Agents Of Mayhem: An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure (Federal Agents of Magic Book 2)

by TR Cameron

  Spicy perfume. Nice.

  “I haven’t seen you around before. I’m sure I would’ve noticed.”

  He nodded. “New here. House on hill.”

  Charlotte smiled. “Well, welcome to the University of Pittsburgh, then. Call it Pitt. We all do. What are you and your friend up to?” She gestured at the dog, who had shifted out of the path of shuffling students to lie beneath her chair. Rath scowled at him, and Max stretched and sighed contentedly under the accusing glare.

  “Recon. Max must train.”

  She gave a single decisive nod. Clearly, she understood the importance of training.

  Definitely watches the kung fu channel.

  “He seems more interested in napping at the moment.”

  Rath nodded sadly. “Max needs energy.”

  The professor laughed and fumbled in her bag. “It just so happens that I didn’t finish my lunch today. I have two pierogies left. Would you each like one?”

  The troll tilted his head, a little dubious despite his excitement at the thought of food. “Pi-roe-gee?”

  “It’s pasta with potato and cheese inside. Well, sometimes, there’s other stuff, but I’m a purist.”

  “Mmm. Cheese.”

  She took that for the affirmative it was and handed him the treat. It was about two-thirds his size, so he nibbled at the edge. He actually enjoyed the chewy texture of the outer shell and once he reached the filling, it was even better.

  “Thank you. Max can have?”

  Charlotte passed the other down to the dog. He gulped it greedily in a single bite and gave her a grateful lick on the hand as a reward. Or, possibly, to get any residue off her fingers, but she didn’t seem to mind.

  Rath was only a quarter through his but didn’t want to give his partner time to fall asleep again. “Can keep for later?”

  She nodded and laughed. “Of course. Here.” She used the waxy paper she had taken the food from and helped him to cover what remained. Her gaze flicked to the large clock at the apex of a stone arch. “I have to go teach my class, Rath. I’d love to talk with you again, though. I’m on the eleventh floor if you want to visit me sometime.” She gestured at the bank of elevators across the room.

  “Will. Thank you.”

  He looked down and shook his head. His partner now sprawled in a manner that indicated his intention to sleep. “Max. Let’s go.” The Borzoi stood slowly, stretched, and moved to the side of the table. Rath jumped and his balance was off due to the large treat he carried under his arm, but he recovered quickly. The woman laughed as they renewed their exploration.

  The troll patted his trusty steed’s neck. “Max. Good dog. Continue recon.”

  Rambo would never get distracted by food. Food is for later. Now is for training.

  Diana waited impatiently in the sunny lobby of the Coworking building. A different guard now sat at the desk. Keith seemed like Larry in most respects. Apparently, five guards in total took shifts to cover the twenty-four-seven access the company provided to its clients—another useful piece of subterfuge, Bryant had pointed out. Diana wasn’t buying it.

  This hiding out in the open could easily come back to bite us.

  She caught motion in her peripheral vision as a tough-looking woman navigated the revolving door. Diana focused on her and blinked decisively. Her AR glasses responded to the command immediately and snapped an image to check against the woman’s file. Positive match flashed on the far right of her display.

  At least the data encoder and wireless are working.

  Not much else was. At least, not yet. She knew her frustration was a symptom of her enthusiasm to get moving, but that didn’t make it any easier.

  Cara Binot’s scrutiny worked systematically from right to left to analyze her surroundings. The signs of rigid training and discipline were easily recognizable. It had taken Diana a long time to break that habit after she entered the FBI. It was too big a tell for targets who knew what to look for.

  She was taller than Diana—naturally. Everyone was taller than her. The woman made no hurried movement and simply took time to categorize everything and everyone as threat or non-threat. When the candidate finished her assessment, Diana stepped forward and extended a hand. “Cara? I’m Diana.”

