Chapter 12.

L. A. SEWER SYSTEM
SEPT. 25, 1999
(2:11 P. M./PST)

Angel ran through the sewers until he got to an exit overlooking the Los Angeles River bed. Then, he got out his cellphone to make sure it had good reception. Then, he hit the speed dial setting for a certain phone number in Sunnydale, California.

"Hello?" said the voice of the person who picked up.

"Riley? It's me."

"Angel?!" exclaimed First Sergeant Riley Finn: "What's up? Did you get hold of the escapees?"

"Not yet. Something else has come up. Tell me something. Has the Initiative recently branched out into genetic engineering?"

"What?"

"Have your people been putting Newcomer DNA into captive were-rats?" Angel demanded (in a louder, harsher tone of voice).

"Are you crazy?" the young marine shouted back: "Of course not! Why would you even ask such a thing?"

So, Angel told him. The whole sordid story. . .including the Abomination's veiled hint. When he had finished, Riley's next question was quite logical (though still somewhat shrill).

"And, you believed him?"

"Not entirely."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means my first guess was probably half-right. That that thing really was a Shadow Seer! Only Tremere-Embraced, instead. Because, Clan Tremere, as a whole, got its start by _experimenting_ on vampires. So, I wouldn't put it past their Mexican branch to do the same thing, using Ratkin and Newcomers. Especially, if it might give them a bigger toe-hold, here in L. A., than they already have!"

"Holy Crap!" Riley muttered (as the realization sank in): "That's a frightening concept, Angel."

"Agreed. But, even Clan Tremere would need someone from the BNA, in their back pocket, to camouflage large numbers of disappearances from Little Tencton. So, is there anyone from the Initiative who might be willing to look into that possibility for you? Discretely, of course!"

"I suppose I could ask Giles to intercede with Maggie Walsh, in that regard."

"Giles?" echoed Angel, in puzzlement.

"Oh, yeah," chortled Riley: "Our head of research and new deputy mayor have become quite the item since Graduation Day! Giving Giles' other title, of 'local governmental liaison,' a whole new meaning."

Angel shuddered: "Now, that concept. . .is even more frightening."

* * * * *

CLOTHES ENCOUNTERS,
BEVERLY HILLS, CAL.
(ONE HOUR EARLIER)

George Francisco was momentarily stunned by the use of his real name.

"Who. . .?" he began to ask.

Only for Og-Ra to suddenly roar at the top of his lungs; back hand the axe-wielding Newcomer; and, then, charge towards George at full speed. George tried to re-establish a bead on him. But, to no avail. In less time than it takes to tell, he had been lifted off the ground! His throat clutched in the vise-like grip of Og-Ra's right hand.

"Many in my clan have wondered if you Newcomers might have better-tasting vitae than humans. Let us put that to the test. Shall we?"

Og-Ra brought his fangs and George's neck to a convenient half-way point. Just as they were about to meet, however, the Assamite-bonded Nosferatu heard a sudden rush of air from behind him. Followed instantly by the sound of. . .

"Thunk."

"AR-R-R-R-R-R-RGH! ! ! ! !"

George was immediately dropped to the ground, where he spent the first few seconds coughing and gasping for air. As he did so, Og-Ra turned around. Vainly trying to remove the silver battleaxe wedged into the small of his back. Vanessa Helsing's aim had been too good, however! Nor was she slow in following up her advantage. Yelling at the top of _her_ lungs, she now charged forward. Springing upward, at the last second, and then bringing her left-handed battleaxe, downward, in a two-handed grip.

Thereby cleaving Og-Ra's skull in two.

By the time Vanessa landed in a crouch, the Nosferatu's skeleton was already disintegrating. Leaving her right-handed battleaxe free for recovery. Only, as soon as she reached for it, she was interrupted by a shout of. . .

"FREEZE!"

The Newcomer female looked up toward Rudyard Kipling's window. And, there, looking down at her, was Detective Kate Lockley. With a stainless steel S&W Model 5906 semi-auto pistol in 9 millimeter aimed right at her head! This, in turn, left Vanessa no other choice. She swiftly extended her right arm upward in Kate's direction. . .and fired (via compressed air) a long length of silver chain known as a manrikigusari. Its weighted end wrapping itself around the barrel of the gun, so that Vanessa was able to disarm the detective with one pull!

