Colin MacGregor

"You ready?" Michelle murmured, then felt herself nod. Steeling herself with a deep breath, the young Asian woman turned the cold, brass handle of the old oaken door and it swung open with the obligatory creak of unoiled hinges.

Michelle shone her Mag light around the interior of the house, and stifled a sneeze as the dust hanging in the air drifted out towards her. As her eye fell upon the rooms, deserted save for a few pieces of sheet covered furniture, she thought back to the mission briefing.

Enigma-green class threat tag, a simple recon. Parameters sounded like a simple haunting, and the history of the house - the sudden heart attack for the Parson family's butler seemed to create a likely spook candidate - all pointed to a simple mission. A cake walk.

Unfortunately, the simple haunting had taken a dangerous turn two months ago when James, the youngest son of the family at age 8, had fallen down the staircase and broken his wrist. At the hospital he had told the doctors that the stairs had twisted underneath him and thrown him down. Marsha and James senior had decided it best to take the family to stay at the estate in Virginia for awhile, in the hope that their son would calm down, but then the caretaker for the Atlanta mansion had become trapped in the basement for three days.

When the property management company sent someone by to look for him, they found him insensate and nearly dead from thirst. At the time of briefing, the caretaker had not regained consciousness, and had been in the mental ward of Piedmont hospital for three weeks.

Marsha Parson had been the one to contract Orpheus to investigate. Wanting only to return home, she had paid the exorbitant commission, and so now here Michelle and Colin were, albeit observed by Agent Dennison, on their first investigation.

Michelle's thoughts were snapped back to reality as a footstep echoed through the passageway at the back of the room.

She switched off the Mag light and let her eyes adjust to the dim, dusty interior. There was enough evening light filtering through the linen curtains to let her move on quickly, and she slowly peeked around the corner of the doorframe.

There was a man in a navy blue suit standing next to the butcher block island, taking photographs of an overturned tin of flour.

"Excuse me?" Michelle's voice came out rather timidly, but the young man in the cheap suit spun around startled and let out a yelp.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" All traces of the man's apprehension disappeared as he produced a pistol from underneath his jacket. Although still pointed towards the floor, he held it with the confidence of a trained professional.

<Oh, bugger. Say the word, lass...> Michelle could almost feel Colin tensing within her, ready to spring out and strike.

"Whoa! Relax!" Michelle blanched and held her hands out, showing the man that she held nothing more dangerous than a flashlight. "I just heard something..."

"What you heard was an FBI agent, Agent Leo Williams. Now I'll ask again, who are you?" The agent's expression hardened.

"Oh, and I'm Michelle Chan, Orpheus Group. If you'll let me grab my ID, I can show you my Investigator's license."

"Orpheus? Damn." Agent Williams tightened his grip on his Glock, but nodded. "Slowly."

Michelle slowly pulled the brown leather folio out of her jacket pocket and opened it to show her Orpheus ID and P.I. license.

Williams scowled, but holstered his gun. "What are you doing here? This is an official investigation site."

"We were contracted to investigate the premises. I'm afraid I can't say more than that. Why is the FBI involved?" Michelle frowned thoughtfully. "If it's an official investigation, why isn't the site sealed off?"

"We had received the reports of a number of violent attacks, and Mr. Parsons had requested an investigation."

<Ah, tha' explains i', lass. The wife hired us, the husband brough' in the mundanes.>

Michelle nodded as Williams pulled a Nextel phone from his belt and triggered it. "Sir, we have a complication."

<I dinnae know, lass, I had nay heard tha' the Feds were interested, but I'm nay surprised. Tha' voice sounds familiar, though. I jus' cannae place i'.>

"Understood." That same voice again. "Proceed, and do not hinder her. We at the FBI are, of course, always happy to co-operate with the private sector. Carver out."

<Carver! Goddamned fool!> Michelle had a vision of Colin frothing at the mouth as he spit out the name.

<Who is this Carver?> She smiled thinly at Williams. "That is good to hear. We'll do everything we can to co-operate as well, of course. Have you found anything unexpected?"

The FBI agent shook his head, but seemed to relax some. "Not really, but I'd just arrived, and was starting in here. There's definitely been some disturbance here; you can see everything turned over on the counters."

Michelle sighed, but turned her attention on the countertop. "I understand the family left in a hurry, they could have just left the place a mess."

"No, look here. The flour is on top of the dust." The agent moved closer and pointed at the edge of the spill, and then at the interior of the canister. "I'd buy that if the inside of the can was dusty as well, but aside from the flour itself, there's none. No cobwebs either. No, this happened recently, which means that someone else has been..."

Michelle looked over at Williams as he trailed off. "Something catch your attention?"

