Delta Green - All Part of the Job

[Audrik]

Night Floors - Session 6a

After six hours of restless sleep, Agent REDOX called R-cell to group up. They met over breakfast to discuss their options going forward. The Macallistar building and its tenants seemed normal during the day and different – almost sinister – at night. They agreed daylight would be their best friend when dealing with the building. The only trouble was that daylight made it harder for their actions to go undetected.

REDOX was disappointed with the fact that the building wouldn’t burn, but REINHARD offered the suggestion that the building might be somehow more resilient at night. Maybe burning it during the day might work better. REDOX nodded and looked to Agent RON for his input. The secret service agent only offered a few words:

“You make the call, sir, and I’ll follow.”

Agent REDOX narrowed his eyes. He’d dealt with many agents who refused to listen, or who decided to take matters into their own hands; ROSE, ROCHE, REAPER, RAJEEV, RIVER … All he wanted was a cell that would follow orders, and now there was RON. His obedience to the supposed chain of command was annoying bordering on the infuriating. REDOX sighed and sipped at his coffee.

According to A-cell, the primary goal was to find the book; destruction of the building and removal of what R-cell saw as a cult were secondary objectives. The agents determined all three objectives would be easier if the tenants were evacuated from the building first. With the tenants out of the building, it could be searched without the need for the FBI act which REINHARD and REDOX agreed was getting tiring. Then the building could be torched, and assuming it burned, no bodies would be found. Finally, with the cult at an undisclosed location, they could be executed and disposed of.

The plan the agents decided on called for REDOX to rent a storage unit outside the city under an assumed name while REINHARD procured a moving truck and six large trunks. While they did that, RON would keep eyes on the building.

It was nearly 11:00 AM by the time the agents reassembled in front of the Macallistar. Agent REINHARD parked the truck right outside. As Penny MacLaren could identify him, Agent REINHARD decided he should stay in the truck.

RON and REDOX carried the trunks inside to Abby’s apartment. The first thing they noticed when they entered was that the smell of gas was still strong. The propane tanks were sealed, and the gas cans were open just as the agents had set them. The blasting caps hadn’t detonated, and the fuel had never ignited.

The next thing they noticed was that the front window which had been shot out the night before was once again in place and buried beneath layers of papers and glue. REDOX speculated that maybe the Macallistar building regenerated every morning.

RON knocked on Mr. Manuel’s door, and he was relieved when no one answered. Maybe the super hadn’t yet brought him back to life. Not that they had evidence that he could, but both agents felt there was truth to the odd pages they’d found in the building. One page had implied that the super might give Daniel Gray his eyes back.

 

[Audrik]

Night Floors - Session 6b

Next on the list was the last remaining tenant on the first floor: Roger Carun. Mr. Carun was a little on the shoter side with thinning brown hair. Other than the hair, he seemed to be in his early 30s. When he opened the door to his apartment, Agent REDOX flashed his FBI credentials and introduced himself as Special Agent Morrison. He introduced RON as Special Agent Densmore. Mr. Carun invited them in.

The apartment was very clean, but the walls were covered in posters for science fiction movies. It was the bedroom of a rich, geeky teenager, or it was the home of a geeky adult science fiction writer who was doing just well enough to get by.

REDOX informed Mr. Carun that he was their main suspect in the disappearance of Abigail Wright, and that meant they were going to have to take him in. The man’s eyes widened, and he protested that he had nothing to do with the disappearance; he’d only really even spoken to Ms. Wright once when he asked her to keep her New Year’s Eve party to a dull roar.
REDOX countered that new evidence had come to light implicating the science fiction writer, but he refused to say what evidence when pressed. Mr. Carun demanded that they show him a warrant, and while the agents were pretty sure the FBI had authority to arrest or detain without a warrant, they weren’t as sure as Mr. Carun seemed to be.

RON made a motion with his hand indicating the REDOX should shoot the man with his tranquilizer gun at the first opportunity, and then he cleared his throat.

“We don’t have a warrant, but we don’t need one either. We’re sorry, Mr. Carun.”

