best time to sneak in and blend in with the higher number of unfamiliar faces.” He pauses, taking the time to sit back into his chair, crossing his arms and giving me one hell of a stare-down. “Good thing it’s your hometown. You’ll have an advantage.”
And just like that, I have to go back home for the first time since I was eighteen years old.
Fuck.