A Tangle With Vengeance

By Reese Currie

In Creighton Zee's line of work, you make your friends happy, and your enemies, if they survive, very angry. He and his friends have roused the anger of people so bitterly evil and unimaginably violent, that even his elite team may be helpless against their onslaught. Meanwhile, he and Natalia have roused the love of a young woman they rescued in the past, who goes to the trouble of crossing the country to find them. They find themselves in a tangle with their consciences, their desires, and with their most vicious, deadly enemies yet.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Reese Currie
• Release date: Apr 5, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311359124

Reese Currie

Reese Currie has had the creative writing bug in his soul from a very young age. Now in his middle age, he is finally releasing the floodgates on his passions, including his passion for fiction writing.

Book preview

Chapter One

My name is Creighton Zee, and it was early in December. I was sitting in my office at the lake house I share with my wife Natalia, and I was about to call Dean Smith on Skype. He's a gun dealer; I like to call him my armourer. Sometimes he even participates on a case with me.

A couple of months ago, Dean, Natalia and I had been on a caper in Serbia, where we had killed the vampire Sava Savanovic. A political group had captured Sava, and had hoped to use him to produce an army of vampires in order to help them regain control of Serbia. The vampire had proven to be quite difficult for them to control, and they only had produced three living almost-vampires before we intervened and ended their plans.

After we had ascertained that Sava had been taken against his will, we tried to just let him go, but he came back and attacked us, and we killed him. It wasn't clear which of us killed Sava, me, or Serbia's own paranormal investigator, Dejana Plogojowitz. I shot Sava seven times with our .45 ACP-based, silver and garlic vampire bullet design; then Dejana staked him. Dean believes Sava was going to die even if Dejana hadn't staked him, but I was not so sure. The killing had been complicated by the fact that Sava was able to look at the moon through the window, something that enables vampires to survive gun shots even with the specially designed ammunition. However, I decided that we needed to go back to the drawing board to work out an even better design.

After we got back, Dean and I debated what to do. Dean is a big fan of semi-automatic handguns, and so he wanted me to stick with the present design, because it was the only semi-automatic round we'd been able to get working for the purpose. Our design was based on putting a zero gauge silver wire into a 40 cal shell casing and packing it with garlic, then crimping the end of it and using it as a jacketed bullet on a .45 ACP cartridge.

When we came up with the design, we experimented with a couple of other calibres, but there were several reasons we ended up choosing the .45 ACP. For vampires, the bullet had to deliver its package of silver and garlic directly to the heart. We needed a big bore round in order to guarantee getting through the bones that protected the heart without deflection; however we couldn't have rounds that overpenetrated, because we needed the silver and garlic to stay in the body. It was a difficult balancing act. For semi-automatics, this was even more complicated. We needed enough power to generate enough recoil to operate the slide so the gun would reload itself, without also overpenetrating. Only the .45 ACP had a sufficiently low pressure and speed, and a sufficiently large size, to accomplish both of these objectives.

The problem was, in practice, it didn't kill Sava Savanovic quickly, in one or two shots. It took seven shots and he still wasn't dead when Dejana had to stake him to finish him off. If he had been somewhere we couldn't get to him to stake him, he could have left, regrouped, and come back. Dean blamed Sava's survival of my fusillade on the full moon, but I was concerned that the bullets we had designed simply didn't deliver enough silver and garlic.

I trusted revolvers more personally, so I really didn't care about using a semi-automatic. I thought we might try a .44 Special revolver, because it has a narrower but longer bullet. We had worked out we could fit up to seventeen percent more silver in it, but up to five percent less garlic. With a revolver, because we don't have to worry about operating a slide, we can tweak the powder load to eliminate the possibility of overpenetration without any concerns about the bullet itself affecting the gun's operation. The perennial problem with a revolver was the slow reloading time and the limited number of shots. I had shot Sava seven times without stopping him, but with the typical revolver I would only have six shots before reloading.

