Manning closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He held out his hand without looking at Moore, still breathing slow and deep. "Here. Let me." He felt the communications officer place the headset in his hand, sensed him rise and walk away, and Manning silently cursed himself for losing his cool. In this job, cool was essential. "Thank you," he said. He looked at Moore; the poor kid was pale as chalk, his shirt patched with sweat. "Do me a favor, Chris, and bring me some coffee."
"Decaf?"
"Full-fat. Strong as you can get. I want a bucket of coffee I can float a horseshoe in." Manning was pleased to see Moore break a smile as he left the room.
"Amelia."
"Tom ... " She sounded scared; bad sign number one. And number two: there was screaming in the background.
"Amelia, what's going on there? Where's Hellboy?"
"He's fallen into the bay," the woman said, her voice crackling with emotion and static. "The dragon just picked him up and dropped him in the bay ... horrible, it must have been a thousand feet high ... and then it flew away."
"What's the screaming?"
"Now that it's gone, people are starting to believe it was really here."
Manning rubbed his eyes, frowned. "Wait a minute. You called this in more than twenty-four hours ago. You're saying that it waited till Hellboy got there, kicked his ass, then flew off into the sunset?"
"Weil ... "
"Amelia, get Hellboy to call me as soon as you can."
Silence. Even the screaming had calmed down.
Manning smiled. "He'll be fine, Amelia. He's ... hard. But really, do your best to find him and get him to call in. Something's going on."
He clicked off the phone, re-dialed, and was grateful to hear Liz Sherman on the other end.
"Tom?"
"Liz, how did it go?"
"Bad."
One word, but it spoke volumes. Tom almost wished he could sign off, but there was so much more going on today. Abby Paris still hadn't returned from Baltimore, and Moore had not been able to track her satellite phone signal. Abe Sapien had called in to report his encounter with the giant alligator. And other BPRD agents were investigating other sightings, every report only confusing the picture and making it more terrifying. Kate Corrigan was due in soon, and for that Manning gave endless thanks, but already he could discern a purpose forming in these sightings. What he and the rest of the Bureau had to do now was find out just what that purpose was.
"Are you all right?"
"I am." Liz emphasised the 'I', and Manning decided not to ask.
"Liz, do you want to come in?"
"Should I?"
"Not unless you really have to. Because I have to tell you, there's seven shades of shit hitting the fan at the moment, and if you can go to Madrid, I'd be most grateful. "
"What's in Madrid?"
"A griffin. It started carrying off horses, but now it's eating people, Liz. There's utter panic there, and the Spanish government is on the verge of calling in NATO."
"Oh, that'll help," Liz drawled, and Manning smiled. He loved her sardonic humor, even though he knew it masked such depths.
"So will you go?"
"Where's HB?"
"Just got his ass kicked by a dragon in Rio."
"Oh. Sure, I'll go."
"I'll e-mail you the contact details in Madrid. Thanks, Liz."
"Don't mention it."
Manning signed off, and Moore came in with a huge mug of steaming coffee and placed it on the desk. It looked as though it could be used to lay felt roofs, and Manning sipped and sighed luxuriantly. "Chris, do you have anything urgent to do at home in the next few days?" he asked.
Moore smiled and shrugged. "This is my home, sir. I'm a geek for weird stuff."
"Ha!" Manning smiled, though he could not shake the feeling of unease that had settled over him. Perhaps it was having most of the field team gone from Bureau HQ. "Well, I think your addiction is set to be well fed over the next few days."
"Sir?"
Manning shook his head, sipped more coffee. "Chris, just see if you can raise Abe. I need him back over here. We should follow up on that Ogopodo report from Canada." While Moore tried to contact Abe Sapien, Manning took the opportunity to finish his coffee. Looking at the map on the wall — red pins signifying recent sightings of things weird, wonderful, and deadly — he decided he was going to need some more.
* * *
Rio de Janeiro, Brazil — 1997