Marshall sat across from Kathleen at the long table as their mutual guest settled in at the center. The representative from the FBI was a surprisingly tall but gangly man in a well tailored suit with hair so perfectly jelled into place it almost appeared to be made of plastic. As Kathleen got up and leaned over him to pour him a drink, the man made no attempt to hide his admiration for her cleavage which was proudly displayed in her slightly undone white blouse. As the three of them tasted their wine, Marshall gently pushed the folder over to him.
"Well, shall we get started?" he asked with a stiff smile.
"Of course," the tall man nodded, setting his glass down and opening the folder, "This was about a few disappearances in and around that little nowhere town, wasn't it?"
"Dunwich," Kathleen offered, "And that few has grown to over a dozen."
The man paused, raising an eyebrow as his eyes began to scan over the documents before him.
"I see," he muttered, "If that's the case, I can understand your concern. And naturally, if the Governor hasn't yet paid this issue any attention it might be a good idea for you to step in and offer your assistance. Is that it? Well, I don't think it would be very hard to get the field office in Arkham to send a few agents that way."
"Actually," Marshall said, sipping his wine before continuing, "That's exactly what we'd like to avoid for the time being. As it is, I've already committed a number of my own people to this investigation and we have several promising leads. As of yet, we're mere days into our work, but as a semi independant entity it would make it difficult for us to continue if the FBI became entangled in this business. Our reasoning is twofold here, Director. Firstly, we would like to close this case with alacrity. Parents are worried for their children. Secondly, it may be of some political consequence whether our agency, having been assigned by Senator Rivers here, is able to bring this matter to a close."
The Director steepled his fingers in front of him, nodding seriously as Marshall continued.
"That's right. You are with our X-files division aren't you?" the man gave a slight chuckle and Marshall's lips tightened a little, "I didn't realize you had any men to spare."
"We are a small group, yes," Marshall replied stiffly, "Though, as our investigations are international, we do not fall under the direct supervision of the Bureau."
"But the Bureau still controls your budget," the man smiled, then cleared his throat, deciding he was through humiliating Marshall, "But lets nevermind that. I'm sure your men are capable at what they do, but how exactly does this fall within your purview? I was under the impression that you investigated...how did they put it? Unexplained phenomenon? Is there reason to believe these dissapearances are the result of some haunting or cryptid? More importantly, why is it that you wish to keep us out? We could only make things easier."
"You know Governor Dillinger is something of a derelict," Harmon straightened, " He's made his career out of fear mongering on issues of taxation and regulation. While his tax cuts have gained him some popularity, we need to show those same people who support him that those cuts may have created budget shortfalls in things like law enforcement and public safety measures. My men are not investigating in any official capacity. We are, at the moment, undercover."
"In short," Kathleen added, "I'm going to step in and using my own resources, bring back these missing persons...if possible. It would go a long way towards boosting our campaign and more importantly, to removing the Governor from Office."
The Director seemed deep in thought, but that didn't last. He nodded vigorously.
"I see. Well to be perfectly plain, I am no fan of Governor Dillinger. His attacks on the FBI have sewn some public distrust, particularly in our Arkham office. Baseless allegations of political actors abusing their positions. I think we might all benefit from a more amiable relationship between the agency and the state government. I don't know if I like this plan of yours, though. I can keep our people out of this, but only on the condition that you report your findings to me, Mr. Richter."
"I'd be more than happy to sent you daily updates," Marshall replied.
"Good. Good. But send them to my private e-mail. I have a closed, private server for that purpose. There's no need for this correspondance to be on record. And as for your campaign, Senator, perhaps we can discuss what other assistance I might provide in a different setting."
"That sounds lovely," Kathleen smiled as the three of them stood and exchanged handshakes.
* * *
Marshall had a notion what Kathleen was planning with the FBI Director. He knew she wouldn't get rid of him, but also that her pride wouldn't let her be used like some cheap call girl. She'd likely start stringing him along, giving very little physical attention, but using every ounce of her natural feminine prowess to entice him until the man would either fall in love with her or become obsessed. Marshall allowed himself a small smile as he went down in the elevator, trying to imagine what he might do were he caught in the path of her considerable charms.
