“Suits,” Janea said, climbing into bed. “Given who your God is, I won’t ask if you’ve considered switch.”
“Don’t start, Janea,” Barb said, pulling out her toiletries and heading to the bathroom.
“I’m just saying,” Janea said, raising her voice. “Cleaving only unto should only be for guys! Girls are just, you know, comfort!”
“He knows where you live, Janea!”
“Hey, I’m on the side of light!” Janea shouted as the shower started. “This is like praying for me! It’s holy worship! I’m just talking snuggling, honest!”
When there was no response Janea snorted and turned off the light.
“Teach her to run out on me…”
Mike Argyll, the leader of the cave rescue team, was not the smallest person Barb had ever seen, but that was because she had once met a midget. He was under five feet in height, but burly and hirsute with shaggy black hair and beard to match.
“Now that our second outside consultant is here,” the team leader said, “can we actually do the brief?”
Although Barb and Janea were still based down by Knoxville, the FBI had more or less taken over a motel near the crime scene as a base station. Still forty-five minutes from the trailer, it was the closest hotel with facilities for meetings. The “Cave Examination Team” was gathered in one of the meeting rooms, going through a hasty brief before the penetration.
“Go,” Graham said, taking a sip of coffee.
“Okay, I’m told that this penetration has special issues,” Argyll said. “But caves are caves. Caves can and will kill you if you let them. The answer is to not let them. The biggest thing is simply safety. Caves have sudden drop- offs that, despite your lights, you’re going to tend to miss. That’s why I’ll be leading the penetration.”
“Nope,” Barb said, sucking at her own coffee. She needed it. “I’m going to have to take point.”
Lazarus was curled up on the table in front of her, watching the briefing with what certainly looked like lively interest. At the insertion by Barb he mewed as if in agreement.
“I’m sorry,” Mike said, wriggling a finger in his ear. “Did you just miss what I said?”
There were dozens of cavers in the local area, and once the word got around that it was possible the “perpetrator” had taken the girl into a cave, all of them wanted to help out. But the FBI, due to the “Special” nature of the investigation, had called in a group they worked with that was national quality. The team consisted not only of Mike but of two assistants, either one of whom could have broken him in half. They also clearly felt she had not been listening.
The problem being that although it was an FBI team, it was not cleared for Special Circumstances, and higher-ups wanted it to stay that way.
“As you said, this case has special issues,” Barb said carefully. “The perpetrator of these crimes has special combat abilities. Believe it or not, Janea and I are the people that the FBI considers most capable of handling those abilities. A cave might kill you. This perpetrator will kill you. Which is why I have to be point. If you doubt my abilities, I’ll be happy to throw you, or either Mongo One or Mongo Two, around the room.”
“Okay,” Mike said. “You have to take point. But there are more issues than safety. Restrictions can be a stone bitch. I looked at the one on the hill. That’s what we call about a three. It’s tight, but you can go straight in. Restrictions go up to seven. At about a five, you’ve got to suck in your breath and then go through something that looks like a corkscrew. Please forgive me, ma’am, but you are…well built. Just those…issues alone are going to make any restriction over a four an issue for you. If I go first, I can usually figure out a way for big people to fit. If not…”
“I get stuck and you pull me out,” Barb said.
“Restrictions can be long,” one of the helpers said. “You might be too far in to pull out. That’s the point. We know when to back out. You don’t. And, yes, people die that way.”
“If there’s a serious restriction issue, we may have to turn over point,” Barb said reluctantly. “By the same token, if you think you are near the perpetrator, you need to get out of there as if all the hounds of hell were on your tail. Do you absolutely and positively understand me?”
“Listen to the lady,” Graham said.
“I hear you,” Mike said, looking puzzled. “But you’re not really telling me why.”
“Because you don’t get to know why,” Diller said. “You just have to get the ladies to the perpetrator and then get the hell away.” He looked at the team leader and frowned. “Look, if I was leading the penetration, that would be how I’d handle it. Cut and run. These ladies may not look like it, but they are professionals at this. You get them to the perp, let them handle it from there. And if you have any questions afterwards, don’t ask them.”
“Including ‘where’s the perpetrator?’” Graham said. “The perp is unlikely to be coming back. And that does not leave this investigation.”
“So what are you ladies?” Mike asked, looking askance. “The FBI’s La Femme Nikitas?”
“If we near the perpetrator, there will probably be a foul stench, like rotting bodies,” Barb said. “If you smell it particularly strongly, back off. Then let us take over.”
“He keeps his bodies in the cave?” one of the assistants asked.
“We’ll probably be able to track him by the smell,” Barb continued.
“Which is good because caves go every which-a-way,” Mike said. “And we both asked questions.”
“Which she is ignoring,” Agent Graham said. “What else do they have to know?”
“We’ll brief them in on lights and gear at the site,” Mike said, shrugging. “You want to go all super-spook on us, fine. But what you ladies have to worry about is the cave.”
“That is correct,” Barb said. “But what you have to worry about is what is in the cave.”
“These ought to fit you.”
Mongo One’s name turned out to be Thane Dale. Twenty-six, brown hair and eyes, and six foot four inches, he was a college student at University of Kentucky where Mike Argyll was a geology professor. Mongo Two, six two and blond, was Cedar Blackburn, a geology grad student at same.
The suits Thane was holding out looked something like wet suits with a slick exterior. And far too small.
“That’s going to be really tight,” Janea said, holding it up. “Tight is fine up to a point, but…”
“That’s the point,” Cedar said. “They are supposed to be constricting. They’re going to, sorry, flatten you two ladies out. They do the same for beer guts.”
“I don’t know if I can get that flat,” Barb said, holding up the suit.
“Try,” Argyll said, coming around the back of the van. He was already suited up. “If you can’t, you’re barely going to be able to make it through the exterior restriction. And we’re going to have to brief on climbing, rappel, and belay. Not to mention lights, lines and various other issues. So if you could kindly get ready.”
It took about two hours to get fully prepared for the penetration. Besides the helmet light, Barb had been issued four more. Three lights was considered a minimum, five was about right. Thane carried seven as well as backup batteries. Cedar was burdened with ropes, climbing gear and a bag of what Barb had referred to as her “necessaries,” and was carrying reels of thin line so they could find their way back. All of them were in the slick suits, hard hats with lights, and pads on elbows and knees.
“You want to try this?” Argyll said, pointing at the hole.
Barb was already sweating up a storm in the suit, and the hole looked far too small to fit through. But…
“I might as well start learning now,” she said, getting down on her knees. “Any suggestions?”
“Turn your head to the side, stick your arms in and pull,” Argyll said.
Lazarus gave her a look like “what’s the problem” and walked into the hole.
“That cat your familiar or something?”
“Something like that,” Barb said, then did as she was told and slid into the hole like a reversal of birth.
“Ow,” she muttered as she entered a slightly larger area. The smell was distinct but not strong. The Shambler had gone deeper.
“What happened?” Argyll asked.
“Scraped my cheek on the rock,” Barb said. “There’s enough room in here for you and me. I think.”
“Plenty,” Argyll said, sliding past her and looking around. There was a faint light from the exterior but his helmet light lit it like day. “Two openings,” he added, using a handlight to point them out.