“Not as sorry as you’re going to be when I talk to my lawyer.”

When the man turned to address RON, Agent REDOX shot him in the neck with the tranquilizer. He caught the man as he fell, and both agents placed him in a trunk. Next up, second floor; Louis Post, Michelle Vanfitz, Penny MacLaren, and Daniel Gray. REDOX only had three doses of tranquilizer left, and there was still Clarice Milner on the third floor. They decided Ms. MacLaren might be difficult given what she’d recently been through, and so they left her for last.

The encounter with Mr. Post went about the same. Post swore he had nothing to do with the disappearance, and he asked for a warrant. RON got his attention while REDOX tranquilized him, and the agents dumped him in a trunk. Neither agent seemed particularly bothered by how routine this was becoming.

There was no answer at Mr. Gray’s door, so they picked the lock and entered. The apartment was empty. The carpet showed evidence of furniture, but it had apparently been removed in the past few days. Oh well. That was one less kidnapping/murder on their conscience. It also meant they were only short one dose.

Michelle Vanfitz was a tall woman with dark hair barely long enough to be tied back the way she had it. This had the effect of tightening her already severe features into an inscrutable mask of mild surprise and disdain. REDOX flashed his FBI credentials and made the introductions. This time, he elected not to inform her that she was their main suspect. Ms. Vanfitz invited them in, and while RON looked around at the many shelves of books on feminist literature and poetry, REDOX opened the conversation with a question. He wasn’t quite prepared for her answer.

“Ms. Vanfitz, have you ever heard of a play called the King in Yellow?”

“Heard of it? Of course I’ve heard of it. Abby found a copy at the little bookstore down the street, and we’ve all read it at least once. You know, it is one of the first feminist plays! It portrays a patriarchal society shifting to a matriarchal one. It’s really remarkable.”

Just then, RON found an old, thin book tucked between Women’s Studies textbooks. He slid the book out, and examined the cover. There was an odd yellow symbol sort of like an abstract of a creature with three spiraling tentacles. Something about the symbol filled him with dread, but he opened the cover anyway. The title page confirmed his suspicions: The King in Yellow, translated from the French.

 

[Audrik]

Night Floors - Session 6c

With Ms. Vanfitz’s back to him, RON held the book up for REDOX to see and made a show of concealing it beneath his jacket. He then got her attention by asking about one of the books on her shelves. As she turned, REDOX shot her in the neck like he had the others.

Once she was in a trunk of her own, the agents headed quickly up to the third floor and knocked on Clarice Milner’s door. The young woman answered, but she had little time even to smile. REDOX was in a hurry.

“Clarice Milner?”

“That’s me.”

“Good.”

He shot her in the neck with his last dose of tranquilizer, and the agents dragged her down to Abby’s apartment to dump her in a trunk.

That left only Penny MacLaren. REDOX knocked on her door. She answered the door with a blanket around her shoulders. He may have recently rescued her from her captor, but she didn’t seem happy to see him. She did invite the agents in, however.

Ms. MacLaren wasn’t in the mood for talking, and the agents were all out of tranquilizers, so RON improvised. He got her attention and then sprayed mace in her eyes. She screamed and tried to run for her door, but she was disoriented. She ended up tripping over her coffee table instead, and REDOX used the opportunity to jump on her and try his sleeper hold again.

Once she was out, the agents dumped her in the last trunk. They loaded the trunks into the moving truck, and REINHARD and REDOX drove away. RON had one last task to complete. This all started in Abigail Wright’s apartment, so it was only fitting it should end there.

Ron dropped the King in Yellow in the middle of her floor and poured gasoline over it. He then dropped a match and watched until the book had turned to ash. Once he felt certain the book was gone, he fled the building and took watch from the alley across the street. This time, there were real flames and smoke. This time, windows shattered. This time, the building burned.

By the time emergency responders had put the fire out, all that remained of the Macallistar was a crumbling, three-walled stone ruin. That was good enough for him.

