The Magekiller

by Orlando A. Sanchez

  “Are you certain the collision didn’t cause head trauma?”

  “I swear I’m getting you reprogrammed the moment this insanity is over with.”

  “If you do, you’ll miss me and regret it,” Cait said with an extra dose of cybersexy in her voice. “What would you do without me?”

  “Deal with less attitude in my life,” I answered, nudging the Duster to scrape the Coffin on my right, forcing them into the stone wall on the far right. “Are you keeping track of those RPG’s?”

  “Yes,” Cait answered. “The vehicle on your left is preparing an RPG.”

  I didn’t hold the illusion that they would both fire simultaneously, and I would evade two grenades, causing them to fire at each other. My life was insane, but it wasn’t a movie. No. I was counting on one of them firing their RPG in anger and frustration. I figured it would be whoever I upset the most.

  “Ronin,” Cait said, and I recognized the tone as the ‘we are truly screwed beyond belief’ tone of voice. This tone is followed immediately by the ‘how have you managed to stay alive so long?’ tone. “You have incoming.”

  ELEVEN

  RPG’s don’t travel in a straight line.

  They also have a tendency to bounce before detonation, especially if the target is moving at high velocity. This meant a few seconds of delay before the world shredding explosion headed our way.

  I smashed into the right Coffin and slammed into the left as they released grenades in my direction. The grenades exploded behind us, answered by gunfire. I looked in the rear-view mirror and saw the trio of TAC Ops vans behind us.

  “Cait, we have trouble.”

  “You mean besides the two vehicles you’ve collided with, and the several grenades they’ve launched at us?”

  “Tac Ops behind us.”

  “How would they know to arrive on the scene unless someone alerted them?” Cait asked, as the pieces started to connect.

  “They wouldn’t unless—”

  “This is a trap,” Cait finished. “Not just for the Widows, but for you.”

  “That would mean that Jude called the Tac Ops,” I said, insulted. “I trained that little shit.”

  “You said it yourself,” Cait replied. “Only the Director and Luca know about your status. Everyone else in Division 13 considers you rogue. For all he knows, you orchestrated this attack.”

  “I trained him.”

  “And what would you do in his position?”

  “The same exact thing, maybe,” I answered. “But I would at least find out if I was really rogue.”

  “It’s possible he views your capture as a means of advancement. You have to admit, capturing a rogue operative is impressive.”

  “I’m going to advance my foot so far up his ass—”

  “You can’t compromise your position,” Cait warned. “If Tigris sees that Division 13 is actually trying to apprehend you…”

  “Then Delilah may think I’m really rogue,” I said. “I’m hating your idea right now.”

  “But you know I’m right. You have to save Jude and allow one of the Widow’s vehicles to escape, all while fighting off the Tac Ops reinforcements.”

  “When you put it like that, it doesn’t sound hard at all. Maybe I could perform some brain surgery at the same time?”

  “Would you like to confirm your theory?” Cait asked.

  “Yes. Call Jude.”

  “If you surrender, I promise they will take you into custody, sir.”

  “You little shit,” I said, keeping my voice calm. “I trained you. This is how you repay my extensive elite training?”

  “Yes,” Jude said, entering wikioperative mode. “If a Division 13 operative abrogates his responsibilities and is designated rogue, all privileges and protections are rescinded and no longer in effect.”

  “I know the rules & regs, padawan.”

  “Said operative is to be treated as a level 1 threat and apprehended on sight,” he continued, ignoring me. “If resistance is encountered, the use of deadly force is authorized.”

  “I didn’t teach you that,” I said, mildly impressed. “At least, I don’t remember teaching you that.”

  “You did,” Jude replied. “When you tried to bring in Delilah, you were doing exactly what I’m doing now. Are you ready to surrender, sir? I really don’t want to shoot you, but the Tac Ops behind you won’t mind at all.”

  I had to admit it was a good play. He knew me well enough to use himself as bait. Dammit, maybe I was getting too old for this. Jude certainly read and anticipated my move.

  “Are there even Widows in those Coffins?” I asked. “Or are they smoke and mirrors?”

  “The Coffins are real,” Jude said. “Everyone else is D13.”

  Now, I was truly impressed. He knew Cait couldn’t deepscan the interior of the Coffins except to ascertain energy signatures. My guess is he had Widows somewhere in the rear compartments to give a positive reading.

  “You have Widows in the Coffins helping you,” I said, realizing the truth. “What did you promise them?”

  “Leniency, and not being shipped to Sheol if they helped us apprehend you,” he said. “We have several of the Widows in custody.”

  “And if they refused?”

  “Extermination,” Jude said, his voice hard. “I’d say your training methodology was effective, wouldn’t you?”

  “Too effective, it seems,” I said. “I picked up Widow signatures in the Coffins.”

  “The Widows have been active for a few days. We apprehended these three vehicles, and had Reese duplicate their energy signatures enough to fool your brace.”

  “I have to admit, this was a solid plan,” I said with a hint of approval. I wanted him to feel good about the work he put in. “Did you run this by Luca?”

