Agency 13 # 3
Attack of the Accountant
Think of the shoulder of a highway, right in front of a sign indicating that you've just entered the city limits of Pleasantview, New Jersey, a 'nice place to live', at night. Then, picture two men, one in a black suit with a red flat top, the other wearing a red and orange stretch fabric uniform, looking around by the sign, with guns drawn. Looming overhead, just out of sight, a well-dressed vampire is watching them, intent on murder.
(That should do for a 'cover', shouldn't it?)
Notice: for those of you that are faint of heart, the following tale is not at all G-rated. It may include foul language, excessive violence, sexual innuendo, and other things that would get this story burned, were it in a printed form, by the more fanatical elements of every religion on earth. In other words, if these things offend you, you may want to stop reading now.
(That should do for a 'disclaimer', shouldn't it?)
***
Agent Deathmonger watched the man tapping his index finger against the table. Seņor Barnett was trying to remember the details laid out in the report before him, the report he himself wrote only a week before. Oddly enough, his memories of what had happened were totally counter to what he had written and sent back to the Agency. Apparently, the telepath running the infamous Ariel-Shijitzu corporation had altered his recollections.
But neglected to collect his report before he dropped it in the mail.
As such, Barnett tried with some futility to recall his time in Pleasantview, where Roy Shijitzu manages the most important branch of his family's business. This was, of course, because both Agent Deathmonger and Mike 013 needed to check out a bizarre string of murders that the police had no clue about, and could use every bit of advance info they could get their hands on. Sadly, Barnett couldn't produce any.
Luckily, the two Agency 13 men had Barnett's report, and they began to digest it as they prepared to leave. It had little on the city of Pleasantview that a body couldn't get from a New Jersey atlas, of course, but it did tell a whole lot about the secret doings of Ariel-Shijitzu's leading man. This could come in handy should the perpetrator of these bizarre crimes work for the company. Practically everybody in Pleasantview did, after all.
A day later, the two investigators arrived in the town of Pleasantview, a quaint little corporate village about fifty miles away from New York City proper, hiding in the suburbs of New Jersey. They scoped out the town before getting down to it, getting the general layout. Basically, the Ariel-Shijitzu complex commands the center of Pleasantview, with it's 26 story main structure, three robotics factories, and twelve warehouses.
Outside of this corporate / industrial zone, a series of support industries have grown, such as mini-malls, fast food joints, etc. Outside of this second ring of commerce, one can find residential Pleasantview. The first three blocks or so consist of large, upscale homes. The next three blocks hold your less expensive, slightly cheaper houses. And then, for about another half mile out, you run into waves and waves of trailer parks. Nice, eh?
The two decided to stake the town out, looking for anything (or anybody) that jibed with the police report they acquired before arriving. Essentially, somebody was draining blood from people, doing so with two puncture wounds to the neck. Believing this strange perpetrator was some sort of freak-o that thought he was (or wanted to be) a vampire, Mike 013 and Agent Deathmonger figured if they waited long enough, they'd find who they were looking for.
As night descended upon Pleasantview, Mike 013 woke Deathmonger up, as they'd been sleeping in shifts, and Mike was looking at something he thought odd. "Wake up, already! This could be our man. Or woman. Or whatever. Look!" Opening his eyes under his sunglasses, Agent D did, in fact, see them. It was a gaggle of teens, dressed in black clothing, wearing black makeup, and of course, looking as if they wanted to look all creepy.
"Mmn." Having known the former FBI man for some time, Mike pretty much knew that noncommittal tone meant 'probably not'.
"Why not? They fit our profile, don't they?" Agent Deathmonger took a second look at the kids.
"Mmn." After Mike 013 glared at him for a bit, his partner finally spoke up. "We're looking for just one person, I think. Not too many murders are a communal thing, unless a large percentage of this town is nuts."
Mike 013 thought about this for a minute. "I say we follow them."
Agent Deathmonger looked for about a minute, and finally relented. "Fine." The two started up their nondescript sedan and pulled up behind the wanna-be gothic children in spurts, as to not be noticed. The kids eventually made their way to a local burger joint, and started getting food. "I told you so." Mike glared at Agent Deathmonger again, and he could almost detect a bit of smirk in the man's face.
