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A/N - Again apologize for the delay. Starting Grad school, so I've been a bit busy moving and getting situated. Now we're getting to the fun parts of the story. Clean save for some coarse language. All characters and situations fictional. Some liberties taken for plot advancement.

Chapter 3 - The Weight of Truth

"In a time of universal deceit, telling the truth is a revolutionary act."

George Orwell

Thompson State Forest

New London, NH

The heavy rain poured down on from the grim black sky as if pouring from some divine waterfall. The dark clouds completely obscured the typically exquisite night sky, marred tonight only by the full moon which outshone the tiny stars, or rather would have had they been visible. Intermittent bursts of light stabbed from the ground to the sky, seeming to rip the black sky in two, punctuated with the powerful peal of thunder behind it. The sounds of the forest were muffled by the thick sheets of water cascading through the pines. Well, almost all the sounds.

The loud breathing was audible if you tried to hear it; small, inefficient lungs tried to effectively exchange air and fill the blood with oxygen. The rapid, panicked footfalls clambered through the forest as their creator stumbled and slipped through the dark and treacherous woods, the loose fertile soil having rapidly given way to slick, oozing mud. The sounds continued to make meandering, slow progress toward the eastern edge of the forest...toward what the interloper regarded as safety.

Safety from the monsters which followed her.

Monsters who wanted to kill her...just because of who she was...because of what they were.

A cabin just outside Thompson State Forest

New London, NH

I awoke to the steady thrumming of a powerful rainfall on the roof over my head and the expansive stand of green pine trees outside. Looking around the small cabin, I noticed one major fact.

It was still dark. A quick glance at my watch showed that it wasn't even 4AM.

'That's odd. Usually I wake to the sun.'

My gut was churning...usually when I was awoken from a deep slumber something was wrong. I look around the dark cabin, warily expecting some evil monster to stride out of the shadows. Slowly reaching into the small bedside table, I removed my flashlight. The floor lamp was in the other room, and the desk lamp was across the room. This small flashlight was all I had within reach, but would do.

My flashlight played across the dark, rough hewn dresser and cabinets, across the desk, still strewn with the contents of the case folders that I had brought from Boston. The powerful white spot crossed the suit cavalierly hung over the chair behind the small writing desk where my laptop and those case folders sat

Nothing seemed out of place...but something was off. My gut felt as if it was screaming at me, a feeling I had only felt two or three times before. All of these times, well, I nearly died...and, of those times, someone else always did. Reaching into the same bedside table where I had kept my flashlight, I removed my sidearm. I knew that I looked strange, flashlight in one hand, .45 in the other, still clad only in a pair of boxers and undershirt, but...my gut had never been wrong before.

I moved into the kitchen and dining area, again seeing nothing but the stands of trinkets along the walls and the old china dishes on the counters. A flash lights the room and I quickly jump, startled, before I realize that it is simply thunder. I continue my inspection, moving toward the living room and its front door.

Playing my light across the room I see the simple sofa and wood chair sitting before the stone fireplace, with only dark black charcoal to mark the fire that had been roaring only hours before. The large wooden plank door stood as a monolith in the center of the long wall. I walked toward it, making sure that it was locked, feeling the heavy catch that prevented anyone outside the cabin from entering.

Feeling only partially reassured, I turned to walk back to the bedroom when it happened.

Thump went the door. And then...

Silence.

I walked quietly toward the door, half expecting the door to explode inward on me in a shower of wooden splinters and shattered glass. The only motion I could see in the two flanking windows was the periodic flashes of lightning which flared the windows sporadically and covered the inside of the small cabin in deep black shadows of reaching trees. Smirking internally I realized that this was a perfect example of what not to do in a horror movie...but...this was no movie, it was life...and 'I'm not some idiot blonde cheerleader with just a flashlight.' My Springfield weighed heavily in my hand as I took up a position and stood next to the door and twisted the knob, quickly throwing the door open. I looked out into the black night and saw something that, right now, I didn't expect to see.

Nothing. Looking out I saw just the downpour ahead of me and the expanse of pine trees that marked the edge of the forest. The bright flashes of lightning sporadically lighting the area do nothing to reveal the source of either my churning gut or the thud on my door. The pounding rain creates a dull roar in my ears, a roar which seems to drown out any other sound in the area. Shaking my head, I start to close the door and hear it.