In our last conversation, we had come to a bit of an impasse. Dean wanted to stop the discussion so he could do some more research on our revolver options. He admitted that he had been so focused on using a semi-automatic, he hadn't given the revolver options enough thought. When I next called him—in a few minutes—it would be our follow-up conversation.

I had never encountered a vampire outside of Serbia, but I had encountered werewolves in Canada, and the silver-and-garlic-cored bullets were designed to work on both kinds of monster; the garlic was just a bonus for the werewolf, but it was absolutely necessary to slaying a vampire

I have to be a little careful with silver bullets myself, because both I and Natalia are werewolves. We are Christianized werewolves; because we are both believers in Jesus, the effects of our lycanthropy are limited. We don't transform into werewolves, but we experience other side effects both negative and positive.

For instance, we could recover from gunshot wounds with regular, non-silver bullets. We did not recover as quickly as pure werewolves; I guess we probably recover about ten times more slowly than they do.

One very strange side effect for us is we experience hypersexuality on the full moon. On the most recent full moon, in November, we shut our sex-crazed selves in the lake house and made love several times that day.

It sounds good, but it could go badly too. Almost a year ago we had rescued a bisexual girl, Jessie Alexander, from some dirty cops who intended to sell her as a sex slave. She was with us when the full moon came, and Natalia was overcome with lust for her. I wasn't in any better control of myself than Natalia, and we had a few threesome experiences with Jessie, who herself was an eager participant. The power of her lust for Jessie had really bothered Natalia and gave her a great deal of guilt and self-doubt. It bothered me too, because she wasn't Natalia, and she was so young, just twenty-two.

When we were in Serbia, dealing with Sava, the full moon came and Dean and Dejana became extremely attracted to us. Both Natalia and I were afraid the full moon would bring us both homosexual impulses we couldn't control, but fortunately, it didn't happen. We managed to stick with our own partners, but we did end up all having sex in the same bedroom. Well, I guess I touched Dejana a little bit, and Dean touched Natalia a little bit, but for the most part we kept it to ourselves.

These experiences were pretty bizarre and uncomfortable for professing Christians who used to be at least somewhat sexually repressed. We were getting to the point where whatever we did together didn't bother us, but we took steps now to be away from other people when the full moon came.

I sighed and checked the time. Close enough. I put in the call to Dean. He immediately picked up.

Creigh, I've had a great idea on this bullet issue, Dean said.

Hello, I replied, to mock his enthusiasm.

Hello, dammit, Dean said impatiently. Do you want to hear my idea or what?

I laughed. I'm all ears.

Now that I've opened my mind to the possibility of using a revolver, I think I've come up with an almost perfect round to use, he said. It's an incredibly versatile round. It isn't without its drawbacks, though.

What round is it? I asked.

45 Colt, Dean replied. You might have heard of it as 45 Long Colt. The terms are pretty much interchangeable.

Why does it fit the bill?

The main thing is we can use huge slugs, Dean said. We can try to make our bullets after a design like the 325 grain or 350 grain Keith. These are bigger bullets than we could do with .45 ACP or .44 Special. This allows us to add much more silver and more garlic.

How much more?

Almost thirty percent more silver, Dean said. I'm not sure on the garlic without trying it. I think maybe ten or fifteen percent.

That's fantastic, Dean, I said. If that isn't enough to put down a vampire, then maybe the whole idea is flawed.

That's what I think, too, Dean replied. If this doesn't do the trick, nothing will. That's not the only consideration, though.

What else? I asked.

If we get you a strong gun for shooting it, it could deal with a sasquatch too, if you ever needed to again. You can get really high powered 45 Colt ammunition from Buffalo Bore or Cor Bon that will come close to the power of a .44 Magnum. Buffalo Bore makes 45 Colt +P ammunition with 325 grain bullets that I'm pretty sure would do the job.

Do you think Natalia could handle it? I asked.

Maybe not the +P stuff, which can kick pretty hard, Dean said, but normal 45 Colt ammunition has surprisingly low recoil. Most off the shelf ammunition you can get is for cowboy action shooting. It's pretty low powered compared to what is possible with a modern 45 Colt. It has to be, because if you tried using +P ammunition in an old Colt Single Action Army, you would probably blow it up.

