The Unknown Element: An Action-Packed Supernatural Thriller (Challenged World Book 1) Read online

  “Do you fear, Francois?” asked Nadine, turning to the priest.

  “I have confronted such evil many times before.” He blew smoke at the ceiling and paused. “No. Perhaps not entirely true. I have confronted spiritual evil. Possessions. And once, perhaps, the physical form. But not in a manner that allowed me to gain a great deal of insight.”

  “Care to elaborate?” asked Nadine.

  “I have trained myself to deal with demons as I best understand them. My assistance with exorcisms brings, it should be noted, both resolve and battle scars,” said Francois. He paused to take a sip. “Some of the victims moved most definitely against nature’s laws—levitations, inordinate strength, and knowledge of things impossible to know. These experiences form a foundation for our current situation. Comprenez vous?”

  Nadine turned to her keyboard and entered a few strokes. Search parameters needed refinement, one of the great allures of her work. The human/machine interface was everything. She sniffed a trail and Moloch couldn’t hide. Run, certainly, but not hide. Several of the computer screens began quick, flickering search patterns. She sat back and returned her gaze to Francois.

  “And the answer you wait for regarding fear,” Francois said. “One cannot view it as a one-dimensional emotion. Within the components of my quest, then of course some elements of fear exist. Fear of failure. Fear of weakness.”

  “Are you afraid of Moloch?” asked Nadine.

  This Frenchman was meandering around the core question, and enough was enough. She wanted Cole to hear that uncertainty and fear were okay emotions.

  “I do not know him,” said Francois.

  “Then let me review,” said Nadine. Her flip-flop began a new triple beat. “Walking evil that can leverage free will and commit physical acts. Worst of both worlds. I’m not saying I buy into it, but if I did, the actuality would sure scare me.”

  Francois’s gaze moved from Nadine to Cole. He took a sip of whiskey and said, “One must accept Mademoiselle’s irritation as a matter of emotional attachment. She most certainly feels a need to protect you, Sheriff. I fully understand this as a matter of the heart. And I, in her estimation, have presented you discomfort and perhaps spiritual pain. Such has not been my intention.”

  The flip-flop increased tempo. “Thanks for the Oprah moment, Padre. Now, about that fear. Topic of the moment.”

  “Then, yes. I have some level of concern. Of fear,” said Francois.

  She took in Cole as he absorbed Francois’s admission. The slight relaxation of his body position indicated some level of newfound comfort. There was no point in her bringing it up, but the priest was no pushover. If that guy felt fear, with all his knowledge and experiences, then she hoped Cole could see that he had a kindred spirit, someone else who felt what he probably did.

  Nadine turned back to her computers, input data, and refined criteria. Francois took the opportunity to address Cole.

  “Are you well, mon ami?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, and tilted the bottle to refill his glass.

  She knew he wasn’t. Anyone could see that. This whole construct had thrown him a curve ball, and he sat there doing his strong, silent thing. Couldn’t he see that she cared deeply for him? She could help him through this tough situation if he wasn’t too hard-headed or too drunk to open the door and let it happen.

  “Any person would get rattled by this, Cole. Any person. Just because he”—she paused to raise a taut arm and point at Francois—“thinks he has the tools and techniques to deal with the unexplainable doesn’t mean he has any better grip on this than you do.”

  Francois responded by lighting another cigarette.

  “Alright,” said Cole. He held up both hands, palms facing Nadine. “I’m fine. Really. And it’s not Francois’s fault that all this has happened. He’s helpful. A little weird in some respects, but helpful. I’m just tired and need to digest all this. Shall we call it a night?”

  Francois’s eyes grew wide at the “a little weird” comment, but he remained silent.

  “No,” said Nadine. “Not yet. What’s the plan? Do either of you have the foggiest notion of a plan?”

  “I plan to go get some sleep,” said Cole. “I want to get to the hotel and crash.”