Whimpering.

Looking around, I see a small shape hiding in the corner of the porch, pale, pink legs sticking out from under the Adirondack chairs that adorned the rustic porch. Swinging my flashlight to that point, I quickly step out onto the porch, swiveling so that I have a clear view of whoever is out there.

"Come out of there now or I'll pull you out. You have five seconds. Five. Four. Three."

On three, the small shape began to slowly back out of the small pool of light from my flashlight. I was shocked. It was a young girl, no more than maybe twelve. Her long, brown hair was completely disheveled and her skin covered in small scratches and mud. The grotesque shape of her right wrist told me that it was probably dislocated at best, broken at worst. She was also completely nude.

"What are you doing out here...and...why are you naked? Nuts," I blustered, "Let's get inside and try to take a look at that hand." I walked toward her and offered her some help up. All of the cuts across her skin seemed superficial, and none were actively bleeding, but I figured that we should get her inside, anyway.

Getting her inside was simple enough. She simply walked inside in front of me. I closed the door behind us, making certain that it locked as I shut it behind us, setting my light and sidearm on the table next to the small couch. The girl had sat down in one of the stuffed chairs that flanked the sofa, facing the large stone fireplace that dominated the living room.

Looking at her in the lamplight from the small table lamp that lit the room, the girl looked tiny and frail. Her right wrist was definitely damaged, and she was covered in mud. She was quietly whimpering under her breath. I would need to reassure her somehow. I quickly walked back to my bedroom, tossing on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, grabbing my creds, as well as a t-shirt for the girl to at least cover her a little bit. I walked back out and found her still curled up in the chair, cradling her hand and whimpering quietly.

"Hey," I started, trying to get her attention, "My name's Michael. What's yours?"

Silence.

"It's OK. I'm with the FBI. I'm not a stranger. You can talk to me." Hopefully the badge in my hand could help her open up to me.

"Ma...My name is...Sarah. Sarah Williams"

Good, now we're getting somewhere.

"OK, Sarah. I'm going to take a look at that hand and see what I can do for it."

I gingerly took her right hand and felt it. Yep. Dislocated, but not broken. A little bit of pressure in the right place and everything was back where it belonged. Poor Sarah hadn't even made a sound.

"Sarah, why were you trying to get into this cabin? Why were you in the woods?"

Her reply, halting as it was served only to trigger my churning gut once again.

"I...I was...I was lost. My family was out camping in the woods. I wandered away to go to the bathroom and couldn't find my way back. This was the first other sign of shelter that I could find. I just wanted to get out of the rain."

I may have been born at night, but it surely wasn't last night. This girl, Sarah, was lying to my face, but I couldn't tell why. Nor what she was hiding.

"Sarah, the shower is just down the hall. Go get washed up. I'm going to call the sheriff and we'll take a drive into town to see what we can do. And here, some clothes," I finished, tossing the small bundle of clothing underhand to her, which she caught without difficulty.

Fifteen minutes later she emerged, no longer covered in mud and grime, but appearing like any other tween girl, albeit one in an oversized pair of men's running shorts and a T-shirt from SigArms. I had already tried to get hold of Sheriff Sullivan, but her cell was going straight to voicemail and there was no one at the sheriff's office at this time of night. I guess that's the danger of small town policing.

"Okay, Sarah. I wasn't able to get hold of the sheriff, but we're going to head to the sheriff's office. My truck's outside, follow me."

She cheerily ran with me toward the truck, likely trying to stay as dry as possible in this monsoon that was just now dying out. My gut said that she was still concealing something...but what, I couldn't grasp. She hopped into the passenger seat, effortlessly tossing various binders into the rear seating area without a second thought. Smiling to myself at the resilience of this kid, who just twenty minutes before had been scared and cowering on my deck, now sitting in the passenger seat of my Suburban and head-banging to the Metallica pumping out of my speakers.

What a kid. Someone raised her well, but in this day and age, what kid is this resilient?

"So, Sarah. What were you and your family doing out here?"

"Camping"

"Sounds fun. You all do anything special, like a fire or scary stories?"