After dropping REDOX at the storage area and unloading the trunks, REINHARD caught a cab to the airport. He was about done with this job. He’d be happy to ride a desk and keep Delta Green informed, but he was done with field work. No more Agent REINHARD; only Michael Pollander, the Friendly.

REDOX fired three rounds from his silenced pistol into each trunk before opening them. He placed each body in turn on a table covered in thick plastic, and he calmly sawed them into easily manageable chunks. The blood drained down the plastic and into buckets. He worked all day, and as night fell, he loaded two plastic-lined trunks filled with the remains of the tenants and some iron scrap for weight, and he drove out of town until he found a reasonably secluded pier on a dark section of beach.

Two months ago, it was Agent ROSE into the Pacific. Now, he dumped the Macallistar tenants into the Atlantic. Yeah. He could handle the job of cell leader.

 

[Audrik]

Okay, soooo ... I could have sworn I had posted that last session nearly two years ago. My apologies to anyone following this Story Hour. On the bright side, we've picked the game back up. We'll now be playing every other Sunday to accommodate a player with an odd work schedule.

I would much rather take an extra week between sessions than force a player into a minor support/recurring role. This way, I'll have an extra week to prepare plot lines and handouts, and none of the players will miss out.

We had the first session in nearly two years last week, and the next session is set for this coming Sunday.

 

[Audrik]

Interlude

After two brutal Operas in New York over the span of a week, R-Cell evidently merited some time off. During that time, R-Cell was approached by a woman claiming Delta Green clearance who knew them by their real names. She informed them that several years ago, Delta Green had regained its legitimacy within the U.S. government, and since then the Program, as she referred to it, had been working to track down members of the cells to “bring them in from the cold.” She offered official government sanction and black budget funding in exchange for official oversight and stacks of paperwork.

The offer sounded good to REDOX, but the others were unconvinced. Why now? Because R-Cell had finally been tracked down. Why hadn’t they heard about this supposed legitimization of the Delta Green conspiracy? Well, “conspiracy.” How could they be sure this wasn’t an elaborate trap set by Delta Green’s numerous enemies? She knew their names, and they were still alive. That was good enough for REDOX, or Dr. Michael Pepper, as it were. In the Program, codenames weren’t necessary.

And there it was. Codenames weren’t necessary? The things Delta Green agents had been doing for decades could be classified as domestic terrorism, albeit with an eye toward the security of the nation. Codenames were often the only real protection they had. REINHARD and RON took that opportunity to thank the woman for her time, walk away, and go as dark as they possibly could.

Dr. Pepper, on the other hand, accepted the offer. With this new, legitimate Delta Green, he’d obviously be getting a raise, an office, an invitation to the Delta Green Christmas party … No, not exactly. Well, he’d get a badge and Delta Green credentials … Again, no. Could he sew a green triangle onto his shirt? He could if he wanted to, but it wasn’t advisable. Delta Green wasn’t an agency. It was a security clearance, and it was above Top Secret. The first rule of Delta Green was still “Don’t talk about Delta Green.”

Then what, exactly, was the difference between the cell-structure conspiracy and the Program? It sounded like all he got was a lack of codename. The woman reminded him that his Delta Green ops would be officially sanctioned by the U.S. government, and he’d have the support of every agency and military branch from which Delta Green pulled its members.

So, he could call in an air strike on Peoria? No. But he could have a wiretap placed in his neighbor’s house to get proof that the jackass was pirating his Wi-Fi and using his Amazon Prime account, right? Not without a warrant. Spy satellite photography? Nope.

So, he lost his codename, and he gained government oversight and increased paperwork. There was an upside to all this, but he was missing it. The woman reminded him that he was currently classified as a domestic terrorist, but if he played ball, he could do all the things he used to for all the same reasons, and he’d be a patriot instead. Fair enough.

 

[Audrik]

Convergence - Session 1a

It wasn’t until about ten months later, in May of 2013, that Dr. Pepper got his first call for a legitimate Delta Green op. The Program was assembling a task force at the FBI headquarters in Knoxville, Tennessee. His supervisor had already been notified of his impending absence, so that was nice. No more burning his sick leave and pretending he was home in bed. The EPA had also already arranged his flight to Nashville and reserved a rental car. This legitimate status just might work out after all.