  “Oui,” said Francois. “A good night’s sleep. We shall reconvene in the morning. Let us allow the computers to do their work, whatever that might mean. Searching. Finding our Monsieur Moloch. Identifying his location. Then, of course, I shall have great gratitude toward you both for your most excellent assistance and I shall depart. I shall assume an acceptable breakfast exists nearby?”

  Nadine had other plans. This endeavor held intrigue like no other in her career. Something different was going on, something she hadn’t dealt with before. Cole seemed to vacillate between the whole demon thing and the hard facts sought by a lawman, and that mental ping-pong game was understandable. But in previous pursuits of justice she had seen in him absolute doggedness—a man hard, focused, and keen. Now he appeared to hesitate. This priest, on the other hand, was resolute, smart, committed, and surely a bit of a pain in the rear. But Cole would come around. She had faith in him. She could help him regain his justice-seeking ferocity as long as it didn’t wash away his gentle side, which would be less likely if she could hang with him as leavening to the mix. It might stretch her social skills, but she had an advantage given the relatively pure simplicity of the man she would be helping. Simplicity in a good way—she knew Cole wasn’t stupid.

  “I have a better plan,” said Nadine. “I’ll pinpoint this creep. Then the three of us go after him.”

  Spur of the moment wasn’t her usual approach, but this instance called for the injection of new options. The situational stasis needed a kick in the rear and she was the one to deliver it. Besides, her whole living in a box thing had become more and more an issue in her life. If this holing-up and playing super-sleuth behind closed doors constituted the entire future, well then, she figured, screw that and carpe diem.

  “In a sense, I would agree,” said Francois. “You possess very capable skills. I would most greatly appreciate your help when the time comes, but your help delivered from this location for the purposes of providing information, if such a thing is required.”

  She had seen that coming a mile away. She was to play the role of the priest’s little helper, cranking out salient information at his bidding and accommodating his timelines, just like others who had tried the same tack many times before. It irritated her to no end. When others relegated her to an informational spigot, they overlooked her ability to solve things, piece things together, and get things done.

  “Not going to happen,” said Nadine. She turned and headed into the kitchen to put on some coffee, pausing long enough to address Cole. “We all need to go after this guy, right?”

  He looked up with a wry smile and stretched. “Credit where credit is due, Nadine. You’ve pointed out the obvious, which I somehow shoved to the side.” He popped his neck, some element of fire back in his eyes. His body language indicated returning resolve. He turned to Francois and nodded. She knew that was a man-signal of some kind, so it was time to nip that business in the bud, because it inevitably led to her being left out.

  “I’m not a mind reader, cowboy,” she said. “What’s the obvious thing?”

  “I need to stop fiddle-farting around and chase this sumbitch, whatever he is. I’m the Sheriff of by-God Aransas County. This is what I do. You’ve been pointing that out while I sat here a bit dazed and confused. So, thanks, Nadine.”

  “What does that translate to, exactly?” she asked. Big smile from Cole, which was good to see because it contained life and fire and determination.

  “It translates to demon or not, Moloch’s fixin’ to find out I’m on his tail.”

  “Good. Now you might remember from about seventeen seconds ago that I said the three of us. Please don’t parrot the ‘little lady can sit here and do her thing’ that Francois just tossed on the ta
ble.”

  “Well, he has a point,” said Cole. “You could help a lot doing what you do right here. I’m sure the Vatican would pay for your services, right, Francois?”

  She snorted and proceeded to the kitchen. Kitchen cabinets opened and slammed shut.

  “Let’s get back to my plan,” she said, in the general direction of the two men. “It is sound. I carry a laptop and can perform what I do best anywhere. Plus, I can input my visual perspective as a set of added data points.”

  Silence answered her. Nadine plowed ahead.

  “So, I’ll find him. I always do, and then off we go. Easy, peasy.”

  “I cannot allow this,” said Francois, loud enough to carry into the kitchen. “Danger exists at every turn. I cannot allow harm to come to you. The sheriff, one must assume, has faced such dangers before. If he is committed, then it shall be.”