He shook his head. He'd probably be eaten alive. Yet, he was not without his own wild side and he could be as dangerous as any ventrimancer when the moon was out. He dismissed the thought of a one on one confrontation between himself and Senator Rivers, instead focusing on his next meeting.
He drove back to his office in Arkham. There, he would find Rio Corzo and his...partner. Despite already having Senator Rivers as a source of information on the other world that they were going to be travelling through, Marshall was very interested to hear what Rio would have to say. First hand information was the best, afterall. Well...this was technically second hand, but it was the best he was going to get. Naturally, Kathleen had offered to take him and he had naturally refused. Why? For the same reason generals didn't fight on the front lines of large scale battles. Marshall wasn't about to risk his own life when without him at the helm, his newly budding organization would cease to exist.
He didn't like this Tiffany character. She was rough and had no respect for authority. She also dressed like a ten dollar hooker and talked like an extra from a 1990's sitcom. He'd been just a little insulted when he'd found out Kathleen had used her, a complete wild card who was only just adopted into her harem of belly button babes, to perform the first trial transportation of one of his agents.
Marshall pulled into the long paved driveway, the automatic gates opening soundlessly in front of him. The building looked like a lonely country mansion, tucked away in the woods by itself. When he parked in the culdesac, there were several black SUVs and one beat up Honda Civic.
Marshall knew right away that something was off when no one came to meet him at the door. His second clue was the loud crash inside and the sound of several gunshots being fired. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. His eyes drifted upwards to the night sky. The stars were bright, as was the moon, but it was only half full tonight. He pulled out his cell phone and pressed the button to tap in to his surveillance system. A grid of video feeds filled the small screen and he looked over the state of the place.
It looked as though there had been a large brawl in the main foyer. Tables and chairs were overturned and his keen eyes spotted several bullet holes in the walls. Two of his security team were clearing the second floor. One of them was on the first floor, inside the bathroom. Marshall selected that camera to get a closer look.
No sooner had he maximized the view then a small pair of hands reached out from behind the black suited man and dragged him back into the corner behind the door. Tiffany immediately took control of the man's hand, forcing him to drop the gun. She then locked her arms around his neck, squeezing him in a choke hold that incredibly he seemed unable to get out of, despite the difference in size weighing heavily in his favor.
Marshall watched impassively as the man slowly sank back against the small, muscular woman, who was wearing nothing but a gold bikini top and a pair of purple yoga pants. When he seemed to be unconscious, her arms unfastened from around his neck and she pushed him down until the back of his head was resting against her stomach, then she leaned over him and clasped his face in both hands, pushing him into her belly button, which opened easily, swallowing him headfirst.
Within minutes, while the other two were just finishing their sweep of the second floor, Tiffany had sucked in and swallowed the man, arching her back against the wall and licking her lips in satisfaction before quickly slipping out of the restroom and moving through the hall to tuck herself behind the stairwell.
Marshall watched with more interest now, taking note of the fact that while she had not taken the weapon after disarming the guard, the way she was checking corners and positioning herself in blind spots made it seem as though she had received some formal training. Perhaps she'd done a few years in the military, he wondered.
When the two remaining men came down the stairs, she struck at the precise moment when the second man passed the threshold and the first made his turn down the hall. She raised her arm and delivered a sharp back handed blow to the back of the man's neck and caught him as he fell, silently dragging him into the hall and slipping into a closet while the first continued for just a moment in the opposite direction.
Marshall couldn't believe his eyes when the first man turned and started calling out to his partner, searching the immediate area only to find Tiffany emerging from the closet with a pair of feet still jutting from her belly after mere seconds. He fired a wild shot, but she darted past him with incredible speed and shot down the hall, turning into his office as the man followed hot in her heels.
Marshall decided at this point that he'd seen enough. He was disappointed in his security detail; that was the obvious thing, but he was also intrigued by the seemingly uncanny strength and skill of the woman currently ingesting them. He had assigned six men to her detail and there was currently one remaining. It wasn't difficult to guess where the other five were currently. So, with a deep sigh, Marshall put his phone back in his jacked and stepped out into the brisk night. He sniffed the air, then his ear twitched at the sharp report of a service pistol inside his office. A crash followed and a short scream that sounded not at all feminine. He started up the steps and went inside.
