I'm on TDY from Hell

by BeamMeUpScotty

  Gerry vaguely remembered the woman. It had been one night of passion before marching off to war. He’d never seen or heard from the woman again.

  “She also had magical blood, and she passed that onto her son. The boy, who proved he was your bastard son, inherited what little was left of your family’s estate after the Revolutionary War. He is considered the progenitor of the Fuller Clan of martial magicians.”

  “Martial magicians?” Gerry hated not knowing what his subordinates were talking about.

 

  “The Salvatore’s are enchanters by blood. Their magic gives specific properties to objects. The Fullers, your descendants, use martial magic. They channel power within themselves to grant them superior strength, speed, and durability. Most martial clans train their offspring from birth to be warriors, and that is true of the Fullers. They are a small but well known family.”

  “Which means the Salvatore’s are more likely to grant me access to information they would normally keep hidden from outsiders.” Gerry followed the thought to conclusion.

  “Yes, Sir. Also, if they engage some sort of truth spell you will not be caught in a lie. You are a Fuller.”

  Gerry couldn’t help but be impressed. “Good work, Jeb. You might be more useful that Vicky after all.”

  The elevator chime ended their conversation, and they both boarded it for the ride down to the lobby. Gerry considered his options and formulated a basic plan.

  “Let me call you a car, Sir.” Jeb pulled out a thin cell phone when they reached the lobby.

  “Do I have a car?”

  “Several, Sir, and a driver on standby twenty-four-seven.”

  “No need for the driver today. I want to drive myself.”

  Jeb, despite his Infernal nature, stumbled at the comment. “Have you ever driven before?”

  “No, but it’s only a couple mile, and I’ve got vivid instruction about how to do it.” Gerry tapped his head and smiled. “But make the car inconspicuous. I don’t want to draw too much attention.”

  The car that pulled up in front of the valet station two minutes later didn’t seem to fit his request. “I said inconspicuous.” He growled under his breath to avoid attention from the passing humans.

  It was a pleasant fall day and everyone was out enjoying the first break from the summer heat.

  “This is the least attention-grabbing car the last Dux owned.” Jeb stated as the vehicle rumbled like a stampede of elephants.

  “Fine.” Gerry sighed as he grabbed the keys from the valet and walked around to the driver’s seat. “No.” He snapped when Jeb tried to open the passenger door. “I’m going alone.”

  The greed demon looked like he wanted to argue, but he’d already tested Gerry’s patience enough this morning. Jeb backed off as he hopped into the latest version of the traditional American muscle car and adjusted the seat.

  He could feel the power of the mechanical creature vibrating through the smooth leather seats. It was a different type of power that he was feeling. This wasn’t Infernal power, or mortal magic, this was technology, mechanical ingenuity, and the power of mankind’s imagination.

  He looked in the mirror to make sure traffic was clear, shifted into drive, and hit the gas.

  The car roared like a charging lion and nearly leapt into the air as it surged forward. People screamed and jumped out of the way as he hurtled down the semi-busy street. If it wasn’t for his lightening quick reflexes he would have plowed into the back of a car or run over an innocent pedestrian. That was attention he didn’t want, so after avoiding a few near fatal collisions he let his foot off the gas and coasted into a comfortable cruise with the flow of traffic.

  There were several thing he wanted to do to the woman in this car, but before he could think about them he’d arrived at his destination.

  The small lot next to the set of stores was full except for the handicap parking spot. He pulled right into it without hesitation, turned off the purring beast, and stepped out of the car. There was a slight smell of burned rubber in the air, but everything still smelled fresh and alive. It was nothing like Hell.

  The Salvatore’s tailor shop was small. Only one room lined with suits, pants, vest, belts, and shoes. It would have looked like any other tailor shop if not for the men pretending to browse the selection. Gerry could sense their attention was on him and not the fine Armani suits. Plus, there was a slight bulge in several waistbands that didn’t look like years of eating too much lasagna.

  “May I help you?” An older man wearing an exquisite three-piece suit and measuring tape around his neck greeted Gerry a few seconds after the bell above the door jingled his arrival.

  “I’m just passing through,” he gave the armed goons a sideways glance. “I was told to look up the Salvatore Family if I was in town and in need of some enchantments.”

  “I’m sorry,” the man looked convincingly confused. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

  Gerry could taste the lie in the air the second it left the man’s lips, and he just smiled.

  “You’re enchanters and the big magical players in town.” He ignored the old man’s denial. “My name’s Gerald, Gerald Fuller.”

  The men around the room tensed and a few hands drifter toward weapons.

  Gerry kept the smile on his face while planning the quickest path to ripping out the goon’s spines.

  “Of the Boston Fullers?”

  “Yeah, I’m from Boston.”

  It took some effort to keep his smile from widening further.

  “Well.” The man motioned for his associates to relax. “I am honored to have a Fuller in my modest little shop. What can I do for you?”

  “What do you have?”

  “What mission are you on?”

  Gerry had to choose his words carefully in case there was some sort of enchantment to detect lies.

  “I know there are vampires in town.” He used the pop culture term for the Soulless. “What do you have that is effective against them?”