What about the vampire-werewolf design? I asked. Would she be able to shoot that?

The ammunition will have a big slug, but it won't need a terribly high amount of powder, Dean said. The recoil won't be bad at all. It will be somewhat stiffer than cowboy action stuff because of the size of the bullet. I've seen her shoot guns with worse recoil.

Well, this all sounds great, I said. What's the downside?

I don't know if this will be a downside for you or not, Dean said. There are fairly few double-action revolvers that shoot 45 Colt. There are two short guns, the Taurus Judge and the Smith & Wesson Governor. I think they're too short for Canada.

I saw a Judge at a gun store up here with a longer barrel, I said. There might be a model that will work.

Okay, Dean said. I don't deal in Taurus, but if you wanted to pick up a Taurus where you are, that would be fine with me. There are three other options I could get you, but I might have to go used to get you a suitable double-action.

Why used? I asked.

The barrel lengths I can get new are either too short for Canada or quite long, Dean said, but in used guns I can get more useful lengths.

Four point two inches would be ideal, I suggested. It was the minimum legal length in Canada.

Indeed, Dean agreed. My double action options are either a Smith & Wesson Model 25 or a Ruger Redhawk. As far as I can tell, new Redhawks only come in .44 Magnum, but I know where to find used ones in 45 Colt.

Is there a big price difference between the Ruger and the Smith? I asked.

Minimal, actually, Dean said. Especially going used.

Is the Redhawk a lot like the GP-100? I asked. My favourite gun in the past was a Ruger GP-100, but I had lost it long ago, in a gunfight with a supremacist group.

More or less identical, other than the calibre, Dean replied. I could also get you a Blackhawk in 45 Colt new, if you think single action would be okay.

Probably not for this, I said. I'd want to be able to reload quickly. Can we get speedloaders for 45 Colt?

Not a problem at all, Dean replied. I take it you want the Redhawk?

Yeah, two if you can get two, and 250 rounds of the silver-cored ammunition, I said. That should be all I'll ever need.

It's not going to cost as much to develop, because it's a revolver, and I'm getting the hang of figuring out the necessary powder charge, Dean said, but the ammunition is going to cost about thirty percent more to make. Dean gave me a price. It was heavy. We had made big money on the Sava Savanovic caper, though, so it was easily affordable right now.

When you see the price of factory 45 Colt for practice, you're going to want to learn how to reload, Dean said. It's over a dollar a round. Why don't I throw in a little Lee handloading kit in 45 Colt to get you started off? You can the other reloading supplies locally.

Sure, I would appreciate that, I replied.

Give me about three weeks to get that out the door, Dean added. I've got to put a rush on it to get it to you before Christmas. This time of year the shipping might take longer.

Oh, right, I said, you're going to go see Dejana for Christmas.

Dean smiled. That's right. I can hardly wait, Creigh. We've really been hitting it off.

I'm glad for you, Dean, I replied. You deserve it.

Thanks Creigh, he said. Well, I might as well get at it. I'll talk to you later.

Later, I said, and Dean disconnected.

Chapter Two

In about four weeks time—four days after another sexually frenzied and exhausting full moon with Natalia—my package arrived at a courier depot in the city. It was a Friday.

My package arrived from Dean, I told Natalia. Want to come into town and get it with me?

Natalia chuckled. You're probably planning on heading straight to the range to try them out.

Maybe, I said coyly.

Natalia pursed her lips for a moment, thinking about it. No, I think I'll give the range a pass for today. I've got some stuff I can wrap while you're gone. Will you be back in time for supper?

I looked at the clock. Maybe I'll skip the range today, too, I said. An hour into town, an hour back; that only leaves about half an hour for shooting. Would you join me on another day?

Natalia smiled. Of course.

Then I'll shoot them another day, I replied, but I still have to pick them up now. I don't want to leave them at the courier depot all weekend.

