Artful Evil

by C. G Harris

  I narrowed my eyes. “That doesn’t seem like a headline worthy event. What’s the catch?”

  This time Alex hesitated, looking up at the ceiling as if the answer might float down to her from the thick, metal sheeting. “You may not like that part as much. I want us to hijack a hazardous cargo train, derail it in a town, and cause some major chaos.”

  “What? That’s no better than the passenger train.”

  “Sure, it is. People will have time to get out of the way—for the most part. If the railroad is on the ball, they should be able to warn the town long before it hits.”

  “Are you sure about that?” I said. “What if it piles up on Main Street with no one the wiser?”

  Alex slapped her hand down on the counter and turned to face me. “We are expected to orchestrate our own missions at times like these. You should be happy I didn’t come up with a way to wipe out a football stadium or a major city.”

  I stared at her in disbelief. I had worked with Alex for a while now. We had been through some crazy situations together, not all of them good, but she had never leaned the way of a typical Judas Agent. They were all about death and destruction, but Alex had a heart. At least, I thought she did. Even considering something like this made me think I may have misjudged her this whole time.

  Alex looked away, and, in that moment, I knew I was right. She played the part of a hardened Judas Agent, but deep inside beat a heart bigger than anyone I had ever met. I just had to help her remember it.

  “We’re doing this.” She straightened, stiffening her resolve before I could say anything else. “I will do all the research and legwork, but you’re coming. You owe me, and now is the time to pay up.”

  I grumbled something unintelligible, and she snapped a backhand into my sternum, causing me to buckle over.

  “I’m sorry?” She cocked her head to one side as if she were straining to hear me. “Did you say something, partner? Something like, ‘Yes, of course I’ll have your back the way you’ve had mine every time I’ve had some half-baked idea to run our mission into the ditch?’ Is that what you were going to say?”

  I groaned. Much as I wanted to support her, I wasn’t just a Judas Agent. Judas Iscariot had personally recruited me into his organization to do the opposite. I was a double agent, part of his Denarii Division, which prevented the very worst catastrophes from ever happening. Alex knew nothing of this, of course. She believed I was a Boy Scout in wolf’s clothing. In a way, I guess I was. The problem came with the fact that Alex kept getting sucked into my Good Samaritan activities. Not helpful for her or her career.

  Alex turned her gaze back on me again. It felt like a two-hundred-pound bag of guilt dropped into my lap.

  I sighed. “All right.”

  “All right, what?” She kept her ear cocked toward my mouth, waiting to hear the words.

  “All right, I have your back on this one, just like I always do.”

  Her eye roll would’ve impressed every teenage girl within miles.

  “Look, I just don’t want a bunch of people getting hurt. I may have earned an eternity in Hell, but I’m not a monster.”

  “And I am?” Alex backed off and glanced up at me. “How about if we find an empty cargo train and then derail it way out in the middle of nowhere? We can even make sure the conductor and engineer jump off in time, so no one gets hurt.”

  A little bit of that guilt bubble began to dissolve at this idea.

  “Yeah,” I smiled and nodded. “I could be on board with something like—”

  “I was kidding.” Alex shook her head. “Figures you would want to do something like that. What good is a train derailment if nothing is destroyed? It would be like robbing a bank before anyone put any money in it. What’s the point?”

  “I still don’t see why we have to do something so destructive,” I grumbled. “We could spend our time doing something more constructive. Like digging around and find out what Simeon’s up to. Don’t you want to know why he possessed the body of an autistic genius to control a cancer curing nanotechnology? We’re the bad guys, remember? He can’t be looking out for the greater good. We can see what he’s really up to, yank him out of Ryan’s body, and stop whatever crazy plan he has for the world.”

  Simeon had been our last mission, or at least the disastrous results of it. He was a loose end the way Rapunzel had hair, and I couldn’t let go until I caught up to his game. Alex looked like someone had hit her in the face with a wet gym sock, and her face continued to contort as the silence grew.

