“I think you’re hiding your real self behind all this ‘Nada’ BS like everyone around here hides behind baby grand pianos and golf courses and fancy cars.”
Nada looked at the tiny girl with blue hair sipping from his CamelBak. He definitely had to get a dog when they got back to the Ranch, but then the problem was who would take care of it when they were on an op. Ms. Jones? Doubtful. “What?”
“You’ve got the same look on your face as when I first met you,” Scout said. “Like you’re someplace else and just existing here.”
Nada blinked, but the door to the garage opened and Moms came in, followed by the rest of the team, still arguing. Nada was oddly grateful to the team for interrupting his conversation with Scout.
“We need to call in an Acme,” Moms said. “I’ll get Ms. Jones on it.”
Roland groaned.
“You know how to kill a pool?” Moms asked.
“Blow it up.” Which was usually Mac’s response to every situation, but Roland liked blowing things up also.
“It’s in the water,” Moms said, “not the pool itself. Like I said, we destroy the integrity of the pool we spread the Firefly who knows where. It’s never been in a liquid before according to our history. We go Acme.”
While they waited for the Acme, Moms sent Roland and Doc over to recon the pool. They drove one of the SUVs and Doc dialed up a bunch of codes on a transmitter. It took him all of three seconds to turn off the alarm system for the house and get the garage door to go up. They pulled in, shutting the door behind them.
Roland had his machine gun, which Doc found rather amusing, since they were reconning water in a pool, but it was a comfort to the big man, and Doc had been on the team long enough to know not to make the big man uncomfortable. They wove their way through the enormous house, although it wasn’t quite as big as the Winslows’ since it was three streets down from the top of the ridge.
There were lots and lots of pictures. There was a framed photograph of presumably the Lindsays in snow gear and holding skis, and engraved on the frame: Snowbird 2010.
Roland was looking about, shaking his head. “They can’t remember anywhere they been and what they done? They got to take pictures of every place?” Every member of the Nightstalkers was extremely camera shy. In fact, it was against Protocol for them to have their photo taken.
There was a psychology paper for the writing in here, Doc thought as they penetrated further into the house, going by photo after photo of the same people. Roland paused as they passed one door. Doc looked around him to see what had caused him to stop. It was the family room, with big-screen TV, comfy chairs, and a bunch of pictures. But what had grabbed Roland’s attention was that an entire wall was covered by a map of the world.
“That’s pretty cool,” Roland said, walking over, machine gun resting on his shoulder.
There were a number of different-colored pins scattered around the map — four different colors, in fact — and there was even a legend set in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, north and west of Hawaii, explaining what the colors meant.
Green: Places the Lindsays have been.
Blue: Places the Lindsays have plans to go to.
Yellow: Places one or more of the Lindsays have been but not all.
Red: Places the Lindsays dream of going.
“What the fuck?” Roland muttered. He stepped back and looked at the map, noting the colored pins. “I’ve been more places than they even dream of going.”
“Yes, but it wasn’t for the tourism and you usually didn’t land with the airplane,” Doc noted. He pointed at some of the pins. “And it wasn’t Hawaii or Sydney or Hong Kong. It was usually some place no one wants to go to. Note no pins in Iraq, Iran, or Afghanistan.”
“I don’t get this place or these people,” Roland said as they left the room. Not for the first and probably not for the last time.
They reached the sliding glass door that opened to the backyard. The yard had a high, solid wood fence around it. The pool was indeed kidney shaped with a slide. It looked deceivingly tranquil, not like one that had eaten a squirrel earlier.
“How about I throw a frag in it?” Roland suggested.
“We already used our Fourth of July excuse,” Doc said. “And remember what Moms said about dispersing the water.”
“Maybe the girl is wrong,” Roland said. “Maybe she made it up, just to get Nada to pay her?”
“You think?” Doc said, turning to look Roland in the eyes. “You think she would lie to us about this?”
The big man shifted his feet. “Well, no.”
“Okay, then,” Doc said. “I will tell you what, though. You feel like tossing the barbecue grill over there into the pool? Just to see what happens?”
That made Roland happy. He slung his machine gun over his shoulder and slid open the patio door.
“Careful,” Doc warned. “Water can be pretty powerful. People underestimate it. Remember it killed hundreds of thousands during the tsunami.” Doc pulled out his phone and began filming Roland’s assault on the pool.
Roland got behind the grill, turned it toward the pool, and then ran a few steps pushing it, before releasing. The momentum carried it over the edge and it toppled in.
It promptly sank. Roland turned to Doc and shrugged, just as the pool ejected the grill up into the air thirty feet.
Roland dove out of the way as it crashed down exactly where he’d been standing. A half-dozen water tentacles rose out of the pool, groping toward Roland. He ran toward Doc, who slammed the door shut as he passed. The tentacles reached the glass door and began sliding about.
“Why don’t they just bust it?” Roland wondered. “If it can throw that grill, it can bust glass.”
“Fireflies have never been known for their smarts,” Doc said, backing up and tapping Roland to join him. They moved away from the glass. The tentacles finally gave up and retreated back to the pool. Doc stopped filming.
Their earpieces came alive. “Sitrep?” Moms asked.
“We’ve got a Firefly,” Doc said.
“Acme is coming in the gate. We’ll meet you there.”
The radio went quiet. “Keep an eye out,” Doc said to Roland. “I will meet them in the garage.”
He retraced his steps, the eyes of the Lindsays peering at him from numerous frames in every room. He got to the garage as Moms pulled in with Eagle, Nada, Kirk, and Scout. They piled out of the SUV as a Support driver in a Senators Club patrol car pulled in the drive. A man got out and Moms waved him into the garage as Nada hit the close button for the door.
“Doctor Kelsey?” Doc always took points with Acme. “I’m Doctor Ghatar.” Doctor on doctor, it always worked better than Moms or Nada as Acmes tended to view the military as Neanderthals.
Kelsey was a surprisingly young man, one they’d never worked with before on a mission. He had black, thick-framed glasses and carried a briefcase tucked tight under one arm. They always carried briefcases.
“It was a surprise and a pleasure to be called,” Kelsey said. “Very exciting. They picked me up right off the campus at Duke in a helicopter.”
Behind Kelsey, Nada rolled his eyes and Scout giggled.
“Should that girl be here?” Kelsey asked, pointing at her. “I was told this could be dangerous.”
“We gotta kill a pool,” Nada said. “You let us worry about her. She’s the one who figured it out.”
Kelsey forgot about Scout just as quickly as he noticed her. “Yes, yes, the pool. I was given the rough parameters of the situation. A possessed pool. How exotic.”
“It killed a squirrel,” Doc said, “and it almost killed our weapons man. Threw a two-hundred-pound grill at him.”
“Sounds like an angry pool.” Kelsey laughed at his own joke.
No one else did.
“Come on,” Doc said, taking Kelsey by the arm before Nada pulled his machete out.