Read Full Moonster [BUREAU 13 Book Three] for Free Online Page B

lawyers?” she asked in shock.
    Grimly, he gave a nod. “Yep."
    With her butterfly flapping nervously, Katrina muttered something appropriate in Russian. “So were-creatures stealing wallets is impossible?"
    "Absolutely,” I stated.
    "Then how came this to be?"
    There she had us stumped. Lifting my wrist, I activated my wristwatch, established a relay link with our van and turned on the scrambler circuit.
    "Calling Merlin's Tower,” I said loud and clear. Hopefully the transmission could be heard. The Rocky Mountains were dense enough to foul anybody's communications system.
    "This is Merlin's Tower,” the Voice of the Bureau answered. “Identify, please."
    "This is Team Tunafish. Report number 3 for 7/26."
    "Stardate 4132.96,” Raul muttered.
    Gently, Mindy slapped him up the back of the head, and he grinned in sheepish embarrassment.
    Mages, sigh. I shot him a disapproving glare, and then continued, “We have a multiple slaying on a country road outside Hadleyville, West Virginia. Indications are that the killing was possibly done by intelligent werewolves."
    "By what?” crackled the Voice from my watch.
    Amused expressions came from the team. It was the first time the Voice of the Bureau had ever interrupted a field report.
    "Intelligent werewolves,” I repeated slowly, driving the point home. “There may be a link between the deaths and the ethereal explosion of yesterday. We will investigate, and report every 30 minutes from this mark.” I hit a button on my watch and it gave a musical beep. D-flat, I believe. “If we miss two reports consider this area a Class Alpha Three hot zone and send in General MacAdams and the Phoenix Squad."
    A short whistle of astonishment started, but then was cut short. Must be a new guy at Communications. “Ah, acknowledged, Tunafish."
    "Roger, base. Over and out."
    "Over and out,” the tiny speaker crackled.
    Shaking my watch to terminate the transmission, I grimly reached into a pocket and started screwing a Bureau 13 silencer onto the barrel of my Model #42 ultra-lightweight Magnum. The muzzle blast of my heavy-duty Model #66 gave even magical silencers an annoying tendency to explode, which simply ruined my aim. However, I made good-and-goddamn sure both pistols were loaded with blessed silver bullets.
    "Okay,” I announced, easing the cylinders closed. “The stolen cars will take hours to trace, so let's follow the forest trail. Maybe we can find the transdimensional hole, the flying saucer these things landed in, or whatever caused these freaks."
    Steadfast, my team murmured assent.
    I clicked back both hammers. “On foot. Standard formation. Single file, one meter spread. Mindy on point. George take the rear."
    "Check."
    "No problem, Ed."
    As we entered the thick array of bushes, I noted a faded sign on the road that boasted: ‘Welcome to Hadleyville. Population 2,572.’ Somehow, I doubted the first and seriously wondered about the validity of the second.
    We lost sight of the carnage proceeding into the morass of low bushes, tall trees and wide shrubbery that composed the dense West Virginia forest. In ragged stages, the cool, lush greenery swallowed us whole. Then the plants attacked.
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CHAPTER THREE
    In a wild explosion of green and brown, the bushes raked at our faces, weeds whipped our legs, and trees slammed their limbs towards our heads. Even the very grass under our feet moved trying to trip us. Cursing in a dozen languages, my team stumbled into a defensive circle firing every weapon we owned.
    "Alex Haley!” I cried aiming my Magnums for the roots. A thorny vine ripped away the front of my shirt exposing the molded body armor underneath. As my bullets blasted the vine apart, sticky sap spraying into the air, I made a mental note that I must get tougher shirts.
    "Huey, Dewey and Louie!” George shouted, and we all ducked.
    In a stuttering roar, his banjo began spiting flame. For a single moment, the protective illusion faded