Natalia laughed, and I took my leave of her. I went out to the driveway, hopped into my Jeep Compass, and made the hour-long drive into town to pick up the package. I was surprised to receive two boxes, but I looked at the labels and it was not a local mistake. The second box contained a rifle that I hadn't ordered. It was probably a labelling error on Dean's end, and I considered sending it back to him right away, but then decided I should take a look at it to know what to do.

After proving that I had the proper authorization to transport the package, I emerged from the courier office, a box full of revolvers and ammunition in one hand, the longer box with the rifle in the other. I awkwardly carried this load past the bus stop that was near the courier depot on the way back to the car, and was surprised to hear a familiar sounding voice shout, Creigh!

I turned around and saw Jessie Alexander coming out of the bus stop and running toward me. I had no idea how I was going to find you, she said breathlessly.

How did you find me? I asked, surprised that anyone who wasn't a cop could find me.

Inspector Lane told me you lived on the east coast of Canada. I was headed for Nova Scotia on a guess, she explained. I didn't think I'd find you here in New Brunswick.

I'm surprised Carl—Inspector Lane—didn't tell me you were coming, I said, feeling mildly irritated with my acquaintance, the RCMP inspector.

He doesn't know, she said with a laugh. His comment was along the lines of, 'you'll never find him, he lives somewhere on the east coast.'

She threw open her arms for a hug, and I didn't know what else to do, so I hugged her. I didn't imagine she knew that the heavy box in my hands, now being held a bit behind her head, contained a couple of fairly powerful revolvers and 250 rounds of silver-cored vampire and werewolf ammunition. Then again, maybe it wouldn't surprise her that much, because she was one of a very few living people who knew werewolves are real, and knew what I did for a living, hunting them and other paranormal beasties, often at the behest of a mysterious government figure named Jack.

Are you happy to see me? she asked, releasing me.

I didn't know what to say. I'm very surprised, I admitted. I'm glad to see that you seem to be doing well.

She had been through a terrible ordeal. She had been kidnapped by some dirty cops, corrupt RCMP officers, who had intended to sell her into sex slavery. We had rescued her, and had to lie low with her while some of their corrupt allies tried to find her. Then, the full moon had come, and what happened, happened. It was a bittersweet memory for me, because as much as the experience upset Natalia, it was also one of the most exciting sexual experiences of our lives. Nevertheless, I didn't think Natalia would have been overjoyed to see her. It would bring back a lot of guilty memories.

Her kidnappers had filled her full of drugs, so I asked, How are you doing? You've gone through withdrawal?

Withdrawal and rehab, Jessie said. The withdrawal was hell. My father didn't help much. My mother had been a drug abuser; that ended their marriage. When he saw me going through withdrawal, he assumed that I had gone on drugs voluntarily.

Not good, I said, wincing. You should have had Inspector Lane talk to him about what happened.

I did, she said. It didn't help. He still assumed I was into drugs, in order to get into that situation in the first place.

She drew a breath. I have nowhere to go for Christmas, she said. I'm not welcome at home.

Is that what brings you out here to me? I asked.

She nodded. Do you think Natalia would be okay with me coming for Christmas?

She had a pretty hard time over what happened between us three, I said frankly. I don't know how she would feel about this.

Jessie looked downcast. Could you find out? she asked. I really have nowhere else to go.

I sighed. I'm sorry if I'm making you feel unwelcome, Jessie, but you must know it's hard.

I know, I'm sorry, she said, looking a little disappointed at my reaction. She bit her lip. I don't have the money for a hotel, let alone the money to get back home.

I looked in her eyes. She had a very pretty face, dirty blonde hair, and though it was mostly masked by her baggy winter clothing, I knew she had a fantastic body hidden beneath it. I sighed again. I really wish you'd called to let us know you were coming, I said.

Her eyes looked a little watery when she said, I didn't have a number for either of you. Does that mean I'm not welcome?

Let me talk to Natalia. Privately, please, I said.

Jessie nodded and walked back toward the bus station. I dialled Natalia's cell.

Hi, honey, she said. Was it the package from Dean?

It was, I replied. I got something unexpected, too.