"No. Daddy and Mommy hunted while I just played. That's what always happens."

"So they left you alone?"

"No, my younger brothers were with me. We always stay together and near the de...site. I mean site. Auntie usually stays with us, but she had to go look for someone."

"Hmm. Sounds fun." That's intriguing. I had almost gotten something out of her, but wasn't sure what.

"Yeah. It is."

And that was it. She tuned me out to the screaming lyrics of Judas Priest as I continued to try and pry information out of her. She wasn't going to say anything, so, what's the point. We continued the ride in silence, nothing but the rapidly dying patter of rain falling on the truck and not so dulcet tones of the radio to accompany us as the lightening sky to the east started to show itself.

It would typically have been a fifteen minute drive into the sheriff department office, but for one thing. The Merrimack River flowed between the town and the cabin. This little river was not so little anymore. The downpour had engorged the typically mild stream and it had overtaken its banks and covered the road. I wasn't getting to the road this way for a while.

As I sat staring at the raging river for a second I heard my cell phone go off. Looking at the screen I saw that it was Am...Sheriff Sullivan. I picked it up, hoping that she knew some other way into town.

"Well," I answered, "Apparently we have found our phone. I've got a couple little problems."

"Well, good morning to you too, Mike" was her sarcastic reply."I'm sorry; it died on me last night. I just recharged it. What're the issues?"

"Well, first Flood road is again living up to its name. I'm gonna be stuck up here for a couple hours if you don't know another way down."

"Well, that's no surprise. DPW's probably already dropping cones, so you're stuck. The other road's no good unless there's ice on the lake. Your lab boys faxed some papers up. I'll shoot em over to your e-mail so you can go thru them. What're the other problems?"

"Well, I got a visitor last night."

"Really, who?" Her response wasn't exactly surprise but she sounded genuinely curious.

"She says her name's Sarah Williams. She's about 12 and says that she got separated from her family on a hunting trip. I've got her at my cabin and will bring her by the station tomorrow. The road'll take its time to clear. Just as a heads-up, I found her naked and covered in scratches. It seems to be odd..."

"But I told you the truth," cried a small voice from my side.

"And that would be her. Just keep your ears open if her parents show up looking for her. You have my number. I'll call later."

"I know her parents. I'll get hold of them and give them the heads up. Don't you worry. Your bookworm's data's on the way. Enjoy the mining."

"Yeah. Fun, fun, fun."

Hanging up, I put the phone back in its holster and reversed and threw the Suburban into a tight J-turn at almost 40 MPH, partly for my own enjoyment, partly to see the girl's reaction.

The giggling was a surprise.

"Do it again. That was fun."

Geez. This girl was an adrenaline junkie.

"Not now. We're going to go back to the cabin until the road clears. We'll see if we can get you home tomorrow morning."

"Okay."She returned to her headbanging. "I like this song."

"Really, then let's turn it up."

The opening chords of Metallica's S&M recording of "Of Wolf and Man" filled the truck as my foot pressed down on the gas and we both bobbed our heads in time to the music.

Roaring back into the cabin's dirt road, with the truck throwing up a rooster tail of dirt behind it, I saw something I didn't expect, quickly braking the truck.

There were three men standing outside the cabin. Men I had never seen before and who seemed out of place. The black jackets were not that odd, many people up here had these shell jackets. They worked well. Hell, mine looked exactly the same other than the FBI logos and initials across it. The woodland BDU pants, on the other hand were odd. Most hunters used the off the shelf hunting designs on standard pants, or they used the ACU patterns for some strange reason. No one used woodland anymore.

Except...no. No way in hell are they that stupid.

A short, sharp inhalation cut short my thoughts. Looking over at Sarah I saw her almost trying to hide under the dashboard. She was genuinely afraid of them.

"Friends of yours?" My question was intended to be rhetorical, but her answer threw me for a loop.

"No...Yes...I mean no. I've never seen those mon...men."

OK. She's still hiding something from me.

"Stay here, I'll see what's going on."

Pulling into the parking spot of the cabin, I quickly stop the truck and alight, badge and sidearm both concealed by my jacket. Something wasn't right, and I didn't want to advertise just yet.

