Free Full Moonster [BUREAU 13 Book Three] by Nick Pollotta Page B

armaments."
    "Doesn't mean a damn thing,” I noted, checking the load in each of my handguns.
    "Any CB activity?” Raul asked, polishing his wand with a vengeance. Sparks flew from the tip and arced down into the bottom as the staff charged itself for action.
    "Go ahead and try,” Jess offered, with a gesture.
    Rising from the middle couch, George stepped past the wizards and took the swivel chair at the Communications Panel. He flipped some switches and a strident howl whined from the floorboard speakers. Scrunching his face in concentration, George twisted the dial to different positions and pressed some pre-set buttons to the same result.
    "Full spectrum jamming,” he cursed, savagely turning of the transponder. “That's the Scion. Subtle as a brick through a window."
    "And just as smart,” Raul added angrily.
    "Did not know our radios could be jammed,” Katrina said, suspiciously glaring at the device.
    Thumbing back hammers on the Magnums, I answered, “Anybody's radio can be jammed with enough raw power."
    "And if they're knocking us off the air,” George said slowly, rubbing his chin. “There must not be a working TV or radio station in this whole section of the state!"
    "Which means help is on its way,” Katrina said optimistically. “Bureau will detect and send recon unit.” Then her face clouded. “ Nyet . We are the recon unit."
    Rotating around, George held out a splayed hand and Donaher tossed him the banjo-from-Hell. Catching the 30 pounds in one hand, our plump soldier worked the bolt on his huge M60, starting a new belt of ammunition.
    "Gas situation?” he asked, already starting to talk in short battlefield sentences.
    Keeping a grip on the steering wheel, Jess pointed at the dashboard. “Already on emergency tanks."
    Oh swell. Damn this Detroit monster and its low mileage! Didn't Toyota make any armored luxury cars? Might as well ask for a Jaguar with four-wheel drive.
    Crouched over the weapon locker, Father Donaher's black cloth-clad bottom wiggled about as he rummaged in an ammunition drawer. “Hey George! Aren't there any Deer Slugs for my shotgun?"
    "Sure. Over by the Armbrust stealth missile."
    "Ah, there they are. Thanks."
    Double-ought buckshot cartridges from the good father's Remington could cut most monsters in half. However, the effectiveness of a shotgun is decreased geometrically with distance. Which was why he wanted the Deer Slugs. Simply put, they were bullets for a shotgun. Only the mighty Donaher could handle the mind-numbing recoil of the projectiles, but they changed his shotgun from a short-range to a long-range weapon and increased its destructive power astronomically.
    As this was plainly no time for trick cameras, I loaded Jess an Uzi machine pistol from the small arsenal in the glove compartment. Maintaining speed, she accepted the weapon, along with four additional clips of mixed ammo. The open carton of grenades I put on the couch for easy access for both of us.
    "Mindy, what does radar say?” Katrina asked, the big blonde sliding tiers of copper bracelets from her wizard's kit on her slim tan arms.
    Glancing over my shoulder at the dashboard, the short woman consulted the beeping screen. “That there are two of them,” Mindy announced, curling a lip.
    Ah, modern technology. Ain't it grand? That was when I noticed that both wizards were now magically dressed for war in combat sneakers, denim pants, T-shirts and short vests with zillion tiny pockets bulging with occult items. Of course, Raul's T-shirt was adorned with a giant bullseye target surrounded by the international ‘NO’ symbol, and Katrina's was skin tight showing a wealth of cleavage, with a picture of her wearing a T-shirt with a picture of her wearing a T-shirt with a picture of her wearing a T-shirt, ad infinitum, but that was only to be expected. Then I noticed her butterfly tattoo was on her cheek and wearing a flakjacket. Cool. I just had to get me one of those someday.
    In grim satisfaction,