  “No need,” he answered. “You’ve been designated rogue. We have to bring you in.”

  “Right,” I said. “You do realize what kind of car I’m driving?”

  “Irrelevant, sir. SuNaTran vehicles do not have flight capabilities. You are trapped, sir.”

  “Blocked, not trapped. There’s a difference.”

  “Surrender, sir.”

  “You still have a few more lessons left, padawan.”

  “Not from you,” Jude said. “We have every exit covered.”

  “When you get older, you’ll understand that even though I trained you, I didn’t teach you everything.”

  “Give it up, Ronin,” Jude said. “There’s nowhere left to go. Once you got on, we sealed the FDR. Just stop the car and come with me. What do you say?”

  I hung up the call.

  The Coffins next to me started closing in, as gunfire erupted from the vans behind us.

  “I thought this was a rescue,” I said. “Seems like I may have slightly miscalculated.”

  “At least he wants to take you alive…for now,” Cait replied. “A rogue operative is a serious threat, as Delilah has proven. They want you stopped before Tigris can turn you, it seems.”

  “While mages are being killed in the streets. Talk about myopic.”

  I remembered the speech I gave Grey about Night Wardens being short-sighted, and realized the irony of my situation.

  “The priority seems to be your capture.”

  “They haven’t caught me yet,” I said, swerving away from the Coffins. “I need options, Cait.”

  “Lethal or non?”

  “Non-lethal,” I said with a grunt, as a Coffin slammed into the Duster. “These operatives think they are stopping a rogue.”

  “Continued interaction will result in fatalities, theirs or yours. The only way to make this a non-lethal confrontation is to remove them—”

  “Or myself from the equation.”

  I primed the teleport.

  “Are you sure you want to use that option?”

  “I’m not hearing any ideas from my techbrace. I hate teleportation, but it seems to be the best non-lethal option.”

  “What location is it keyed to?�
��

  “Cecil said it will target the closest, strongest neutral zone,” I said, slowing down the Duster with the Coffins keeping pace. “Think you can provide that information?”

  “One moment,” Cait answered. “I’m checking recent databases.”

  I stopped the Duster.

  “This is one of those ‘faster is better’ moments.”

  “If I had access to the D13 database I would be operating at optimal levels, as such I’ve had to use circuitous routes to avoid detection.”

  “Detection isn’t much of an issue right now,” I snapped. “Besides, I don’t recall there being a neutral zone this far up on the East side.”

  Behind me, the Tac Ops vans closed off any retreat. The two Coffins blocked the road ahead. I saw Jude exit his vehicle. He drew his weapon. I looked around, and noticed we were on the FDR and 111th Street, near Thomas Jefferson Park.

  “Exit your vehicle now, Ronin!” he yelled, pointing his standard issue S&W SD9. “Drop your weapons on the ground!”

  “Cait,” I said, keeping my eyes on Jude. “Padawan is looking agitated. It’s time to go, before he decides taking me in alive is too much of a hassle.”

  “Triangulating positions,” Cait said. “Data search nearly complete.”

  I saw one of the D13 Coffin drivers hand Jude a large tube. It glowed a soft orange as he lifted it to a shoulder and aimed at the Duster.

  “That looks surprisingly like a rocket launcher,” I said, warily. “A rune-covered rocket launcher.”

  “Last chance, Ronin! Exit the vehicle, now!”

  “Out of time,” I said under my breath, as the small glowing rocket screamed its way at me. “Time to go.”

  “The closest neutral zone is—”

  I pressed the teleport, the interior of the Duster flashed green, and the world disappeared.

  TWELVE

  Teleportation is one of the fastest ways of travel. It’s also one of the worst.

  Being a technomancer means I can manipulate technology and have an affinity for hi-tech devices, like Cait. It doesn’t mean I wield magic of any sort. I don’t form orbs of magic, or throw around tech bombs. Why bother when bullets are faster?

  Technomancy is a misunderstood hybrid of magic and technology. I figured Technomancers were considered rare because we interacted mostly with machines. Most of the gifted hackers I knew were Technomancers of some sort, they just didn’t know it. Reese and his acquaintance, the Hack, certainly fell into this category. Breaking into a techbrace required more than just knowledge. Each techbrace contained runic defenses designed to prevent unwanted access.

  The really skilled and gifted Technomancers had an affinity for machines and mechanical devices that allowed them to push machines past their limits and capacities. Wizards disliked us because of the level of study required, and mages thought we were too similar to wizards because we used our braces to focus our abilities.

  Some magic-users were notorious for not being able to use anything electrical without eventually destroying it. A wizard in Chicago was infamous for his ability to destroy most modern tech, sometimes with just his presence. He carried some kind of technological entropy field around him.

  Technomancers were at the other end of that spectrum. We were able to make machines do things most would consider impossible. Could I do the things I did without my techbrace? Yes, but Cait allowed me to refine and focus my abilities. Without it, the results could be wild and unpredictable.

  This meant that even though I could use a teleportation device or circle, unlike most magic-users, I wasn’t immune to the side effects. In a nutshell, teleportation equaled agonizing pain.

