[tshiggins]

(...continued)

Given the circumstances, and the presence of the McShane library in A.J.’s basement, Frank decided to keep an eye on the engineer’s home, as much as he could, and Doc Bascher and Henrietta thought they should do the same.

That paid off, the next day, when Doc Bascher drove down the long county road that led to the scenic canyon subdevelopment that held A.J.’s home, and saw a white SUV parked on the shoulder, about a half-mile from the house. The veterinarian called Frank with the license plate number, who ran the check and discovered records for a vehicle registered to a rental place near the airport in Salt Lake City. A quick call told Frank the renter of record was one Bill Smith, of Milwaukee, Wisconsin.

Suspecting the name might be fake, Frank drove his cruiser out to the county road, only to discover that the car had left. Based on Doc Bascher’s description, he soon found where it had been parked, and took a look around. He found prints of two sets of hiking boots that disappeared into the brush, in the general direction of A.J.’s house.

Frank rang up A.J. and found out the NASA engineer, Sunmi and his friends had completed the purchase of the SUV and would arrive back in Moab a bit after dusk. Frank then called Doc Basher, Henrietta and Randy (Beatrice was working at the airfield) to meet with the returning group, and then proceed out to A.J.’s house, together. After that, he called JoCat and Jimmy, and told them to stay in Grand Junction (they actually went to McShane’s home in Paonia, about 70 miles from there).

As soon as the group arrived back in Moab from the trip to Las Vegas, they met up at a trail head about a mile from A.J.’s house, and worked up a plan. A.J., Frank (not in uniform) and Stephen would drive up to the garage in A.J.’s new SUV, and check the house. Meanwhile, the ladies (Doc Bascher, Henrietta, Sunmi and Claudia), plus Randy, would hike up to the house and move through the brush to find a position to act as backup.
For her part, Doc Bascher declared that if things went pear-shaped in a serious way, she planned to dial 911 and get Grand County Sheriff’s deputies out there to help, pronto.

With that, the group split up and the ladies and Randy started walking. Frank, A.J. and Stephen gave them a 10-minute head start, and then drove slowly through the twilight to A.J.’s nice house and extensive grounds. Stephen had popped the trunk of his car, earlier, and the former Marine Harrier pilot now carried the rifle he kept there.

As the SUV arrived, Doc Bascher and Sunmi spotted what they thought might be movement on the ridge to the west of A.J.’s home (really good Perception rolls, in the fading light of dusk), and called Frank. Neither he nor any of the other two in the driveway spotted anything, nor did Henrietta, Claudia or Randy.

A.J. triggered the garage door remotely, but then paused just outside to let Frank out so the trooper could go check the machine-shop on the east end of the grounds (where they’d built the two steam-buggies, parked inside). Neck prickling, Frank turned his back to the ridge-line and started up the dirt path to the machine-shop, as A.J. parked the car and he and Stephen walked to the front door.

As they reached the front door, A.J. felt his shin hit a wire, and a suddenly a flare shot up into the sky from beyond the edge of the porch. Frank whipped around, saw what was happening, dashed toward the machine-shop and told A.J. to open the overhead door, there, remotely. A.J. said he would, and then jumped through the plate-glass window just to the left of the door so he could get under cover, with Stephen hard on his heels.

Frank reached the wall of the large machine ship and went into a crouch, just as automatic weapon fire from the ridge-line peppered the area around him. He threw himself prone just as a larger-caliber bullet slammed into the wall just above him, and he asked that A.J. please hurry up and open the door.

A second later, the bullet from the larger rifle exploded, and blew a large chunk out of the stucco wall above the trooper.
A.J. triggered the remote to open the door, as he and Stephen rose to their feet and began to move toward the west end of the house. The ladies sought targets on the ridgeline as Doc Bascher hit her speed-dial button for 911, but the shooters had gone to ground.

Randy, realizing he’d once again brought fists to a gunfight, began to weave his way through the scrub oak toward the machine-shop, so he could at least render First Aid if Frank got shot. Sunmi began to follow, a second later, as Henrietta, Doc Bascher and a freaked-out Claudia took cover in the dark shadows cast by the overhead flare.

The automatic weapons’ fire continued to pepper the area around Frank, but the extreme range meant the shooter had little chance to hit him. Frank realized it was just meant to pin him down until the other shooter could get a good bead on him, and began to chant “Hurry, hurry, hurry!” as the door to the machine-shop inched its way up. Two second later (and two more chunks of blown-out stucco), he rolled beneath the door and covered his head as the fourth exploding bullet slammed into it.

That was the last of the shooting, as the gunmen had no more obvious targets (Randy and Sunmi were moving well through the scrub oak). A.J. led Stephen down into the basement, and through the door that led to the tunnel to the well on the West end of the property. However, they couldn’t spot anybody upon the ridge, from there, and sirens were approaching rapidly, anyway.

The Grand County deputies arrived pretty quickly, after that, and a few minutes later began to move cautiously up the ridge. After about 30 minutes of hunting through the darkness, they found the nest where the shooters had been, and followed them further west until they reached another county road.

Unwilling to continue a potentially dangerous search through the night, and figuring the shooters had probably climbed into a waiting vehicle anyway, everybody tramped back to A.J.’s house and the deputies took (mostly factual) statements from everybody. A bit flabbergasted by the events, the deputies asked if maybe Stephen or Claudia had any enemies that would do such a thing and, when the received the negative, began to theorize that it might be related to A.J.’s “stolen” SUV.

Things settled down over the course of the next couple of days, as the group pondered their next move. Now that the ultors likely knew the location of A.J.’s house, but also that the group had good relations with the local police, the SAR team figured they wouldn’t try anything so blatant, again. However, that also meant they couldn’t leave the library in the basement, and that meant they needed to do another shell-game with SUVs and the camper, to move them.

This they commenced, and the library wound up in the outbuilding at Doc Bascher’s place that used to hold the nunnupi. That same evening, Frank learned that officers with the Provo PD had found the white SUV abandoned just outside of that town, and he guessed the group had likely managed to relocate the books, safely.

That left them with nothing to do except prepare for the imminent opening of the portal, set for the evening of October 23-24. A.J., his guests and Sunmi prepared the equipment for some new readings. On the morning of the 23rd, just before they left for Dark Canyon, the members of the team who had studied spells retired to their respective sacred spaces, and prepared those they wished to have available – including some of the new “Protection and Warning” spells, as well as those meant for healing.

Everything seemed to go reasonably smoothly, until Sunmi completed one of her healing rituals, only to see bright pink smoke boil out of her chalice, coalesce on the floor, and swirl up to reveal what appeared to be a terribly cute little Japanese teenaged girl in a school uniform, with bright green hair.

Sunmi let out a squeak of dismay, and asked the girl who she was and where she came from. The girl replied that she was a spirit who had been drawn to Sunmi by the presence of magic, combined with Sunmi’s deep inner needs.

(continued...)