  I couldn’t take it anymore. “What?”

  She took in a deep breath and gritted her teeth. “How does that stupid-ass plan fit into the mission statement of The Judas Agency? This place is called ‘The Disaster Factory’ for a reason.” Her voice got louder as she inched closer to me. “Disaster being the key word. What you just described is called, hhhhheeeelllllppppping. We are NOT agents of the rainbow-land unicorn coalition; we are Judas Agents! Now act like one!”

  I leaned back and put my hands up. “Ok, ok. You’re right. I was just wondering—”

  “Stop! I don’t care what you are wondering. I don’t care what Simeon is doing. I told you. This is a chance to make a name for ourselves, and that’s exactly what we’re going to do.” She let out an exasperated breath while she closed her eyes.

  “Okay, I get it. We have a job to do.” I tried to keep the cynicism out of my voice but didn’t quite succeed. Alex either didn’t notice or decided to ignore it.

  “The bad news is we don’t have much time to do it.” She winced as she sat down on the bar stool next to me. “If Sabnack sends us out on another mission, we won’t be able to pull it off, and it’ll be a missed opportunity.”

  I raised my head, seeing a glimmer of hope. If I could drag my feet and cause Alex to miss her window ...

  “And don’t think you are going to drag your feet and try to slow me down either.” She eyed me. “I’m onto your good guy tricks. They won’t work.”

  I tried to look abashed. “I told you I was on your side. I can’t believe you think I’d—”

  “Yeah, whatever. Just don’t try to derail my plans.”

  “I see what you did there.”

  “I was waiting to use that one.” She smirked. “Seriously, though. I need this.”

  I nodded, feeling that guilt bubble grow even heavier. “Don’t worry. I’ll help however I can.”

  It was a lie, of course. I had already decided if there were a way to stop her I would, but I had to figure a way to do it without jeopardizing her position at The Agency or our partnership. All in a day’s work in the Denarii Division.

  “What can I get you two?” Dan set two glasses down in front of us and leaned into the bar.

  “How about some of the good stuff,” I said.

  Dan reached down and pulled out a fresh can of Dr. Pepper. About as rare as rare got in The Nine. Dan had all the booze anyone could want, but it didn’t do any good. It tasted terrible and never got you drunk. Hangovers were still a thing though. I could never figure how, but drink enough hooch, and you would go straight from sober to hangover city. Hell definitely had a sick sense of humor.

  Dan poured the soda. I took a long pull of the fizzy liquid.

  “Thanks, Dan.” Alex raised her glass to him. “The place looks great. It’s really shaping up in here. Pretty soon, you’ll have more business than you know what to do with.”

  A crash signaled the arrival of the firestorm outside. Storms always started with thick droplets of molten fire then graduated into boulder sized brimstone raining down. For those stuck out there, it would be like dodging a lava machine gun during a smelting rockslide. The lucky few inside got to listen to the carnage firsthand. No matter what kind of Woebegone were out there, I cringed every time another brimstone crashed into the building.

  The patrons began to twitch as well. They had lost their boisterous laughter and seemed to wonder if Hula Harry’s would stand up to the pounding from outside.
>
  “Don’t worry,” Dan said. “This place has been here longer than most of you. Relax and have another drink.”

  The crowd of Woebegone loosened up a little at that, and Dan turned his attention to us again. “Kids don’t understand how lucky they are right now.”

  “At least you have a safe place to hunker down,” Alex said, finishing her drink. “I’m glad you were here. I can’t remember the last time I was out in something like this.”

  Firestorms conveniently missed The Judas Agency, always skirting around the borders of the compound, so Alex had likely missed out on firestorms for quite some time.

  “It’s been nice while it lasted.” Dan pulled out another can and filled our glasses with a second dose. “You may as well drink these up. Between you and me, in a week Hula Harry’s is going out of business for good.”