  “Surely your family’s prowess is more than a match for one of the undead.”

  “Surely.” Gerry was beginning to grow annoyed with this old man. “But only a fool goes into a fight expecting to win. A real warrior stacks the odds in their favor.”

  It was true. Only an idiot went into a fight sure they would win. The moment you lowered your guard was when your enemy took your head.

  “Of course.” The Salvatore’s tone was only mildly apologetic. “We have dealt with some of these undead, and while we don’t have your skill we have our own tricks.” He inclined his head toward the side of the shop where the biggest goon stood guard.

  He pushed on the edge of a display case, and the wall sprung outward with a click. The man pulled it open and led the way into a second room just as big as the entire tailor shop. Gerry stepped up to the entrance and felt resistance.

  The air seemed to harden in front of him. It wasn’t hostile, but it clearly was warry of him.

  It wasn’t too hard to figure out.

  Gerry had two options. He could barrel in, tear through the weak defenses, and reveal he was something more than he appeared. Or he could play nice and get more information.

  “Do you mind?” He stood their patiently.

  “Yes I do.” The Salvatore’s smile made Gerry want to check the guard to make sure he didn’t have his pistol out and pointed at the base of his skull. Getting shot would still hurt. “I’ve got a few options for you.” He opened containers next to the door. “Exploding stakes. They’ll take out a chuck of undead flesh and stop it from regrowing for several hours. Bottled sunlight. It makes them just as vulnerable as if they took a walk in the park at noon. Those are our two biggest sellers.”

  “You must sell a lot.�
�� Gerry inquired while peering around the room.

  “Enough.” The man replied noncommittally.

  “If you’re looking for something defensive we can always get you a coat.” The old man pointed at a pair of leather dusters and a sheepskin coat in the corner. I can make the fabric as hard as steel and as light as a feather.”

  “I like it. How much?”

  “For what?”

  “For all of it?”

  If there was some type of truth enchantment then the man knew Gerry wasn’t lying.

  “A hundred a stake, five hundred a bottle, and ten grand for a coat.” The man couldn’t hide his wide eyes from Gerry.

  “Give me all of it. Do you take debit?”

  The man nodded and barked an order in Italian to his goons. One guy went to the cash register and rang up the total while another went to help the old man with all the supplies. It came to eighteen grand when it was all tallied up, and they waited to bring it out of the room in a big trunk until after Gerry had paid.

  “I’ll take the sheepskin.” He informed when the man grabbed one of the two dusters.

  The man smiled. “Your business is greatly appreciated, Mr. Fuller.”

  Apparently, the way to get the guy to let down his guard was to spend a shit ton of money on his products.

  “Thank you for the supplies, Sir.” He easily hoisted the trunk up and brought it out to the car.

  There was an orange slip underneath the windshield that he crumpled up and threw into the back seat.

  “Mr. Fuller.” The elder Salvatore stepped out after his goons made a human shield down either side of the street. “If you are interested a few concerned members of our community are gathering this evening to discuss certain threats. Since your purchase indicated we might have mutual interests I would like to extend an invitation to you.”

  “That’s very kind.” Gerry smiled.

  He couldn’t help but think about the irony of the man whose arms he was eventually going to tear out of their sockets inviting him to his secret anti-vampire meeting.

  “Just let me know the time and the place.”

  The old man slipped him a business card with a time and address written on the back before heading back inside with his minions in tow.

  He considered his recon mission a complete success.

  The Resistance

  “You’re what!?” Vicky shrieked that evening in the demesne.

  Everyone was standing around the rich mahogany table and staring at the tactical layout of the city’s warring factions.

  “I don’t think I stuttered.” Gerry looked at his other lieutenants. “Did I?”

  “No, Dux.” Jezebel, the sex demon, answered in her default sultry but sweet tone.

  “Find something big and black and shove it down your throat.” Vicky snapped back, her fangs fully extended.

  “Ladies.” Gerry brought the fight to an end while raising a hand. “This isn’t up for discussion.”

  “Sir.” Vicky’s voice went from heated to pleading. “You’re going to a meeting of people who are trying to kill my family. I think I have a right to be a little pissed off.”

  Gerry rubbed his eyes in exasperation. “Vicky, I’m going for information gathering purposes. I’m not going to hunt down one of your coven and cut their head off.”

  “If that was this group’s plan for the night would you?”

  “Absolutely.” Gerry answered without hesitation. “If one of your people has to sacrifice themselves so we can gain the information needed to root out this resistance to us then it’s a risk worth taking.”

  Veins started to bulge in Vicky’s neck as she struggled to contain herself.

  “But I don’t think that’s going to happen.” He tried to put her at ease. “I don’t even think the Soulless are the main topic at tonight’s meeting. If anything, it seems to be a general assemble of the locals to go over routine matters, settle disputes, and generally interact with each other in a non-threatening environment.”

  Gerry had gotten all that information from one of the elder Salvatore’s minions. After he’d left the tailor, he waited around for one of the trusted goons to leave. Then Gerry got him alone and extracted every drop of useful information. Channeling the æther to read the man’s mind, influence his emotions, and then erase the memory of the encounter was well worth the expenditure of power. He’d even imbedded a “last case scenario” code into the man’s brain to be used when Gerry saw fit.