The drive from Nashville took about two hours, and on arrival at the FBI office, he was directed to a conference room down the hall and to the left. There were two men already in the room. The one in the black suit was standing, and he directed the doctor to close the door and take a seat.

The other man was obviously not FBI. He introduced himself as Thomas Lakefield, a park ranger for the National Park Service. After the pleasantries, the man in the suit jumped straight to the briefing. He was Special-Agent-in-Charge James Derringer, a Vietnam veteran and career lawman.

SAC Derringer tapped a few keys on the wireless keyboard, and the 55” widescreen monitor mounted to the wall flickered to life. It displayed a grainy, black-and-white picture in the center with a wide strip of black to either side. Another keystroke and the video began to play. It was security camera footage showing the counter and register of a convenience store.

A young man, probably in his late teens or early twenties, wearing a t-shirt and jeans entered the store and approached the counter. There was no audio, but it was apparent the man was agitated. He shouted some things at the clerk who merely stared at him with a blank expression. The man threw a punch at the clerk, striking him in the temple and caving in the side of his head before the follow-through tore the head clean off the shoulders. The dented skull bounced and skidded along the counter and off onto the floor. The headless body stood and trembled for a long five or six seconds as blood spurted from the neck like an erupting volcano. Eventually, it lurched forward and collapsed on the counter.

The man disappeared off-camera briefly before returning with an armful of pill bottles. He pressed some buttons on the register before getting frustrated and bringing his fist down on it a few times, smashing it and causing the cash drawer to pop open. The man grabbed a handful of cash and fled the store.

As the video ended, SAC Derringer hit another key on the keyboard to stop the playback. He turned to the two agents.

“This was four days ago at a Quik Mart in Florence, Alabama. The kid in the video is William Raymond Spivey. Billy Ray. He held up six gas stations and drug stores in the last two weeks – first in Tennessee, then Alabama, and finally in Georgia. He was stopped at a roadblock in Georgia just after his last robbery. An FBI agent and a state trooper put four bullets in him before he went down. He lived, and he is being held under sedation in an interrogation room down the hall.”

Ranger Lakefield pointed out that the sort of mauling displayed in the film would be a tough feat for a grizzly, much less a bare-handed kid. Derringer simply nodded and continued.

“That’s why you’re here, agents. Eight days ago, Billy Ray vanished from his home in Waynesboro, Tennessee. He returned six days ago, dazed and with no knowledge of what had happened in the meantime. He felt sick, and he was in a lot of pain. After his parents put him to bed, they called the local doctor to examine him. The doctor was unable to find any explanation for the boy’s pain. What’s more, Billy Ray had a hell of an appetite. He ate anything put in front of him whether it was something he liked or not, and despite the increased eating, he had no bowel movements and didn’t urinate.”

Both agents were taking notes, but they evidently found different things to be of interest.

“Four days ago, he went into some sort of a fit. His father tried to hold him down and quiet him, but Spivey punched clean through his father’s chest, killing him almost instantly. Billy Ray fled the house and ran off toward town. He robbed Murray’s Gas, taking $65 and several bottles of aspirin. He also took the cashier’s car and sped off down State Road 13.”

 

[Audrik]

Convergence - Session 1b

SAC Derringer then detailed the results of the medical examination performed on Spivey after his arrival in Knoxville. Analysis showed muscle tissue in his arms and legs had been entirely replaced with a strange tissue that mimicked human muscle tissue, but which was decidedly non-human. The boy has tremendous strength, but only his muscle tissue had been replaced; his skeletal structure remained the same. This meant that while the kid was strong enough to lift and throw a small car, his bones would still snap under stress. Further examination revealed extensive surgery evidenced by many tiny scars over his arms and legs. The incisions had been closed with the same non-human tissue as the replaced muscle tissue. The replaced tissue of his arms and legs was hairless, and he no longer had fingerprints, handprints, or footprints. His hands and feet were smooth yet possessed an increased friction.