  The woman smiled and took the offered hand in a strong grip. Her long black hair fell in unkempt waves over her shoulders, and dark eye makeup set off the thin nose and pale pink lips below. A burst of laughter immediately followed from both women as each sought to refrain from indulging their reflexive instincts. Diana gestured at the elevator bank. “Let’s head upstairs.”

  The black espresso machine on the credenza burbled and saturated the air with the smell of dark roast as the pair took in the view. Diana filled two mugs that featured the cover company’s logo, left both free of sugar and cream, and handed one to her guest. She chose a chair on the far side of the table, and Cara took the seat on the end nearest her.

  The woman perched on the edge of her chair with the rigidity only a soldier could master. Diana straightened her spine to match. “So, Cara, thank you for coming. I’ve heard a few things about you, but how about you help fill in the blanks for me?”

  Cara nodded, took a sip of her coffee, and set it on the table. “Basic background, I’m Army. I completed basic training and advanced individual training in infantry at Fort Benning.” She hesitated as if waiting for a response, then continued. “Did airborne school, then joined the Marshals. Along the way, I grabbed an online degree in sociology from Central Florida.”

  “Sociology? I would’ve guessed criminal justice, or maybe military history.”

  Cara grinned. “My mother would say it’s because I hate being predictable.” She shrugged and her eyes gleamed with what could have been a private joke. “Mainly, I thought it would be useful to study why groups of people do the things they do and interact in specific manners. Psychology was a possibility, but I found it was too individually focused.”

  Diana nodded. “What’s your day-to-day like with the Marshals?”

  “I’m in the special operations group. We apprehend or eliminate fugitives in addition to standard investigations.”

  It confirmed what she'd seen in the file. The fact that she didn’t emphasize exactly how good she was—very good, by all accounts—was a point in her favor. “Have you faced any magic?”

  Cara laughed. “It’s hard to avoid in this day and age, isn’t it? Sometimes, our targets have magical support. At other times, we’re invited to take on bounties when there’s no one else around to handle it.”

  Diana perked up. “Give me an example.”

  The candidate took another sip and eased her posture in the chair to make herself a little more comfortable. “Okay, this jerk wizard down in South Carolina had set himself up in a dilapidated old plantation building and ran a fight club out of it. Ordinarily, that would’ve been fine.” She shook her head and corrected herself. “Well, not fine, obviously, but not squarely in the Marshals’ purview. The fact that he actively recruited people on our wanted list made it ours to deal with. Even then, it might not have risen to an immediate priority, except he cheated. Once someone had won through the brackets and expected their reward, he tossed in the little wrinkle that they had to battle him to be paid, with no rest and directly after their winning bout. He killed three of them with fire before we got word.”

  She nodded, took a sip of her brew, and waited for the applicant to continue.

  Cara shrugged. “Anyway, we went in for a capture, but he fought and burned the building to ash around us. We were forced to take him out.”

  “We?” Diana pressed.

  “Okay, I was forced to take him out. The bastard would’ve killed us otherwise. We were lucky to be in range of his protective runes. The downside of that meant we were in range of all his other spells, too. It was only the anti-magic rounds that saved me.”

  Diana nodded as she recalled her own previous encounters with stubborn mages.

  If
ARES can’t find a supplier soon, I’ll need to go out of house for those. Someone is intercepting our deliveries. But who’s the traitor? She shook her head. I can’t think about that now.

  “What level was he?”

  “Three. He probably should have been a four, considering how well he trapped his home against unwanted intrusion. Taking on a bad guy in his stronghold always sucks.”

  Diana grinned. “Sociology?”

  Cara shook her head. “Military history.”

  The two shared another laugh at the brief exchange before Diana stood and refilled their mugs. “So, you’ve had the brief about ARES and what we’re up to, yes?”

  “Mostly. Basically, you deal with magical threats wherever they pop up.”

  She returned the coffee pot and sat again, then slid the extra cup to her guest. “That’s generally right. Although we’ll aim for the higher end of the danger spectrum and leave the lowest ones for independent bounty hunters.”

  The other woman nodded.