  Chapter Four

  “What do you mean shut down Hula Harry’s?” I slammed my glass down a little harder than I meant to. “You can’t shut down! This is the one safe-haven Scrapyard City has. Woebegone can forget they’re in Hell while there here, even if it’s just for a little while. That’s no small thing.”

  Dan clamped his pipe in his teeth and then went back to drying a set of highball glasses behind the bar on the towel he always had slung over his shoulder. “It’s not as if I want to close the place down.” He scrubbed at a particularly stubborn spot, scrutinizing it under his squinted stare. “I don’t have a choice.”

  “You don’t have a choice?” I wanted to throw my glass across the room. “I’ve worked my tail off the last few weeks setting up your secret storeroom, and I stuck my neck out arranging that black-market supply line for your soda.”

  “I never asked you to do that for me. That was your choice. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate it. But...”

  “But what?” I looked over for some backup from Alex who still nursed her Dr. Pepper like a high dollar scotch.

  “What do you want me to do about it?” she said. “It’s his place.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose and did my best not to scream then looked up at Dan again. His methodical way of drying his glasses was about to drive me over the edge.

  “And what about them?” I motioned to the Woebegone behind me. “You’ve built up quite a following over the past few weeks. What was the point of all that if you were just going to shove them out the door next week?”

  Another series of booms announced a barrage of brimstone bouncing off the reinforced walls of the bar. The Woebegone I had motioned to were gathering closer and closer together, like sheep seeking safety from a wolf—carrying a flame thrower.

  “It does seem a little strange,” Alex said. “If you weren’t ready for this, why did you work so hard to set it all up?”

  Dan peered out at his frightened patrons and sighed. “I know you haven’t been here long, but have you ever wondered why a place like this exists? More importantly, why it’s allowed to exist?” Dan stacked his glass on a pyramid behind the bar then picked up another and started buffing it to a shine as well. “Look at us. We should be out in that storm, dying like all the other Woebegone, but here we are, sitting in a bar, drinking soda, and having a good time. Those Woebegone behind you were enjoying themselves too.”

  He stopped drying his glass for a moment and eyed us as if his point should be obvious.

  “We’re in The Nine. Having a good time is not on the menu.”

  I had never considered that. My shop was small, so it flew under the radar. Hula Harry’s was big enough to put a Quick-E-Mart to shame. Any Hellion would be obligated to tear the place down out of sheer principal.

  “So, what’s your secret?” I asked. “How do you keep the place running?”

  Dan’s eyes went up to his other patrons to make sure no one was listening, then he leaned into us and whispered. “I pay off a high-level demon for protection.”

  Alex’s mouth fell open. I was less shocked. After all, I had dealt with the underbelly of The Nine for years, and that meant I had made deals with demons too. Alex had either been kicked around on the streets as a Disposable or sheltered by The Judas Agency. Below board deals with demons were not in her forte.

  “How do you pay? I mean what could a demon want that ...” Alex tried to work it out in her head, but it wouldn’t quite compute.

  “I think what she means is, a Hellion can get pretty much anything he wants anyway. Why would one want something from you?”

  I already knew the answer, at least in general terms. Dan must have a connection Topside, a way to procure items the Hellion couldn’t acquire otherwise. I worked my shop the same way. Offer something shiny and afterlife could be a whole lot easier.

  Dan’s eyes went up to his patrons again. They still huddled in the middle of the floor even though I could hear that the firestorm was already subsiding. The wall shuddering booms had withered to stuttering bangs.

  “I shouldn’t say, but considering the circumstances ...”

  Dan paused a moment then went on.

  “My business associate has an affinity for clowns. The rarer and creepier, the better. I procure paintings for him in payment for keeping this place up and running.”

  “Clowns?” Alex’s eyebrow shot up in disbelief. “Are you serious?”

  “As a stroke patient,” Dan smiled. “He even has John Wayne Gacy as his personal henchman. Keeps him dressed as Pogo the Clown.”