Lakefield seemed a little bothered by this revelation – understandable since this was his first official Delta Green op – but Pepper took it all in stride. Not even a year had passed since he’d seen a Nazi necromancer shoot a cab driver and switch places with the corpse to effect a getaway. Never mind the indestructible building with the extra floors at night or the gasoline that could make a person’s truck run him over in his hotel room. Compared to what he’d seen quite recently, a quadruple amputee with replacement limbs and an addiction to painkillers was a mild episode of Dr. Phil.

Their assignment, Derringer said, was to head to Waynesboro and find out what happened to Spivey during his missing days, and to handle the situation under standard Delta Green protocol. To Derringer and Lakefield, Delta Green protocol meant elimination and cover-up of supernatural threats. To Dr. Pepper, “Delta Green protocol” probably meant scorched earth. He didn’t want to destroy an entire town, but if it came to it, he knew Lakefield wouldn’t light the fuse.

The briefing essentially over, Derringer directed them to the interrogation room where Spivey was heavily sedated and cuffed to a chair under armed guard. The agents asked the kid several questions, but his answers were slow and not always clear. They were able to learn that Billy Ray had a girlfriend named Jane Allen who lived a few miles away from his place, and he had been to see her the night he apparently disappeared. He remembered leaving the Allen farmhouse and returning home. The walk typically took an hour or so, but his parents said it took two days. In Spivey’s drugged condition, he couldn’t possibly be considered of sound mind, and yet Dr. Pepper ignored that detail when he gained Spivey’s permission to take a tissue sample. While Lakefield prepared a vehicle for the trip to Waynesboro, Pepper prepared a slide with the tissue sample for examination by the doctor Derringer said was being sent from Washington.

The two agents decided to stop in Nashville and get a hotel room. Waynesboro was a town of about 2,000 people, and there was only one small motel in the area. Until they were sure it was safe to stay in town, a two-hour commute was fine with them.

It was just about lunchtime when they arrived in the small town. The agents stopped at Murray’s Gas and grabbed sodas, chips, and fresh-made deli sandwiches before checking in with the local sheriff. Lakefield pointed out that this Murray person must either own the town or be a local legend after whom the entire town chose to name everything. Murray’s Gas was next to Murray’s Auto Body. Murray’s Diner was down the street to the north. A block or so to the west were Murray’s Chinese and Murray’s Laundry and Dry Cleaning.

Waynesboro was a modern, small southern town, but the Wayne County Sheriff’s office was straight out of the Andy Griffith show. There were three cells with comfortable-looking furnishings and a set of iron keys hanging within reach of two of those cells. The sheriff was sitting back and reading a magazine with his feet up on his desk. They didn’t look like FBI, but Pepper and Lakefield had FBI consultants badges displayed; Lakefield’s on a lanyard around his neck, and Pepper’s in a leather wallet clipped to his belt.

The agents introduced themselves, and Sheriff Dan Oakley said he’d been expecting them. The sheriff was friendly yet businesslike, and he offered the assistance of his office if the agents needed it. He was happy to direct them toward the Spivey and Allen residences. Angel Spivey had a sister and brother-in-law in town to keep her company, and Nancy Allen could generally be found at home except for Sunday mornings and Wednesday afternoons when she’d be at church. Her husband, Joseph Allen was one of the town’s aldermen, and as it was the county’s tax time, he’d be spending almost every available hour at City Hall.

 

[Audrik]

Convergence - Session 1c

The agents thanked Sheriff Oakley for his time and headed to City Hall. Most of the buildings in town were relatively modern, or they had at least been modernized. City Hall stuck out as a relic of the earliest days of the county. It was a two-story wooden building, and the inside was dusty and poorly lit.

A kid of about 16 was listening to music behind the counter. When the agents entered, he removed his earbuds and asked if there was anything he could do to help. Dr. Pepper showed his FBI consultant’s badge.

“We’re with the FBI. We have a few questions for Joseph Allen.”