  “Do you still want in?”

  Cara sipped the brew, then lowered her mug to look her in the eye. “First, I have a couple of questions for you. Since you’re the one in charge, what’s important to you? Why are you—personally—doing this?”

  The earnestness in her voice suggested it wasn’t a throwaway inquiry, so Diana took her time to carefully consider the answer. “It’s a mix of all the normal things, I guess. Patriotism, responsibility, a desire to make a change. All that stuff is real and important.” She paused and looked out the window. “But at the heart of it? I despise bullies.” She turned back to her companion. “And all the assholes we’ve faced so far are classic condescending, better-than-thou, card-carrying, bullying trash. They need to be taught a lesson, and ARES is open to tutor them.”

  The candidate grinned. “All right. You’ve sold me. What’s next?”

  “How about a test?” Diana’s grin was now a little feral. “There’s a level two bounty who’s popped up on the radar over the last couple of days. Breaking and entering, destruction of property—normal criminal stuff. How about we teach him the error of his ways?”

  Cara slapped her palms on the table. “Absolutely. There’s no time like the present.”

  Chapter Four

  She took Cara through the basement levels and out to the garage. There’s not much risk, even if she decides not to join us. A tap on her watch activated a current-model sedan, and they circled to the trunk. She popped it with another touch to reveal a pair of cases inside. “While we’re still spinning up, our armory’s mobile.”

  Her companion nodded her understanding.

  Diana heaved the containers out and set them on the car. The longer box opened to display two Colt M4 carbines with collapsed stocks. She handed one to Cara and was satisfied to see the woman check the rifle carefully, verify that the magazine was full, and extend a hand for a spare. She slapped it into her palm and laughed. “Standard load. Depending on where we find him, they might be too much bang, but let’s at least have them ready.”

  Cara nodded. “There are usually civilians present when the Marshals have to confront someone, too. It seems like a deliberate defense mechanism.”

  “It hasn’t been a problem in many of my BAM missions yet, but I’m sure that’s the exception, rather than the rule.”

  “BAM?”

  “Only the suits call it ARES. We prefer Black-ops Agents of Magic.”

  The marshal chuckled. “I didn’t want to say anything, but BAM is much better than ARES.”

  The second case Diana opened held two standard Kevlar vests and a pair of illusion necklaces. I don’t want to waste our deflectors on anyone under a level-three. She dropped one of each over her head and handed the others over. Cara mimicked the action and looked quizzically at her.

  “One of our ongoing challenges will be to keep the federal side of things hidden while we work under the guise of the security agency. These change our looks. They’re self-powered and take a voice command to activate.” She wasn’t sure how the necklaces were created, nor what level of magic was required to craft the artifacts, but had long since decided it wasn't worth worrying about so long as they worked. Bryant had said that they would work on both magicals and non-magicals, so she’d simply take him at his word.

  And if they do need magic, there’s no guarantee Cara lacks sufficient power, is there?

  She flashed back to Bryant’s first tease after she’d revealed her power. “You didn’t tell me you had magic,” he’d said. She laughed inwardly. Then she realized that the other woman was watching her and snapped the cases closed. “You put your hand on the pendant, say ‘falach,’ and you’ll look like someone else for a while.”

  “Anyone in particular? I always thought Sandra Bullock was pretty hot.”

  She laughed. “Nope. Some sort of random average amalgamation of features. Who knows? Our magic techs are seriously impressive. So are the non-magic techs, for that matter.”

  She stowed the cases, and they slid into the car. Cara watched the scenery pass outside the window in silence as they drove, then finally broke it in favor of the inevitable questions. “So, why Pittsburgh? And why me?”

  Diana turned left toward the river. “Pittsburgh, because the city is a hub for magic, both good and bad. I’m not sure exactly why it’s so popular, but the revelation of the Cube can only make things worse.”

  Cara nodded. “The reveal to the media came a little earlier than expected—or so it seemed to me.”