  If Gerry hadn’t known it before he knew it now. Being a Dux was awesome.

  “So I am going to do this, and that’s final. What we need is a contingency plan if things go south.” Gerry pointed back to the three dimensional city rising out of the tabletop.

  “I still feel it is unwise for you to put yourself in such a vulnerable position while you are still…acclimating to your territory.” Jeb had almost said “weak” but stopped himself.

  “With risk comes reward.” Gerry swatted aside the argument while continuing to study the map. “The location of the meeting is here.” He pointed at one of the white spots on the map.

  “In a sanctuary of the Divine, my Dux. That alone is enough reason to reconsider.” Jeb tried again to get Gerry to change his mind.

  “All the more reason.” He felt a jolt of adrenaline.

  It had been a long time since Gerry had truly tested himself. The battles on the boarders against Cain and Beelzebub’s legions had been challenging, but this was a whole new level. Going up against one of the Divine was next level.

  He took a deep breath and checked himself. Overconfidence was one of the quickest ways to lose your head.

  Vicky shook her head, Jezebel’s face was a mask of barely contained sexual energy, and big Lono looked perpetually hungry. It was a motley group, but it would have to do.

  “I want each of you to provide me with two of your best fighters.” The request got barely contained grumbles.

  It was evident that the lieutenants didn’t like working together, sharing resources, or even being in the same room with each other. Unfortunately, working together was the only way they were going to accomplish their mission and get Prince Seere what he deserved.

  “The meeting starts at eight. I want your people here at seven.” He poked a structure a block away from the sanctuary, but with a good overwatch position.

  It swirled like grains of sand blowing in the wind and reconstituted itself to show an enlarged view of the building.

  “Put two on the roof with high-powered rifles, another two in the lobby for rapid response if needed. Any of your people have ranged abilities?” Gerry didn’t know what Lono and Jezebel’s minions could do.

  “I will supply the shooters,” Jeb informed. “I have a lucrative partnership in several mercenary firms. I can have two capable operators here in an hour.”

  “I will supply the fighters.” Jezebel and Vicky echoed each other, and then went back to glaring.

  “Jezebel will provide the fighters,” Gerry decided. “This meeting is at least partially about dealing with you and your people, Vicky. So it would be best if there wasn’t any of them right outside to draw suspicion.”

  “Then what do you want me to do?” Vicky crossed her arms beneath her breasts.

  “I know you have the ability to compel people,” Gerry stated.

  Vicky’s eyes widened in surprise. Apparently, she thought she’d been playing that one pretty close to her well-formed chest.

  “It wasn’t hard to figure out, and I want you to use that to indirectly influence the evening.” Gerry smiled like an alligator that was about to eat one of its young. “Compel bums, school children, couples on vacation from Milwaukee, or whoever you can find. I want at least a dozen people hovering in the area who will throw themselves into the line of fire to protect our retreat if we need them too.

  Vicky’s face paled a little at having to compel a dozen people, but she nodded. She knew her contribution
would be the one that really made people hesitate if things got to the point of violence.

  “Lono, I want you to have safe houses ready for our people if we need them. I know you have a couple restaurants in the area. Shut them down early, pay the staff overtime, or do whatever else you need to do to get them ready to shelter us during a fighting retreat.”

  Lono nodded, his triple chin jiggling in the process.

  Gerry checked his watch. It was five-thirty. “Get to work. It’s almost time to figure out just what this city can throw against us.”

  An hour and a half later Gerry stood in the lobby of an apartment building a block away from the church where the meeting was taking place. Six people stood with him. Two had the rough and ragged look of soldiers, except for the longer hair and the beards. It reminded Gerry of the legion he’d left behind.

  “You two, roof.” Was all he had to say before the men hurried up the several flights of stairs. They didn’t bother with the elevator.

  Next he turned to Lono’s two fighters. They didn’t look like fighters. They looked more like two useless meatbags. They were big like their master, but their eyes were vacant and they spent eighty percent of their time around him shoveling something into their mouth. Honestly, it was pure genius on Lono’s part. The pair screamed non-threatening.

  Or it was pure stupidity, and Gerry would have to rip out the gluttonous demons tongue when he finished.

  The last two soldiers sent by Jezebel were two little sex pistols that would fit in on any corner in the city, which was exactly what he was going to do. Their short skirts and tight shirt showing enough midriff to make a man salivate would draw eyes for all the wrong reasons.

  “Go.” He told the four demonic creations known as imps.

  When Gerry had searched imps on the internet before he’d only seen pictures of stubby, red, fat creatures with pitchforks, horns, and tails. That couldn’t be further from the truth.

  The most common imps were humans transformed by Infernal blood and enslaves to the demon that sired them. But imps could be born of an infernal womb or by infernal seed. That distinction created two classes of infernal minions. The first was lower in the hierarchy. They were simply transformed into their semi-infernal state. The second was born into their infernal class, which on earth was right below the demons themselves.