Oh, what?

I sighed yet again. The courier depot is by the bus station, right?

Yes?

Jessie Alexander came out of the bus station to see me.

There was a pause at the other end of the line. You're kidding.

No, I said. Her father kicked her out when he saw her going through withdrawal. He figured she was on drugs voluntarily, and apparently her mother was an addict when they divorced, so he threw Jessie out.

What kind of father does that? Natalia asked, outraged.

I don't know, I said. A hurt father, I guess. Anyway, she came to the Maritimes looking for us. She didn't even know we were in New Brunswick. I just happened to be here at the same time she was waiting for her next bus to take her to Nova Scotia.

What brings her here? Natalia asked.

She wants to spend Christmas with us, I replied, and to boot, she doesn't have the money for a hotel, or to go back home.

We've got the money to send her home, Natalia said.

That's not a bad idea, I said. I could do that now.

Wait, Natalia said. Give me a minute to think.

I waited patiently. I glanced over at Jessie, who stood by the bus terminal waiting. I was amused to see that she had her fingers crossed.

Natalia sighed into the phone. If she had called and told me this story, I would have let her stay with us.

She reminded me that she didn't have our numbers, I said.

I know, Natalia replied. There was another pause, and she said, The chances of you crossing her path are so slim, it almost seems like a sign to help her.

I hadn't thought of that, I admitted.

Bring her, Natalia said.

Are you sure? I asked.

No, she said, but we have to do something, and I'd rather err on the side of kindness.

Chapter Three

Jessie was overjoyed. She squealed, jumped, hugged me, and kissed my cheek. Sorry, she said, wiping off the kiss. Just let me get my bags, okay?

I'll come with you and help you to my car with them, I said.

I don't think so, Jessie said, looking at the packages I was already holding, but you can walk with me.

On second thought, I decided not to go into the bus terminal with the packages I had, so I wanted outside while she went in and retrieved her bags. We walked to my Jeep Compass; I opened the back and put my packages and her bags inside.

I don't remember you having this car, she said.

This is my car, the one I left here in the Maritimes when I came to BC, I replied. The Camry is Natalia's car.

Oh, yeah, right, she said. I forgot that. So, Natalia is okay with seeing me, then?

Yes, but let's wait to talk about Natalia until we're with Natalia, I requested.

Jessie nodded. You are such a classy guy, she said. You're right.

I remembered us having sex with this youngster and didn't recall anything about that which would make anyone conclude I was a classy guy; a dirty old man, maybe. A dirty middle-aged man to be more precise.

So we talked a bit about New Brunswick as we drove. I went home to the lake house via a more scenic route than usual, avoiding the divided highways to show her some of the prettier sights in the area, choosing a route in which water was frequently visible.

I had heard that New Brunswick was all trees, Jessie commented.

I laughed. It's close to being all trees, I said. This is a particularly scenic route.

I made a turn. Jessie saw my left hand on the wheel and asked, Is that a wedding ring?

It sure is, I replied.

Jessie squealed again. She was more squealy than I remembered. Congratulations! she exclaimed. I can hardly wait to see Natalia!

I thought the feeling probably wasn't mutual, but I didn't say it. Thanks, I replied.

Soon, I was driving us down the approach road to the house, and the large lake we lived on could be seen through the trees. There was light snow coming down, but I couldn't see to the other side of the lake, so I guessed there was more snow coming down than it seemed.

We live on a lake, I explained.

This is so beautiful, Jessie commented with wonder in her voice.

We rode in silence for a couple of minutes.

It must be really hard to leave this place to go on these missions of yours, Jessie commented.

It can be, I admitted. It's been a few months since we've been hired for one.

Oh, she said in a small voice. I hope things are okay for you financially.

Never been better, I replied truthfully. We had made an unusually large haul on the vampire caper. I could probably go another two or three years without working. I was nevertheless a little concerned that Jack hadn't called with anything for me to do. The last time I'd been in contact with him, I had tracked him to his house, learned his name really was Jack and his last name was Hollingsworth, that his office was