"Williams! Listen to me! Fight it, you can regain control!" Michelle backed away slightly, staring at the older man. He seemed no different in appearance, only in attitude.

<I dinnae think so, lass, whoe'er i' is has go' him solid. Keep an eye ou', I'm gwan tae try and force i' ou' o' him.>

Michelle stared in amazement as gauzy spiderweb like tendrils detached from around her neck and shoulders and quickly spread to Williams'. She caught a brief flash of Colin's face before the shroud vanished again. The FBI agent suddenly began twitching as though he were being coursed through with a shock, and with an unintelligble cry, he re-drew the Glock pistol he'd holstered only a few minutes before. Michelle dove behind the central island as a shot cracked into the tile floor near where she'd stood, sending terracotta chips flying.

She quickly drew her own pistol, a Beretta 9mm loaded with gauze shredding rounds, and flicked off the safety. She could still see the man, seemingly locked in a struggle for control of himself, waving the gun wildly and screaming. With a flash of white light and a sudden swirl of cold air, two misty forms suddenly toppled to the floor of the kitchen, locked in a grapple. Williams instantly stopped flailing and looked around confused, first at the gun in his hand, and then at the interlocked, cobweb like forms weaving on the floor.

"Just stand back and let me get a clear shot." Michelle held her pistol steadily, trying to make out which of the struggling skinriders was her friend and which her enemy.

"Stand back? Listen lady, I don't know who or what the hell you think you are, but if you don't drop that gun now, I'll drop you!"

With a harsh tearing sound, the two ghostly forms seperated, Colin tumbling towards the far end of the kitchen and coming to rest under the table while the other rolled backwards into the counters.

"Now lass!" Colin's voice sounded hollow and weary, and the FBI agent turned, gaping, to find the source of the call.

Michelle fired three shots, then, into the crumpled form on the floor, and watched with relief as its gauze shredded away, continuing to disperse after the last bullet entered.

"What? How?" Williams gaze flickered back and forth from Colin's now hovering, weblike form, and the slowly dissipating mass of white lying motionless on the floor. As the three watched, it disappeared entirely.

"Tha's nay all, lass, watch yuirself." Colin was staring at something behind the two breathing agents, and they both turned to look.

"Damn." Michelle saw the pale figure standing next to the counter, looking with satisfaction at the place where the invader had lain. With a single finger, he reached for the flour on the counter.

"What?" Williams was nearing panic now, grasping the Glock tightly in his hands. "There's nothing there!"

"There is." Michelle said quietly, and watched with fascinated interest as the other spirit, that of a man in his late 50s wearing a formal black suit, began to write in the spilled powder.

With that, the ghost's aura grew golden for a moment before he faded into nothing.

"Aye, lass, but I think I'll leave the explainin' for ye." With a wink, Colin faded from the physical, just as Williams turned around.

"The other one's gone, too? What the Hell is going on?" He turned a fevered look on the young woman. "I swear to God, if you don't explain, I'll have you brought up on charges!"

Michelle smiled politely. "Of what? Shooting a ghost? No, Agent Williams, I think you'll be best off if you simply complete your look around, go back and report that everything's normal, and it should be safe for the family to return. That's what we'll be informing Mrs. Parsons of, at any rate. For your own sake, you should probably try and forget what you've seen. Good afternoon."

Williams stared at her and opened and closed his mouth a few times. "Forget? You think I should just forget..."

Suddenly, Williams' Nextel beeped. "Agent Williams, we have heard gunshots and are moving in backup to assist. Are you allright?" It was Carver again.

He paled. "I'm fine, sir...I think, ah, there was a squatter who set up residence. He came at me running, so I fired a few warning shots to frighten him off. I don't think he'll be back to bother the Parsons."

Flipping off the Nextel, Williams looked over at her uncomfortably. "Um, thanks. I think. You're really not going to tell me any more than that?"

She shot a grin over her shoulder as she walked out. "Any more than what? This never happened."

"Well, what?" Michelle stopped and turned around to look at the FBI Agent across the living room, who was looking a little embarassed, while Colin stood by the front door, impatiently tapping his foot.

"Look, can I just get your number? Maybe we can talk later." Williams avoided her gaze for a moment, then sheepishly looked up at her.

A small blush of her own touched her cheeks, and she gave him a smile. "Well, I guess." She fished out a business card and stepped back across the area rug on the floor to hand it to him.

Colin groaned. "Lass, come on, there'll be more o' 'em here soon, and likely nay as friendly. I've nay desire tae see that Carver jackass again either."

Williams looked up from the card and smiled at her. "Of course, Ms. Chan. I'll give you a call later."

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Last Updated: January 2, 2004 by Blake Sorensen

February 12, 2003