Orville Reitmen scanned the printouts he had garnered from his machinery. He didn't like what they told him. The Persona Tower probably wouldn't be standing in the next month if he couldn't find the source of the pressure building up inside it.

Some of the buildings around it would collapse also. He couldn't figure how many would fall. That depended on the pressure exerted on the Persona. He estimated that at least two of the closer buildings would go down.

He needed to get back inside and see if he could find the focal point. He doubted the guards would allow him to pass unless he had something crazy going on. If he waited that long, it would be too late.

He would need the magnetic gun at least. Dispersing the magnetism would help wreck the gathered energy for the opening.

And he was sure he was dealing with an artificial rip from some other universe. Crunching numbers told him that much.

If he could get some help from his friends, getting past the guards would be easy. Then they could deal with the rip without outside interference.

His phone buzzed from the end of its charger plug. He looked at the number and nodded. One of the people he had called was calling him back. He swiped the screen to answer the call.

“Hello, Ty,” said Reitman. “Thanks for the callback.”

“I can't talk long,” said Tyler Dunn. “I'm in the middle of a case. What's going on?”

“I think the Persona Tower is going to collapse from the readings I have been taking,” said Reitman.

“Is this about that bird shadow?,” asked Dunn.

“What bird shadow?,” asked Reitman.

“I have had a couple of people tell me that a giant bird is casting a shadow over the city from Lower Manhattan,” said Dunn. “They're not usually reliable.”

“They're right in this case,” said Reitman. “The pressure building up down there might lead to a rip.”

“What do you want to do about it?,” asked Dunn.

“I'm trying to get the guys together to get through the guards and do a real survey of the place,” said Reitman. “I can't get by on my own.”

“I have to finish this first,” said Dunn.

“Where are you?,” asked Reitman. “I'll come down and give you a hand.”

Dunn gave him an address in Queens. Reitman wrote it down on his pad, then tore the sheet off and put it in his pocket. He hung up the phone and checked the screens again. Everything looked calm. It reminded him of a tornado he had seen as a boy. Everything had looked normal but the wind picked up and kept picking up until it was a thing chasing him from his yard.

The doctor left his machines keeping watch. He walked down to his van and started the engine. He pulled out of the space and headed towards Queens. He wondered what Dunn was after.

Dunn found things for people. He had some pull somewhere that allowed him access to things men weren't meant to know. It showed in his battered face and mismatched eyes.

Reitman had been chasing a specter scaring people in their dreams. Someone had hired Dunn to solve the same problem. They had helped each other out.

Dunn's talent for finding things might be what was needed to search the Persona.

They needed someone else to get them past the guards so they could look around in peace.

Nothing disrupted a good search like well paid minions.

Reitman figured one of his other friends would call about the job sooner or later. He and Dunn should be able to handle things if they couldn't get anyone else to join in. It would be rough, but they had stopped other monsters without problems.

On the other hand, they had lost a few battles by not having enough help on hand when they needed it. They had aced the rematches, but the earlier losses had left some scars to show for their failures.

The van rolled to a stop in front of a yellow house crammed in the middle of similar houses. Dunn's silver Cadillac sat at the curb.

Reitman eased back to the back of the van and opened an equipment case. He pulled out a harness with a dynamo built into it. He pulled the harness on and buckled it tight. He grabbed the rifle that sat in the case. He plugged it into the dynamo with a cable. He cut the power on.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

A screen lit up on the top of the rifle. It displayed how much charge was in the weapon, if it had a lock on a target, and if it had encountered resistance from the target. The more resistance it encountered, the more you had to fire the weapon to disrupt the energies involved in a specter walking around from beyond the grave.

Anything bigger than a house spirit required a bigger gun being brought to bear. He didn't have any of those in the command post.

He powered up the mobile systems and set them to record. If they didn't stop the thing now, maybe they could figure out what it was and track it moving around its training center.

If necessary, Reitman would bring a bigger gun back to the house and get rid of it for good. Specters could be a pain in the neck, and if someone had called Dunn, then things were escalating out of control.

The doctor got out the back of the van. The rifle gave him a reading for something close to a specter, but it seemed more material than what he had expected.

He went to the door and knocked. Once things were sorted out, he could add the information to his archives.

Dunn opened the door. He looked around for anyone else noticing his friend. He ushered the doctor inside with a wave of his hand.

