Page 6 of Concluded
Maybe he should just take up drinking.
As he considered whether to take a nap or send for a bucket of pho, his phone buzzed.He didn’t recognize the number, which had a 209 area code.
Hey Spanos let me into your bldg.
Huh.That had to be a new form of spam texting.He ignored it, but then another message came through a minute later.Let me in or Im gonna crash thru that big bedroom window and thats gonna cost you a fortune to fix.
Crash through his window?What the hell?Who is this?he demanded, wishing there was some way to display anger and righteous indignation without resorting to emojis.
Your friendly neighborhood dragon.
“Shit.”Although Achilles frowned, there was a part of his psyche that cheered up like a neglected dog given a friendly pat.He didn’t know why Ralph Crespo was here.For all Achilles knew, Crespo was here to barbecue him as punishment for not sticking with the Bureau.But at least it meant that Achilles wasn’t being ignored.Or forgotten.
He opened the security app and pressed the button to buzz Crespo in.Then he took his time hauling himself off the couch and to his front door, which he opened.A few moments later the elevator doors parted, and a man in jeans and a red flannel shirt walked toward him.
“You look like shit,” said Crespo by way of greeting.
“And you look like a low-rent Paul Bunyan.”
Crespo laughed.“Let me in.We gotta talk.”
Decades ago—long before Achilles was born, in fact—Crespo had been a Bureau agent.According to gossip, he’d been around almost since the agency started.But eventually he’d quit and moved to the Sierra foothills, where he occasionally did some contract gigs for the Bureau.Now and then, a dragon came in handy.Achilles had worked with him briefly three or four times and had respected—as well as been slightly envious of—his abilities.
“Nice place,” said Ralph once he entered.“We’ve had our couch since 1973 and Anton refuses to get rid of the thing, but maybe he’d consider trading it for one like yours.Hang on.”He used his phone to snap a few pictures of the piece in question before sprawling on one end of it.He was a tall man with salt-and-pepper hair and eyes that shifted colors as if lit by a disco ball.
Achilles gingerly sat down in his armchair.Movements like that still hurt.“Did you fly here?”He didn’t mean via airplane.
“Drove.Gets me a lot less attention and it’s a lot easier to bring a suitcase.I’m working on a job for Charles, but he asked me to drop in on you while I was in the neighborhood.”
The puppy inside Achilles wagged its tail, although Achilles was cautious.“What does the chief want?”
Crespo screwed up his face and rubbed the back of his head.“It’s a mess, isn’t it?I mean, I’ve seen bad before—hell, I served in the Marines back in the forties, and that was….But this feels like it could be worse.”
“Whatdoes?”Although Achilles had been avoiding the news, he had some sense of what was going on in the world.He didn’t know whether Crespo’s looming apocalypse was related to those current events or something else.
“Just the vibe.Last year there was some hinky shit in Wyoming, and Charles is spooked.I thinkTenrael’s spooked, and that’s not good, my friend.Not good at all.”Crespo looked at his hands as if the answer might be there, then shrugged.“So I’m doing what I can.”
Achilles didn’t know if that was meant to be a jibe at him, since he was doing nothing at all.“What does the chief want?”he repeated.
“Just a little mission.You can do it on a contract basis if you want, but Charles hasn’t processed your resignation yet, so you can just keep pulling regular pay.”
“Iquit.Turned in my badge and gun.”
“Nevertheless.Look, all he wants you to do is make a little trip to Portland.There’s a guy up there who’s important somehow.Charles hasn’t shared the details with me, and honestly, I don’t really care.I trust him.He wants you to talk the guy into meeting with him, I think so Charles can recruit him.”
A startled laugh escaped Achilles’ throat.“Is someone who just resigned because he couldn’t deal with it anymore really the best recruiter?”
“No idea.He already sent someone else.Abe Ferencz.Do you know him?”
“Heard of him.”Ferencz had also been an agent way back in the early years, along with his partner, Thomas Donne.“Is he still alive?What is he?”The Bureau employed a fair number of NHSs—nonhuman species, such as Crespo—and some of them had very long lifespans.
“He’s human, but kind of a special case.He’s sort of come out of retirement recently.”Crespo’s expression was sorrowful.“God, I miss Thomas.Abe used to call him a mensch and Thomas would pretend to be annoyed, and….When Tom died, Abe was a little lost for a while.Poor guy.”
“Did a monster get him?”
Crespo snorted.“A monster called lung cancer.But he was ninety, which is a good run for a human, and he and Abe had a lot of happy years together.”
“Oh.”It was stupid to be envious of a dead man, but still….
