Chapter 6: Reds and Menace

Dean cracked his back as he stretched against the vinyl interior of the Impala. The sun was low in the sky, a sign that the brothers had started their morning as they had the previous four-far too early on the road. In the distance a white and blue sign was beginning to appear, slowly growing as it appeared on the horizon. Sam glanced at the clock on the dash, it was nearly eight which meant that the morning rays would soon be appearing, then slowly melt into another blue sky as they finally neared their destination. As they continued down the stretch of empty road the sign became legible, "Welcome to Alaska-US Checkpoint Ahead".

Dean sighed as he lit his fifth cigarette of the morning and inhaled for a moment before he spoke, "I still don't understand why they've got us all the way out here. Hell, Alaska isn't even a state-it's just a bunch of snow and useless ground that Seward got us a few decades ago. Even if there is something going on none of the files they gave us have anything worthwhile."

Sam shrugged, he agreed that the case information had been light, but at the moment it was what they were assigned to. "At the moment it's what we've got to do. I think it might be some sort of test, if we can manage this they'll see we're loyal and actually give us something decent next time." He paused as they saw the border checkpoint approaching, "Here's your badge." He handed Dean his ID as he got his own out of the glove-box.

"Thanks." Dean nodded as he pulled up to what might charitably called a shack. The small wooden structure had an overhang that extended across the two-lane road and a single chain that was draped across the lanes to keep vehicles from driving through (though even going at thirty Dean was confident that the Impala could have snapped through the flimsy looking links). As the car came to a stop he saw a man stir behind the single plate-glass window and open the door beside him.

The man who shuffled out of the checkpoint was wearing a blue and grey uniform that barely stretched over his large belly. He rubbed his hands slightly as he walked over to the car and pushed up his glasses so that he could read the clipboard he held. "Good morning. Do you boys have some sort of ID I can take a look at?" He spoke as he clicked a pen and looked down into the car window.

"Sure thing." Dean said as he handed the heavy-set official his and Sam's badges.

The man glanced at the badges, then back at the boys. "You two are the fifth agents we've had through here in the last week. I would know, it's only me and Charlie who work here. Everything alright?"

Dean smiled tightly, "Would that I could tell you, but at the moment everything's still under investigation. You know how it is with the reds-gotta make sure they're all taken care of."

The man's brow rose in concern as he handed the badges back, prompting Sam to add, "Everything's fine. Forgive my brother; he likes to get a rise out of people. We're just here to help out some of the other agents with something. The Soviets aren't here, you're fine." The man nodded, still somewhat concerned but not nearly as much as when Dean had first spoke. He unchained the road and waved the two through. Soon enough he was just a speck in the distance.

"You know you shouldn't have done that." Sam said as he pulled out his scolding bitch-face.

Dean rolled his eyes as he continued driving, "Oh come on, one of the best parts of this job is screwing with the local LEs. And now we have government backing so we can actually get away with it." He glanced over at Sam who was clearly not having any of it.

"Just because we can doesn't mean we should. And besides, the guy wasn't a cop; he was a border patrol agent." He paused, continuing his half-glare, "Also, if you are so immature you can't resist doing so, at least don't make people think the world is going to end. Everyone already has enough stress with the Ruskies actually setting off a hydrogen bomb."

Dean reddened slightly, "Fine, I won't joke about the Soviets."

"And?"

"And I promise that next time I mess with someone it won't be close enough to you to offend your delicate sensibilities." Dean snarked.

Sam sighed, knowing it was about as good as it was going to get out of his brother.

**SPN**

It was nearing five when the two pulled into the parking lot of the "Igloo Icebox". The motel was an upgrade to what the brothers were accustomed to-given how their board was now covered as part of their expenses for work. The two-story white brick building seemed to be one of the newest structures in the area. Fairbanks was a small town (only around 10,000), but it seemed to be growing given how the outskirts had a large number of newer looking businesses and homes. It was the last 'major' town on the way to Menace, so it was where the brothers were spending the night.

After getting the key and entering their room on the second floor the two got out the sparse files they'd been given to review a final time before going to the small fishing village.

"Menace, originally named Minik (an Inuit word for splash), was established in 1897 by Americans who had come to the region searching for gold but had found more success in fishing. The town was a mixture of these individuals as well as native Inuit people. Everything was relatively quiet in the town until two weeks ago when a single distress radio signal was sent out. When local authorities arrived the town was deserted." Dean looked up from the notes, "Seriously, that's all we know?"

"What do you expect? We're the first two agents from The Center, all the others have been keeping it roped off from the public." Sam said as he flopped onto the mattress. "You know, it's almost funny. We're actually feds. For all the years we pretended to be, we actually ended up as honest-to-God agents. Imagine if dad could see us now."

"Yeah…" Dean looked down. "He'd tell us that he didn't raise us to be suits, just to act like them…" He sighed, "Do you miss him?"

"Of course I do." Sam said as he looked up at the ceiling. "Growing up might've sucked sometimes, but he wasn't bad."

"I wish I could've been here. Because of that stupid fucking draft I was in the middle of the Pacific while he was ripped to shreds…" Dean clenched his teeth.

"Dean, even if you were here you couldn't have done anything more than I did. That werewolf… it came out of nowhere." Sam sat up and tried to get Dean to look at him.

"If I was here I could've at least tried!"

"It's been thirteen years; you have to let something go for once in your life. It sucks, believe me, I was there and saw it happen! But we can't change the past." Sam sighed. "I know he'd be proud of you." He got up and sat across from Dean at the table and forced his head up to look at him, "Whenever you wrote he always showed it off to any of the other hunters at the roadhouse. Even if stuff is weird now, I'm sure he'd still be proud of you." You were always the favorite, anyway.

Dean had a slight twinge at the corner of his mouth before he glanced at the clock on the wall. "It's not even six. What'd'ya say we get something to eat and cut all this emotional crap?"

Sam exhaled, "Sure."