"Mornin' Whatchya lookin' for?" I was purposely baiting them, trying to see what they wanted before I told them who I was.

The three of them turned toward me. Two of them were maybe twenty, the third in his early fifties...father maybe. All three were dressed identically with black "jungle boots", woodland BDU pants and black Tees and jackets. The two younger ones both had short-cropped blondish hair covered with soft black ball caps without any markings. One was maybe six foot, the other a little shorter. The sunglasses covering their eyes were odd, as the sun was still rising and it wasn't really bright out yet. The older man had is white head of hair uncovered and is black, beady eyes just seemed to follow me. His look gave me chills.

"We're looking for a...friend... of ours. She ran away last night and her parents asked us to help find her. She looks just like that girl in your truck." They way that he said this, the sheer oiliness and disgust in his voice, raised the hackles on the back of my neck and sent my guts churning.

"That girl said she didn't know you. If you know her parents, go bring them here."

"We can't. They went looking in the opposite direction. We can bring her back to her campsite and meet them for lunch." The two younger men smiled, or perhaps leered is more appropriate, at each other as he said this.

Something in my head was screaming at me that this was completely wrong.

"If you cannot produce her parents, she stays with me." At this, I surreptitiously placed my hand on the butt of my sidearm. These guys really wanted this girl for some reason, but I couldn't tell why. I could tell, however, that everything was going to get ugly real soon.

I saw the flash of silver as the old man started to draw a pistol from his jacket pocket. My .45 was in my hands, leveled and all three dots of my tritium sights aimed squarely at his chest before he even managed to get the weapon out.

"Federal Agent," I called, revealing the badge at my hip, although the iron in my hand currently had more authority than the tin on my hip at the moment. "Drop that weapon now!"

The soft plop of steel hitting earth echoed around me as all three dropped their weapons to the ground. Three identical silver pistols.

"Hey, take it easy. I was just showing you that we were prepared to protect her if that was what you are afraid of. We're licensed."

"This girl is in my custody. If her parents want to pick her up, they need to come find me with the sheriff. Now get out of here. And never. Never be that stupid with a pistol again."

The three picked up and pocketed their pistols and turned toward the woods. They were definitely lying, but I couldn't prove it. They were licensed so I couldn't tag them with unlawful concealment, and that would be an issue for the sheriff anyway. With the way the law was, I couldn't do anything unless they were found guilty of a violent crime. Damn catch-22.

"We'll be back."

Yeah, I bet. I holstered my sidearm and walked back toward the truck. Opening the passenger side door, I found Sarah huddled under the dashboard.

"We'll talk inside. Now Git!" I punctuated that command with a jerk of my extended thumb toward the cabin door. I was pissed. She knew something she wasn't telling me and it involved those yahoos. They matched the reports of the 'squad' that I wanted, but I had no proof...but they wanted the girl...why.

As Sarah ran inside, rebuked by my rough tone outside, I grabbed my bail-out from the truck, along with my rifles. The M4, with its red dot sight and fore end grip was a great tool for close ranges, but was no match for a full sized bear which were known to wander the woods. Plus, at any type of distance, the rifle was accurate enough, but not great. In these woods, I wanted a little more range, and a 30-06 was a much nicer round for that.

My Garand had been in the family since my grandfather had carried it across Iwo and it had saved his life a time or two. Hell, the stock had the scars from a couple of banzai attacks that had become hand to hand combat. A small 4x scope allowed some magnification, but this was the rifle I had learned to shoot with. If I could see it, I could hit it. Guaranteed.

My bailout bag carried my Kevlar, raid jacket and cap, spare ammo for the M4 and Garand as well as a couple Springfield mags, and enough food for a week. I kept it for emergency callouts, and I guess this definitely qualified. I was going to request help and hunker down at this point.

Once inside, I sat Sarah down and pulled up a chair opposite her.

"Okay, Sarah. Cut the bull. We both know you are lying that you never saw those men before. I'll bet they were lying about knowing your parents. What haven't you been telling me?"

Nothing. She sat stoically in front of me, as if she was mute.

"Damn it, Sarah. Those guys wanted to intimidate me into giving you up. Why?"

Again silence. She wasn't even able to look up and look me in the eyes and it almost sounded as if she were sobbing.

