Black Christmas

Chapter 4

"Jerry." Greg is almost enthusiastic as he at last greets a familiar face.

"Well I can only guess what you're here for. News has spread fast, you know."

This pleases Greg. Knowing he can cut out the bullshit and get right down to business is something he's in desperate need of at this stage of the mission. "We don't have a lot of time, Jerry. The closest thing to a police force we have is workshop security, and they're not  made for this kind of thing. I'm putting together a task force."

Jerry, seeing this coming, looks back at his wife and two boys sitting by the fireplace. "Listen, man. I have a family. I know back in the day when we played 'cops and robbers,' I'd always talk the talk. I'd always say I was brave and bold and would risk my life to save the day. But it's just not like that anymore. Now, my life goes to protecting the ones I love. I have to stay here with them."

"And nothing could change your mind?"

"My only purpose right now is protecting them. The best place for me to do that is right here. I can't go out risking my life to fight a battle that isn't mine. Not anymore."

So many arguments go through Greg's mind, but deep down he knows none of them compare to what Jerry stands for. He knows that Jerry's decision is best for him and can't debate. Instead, he thanks the elf for his time and turns away from his top choice for a second in command.

***

Two tall black elves answer the second door of Greg's trip. "Can we help you?" Both of their deep, intimidating voices are heard at once.

"Brick, Bailey, good to see you guys." Greg fakes a smile. He can't believe he's talking to these idiots, but he knows he has to for the good of the team.

"You too, Greg." They both smile back, but for them the look is real. Underneath their huge, destructive physiques lie two sweethearts who wouldn't hurt a fly if it didn't hurt them first.

"Listen, guys, I'm going to cut to the chase. I'm sure you've heard about the killings over at Santa's workshop. Well, I'm in charge of solving that problem."

The twins look at each other, puzzled. "We didn't do it."

Greg is still baffled by how they manage to speak in perfect unison every time they open their stupid mouths. "I know, guys, but I need your help finding the one who did. I want you guys to be my muscle."

"Muscle." The brothers flex simultaneously, and Greg could almost swear he hears their shirts rip. "We're in."

This has gone better than expected. He didn't even have to bribe them as he'd planned. "Excellent, boys. You have some weapons you could bring?"

Greg watches as the brothers go backward into their den and look around. With time wasting, he wonders why they're busy dicking around instead of coming with him. Obviously, there are no weapons in there.

The twins approach the sofa in the center of the room. Greg is instantly stricken with fear as they go to work on the furniture, beating it to a pulp and tearing out pieces. He regrets his decision to fetch the imbeciles and knows that if not properly kept under control, they could jeopardize the mission. Alas, as they walk back with massive pieces of splintered wood in their just as massive arms, he concedes that their muscle is necessary to help his task force.

"Let's go, guys."

***

Greg and the boys stop at the donut shop now. Brick and Bailey look hungry as the three walk in the threshold and hear the Ding that alerts the bakers that they've arrived.

Greg is not hear for donuts, though. He leads the men right back to a corner table, where the four elves he's looking four spend most of their time.

"Fellas, it's been awhile."

The others look up from the table and see their former high school chess teammate staring at them. They're smart guys, and they know exactly what he's here for. "If you want our help," pipes up former captain Alan, "we'll give it all we've got."

"You four were some of the smartest men I've ever met in my life. The shit we pulled together in high school will brighten my memories forever. You'll always be my main squad, and tonight, and I need you to be a part of an even bigger one."

Eric, Drew, and Gavin rise from the table as Alan stays in his seat drinking his black coffee. They all pat Greg on the back and shake the hands of Brick and Bailey.

Gavin looks into Greg's eyes and makes a promise. "We will get to the bottom of this, man. No one else will die tonight. It ends soon."

"Are you coming?" Drew looks at Alan, wondering why he hasn't gotten up yet.

"Yes sir, in fact I've already begun. I do my best thinking sitting down."

***

Greg's been lucky so far as to see some familiar faces. He's almost been coming back to a mental state that allows him some enjoyment. Now, the full seriousness continues to rest on his shoulders as he and his six companions approach the home of Drew's cousin James.

"He's exactly what we need, Greg. He's a tactical genius. He's spent half his life studying war tactics around the world. If it comes down to an ambush, he can lead us in. He'll be perfect for your second in command."

Greg knows the only perfect choice for a second in command is the childhood friend of him and Gordon. As one of the hardest working blue collar elves in the North Pole, Jerry's got exactly the heart that it takes to help him lead a team. Alas, he needs someone, and Drew's promises have never been exaggerations.

"Chill, Brick." Alan looks cross at the moronic elf as he pounds on James' door. Nevertheless, the door creaks open.

A voice is heard from somewhere in the house. "Come in."

Greg orders the others to stay outside as he and Drew walk into the dark home. Something doesn't feel right about the house, but nothing's felt right since 8:59 PM, so Greg continues to follow.

The pair walks up on a short, bearded elf seated quietly at his kitchen table, surrounded by hundreds of army men that Greg hasn't seen since he was twelve years old. He wonders what kind of grown man would still play with toys like these.

"Robert E. Lee had every advantage."

Drew looks irritated. "What are you talking about, Jimmy?"

"Lee was the better general. Grant had nothing on him. So how did the Confederacy fall?"

"I don't know man. But listen..."

"I'll tell you how. Sometimes, the cause for fighting outweighs the fight itself. Passion wins the most battles."

"Fascinating. Anyway, we need all your tactical bullshit tonight. We've got a team."

"The murderer. Yes. I've already been thinking about how to take him down."

Greg chimes in. "We could really use your input, sir."

James smiles and nods slowly. "I know you can. Even if you found this guy, how would you and your rag tag bunch of assholes out there in the snow take him down? You wouldn't. He'd best you. He's already proven to be a professional."

"That's why we're here, sir. Will you help us?"

"You ask me to fight for your cause."

"Yes, sir."

"Well, let's go."