“Oh, yeah. Okay. If you want to give me your name, I’ll see about getting you an appointment for tomorrow.”

Tomorrow wasn’t good enough for Dr. Pepper, but the clerk insisted that since it was the county’s tax time, the mayor and aldermen were only available by appointment the following day, even for the FBI. Well, he’d just have to see about that.

“He’s upstairs?”

“Yes, sir, but the mayor and the aldermen are too busy to be disturbed. If you’ll just leave your name …”

Dr. Pepper started up the stairs with a determined stomp, but the clerk shouted after him.

“I’m supposed to call the sheriff if anyone disturbs the aldermen without an appointment.”

The doctor stopped on the third step and hung his head with a sigh. Fine. There were other Allens he could talk to. He came back down the stairs, told the clerk and Lakefield he was heading to the Allen residence to speak with Nancy and Jane and left the building.

Ranger Lakefield shrugged and set up an appointment to speak with Joseph Allen as early as possible in the morning. The clerk informed him City Hall would open at 8:00, but the mayor and the aldermen would be there much earlier. He could stop by anytime after 6:00, and Joseph Allen should be available. The ranger thanked the clerk and said he’d be back in the morning, definitely no later than 8:00. He then had the clerk direct him to the local library; he had a few ideas he wanted to check out.

The Allen residence was a two-story farmhouse about six miles down an old dirt road from the Spivey residence. Dr. Pepper knocked gently on the door, and it was only a moment before Nancy Allen answered. She was middle-aged and looked every inch the typical southern housewife. He showed his badge and introduced himself, and Mrs. Allen invited him in with a smile.
The interior was immaculately kept. The furniture was dusted and polished, the hardwood floors were swept and polished, and there wasn’t a single picture out of place or skewed. Mrs. Allen motioned toward the couch and asked if he’d like some sweet tea. The doctor gladly accepted the hospitality.

Mrs. Allen retrieved a tray with two glasses and a pitcher of sweet tea from the kitchen and set it gently on the coffee table. She poured a glass of tea for the doctor and one for herself before taking a seat in a chair across from him. Dr. Pepper mentioned he was investigating a potentially drug-related incident involving Billy Ray Spivey. Oh, Mrs. Allen assured him in the sweetest of tones that Billy Ray was a good kid. If he’d ever touched drugs or alcohol, the Allens would never have let him near their daughter. It simply would not do for the daughter of an alderman to be involved with a criminal element. Why, whatever would the other families at church say?

Yes. Of course. And speaking of Jane, was she home? Dr. Pepper had a few questions he’d like to ask her. Mrs. Allen shook her head with a smile. Jane was probably out with some friends. She’d be home eventually.

Dr. Pepper finished his sweet tea and thanked her for her time. He gave her his cell number and asked for Joseph or Jane to give him a call when they had the chance. Mrs. Allen said she’d be happy to pass along the message, and if he felt like having a proper southern meal, he and his partner were welcome to come back for dinner. The doctor thanked her and said they would be happy to accept. After all, a free, home-cooked meal sounded wonderful, and it would be the perfect opportunity to speak with both the alderman and Billy Ray’s girlfriend.

 

[Audrik]

Convergence - Session 1d

At the library, Lakefield went over past issues of the local newspaper, The Wayne County News. The most recent issues had very little actual news. They were mostly advertisements for various local businesses and crackpot UFO conspiracy stories. Lights had been reported over the hills to the northwest by many different residents. There were mutilations of cattle and other livestock. Several times over the past few months, Elvis had been seen in town. Just last week, the King of Rock and Roll had even been overheard arguing with Jim Morrison over whether Murray’s Diner or Murray’s Chinese had the best food in Waynesboro; Elvis preferred the diner.

There was no mention of how Billy Ray had disappeared for two days, how he had accidentally killed his father, or even how he’d robbed Murray’s Gas and stolen the clerk’s car. In fact, Ranger Lakefield had to go back about four months to find anything resembling real news. The local Christmas festival had gone over very well. It drew hundreds of folks from all over Wayne County, and even some from as far away as Memphis and Nashville. Before the first issue of February, The Wayne County News was a legitimate small-town paper, but somewhere around that time, it degenerated into its current format.