"Sarah, this isn't going to work. We need to get everything on the table. I'm not the bad guy. I just want to help you."

"I overheard them when I was lost last night. They were talking about a 'final score'. I think they heard me and started chasing me. That's why I tried to get into the cabin, not because I was lost." With this, she looked up at me, brown eyes wet with tears as her cherubic face was wracked with sadness. "I'm sorry I lied, but I didn't think anyone would believe me."

"I believe you. Did they say anything else?"

"Noth...nothing I heard." She was still sobbing.

"Okay, let me make a few calls. Go to the bedroom and stay there." The bedroom had metal bars across the windows, so no one could get in without a hacksaw. It was designed as a precaution against tree branches in a windstorm out here. Now it was another barrier to entry into the room.

Sheriff Sullivan couldn't identify the trio that I had met based on my description, but she did know that for the next few days, the park would be pretty isolated. She also set up roadblocks on every exit, citing a random check for some obscure forestry regulation. Sometimes having thousands of regulations is a positive. Now, for the big guns.

Dialing the number, I felt my gut tightening. I hated these calls because I knew that I'd need to vigorously defend myself, but what other option was there. He picked up on the first ring.

"SSA Stark."

"SSA Stark, sir. I think we have the location of these "squad" bandits. I've got a witness who overheard a group of men talking about a settling a final score. These same men came after her while she was in my custody before she told me about the run-in. They also tried to draw on me, before I identified myself."

"And how did they get away from you?"

"My witness didn't tell me about her encounter until after the three had run off. I've already e-mailed descriptions to you. Also, the lab found trails leading back to this area for both devices. Some of the parts were manufactured right here in New London. I've already got the park locked down. If the team could be here tomorrow morning we can start a search."

"Damn. I got those reports, but you're too late. TAC's out at the civic center. Some nutjob's playing sniper. This is the third one this week. It's like they're trying to tie us down. I'll see if I can get someone else out there, but no guarantees. The whole Northeast has gone a little nuts."

"Yes Sir. I'll call if anything changes. Please do the same on your end."

"I will. Stay safe, Mike."

"Yes sir."

"Fuck!" I exclaimed after hanging up. "So basically it's me and the sheriff's department. That's nowhere near enough."

The rest of the day was spent poring over various maps, trying to find any sign of habitation in the park which could support these bandits, and unending planning on my part to determine the tactical plans. This operation was going to be a bitch.

I gave up at about two AM. I needed some sleep, and there was nothing else I could do. Sarah had fallen asleep curled up on the bed, almost like a small dog. I pulled the covers over her body as best I could and tucked her in. I couldn't help but feel sorry for her, being dragged into this at such a young age.

I retired toward the couch and just lay down, still dressed in cargos and my tee shirt. I was too tired to care. I saw the light of the moon filtering in through the open curtains and fell asleep basking in luna's silver light.

Somewhere else...

Unbeknownst to me, on the other side of that earlier phone conversation, a new number had being dialed, a number that had been reserved only for the most dire sets of circumstances.

"We have an extermination. We need everyone prepped for a domestic. Tonight."

Thompson State Forest

New London, NH

I woke to the sharp crash of breaking glass. Already on my feet with my sidearm in hand, I looked around searching for the source of the noise.

I found it.

"Oh Shit."

The small can burst into a brilliant white burst of light as a shock wave slammed into my body. I couldn't see, and I couldn't hear.

The only thing I could feel was the thump of a strong, powerful object striking my head as I fell deep into the blissful embrace of unconsciousness, the blackness embracing me like a cloak.

When I regained consciousness, well, I wish I hadn't. I regained consciousness about a foot off of the ground, but, honestly, that wasn't the most disturbing factor. No, the most disturbing part was why I was a foot off the ground.

As I groggily opened my eyes and blinked away the stars still shimmering in their vision, I saw something that shouldn't exist. Two amber eyes peering out of the darkness and a plethora of sharp teeth just below them. Warm breath washed over me as it snarled and growled at me, seemingly ready to rend me right there.

"Where is she? Where is the girl?"

Please Read and review. I'm going to try to get another installment out by the weekend but no guarantees.

Edited for clarity - 9/12/11,11/30/11 - AAcid