  I screwed up my face in disgust. “Gacy, the serial killer?”

  Dan nodded. “The very same. Considers Gacy his most prized possession.”

  “Okay, that is sick on so many levels.” Alex shivered.

  Gacy had been convicted of several murders along with having an affinity for luring young boys into his home. He also had a side gig as Pogo the Clown, where he worked charity events and children’s parties, presumably where he scouted out his next victims. He had finally been caught and put to death in the Illinois penal system. A ready-made minion for an evil clown-loving demon if I ever heard of one.

  Alex took another swig of her soda. “So, what happened? Why has anything changed?”

  Dan’s lip curled up in an expression of anger and disgust. “This last delivery was a special request, so I had to convince my Topside contact to steal it from a private collection. Wasn’t easy, but I got the job done.”

  I stared at the unassuming man before me and marveled at the contacts he must have to pull off such a feat. They had to rival my own black-market dealings. I wondered if he even needed my soda supply trick or if he would’ve found a way to get it on his own.

  “I don’t understand,” I said. “If you got the painting, what’s the problem?”

  “Problem is, I don’t have it anymore. Some two-bit thief carried out a smash and grab on my place and took it. If I don’t produce the painting in five days, Gastrith will tear the place apart with his own hands.”

  “Can’t you file for an extension or something? Maybe this, Gastrith, will listen to reason?”

  Dan shook his head. “I think he would get as much pleasure tearing this place apart as seeing his precious painting.”

  “If only there were someone around who could look into the stolen painting for you.” I looked up at the ceiling as if I were trying desperately to come up with an answer. “Two people who work for an agency with significant investigative power.”

  “No, Gabe.” Alex’s eyes shot from me to Dan and back again. “We can’t get involved in this. We have another project to work on, remember?”

  She reached for my wrist, but I managed to pull it out of her reach before she could twist it into some sort of ninja pretzel roll.

  “Come on. You have to admit, it’s nice to have a place to come and hang out. Plus, the locals love it, and it gives Zoe’s rescues some place to work. I promise it won’t take any extra time. At least no time away from your project.”

  That was a lie. If everything worked out the way I wanted it to, we would find the painting, save Dan’s bar, and run out
of time to finish Alex’s train crash all in one fell swoop. I couldn’t ask for anything better.

  “I can’t offer much.” Dan hit her with the puppy dog eyes. “But as long as I’m open, you’ll always have a place to hide from firestorms and bureaucracy, not to mention all the soda you can drink.”

  I gave Alex my best doe eyed expression as well. She caved within seconds.

  “Fine. But this better not interrupt our other mission.” Alex finished off her Dr. Pepper and pushed the glass toward Dan again. “Your list of IOUs is growing. Both of you.”

  I nodded and pushed my glass toward Dan again as well. “Guess you better tell us everything you know about Gastrith and his freak show clown collection.”

  Chapter Five

  The next morning, I made my way up to the cubicle sea of grey personality assassins Alex called an office area. The Judas Agency had spared no expense in laying out a labyrinth of identical cubes the color of depression and suicide. A box of crayons would run for their lives if they ever caught sight of this place.

  The long trek to Alex’s personal work coffin took me several minutes. Somehow, the inner space of the floor seemed to outdo the outer expanse of the building. Searching for her cubicle always took far longer than logic dictated it should. It didn’t help that every wrong turn brought me back to a breakroom full of Kale doughnuts. Even they were a little grey.

  I was just about to give up when a shock of bright blue hair caught my attention.

  “Could you put up some kind of sign or something when you know I’m coming by? Maybe a big, red arrow?” I rounded the corner to Alex’s space and saw her typing away at her computer. “I know it would be against the color code around here, but it would make finding you a whole lot easier in this ocean of office prisons.”

  Alex spun in her chair, meeting me with a smile gleeful enough to make me fall back a step.

  “Stop complaining. At least we’re inside a building and not out with the creepers in Scrapyard City.”