  Conversation halted. Coffee cups clanged and Nadine strolled back in with three steaming mugs.

  “Not up to you to allow, Francois,” she said. “Three black coffees. I remember you liked stevia, Cole, but I don’t have any. I need to try that stuff. Comes from a South American plant.” She placed a mug in front of the two men, kept hers, and reached down to take a smoke from the pack Francois had left on the table. She did not ask if she could.

  “Keys to the kingdom, compadres. That’s what I’ve got,” she said and waved her hand at the computer equipment. “Keys. To. The. Kingdom. So here’s the deal. I’ll find him. Then Cole and I join in the chase. Sabe?” She plopped down in her chair with satisfaction.

  Francois emitted a low groan as he leaned forward to collect his coffee. Mule’s tail flicked. Cole kept his eyes on Nadine, smiled, and said, “You are one piece of work, Nadine.”

  “Athos, Aramis, and Porthos,” said Nadine, her smile wide and attitude smug.

  She could bet Cole and Francois got the Three Musketeers reference, although neither acknowledged it.

  Francois took a loud sip of coffee. “Mademoiselle. Please. I beg you. Your plan. Layered with danger.”

  Cole poured some of the liquor in his coffee, apparently bemused at the outcome. “She’s fixed on it, Francois. Ain’t much point arguing. I speak from experience.”

  His sanguine appearance gave her hope they would hunt together. She assumed Cole would take the lead when it came time to confront Moloch, which was okay since neither she nor the priest had that type of experience. But the whole pursuit thing was smack dab in the middle of her bailiwick … or at least the locating and tracking part was, and sometimes it simply felt good to be the critical element of a team.

  Francois closed his eyes, apparently in prayer. He then took a loud swallow of coffee, slapped his knees, and rose quickly to his feet, startling Mule. “Bon. So it shall be. It is perhaps part of God’s plan for me. And you, Mademoiselle, give definition to formidable. This said, I of course will lead.”

  Cole clearly opted not to argue the point at this time, while Nadine did not care, since leadership tended to be fluid and situational.

  Nadine said, “All good, Cole. Life is a cavalcade.”

  Cole returned a quizzical look.

  “Or maybe it’s a carousel. Either way, see you in the morning bright and early. You, too, Francois.”

  ***

  Headed down the creaky outside stairs as Nadine stood in the open doorway, the two men paused.

  “A most serious endeavor,” said Francois.

  Cole took in the damp night air. The temperature had dropped to the mid-eighties. A thunder buster moved from the Gulf toward Houston, and sheet lightning filled the eastern sky. Low rumbles of thunder followed.

  “Yep. It is. That woman with the stroller,” said Cole. “You reckon Moloch had his hand in that?”

  “Oui.”

  The fresh smell of approaching rain filled the air. Cole lifted his head and inhaled deeply. “So, you’re planning to rely on God when we find this guy?”

  Francois gave a serious nod in response.

  “And what if God doesn’t feel like kicking tail at that moment. What then?”

  Francois cast his gaze toward the sky’s lightshow as the storm gathered. “This I do not know, mon ami. This I do not know.”

  Chapter 16

  The call came at six in the morning. Cole rolled over and checked the caller ID and saw the name Nadine.

  “Off to Wales, cowboy,” she said, with far too much cheer.

  Cole gathered himself. “You found Moloch?”

  “Ye of little faith. He arrived in Cardiff. Grab the priest and come over. I’ll do more digging on Moloch’s background. So far, it’s sparse. He may be using an alias.”

  “Okay. Fine. Good work as always,” said Cole. “We’ll hustle over there in an hour.”

  “I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to this,” said Nadine, hanging up.

  Why couldn’t the sumbitch have landed in Albuquerque or Memphis? The overseas pursuit thing added complexity and time. Plus, there were a couple of phone calls he would have to make about that, but all-in-all he began to feel better. Nadine had delivered something concrete. The lawman in him began to rise.

  Francois received Cole’s door knock attired in a silk robe.

