Ghostfinders 01 - Ghost of a Chance

for the exit,” said Erik. “Chasing that ghost woman.”
    Natasha frowned and tapped a single pink-leather-gloved fingertip against her lower lip. “Why would he abandon his fellow team members to go haring off after a ghost? I mean, what’s so special about her?”
    “Nothing I could see,” said Erik. “Maybe he fancies her.”
    “Oh please!” said Natasha, curling her upper lip magnificently. “One of us and one of them? I don’t think so. Necrophilia is so . . . tacky. And JC is, after all, a professional.”
    “You’re jealous!” said Erik delightedly. “You are!”
    “You want a slap?”
    Erik took a careful step backwards. Natasha turned her back on him cuttingly and considered the motionless Happy and the still-twitching Melody.
    “On the whole, I don’t think Vivienne MacAbre will be at all pleased with us if we give up now. We were sent down here to kill JC. Having to admit that we let him get away while we concentrated on these two lesser fish . . . would not go down well. So, we use them as bait, to draw him back.”
    “I could still make use of them,” said Erik, hopefully. “I have a full surgical kit in my back-pack. I could do all kinds of interesting things with them. Really. You’d be surprised.”
    “Quite possibly,” said Natasha. “But we don’t have the time. There’s something really big, and really powerful, down here in the dark with us, something Vivienne never even mentioned. And I want it.”
    “I don’t know,” said Erik. “That wasn’t the mission. You heard the cat head. Something very old. Something from the afterworlds. ”
    “I know,” said Natasha. “I can feel it, like a constant pressure on my mental shields, trying to force its way in . . . It’s big, Erik, you have no idea how big. This could be the biggest catch of our career.”
    “Can you pinpoint its location?” said Erik, cautiously.
    “Not without giving the problem my full concentration,” said Natasha, glancing at Happy. “He’s still fighting me, you know. Like a fox with his paw caught in a trap. The chase is over, but he still won’t admit it.”
    “We need more information on this . . . prize,” said Erik.
    “Big, powerful, and nasty,” said Natasha. “And not in any way human. What more do you need to know?”
    “Are you sure you aren’t just seeing your own reflection?” said Erik from a safe distance.
    Natasha was in such a good mood she smiled at him sweetly. “I shall make you suffer for that, little man, at some future time. For now, make yourself useful and consult your little cat computer. From the mental traces I’m picking up . . . I’d venture that what we have down here is almost certainly other-dimensional in origin.”
    “Oh crap,” said Erik.
    “Precisely,” said Natasha. “We’re going to need a really sharp hook and a really strong line to haul this one in.”
    “We need reinforcements!” said Erik. “In fact, we need to get the hell out of here, right now, at speed, and put as much distance as possible between us and London, and let some other poor fool deal with it.”
    “Where’s your spine?” said Natasha. “This is our big chance to prove our worth to the high-and-mighty Vivienne MacAbre. If we deliver not only the heads of JC, Melody, and Happy, but also the tamed and caged remains of an other-dimensional Intruder, on a plate . . . she’ll make us an A team, with all their wonderful pay and privileges, on the spot.”
    “All right, I’m tempted,” said Erik. “But I’m not committing myself to anything until I’ve got some hard data to look at.”
    “Then unpack your cat thing and get this show on the road,” said Natasha.

    Erik took his time unpacking his cat-head computer and making sure it was all functioning as it should be. Shimmering mechanisms of pure energy whirled and revolved, enforcing their strange designs upon the world; and then the cat head opened its eyes and spat fiercely. Erik tweaked one of its whiskers playfully and snatched his hand back before the teeth could reach him. He knelt before the computer, so he could look right into the cat’s slit-pupilled eyes.
    “There’s something down here with us,” he said bluntly. “What is it? What is it doing down here?”
    “It’s watching you,” said the cat head in its harsh, unnatural voice. “It knows all about you. It wants you.”
    “Who doesn’t?” said Erik. “But what is it, precisely? Demon, demiurge, one of the Great Beasts,