  She scowled, sharing the woman’s sentiment. “It did. We’re still looking into how that happened. Let’s simply say the rollout hasn’t been without its issues.” She swung the car across the bridge and turned right to drive along the river. “As for your other question, that’s easy. You’re skilled, you’ve proven you’re tough, and you seem sane, despite your interest in joining us.”

  Her companion laughed. “Mostly sane, at least.”

  “Sometimes, that’s the best anyone can do.” Diana checked the GPS on her watch and swung the sedan into a gravel lot. Ahead was a large metal-walled building that had probably once been a factory dedicated to some part of the steel production process. Now, a hand-painted tattoo-inspired sign proclaimed it to be an auto body shop. The giant entryway spewed an unholy clamor of rock music, heavy clanging, and power tools through its open maw.

  Diana took the lead as she stepped out of the car. Cara flanked her on her left. By unspoken agreement, they chose not to carry the rifles as it was too much firepower for such a public location. She activated her necklace and the other woman did the same and grimaced at the sensation as her features squashed and morphed into something plain and unattractive. Her skin was now pale and splotchy, her hair a frizzy orange, and her eyes had assumed a dull green shade that emphasized the freckles and patches of psoriasis along her neck. As a final touch, her nose had swollen to look more like a snout. Diana didn’t want to know what she looked like. She sighed as she looked at her jacket. It was a luxury she would have to learn to live without when she was on missions. Wearing the same favorites was a rookie mistake, and this was the big leagues.

  They made their way casually through the space and avoided eye contact as they sought their target. Diana’s leather coat was loose enough that she could cleanly access the Glock in its shoulder rig. Cara kept her right hand on her hip to hasten the draw from the holster at the small of her back.

  The car had an encoder and repeater, so the AR glasses were able to assist in the search. She spotted the bounty from a distance and nodded her head subtly in his direction. Her companion interpreted it and shifted to take a parallel path along the left wall while Diana continued down the center aisle. A few catcalls and a proposition or two tagged their progress, but nobody moved to harass either of them. Either there was a strict non-fraternizing policy or they knew something was up. Their target was working a dent out of a dark purple Toyota 86 when she reached him.

  She halted across the hood from where he
knelt and yelled, “Harold, we’d like to have a word with you.” He didn’t respond, so she stepped around and waved a hand in front of his face. He stumbled back, clearly alarmed, and yanked the earplugs from his ears as he straightened. He towered above her, a fact she did not enjoy.

  I wonder if there’s any magic to make me taller.

  His bushy red beard was dirty, and a dark smudge of grease smeared across his cheek.

  He looked at her and snarled, “What?”

  Diana shook her head. She’d seen enough of the tough guy attitude in her life. Then again, they had interrupted his work on a very expensive piece of machinery. “Hi, Harold. Great first impression, by the way. We’d like to chat with you.”

  He swiveled his head and his gaze found Cara where she leaned against the far wall. From her position, she had a clear line of sight. He muttered an expletive and turned back to Diana. “I didn’t do anything, Officer.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “Then why do you assume I’m with the law?”

  The bounty coughed and pointed at her vest. It’s obvious. You look like police.”

  Sadly, she had to give him points there. “Well, you’re half right. Can we get out of the noise and talk?”

  He frowned and failed to move. “Having magic’s not a crime yet, is it?” He gestured to the car as if to say, “Hey, I’m using it for good.”

  Diana shrugged. “No, but breaking into ATMs with it is. Magic doesn’t give you permission to take other people’s stuff.”

  His face went blank for a second before he marshaled his intellectual reserves and countered, “You can’t prove it was me.” Either those reserves were frighteningly limited, or he simply tried his luck with a feeble ploy—to what, buy himself time?

  She raised a brow and withdrew her phone from her back pocket. He squinted at the screen as she held up the security camera footage of him smashing an ATM with a force blast.

  Harold seemed genuinely surprised for a moment before he sighed. “Damn. That first fucking spell was supposed to fuzz the camera.”