Lakefield made a few photocopies and asked to use one of the library’s computer terminals. He logged into Facebook and watched a couple cat videos before tracking down Jane Allen’s page. There were several Jane Allens in Tennessee, but there was only one in Waynesboro.

He poked around her page a bit, and it didn’t take long for him to become a little bothered. Her status was updated recently to “Complicated,” and Jane had only posted a few selfies at irregular intervals over the past four months. Just like the newspaper, before early February, she seemed to be a regular teenager who made regular updates to her Facebook page, “Liked” just about everything, and posted an endless stream of selfies. Then, she slowed down and eventually ended up only adding a picture or two every few days.

He checked Billy Ray’s page. Same thing. He checked their friends’ pages. For those friends in Waynesboro, it was the same; things slowed down and became subdued beginning around February. For those friends outside of Waynesboro, it was business as usual, except that about the time the Waynesboro teens stopped posting, and the newspaper began running only garbage stories, the people from out of town started asking about all the UFO and dead singer sightings. Waynesboro had become a local laughingstock in a short time.

Dr. Pepper was on his way to the Spivey residence when Lakefield sent him a text. He’d found something interesting at the library, and he wanted to get Pepper’s opinion. The doctor pulled over and responded that he was on his way. Also, the Allens had invited them to dinner tonight.

 

[Audrik]

Convergence - Session 1e

Once at the library, Dr. Pepper confirmed Lakefield’s observation. Something odd had apparently happened in the vicinity of Waynesboro this past winter. For a scientist, Pepper was very willing to accept the UFO conspiracy theory. It was all there in black and white, literally. It made sense, too, when you considered Billy Ray’s lost time. That sort of thing was commonly reported in alien abduction stories. Cattle mutilations, weird lights in the skies … He apparently considered The Wayne County News to be an unimpeachable source. Ranger Lakefield wasn’t nearly so convinced. He’d seen some strange things in his time – in fact, it had been a skin-walker that acted as a catalyst for his induction into Delta Green – but aliens? Really?

One other thing the Facebook pages showed: the local teen hangouts were Murray’s Diner and the reservoir northwest of town. Northwest of the town was where the lights had been reported. The agents decided to split up again. Dr. Pepper was going to interview Angel Spivey, Billy Ray’s mother, and Ranger Lakefield was going to check out the reservoir. They’d meet back up at the Allen residence for dinner and conversation.

Like the Allens and all the other families who lived south of town, Angel Spivey lived in a farmhouse. It was clean enough, but Nancy Allen’s housekeeping would put it to shame. Mrs. Spivey was also friendly enough, but she wasn’t quite as cheerful or accommodating as her neighbor had been – understandable, given how her family had been destroyed so recently.

She gave a story similar to Nancy’s. Billy Ray was a good kid who would never touch drugs or alcohol. He was too small and weak for most sports, but he did have a gift for music. Billy Ray and Jane had been childhood sweethearts, but it wasn’t until a couple years ago that Billy Ray had mustered the courage to ask her out. Dr. Pepper thanked her for her time, offered condolences on her loss, and promised to do everything in his power to return Billy Ray to her safely. Then, it was off down the old dusty trail toward the Allen place and what he was sure would be the best fried chicken of his life.

Ranger Lakefield looked around the reservoir and surrounding woods without much luck. It was no Olympic National Park or Mount Rainier, but the scenery would be pretty to an unspoiled eye. The pump house which supplied water to the entire area was sealed with a heavy chain and a Master Lock. He found the tracks of several types of animals in the woods; everything from foxes and rabbits to black bears and boars. That was a good sign. The animals weren’t afraid of the area. At least, they weren’t scared enough to go somewhere else in search of water.

He also found teenager tracks. Several clearings and sites around the reservoir showed signs of teen hangouts; mostly soda cans and empty chip bags. No lights in the sky though, but then, those were always reported at night. He might have to come back, but first, dinner with the Allens and Dr. Pepper.