  “Let’s get to Nadine’s,” said Cole. “She’s ID’d Moloch. He’s in Wales. Cardiff.”

  Francois showed a fire in his eyes, nodded, and turned to pack. Cole did the same. Wales became a destination. In hindsight it made sense that the guy would leave the US. Moloch traveled on a foreign passport, so exiting the US and its large law enforcement network was a rational move. Why the SOB picked Wales to run to, or what his plans were, mattered less than the fact Cole would have the opportunity to confront him. He began to give serious thought to how the team would operate together, and how the other two might assist in the confrontation.

  They hurried to Nadine’s. She met them at the door to her apartment with the admonition, “We have to eat in a hurry. The plane leaves in three hours.” She had just returned from a nearby breakfast restaurant with takeout dishes of scrambled eggs, biscuits, gravy, sausage, and fruit.

  They talked about Moloch’s whereabouts and the lack of any deeper information on him.

  “Slim pickings,” said Nadine. “But he’s traveling on a Syrian passport. I know someone over there. He may help.”

  This was something he’d have to get used to. Nadine knew folks all over the world from her work projects. He’d never worked with spies or that clandestine world, but her contacts could come in mighty handy now that the chase pointed overseas.

  “So you bought the tickets already?” asked Cole. “You need to know there’s a budget available from the governor’s office.”

  “And from the Vatican,” said Francois, serving himself food and apparently contemplating the rationale behind the gravy.

  “Not a problem. I’ll invoice both. First one to pay gets a discount on my labor bill,” said Nadine.

  “The audit division in Austin will love that,” said Cole, exhibiting for Francois the use of gravy as something poured over biscuits. Francois watched, having waved a hand at the minor issue of money and budgets.

  “What about the cat?” asked Cole. He liked animals, especially dogs, but cats had their place, and Nadine was openly affectionate toward the gnarly critter she kept in her apartment.

  “The name is Mule. Mule the cat. MTC. Got a friend to take care of him,” said Nadine. “Plus, he’s a guard cat. He’ll protect the place.”

  Cole didn’t think that too far-fetched, given the Francois-Mule stare downs.

  Nadine had purchased first class tickets, one way. The flight traveled from Houston to Amsterdam, followed by a straight shot to Cardiff. They would arrive the next morning, Greenwich Mean Time. She explained the logic of one-way tickets, given their trip may well include other stops as evidenced by her past tracking of field agents.

  “Man, I feel so alive,” she said. “The whole idea of field operations after all these years of sol
ving criminal puzzles from a distance gives me a high. Life is good.”

  Cole had never seen her so buzzed; she almost danced around the room.

  On the way to the airport, Cole made several phone calls. The first to R.L., his best deputy, and an explanation he would be gone for a few days. He made clear R.L.’s job consisted of holding down the fort until he got back. A conversation with Mayor Remmy followed.

  “Adele, it’s not a big deal. R.L. is quite capable,” said Cole.

  “That’s all fine. I’m glad you’re taking some time off, albeit mighty close to the wrap-up of our disaster.”

  She had a point, and he acknowledged it. But Adele was sympathetic and, as Cole well knew, very competent. Given the abilities of R.L. and Adele he wouldn’t be leaving Rockport in a tight spot.

  The last call would be a bugger. Jeeter Johnson required some handling and the overseas component would raise hackles. He sat in the backseat of Nadine’s car, feeling the heat of Houston blow over him. The windows, as usual, remained rolled down.

  “Sir, Sheriff Garza,” said Cole.

  “Son, you sound like you’re in a hurricane.”

  “Sorry. Hold on just a second,” said Cole. Cupping the cell phone against his chest, he said to the front seat occupants, “Windows, folks. Can’t hear a thing on the phone.”

  “Fine,” said Nadine, using one hand to raise her and Francois’s windows and the other to fiddle with the AC controls. Cole didn’t think it wise for her to steer with her knees as Houston traffic sped alongside, but he remained silent on the subject. Francois shook his head and tossed his lit cigarette out the window just prior to it closing.