The duo continued to watch nonetheless, until the fast food restaurant closed for the evening. Six darkly dressed teens walked out, meandering about in a search for anything to do. About half an hour later, the three employees came out, reeking of fast, artificial foodstuffs, and Mike 013 prepared to start up the car, when Deathmonger stopped him. "What? You were right, I know. Let's go!" Instead, Agent Deathmonger stepped out of the car.
He walked around to the rear of the burger joint, Mike 013 following all the way. "What're you doing, man? Gonna nick a burger in the night?" Agent Deathmonger looked around, seeing what he could see, and explained.
"Eight punks go in, only six leave. Wouldn't you call that... odd?" Mike thought about it earlier, and remembered that there were, in fact, eight of the little pukes to start with!
"You're right! Ha haa, I knew it!"
"Mmn." Agent D looked around the alley for a bit, and pulled out a gun. Not both, but just one. Following suit, Mike 013 did so as well, and they both snuck into the urban depths. After about fifty feet, they could hear voices - three voices.
"Excellent, my friends. You consistently come through for me." And they could hear slurping sounds. That was enough for the Agency 13 men, who came in rushing.
Snapping on a flashlight, Mike 013 leveled his shotgun at the three people lurking in the alley, two of which were the missing gothic children. The third was a repulsive man, coated in blood, who was crouched over a limp body in a uniform similar to those kids that worked at the burger joint back up the alley. He had a long face, with grayish-black hair, and seemed to be wearing nothing but his underwear.
"Freeze, you creeps! And put your pants on!" As he said this, Mike 013 saw his error immediately, in that he should've shot first. That was because the bloody man leapt right at him, crossing about fifteen feet of air without touching the ground, and smashed him upside the head. As his partner fell down, Agent Deathmonger unloaded his entire magazine into the apparent murderer, who simply laughed at him, felling him with a powerful backhand.
***
The two investigators woke up some time later, towards the morning, and found that they were oddly intact. Of course, so was the dead body of that poor fast food fellow, mere feet from themselves. Clearing out in a jiffy, the two made sure they weren't coated in blood or otherwise framed for the incident, and tried to make plans. Though they didn't know who that creep was that took them out so easily, both of them managed to see his face.
As such, once they'd freshened up at their hotel room, the two Agency men then hit the local library and, finding microfiche records of old newspapers, went to work. Approximately eight hours later, the duo found the man in several articles, something about an African safari gone wrong. In fact, the man they were looking for, one George Zimmerman, was shipped back to America in a pine box after dying on safari some years back.
Of course, once he was back, George was found to be 'just' really, really sick, and attributed reports of his early demise to incompetent foreign doctors. Soon after, because of his new, permanent anemia, he was able to get his accountant position moved to the third shift, and has worked for the local giant, the Ariel-Shijitzu corporation, ever since. At night. Out of the sunlight. When hardly anybody else would be in the building.
The two investigators weren't what you would call cynics; well, maybe Agent Deathmonger could be called that, but they weren't stupid. Though they didn't believe it, it would seem that they could be facing a real vampire, other than the psycho poser they'd come looking for, and figured that they could be in over their heads. After all, even if they were wrong, the fellow could leap fifteen feet in a single bound. That takes power.
So, after a quick stop at a sports equipment store, and then a church, the two parked their car outside the Ariel-Shijitzu building, and began to wait. Once again, night descended upon the town of Pleasantview like a shroud, and the two Agency men couldn't help but be nervous, even a little, about the coming battle. For there would be a fight, they were both sure, in that this fellow wouldn't like what they had in mind for him.
And neither would the Ariel-Shijitzu security force.
Around midnight, there was a shift change at the A-S building, and a vast flow of people came out of the place, while only about seven actually made their way in. About five minutes later, apparently running late, was their man, all decked out in a plain business suit, with his black hair all greased back, and even with glasses on - as if to serve as a disguise. Once he was in, the two heroes got out of their car, and made their way in.
Once they passed inside the glass doors, the two looked around, marveling at the architecture at work; the first three stories of the building seemed to be a vast, open area, with various stone carvings and plants spread about to give off an opulent look. Of course, the big ol' fountain in the middle of the place helped on that score. It was then that the two were accosted by three A-S security fellows.
"Pardon me, sirs, but can we help you?" This was out of Mike 013's experience. Usually, when he'd attracted the attention of a security guard, it meant that three overweight, slack-jawed idiots were about to harass him about something, either his clothing, his color, or the simple fact that he was making them get off their fat butts and work. This guy was a brick: lean, mean-looking, and polite, to boot.