“You dragged out the big gun already?,” said Dunn. “I'm still trying to figure out what's going on.”

“You have something here,” said Reitman. He pointed at the screen. “This is close to a medium powered entity. It should be enough to start throwing things around if it wants to.”

“It did that to the family that lives here,” said Dunn. “They asked me to get rid of it for them.”

“Good luck on that,” said Reitman. “This thing will never confront anyone directly. It'll just skulk around until something is done.”

“I'll try to lure it out,” said Dunn. “When I do, shoot it. Then I can hand the house back to the people who live here and collect my check.”

“How are you going to do that?,” asked Reitman.

“I'll think of something,” said Dunn. “Just be ready.”

“Go ahead,” said Reitman.

Dunn took a moment to concentrate. He pulled a pen knife from his jeans pocket. He stabbed his index finger. A drop of blood welled up. He shook it into the air. It almost looked like a circle of letters as it crossed the room and landed on the carpet. Blue flames sprung to life at the top of the fibers.

A howl rolled through the room. The circle of fire stood taller as they waited. Reitman placed the rifle to his shoulder so he could fire as soon as the sensors locked on something. Dunn held his pen knife close to his index finger in case he needed to make another cut for more blood.

A thing that looked like a dog appeared in the circle of burning blood. The legs didn't bend right, the ears had holes in them, and the maw that should have been a muzzle held too many teeth for a normal dog. It didn't have eyes to look at them, or a tail.

Reitman fired his rifle as soon as the sensors blinked green. He was going to burn up the house's electronics but he didn't care. Not being chomped on was higher on his list of priorities.

The blast missed as the dog charged them with a baying for blood. He headed right at Dunn. Once it chomped down on the bigger menace, it could turn and deal with the nuisance.

Dunn stabbed his hand. He wrote on the air with the activated blood. The dog blinked across the space without crossing it in steps. It slammed into a wall of burning letters and sat down.

Reitman fired his rifle again. He couldn't let it run now that it was vulnerable. He should have expected teleportation from a spectral menace. The blast ate away at the dog, punching holes in its substance. The dog howled in pain.

Dunn stepped forward and stabbed with his pen knife. Fire rushed through the dog. It became smoke and dissipated into the air. He folded the knife and put it away.

“The house looks clear,” said Reitman. He turned in a circle. The sensors in the rifle said the pressure was gone. He checked the readings on the screen. He checked for wifi before downloading the scan to the equipment in the van.

“Good job,” said Dunn. “It looks like it couldn't resist trying to grab someone else. You lured it out from the looks of things.”

“How are you going to get paid?,” said Reitman. “You don't have any proof of anything strange going on.”

“I don't have to have proof,” said Dunn. “The family will feel the difference as soon as they come home. That'll be enough. If it isn't, I'll do something to take my fee out in damages imposed.”

“I don't think that's legal,” said Reitman.

“We're in an area that human courts don't have any jurisdiction,” said Dunn. “You know that better than anyone.”

Reitman nodded. Supernatural problems believed in might makes right. Being able to disperse them into the atmosphere let you get away with a lot a normal human would never be allowed to do.

“Let me call the client,” said Dunn. “Once I have my check, I can work on your problem.”

“It's not really my problem,” said Reitman. He did another scan of the surroundings before he shut down the rifle. “The readings I took make me think that something is going to hit the Persona Tower and wreck it.”

“I hope you have bigger gun than that,” said Dunn. He pulled out his phone, and dialed the number of the residents.

“I do, but I'm hoping to put together a crew to get inside and wreck the focal point of things,” said Reitman. “The guards won't let me look around right now.”

“Security is like that,” said Dunn. He spoke into the phone, nodding as he answered questions. He hung up and put his phone away.

“If it will make things easier, I can download the readings for you to show your clients,” said Reitman.

“That would be great,” said Dunn. “It'll make things easier to explain anyway.”

"Where do you think that dog came from?,” asked Reitman. He started out of the house.

“The back yard,” said Dunn. “I'm leaving that part out of my report.”

“Why the back yard?,” asked Reitman as he walked to his van.

Dunn followed, hands in his pockets.

“That's where they buried Scruffy,” said Dunn.

“Oh no,” said Reitman. He shook his head as he stored the rifle before he took off the pack.