"A formidable young man," Director-General Harrison Blake said after hearing Raymond's assessment of Ash Williams. Before the meeting could continue, someone knocked on the secure conference-room door, and one of Blake's assistants entered after receiving permission. The aide carried Raymond's phone, leaned close, and quietly explained, "Special Agent Williams says he has an urgent update."
Every director around the conference table immediately looked toward Raymond. He accepted the phone with considerably less enthusiasm than anyone else might have expected, because Ash's definition of an emergency had already proved dangerously flexible. Raymond glanced toward Blake and said, "Director-General, Special Agent Williams is calling from Michigan. He says it's urgent."
Blake's interest immediately sharpened. "Take it here. If your field agent has something important enough to interrupt a national directors' meeting, the rest of us may as well hear it." Raymond wanted to object, but doing so would only make everyone more curious, so he reluctantly answered the call on speaker. He could only hope Ash had enough situational awareness not to say anything ridiculous.
"Boss, you busy?" Ash's voice came through immediately. "If you've got a minute, I need approval to reimburse some damage to a bookstore."
The room became completely silent.
Raymond closed his eyes for half a second. "A damaged bookstore does not sound like an emergency, Ash. What did you do?"
"Technically, the demon did it." Ash sounded perfectly reasonable from his side of the call. "I came to Michigan while dealing with the active Book of the Dead, found an occult bookstore owner who could partially translate it, and we deliberately summoned several demons to question them. One of the later summons was a Flame Demon, and it almost turned the place into kindling, but we kept the damage to some books, shelves, glassware, and minor heat damage."
Several directors around the table slowly exchanged looks. Raymond rubbed his forehead and asked, "You deliberately summoned demons inside a civilian bookstore?" Ash immediately replied, "Controlled environment, containment circle, armed personnel, no civilian casualties, and every summoned target was neutralized. Also, reimbursement isn't actually why I called."
Raymond somehow found that statement even less reassuring. "Then what is?"
"The bookstore owner." Ash's tone became noticeably more serious. "His name is Lionel Hawkins, owner of Books from Beyond. The guy spent around thirty years teaching himself occultism, demonology, folklore, ancient religious texts, and dead languages without any formal supernatural organization behind him, and he can actually translate portions of the Book of the Dead."
That caught everyone's attention.
Ash continued, "We can't waste somebody like that. He's exactly the kind of specialist the Bureau needs, so send someone to recruit him for New York before those vultures at the Michigan Branch figure out what they've got sitting in their backyard." He then gave Raymond Lionel's name and the bookstore location before adding urgently, "Seriously, Boss, move fast. Finders keepers."
Every person at the table slowly turned toward the Lansing Branch director.
Diana Chen, a woman in her fifties with short silver-gray hair and an otherwise perfectly composed expression, sat several seats away from Raymond. She inhaled slowly, then looked toward him with an elegant smile that somehow felt considerably more dangerous than open anger. Raymond suddenly wished Ash had called five minutes later.
On the phone, Ash was still talking. "Lionel already agreed when I explained what the AIIB does, so this should be easy. All you need to do is get paperwork and people there before Michigan decides—"
Raymond finally interrupted. "Ash."
"Yeah?"
"You're on speaker."
A brief silence followed.
Raymond continued, "I'm currently sitting in the national directors' meeting."
Another silence.
Then Ash's voice suddenly became much louder. "Wow, would you look at that, my phone battery's dying. Terrible timing. Can't hear you. Breaking up."
The call disconnected.
Raymond stared at the phone.
Diana Chen stood up.
"I'll be right back."
She walked calmly out of the conference room.
Raymond immediately grabbed his phone again and called the New York Branch, ordering the nearest available recruitment and logistics personnel to contact Lionel Hawkins before Lansing could move. Around the table, several directors were openly struggling not to laugh while others looked far too entertained by the sudden inter-branch competition.
Director-General Blake looked toward the open doorway Diana had disappeared through, then toward Raymond.
"A formidable young man."
It was the exact same evaluation he had given earlier.
This time, however, the meaning was entirely different.
Back in Michigan, Ash hung up his phone and sighed while sitting in the passenger seat of a rented sedan. "Raymond really set me up there. Hopefully the Michigan Branch director has a sense of humor." Older Ash, who was driving, stared ahead with the expression of a man who had already accepted the inevitability of disaster. "Junior, I've known you for less than two days, and I'm not even slightly surprised you managed to start a turf war inside a federal agency."
"You make it sound worse than it is."
"You called them vultures while their director was listening."
Ash looked out the window. "Minor diplomatic issue."