That's why he felt bad about burying his boot heel in the man's jaw.
Agent Deathmonger took out the other two with quick butts to the head with his guns, and the two rushed to a quick 'helpful map' of the building. Accounting was apparently done on level 24, so the two ran up the stairs as fast as they could. Sure they could've taken the elevators, but why bother? If there were any more security watching, or those three guys woke up quick enough, well, that would've stopped that trip all too quickly.
Several minutes later, the two investigators were huffing and puffing on the 24th floor, where they saw an ancient, forties-style robot staring them down. It was rooted to the floor, and had a plaque on the side, but there it was, nonetheless. Reading the inscription, Mike 013 found out that this thing was apparently built by the company's founder, Max Ariel, now deceased, in an attempt to create life.
He apparently failed. But, this corridor was full of such exhibits, and both Mike and Agent D read up on them as they made their way to the Accounting area. Once they'd arrived, they kicked in the door, surprising the secretary enough to make her freak out. When she did, the stack of papers in her arms exploded out in the traditional manner, and her scream brought out the only person working at this time: George Zimmerman!
"What the He-" He stopped abruptly when he saw the two investigators at the door, who moved aside as the secretary fled. "You! You're the fools that attacked me in the alleys last night! I'll kill you!" As he lurched forward, Mike 013 shot him full in the chest with the laser emitter on his shotgun, which stopped George cold. Reluctantly, Agent Deathmonger pulled out a wooden stake, and moved forward.
As Agent Deathmonger advanced, George pulled himself together, smashing the former federal agent right in the diaphragm, winding him again. Before Mike 013 could get off another shot, George shrank and transformed into a bat, flapping out the door. "Get up, D!" Mike ran after the rodent, trying to keep up with the flying beast, as Agent Deathmonger pulled himself together and managed to hobble after.
"Rrr." Seeing the door to the stairwell close, he hobbled forward, slowly but surely.
Hitting the lobby, the animal that was George Zimmerman returned to an upright George-form, and started screaming for security. "Security! Security! These men are trying to kill me!" The three guards, still pulling themselves together after the beating they received, looked rather angry at Mike 013 as he crashed through the stairwell door, shooting at George again. When the beam went through his chest, he fell down this time, not breathing.
But then again, he doesn't really need to.
The guards pulled their guns. "Drop it, mister, or you're dead! You hear?" Mike considered taking their shots, since his force field suit could handle them, but decided to defer to their wishes... for now. Just then, Agent Deathmonger leapt from the stairwell, with that stake in hand, aiming for George's chest. George freaked at this point, rolling away from the deadly impact - to the amazement of the security guards.
"Fools! You'll all pay for this! I'll destroy you all!" As he lunged for Mike, the security force reacted, and filled him full of lead. This barely stopped him, however, and he groped Mike around the neck, though he couldn't snap it thanks to the force field surrounding him. Realizing the futility of this, George began to flee, when he noticed that nobody was moving. Thinking to get in a shot at Agent Deathmonger, George stopped when his boss appeared.
"So, is this how you spend your late hours, George? Roughing up the security force and rude interlopers?" George Zimmerman looked upon the face of his boss, one Roy Shijitzu, and shrugged.
"I guess this is it, no? I'll be leaving, now, I suppose." Roy smiled, and the security guards returned to their posts, and the two Agency 13 men left, with a smile on their faces.
"No, I think not." Roy then took George into his office, to talk about the future.
Though he properly edited the memories of everybody present before he did so.
***
On their way home, Agent Deathmonger and Mike 013 were happy. As far as they knew, they found the perpetrator of these savage killings, and ended his paranormal threat to the people of Pleasantview once and for all. They both had the nagging sensation that they were forgetting something, but they couldn't put their finger on it. Not that it mattered, of course, because they had done what they came to do.
Right?
***
Next month, we'll look in on the oddball life of Seņor Barnett, as he makes for a small town that supposedly has a robot problem. Of course, since he hates all sorts of technology, he naturally gets involved with a high tech terror from the stars! Will he be able to deal with this creature rationally, or will he succumb to his own mental problems and cause an interstellar incident? Come back in thirty days to find out!
***
Agency 13 # 3 - Attack of the Accountant
Copyright 1999, 2004, 2012, 2023 Denny Hill 2
All rights reserved and so forth.
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