When that had been accomplished, Vanessa picked up the spare battleaxe and fled towards the nearest manhole cover. A goal she managed to accomplish, despite the near-misses from Kate's back-up gun (a .357 magnum S&W Model 65 Ladysmith revolver).

* * * * *

ONE PARKER PLACE
(90 MINUTES LATER)

"Admit it, Mr. Harcourt," demanded George: "You are not the true owner of the King O' Clubs. You are just the figurehead! And your nightclub is merely a money-laundering front for the Trimerez Cartel in Tijuana."

Matt Sykes turned down the intercom receiver in the dimly-lit room behind the one-way mirror of Interrogation Room #1. He had done enough interrogating, himself, to know when someone was either going to refuse to answer. . .or just outright lie. And William Harcourt's first two syllables of response had been proof enough, in his book, that Harcourt was going to do a lot of the latter!

Instead, he concentrated on what Kate Lockley had just finished telling him.

"A spotless-headed Newcomer?!"

"Well, that's what he superficially resembled," replied Kate: "Those extra-long fangs of his, though, were definitely more reminiscent of Dracula!"

"Whoa-whoa-whoa!" exclaimed Sykes: "Dracula? Let's not go overboard here, Kate. The last thing we want to do is start a rumor about Newcomer hit men who go around acting like hyperthyroid vampires!"

"I understand," she countered: "But, let's not forget that the Tenctonese, as we know them, are the result of genetic engineering. So, they might have had remarkably _different_ appearances, on half the other planets they visited, during the hundreds of years before they reached Earth. And, who's to say that only the slaves were genetically altered, along the way?"

Sykes' posture suddenly became more rigid as he flashed back to the "Red Room" case. . .as well as the run-in with Norman Conquest.

"Are you suggesting. . .that the Newcomers' mysterious masters might've had genetically souped-up spies and assassins?"

Kate nodded: "I think it's a distinct possibility."

Just at that moment, Detective Sgt. Dobbs came back in from the other sound-proofed interrogation room.

"How did you do with Kipling?" Kate immediately asked.

The African-American police detective shook his head.

"His side of things is naturally a little different from yours. In fact, he claims that this Og-Ra must have been wearing a bullet-proof vest under his Nehru jacket! Hence, the failure of the Ruger Redhawk to stop him."

Kate instantly clenched her fists as she struggled not to lose her temper.

"That's bullcrap, Freddy! I was there, too. And, I'm telling you that those four bullets did not hit any vest. Because they didn't flatten on impact. They penetrated right through the attacker's epidermis!"

"And, we believe you," replied Sykes: "But, without corroboration from the two would-be victims, there's not much we can do. Except, release them."

Dobbs nodded in affirmation: "And, that's exactly what Captain Grazer's ordered."

* * * * *

ANGEL INVESTIGATIONS
(4:30 P. M./PST)

Angel got back to the office just after three o' clock. An hour later, seeing as business was still somewhat slow for the fledgling "detective agency," he used that as an excuse to send Jill Moloskey home early. And, as if on cue, no sooner had she boarded the elevator for the first floor than the phone on her desk rang.

"Angel? It's Riley. You alone?"

"Just me and Doyle."

"OK. Here's the Cliff Notes version. Giles talked to Walsh about sending someone up your way to look into a Ratkin Abomination 'sighting.' Completely unofficially, of course! And, Walsh agreed. As far as that other thing you encountered? I'm afraid there's nothing on our database list of HST's that matches your description.* Although, you'll have to admit: ' bug-eyed, overgrown Oscar statue that hops around like Spring-heels Jack' isn't exactly textbook phrasing!"

"Well, couldn't you broaden the web search, somehow?" Angel almost shouted in his frustration.

"I suppose I could do a generic search of all the cryptozoology and conspiracy theory websites."

"That'd be great!" Angel hurriedly agreed: "Get back to me, soon as you can. Thanks!"

The connection was severed before the young marine could formulate the slightest protest.

tbc

*HST's: Hostile Subhuman Terrestrials (Initiative-speak for "evil monsters").