* * *
When he entered his office she was alone, laying back in his office chair, back arched like a cat stretching. The book shelves behind her had practically vomitted their library onto the floor. Papers and knick knacks also littered the carpet. Harmon watched with animal fascination as a pair of legs in dark dress pants with shiny black shoes kicked frantically as they slowly sank down into the soft brown flesh of Tiffany's bare stomach. She let out a loud moan, as she arched her back, hands running down her sides. She smiled so wide that her mouth seemed to stretch around the sides of her head. She pulled her stomach in, sucking the legs deeper inside, then arched her back again, thrusting her hips up towards the ceiling. She did this several times, seemingly performing a mock orgasm as she swallowed the last of the security detail, his glistening shoes vanishing inside her belly button as it puckered and a small deep gulping sound echoed from within her abdomen. Tiffany's eyes looked glazed as they rolled towards Harmon and she gave him a casual wave as though his appearance was some sort of a punch line.
Marshall matched her dismissive air as he crossed the room and bent to pick up one of his books. He opened it, thumbing through disinterestedly until Tiffany finally seemed to register his presence in full.
"Well damn," she said with a giggle, rubbing her belly meaningfully, "I don't know if I got that much more room in here, sweetie. You look like you might put me over the top."
Marshall gave her a sharp look, but smiled, "So I take it you've devoured my security team? Those were good men. Could I ask, how did you manage to overpower them?"
Tiffany laughed, "Baby I might not look like a heavyweight, but every one that goes in here," she pointed to her belly button, "Juices me up another level. And I don't know if you keep track, but that's six just now, which puts me into superhero territory. Shit, I'm like Luke Cage or some shit right now."
"I see," Marshall nodded, still apparently reading, "Then I can assume you have not performed your task and brought Rio back out?"
"Honey, please," Tiffany grinned, "That boy was too yummy to cough up. I don't think he's even in here anymore."
"He was meant to be your partner. So you betrayed him?"
Tiffany laughed out loud, "Betrayed? Are you serious right now?"
"And by extension of that, you've betrayed Senator Rivers and myself."
"Betrayed," Tiffany mimicked him, "Honey, I didn't betray shit, because I never promised shit. I went along when you had me and now you don't. So now, I think maybe that means I'm running this shit."
"Hmm..." Marshall stopped, pointing at a place on the page, "Have you ever read The Abolition of Man? You might enjoy it."
"Okay, I ain't gonna let you go on and lecture me, old man. And you know what? I don't think I'm hungry right now either. So maybe you'd like a little demonstration of what six men plus me can do to a washed up wannabe spy."
With that, Tiffany suddenly leapt up onto the table and leaped clear over Marshall's head to the doorway, turning to block his path. She cracked her knuckles with an eager smile, then reared back and swung a wide haymaker in the direction of his head.
Instead of dodging out of the way, Marshall lifted one hand and caught her by the wrist with a loud slap. Tiffany ripped her arm free and took a step back, eyes darting around until they spotted an overturned corner table which she dashed over to. She lifted it with one hand and then ran at Marshall, swinging the table like a bat. This time, he raised his fist and delivered a backhanded blow at the same time, smashing the table to splinters between them. Then, before Tiffany could recover from the shock of what had just happened, he blitzed her, charging forward with lupine speed, grasping her by the throat and lifting her clear off the floor before slamming her into the wall with enough force to crack the plaster.
"Shit," Tiffany rasped, hands clawing at Marshall's arm as he continued to squeeze her neck, "What the fuck are you?"
Marshall's eyes flashed yellow, "I'm the Director and I'm directing you to release my men and return my agent to me. If you agree to do this, nodd once."
She nodded with some difficulty and he let go, allowing her to drop unceremoniously to the floor. She coughed and rubbed at her neck, looking up at him in disbelief.
"The fuck you even need security for?" she asked.
"There are many reasons. Now give them back. If you truly are famished then I'm sure I can have some real food brought to you later. For now, I'm afraid you'll have to go hungry."
Tiffany seemed to think on it for a moment, one hand gently rubbing her belly. Finally, she got up and started preparing herself to release the men imprisoned inside of her. As she did, Marshall closed the book he was still holding and set it on his desk. He shook his head as he watched her begin to pull men out from her navel like a magician pulling rabbits from a hat.
"It's just as you say, Lewis; a hard heart is no protection against a soft head."

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