Pablo, Kelly, and Amanda had already left on their separate trip to find Pablo's uncle, a brujo and shamanic healer who might know another way to deal with the Book of the Dead. Lionel remained at Books from Beyond gathering his research and personal belongings after enthusiastically accepting Ash's invitation to work with the AIIB, although whether he would officially belong to New York or Michigan was now apparently becoming a federal jurisdictional crisis. Ash and older Ashley J. Williams, meanwhile, were heading toward the original cabin with the remaining active Book of the Dead secured inside the car.
The cabin was still several hours from Lionel's store, deep enough into rural Michigan that the trip consumed most of the day. By the time darkness settled over the road, both men were hungry, so Ash pulled into the parking lot of a roadside restaurant called West Moose. After shutting off the engine, he looked toward older Ash and asked, "How much farther?"
Older Ash studied the road ahead for a moment. "Maybe thirty minutes if we keep moving. We eat now, then we should reach the cabin tonight." Ash nodded in agreement. "Good. The sooner we deal with the book, the sooner I can stop wondering what else you're going to accidentally unleash."
Older Ash opened the door. "Relax. Dinner's on me. Order whatever you want."
Young Ash watched him walk toward the restaurant.
Then he looked at the rented sedan.
The sedan Ash had paid for.
He quietly took a small recorder from his pocket, switched it on, and followed older Ash inside. Before they reached the tables, he casually asked, "What did you just say?"
Older Ash waved without thinking. "I said dinner's on me. Order whatever you want."
Ash smiled pleasantly and switched off the recorder. "Fantastic."
They took a booth and ordered enough food to cover most of the table. While they waited, Ash finally asked something that had been bothering him since meeting the group. "I understand why you're involved, but why exactly are Pablo and Kelly still following you around through all this?"
Older Ash slapped his forehead. "Right. Never told you that part."
He leaned back and began explaining. "Pablo and Kelly worked with me at ValueStop. After I screwed up and reopened the Book of the Dead, the Deadite mess started spreading again, and Pablo ended up saving my ass during one of the first attacks at work."
Ash nodded. "And Kelly?"
"Her family got hit next." Older Ash's humor faded slightly. "Kelly's mother, Suzy Maxwell, had been dead for months, then suddenly showed up alive again. Naturally, everybody wanted to believe some miracle had happened, but she was possessed."
Older Ash looked down at the table. "We went to Kelly's house, figured out what was really happening, and the Deadite wearing Suzy's body had to be killed. Kelly's father died during the same mess, so after that, she had every reason in the world to want these things gone." He paused before adding, "Pablo was already involved, his family knows some supernatural stuff, and the kid's too loyal for his own good."
Ash raised an eyebrow. "Also, he likes Kelly."
Older Ash grinned. "That too."
Ash leaned back. "So everyone around you gets dragged into supernatural disasters, loses family members, and ends up helping you fix the consequences."
Older Ash frowned. "You make me sound like some kind of curse."
Ash stared at him.
Older Ash stared back.
The older man's expression gradually changed.
Ash did not need to say anything else.
Linda had died because of what happened at the cabin. Cheryl, older Ash's younger sister, had died there too, and even decades later his father, Brock Williams, had never truly forgiven him for Cheryl's death. The people he cared about seemed to keep becoming casualties of the supernatural nightmare attached to his life, which made the joke considerably less funny once he actually thought about it.
Older Ash stopped talking and focused on the food when it arrived.
For the next several minutes, he ate with unusual intensity.
Once the plates were mostly empty, older Ash leaned back and casually asked, "You bring cash?"
Young Ash slowly raised his eyes.
"Excuse me?"
"Cash. Money. The green stuff."
Ash stared at him. "You said dinner was on you."
Older Ash blinked innocently. "Did I?"
Young Ash reached into his pocket.
He placed the recorder on the table.
Then pressed play.
Older Ash's own voice came through clearly.
"I said dinner's on me. Order whatever you want."
Older Ash stared at the recorder for several seconds, then rested his chin against his hand. "There's no trust left in this world. A man can't even have dinner without being secretly recorded."
Ash slipped the device back into his pocket. "The recording proves I trusted exactly the right amount."
Older Ash sighed and pushed himself out of the booth. "Fine. Go wait in the car. I'll handle the check."
Ash narrowed his eyes. "I'm giving you half an hour."
"Ten minutes."
Older Ash glanced toward the server with the calculating expression of a man who had just developed a deeply irresponsible financial strategy.
Young Ash decided he did not want to know.
He stood and headed for the door.
Whatever older Ash was planning, this dinner was apparently about to become far more expensive than either of them had expected.