  When I could see again, I realized I stood in a cool, dark, stone underground hallway. I could see dimly lit alcoves, every two to three meters along the length of the hallway. A second later, the floor tilted sideways as I doubled over in agony. I held onto the wall as my intestines threatened to forcefully exit my body.

  “Forgot…how…much…fun…that was,” I said, groaning as my stomach spasmed against the temporal effects of moving through space and time instantly.

  “You wanted to use the teleport option,” Cait said.

  “There was the small issue about the glowing rocket headed our way,” I answered, clenching my jaw against the pain. “Which, considering these side-effects, doesn’t seem like such a bad option at the moment.”

  “You know you’re susceptible to the side-effects of teleportation,” she said, releasing a medkit into my system.

  “Know them and feeling them right now,” I said through another groan. “Where…where are we?”

  “Underground at the moment,” she said.

  “Underground? Really?” I asked. “What gave it away? The stone everything, or the fact that these seem like burial tombs?”

  “Let me access the data. One moment.”

  “No rush,” I said, wiping the sweat from my brow. “It’s not like anyone is out to kill me or anything. Take your time.”

  I took in the location, and realized I was in some kind of mausoleum, a large one. The teleport was supposed to send me to one of the closest neutral zones. This had to be one of the old, unused neutral zones near 111th Street.

  “The use of sarcasm as a coping mechanism is well documented. The fact that you are compelled to employ your misplaced sense of humor is a clear indicator that you feel fear in regards to your current surroundings.”

  “Thank you Dr. McCoy,” I said, ignoring her prognosis. “These ‘current surroundings’ don’t appear like any neutral zone I know. What are these, tombs? Since when are tombs considered a neutral zone?”

  “It would appear we are beneath theBasilica of St. Patricks Old Cathedral, at the entrance of the catacombs,” Cait said, with a hint of surprise. “This is some distance from our origin point.”

  “No, sh—” I started, then remembered most deities take offense to profanity in their places of worship, even beneath them. “How did we get down here? The teleport should have placed us uptown somewhere.”

  “It would appear our teleport was intercepted.”

  “Intercepted?” I asked. “Do you know the level of accuracy required to intercept a teleport?”

  “I do,” said the familiar voice behind me. “Honor mentioned you wanted to see me?”

  “I did,” I said, turning around slowly, making no sudden moves. “Preferably when my insides weren’t trying to escape my body. Hello, TK.”

  She was dressed in her usual black with highlights of black, this time opting for something close to casual combat couture. I could see the faint red runes in her clothing pulsing with energy as she approached. The power emanating from her permeated the air and the stone. Green energy left soft trails of light floating around her body.

  Catacombs—the second entrance to Fordey. It made sense now. What didn’t make sense was how she knew to pull me here now.

  “I was just on my way to see you,” I said weakly, as my stomach did a few somersaults before settling down. “How did you—?”

  “Your techbrace leaves a trail. Minute, but real nevertheless,” TK said, pointing at Cait. “We don’t like being tracked…I don’t like being tracked. I was going to pull you earlier at City Hall, but this worked out conveniently.”

  “You have no idea.”

  “Don’t I?” she said with a look. “Division 13 will be searching the wreckage for a short time before they realize you weren’t scattered all over the FDR along with what’s left of your vehicle. Cecil, on the other hand, will give you a right ‘ear-bashing’ as he likes to call it, for letting his vehicle be turned to scrap.”

  “It wasn’t my fault,” I said. “There were extenuating circumstances.”

  “That sounds familiar,” she said with a tight smile, then grew serious. “You have thirty seconds to explain why you tracked Fordey.”

  THIRTEEN

  I realized her thirty-second ultimatum was not a suggestion.

  “I need the summoner of the
Tenebrous,” I said quickly, with a wince, leaning against the cool, stone wall. “Dead mages, most of them from the homeless population, are disappearing all over the city.”

  “I’m aware,” she said, staring at me. “What do you intend to do once you have this information? Confront this ‘summoner’ with what—bullets and a blade?”

  “Something like that,” I said. “The Warden is dealing with the creature. I need to stop the source.”

  She gestured, and a small green orb gently floated from her fingers over to where I stood. When it got close, it spread into a lattice of green energy and fell on my body. I immediately felt better.

  “Why you?”

  “Excuse me?” I asked. “What do you mean why me?”

  “I thought I was being clear. Did you suffer head trauma? Why do you need to stop the source?”

  “Mages…dead. Lots of them on the streets? Did I not mention that?”

  “You did,” she said with a smile that chilled my blood, warning me to check the snarkasm. “My question is, why do you think you are capable of stopping what is evidently an accomplished dark mage or sorceress.”

  “This is somehow tied to the new strain of Redrum and Tigris.”

  “Let the Night Warden deal with this. This seems a little beneath your purview. Isn’t Division 13 big picture? Focus on the macro?”

  “It’s exactly that. Division 13 can only see the large canvas, not realizing that what’s happening on the street is just as, if not more, important. Besides, Tigris is big picture.”

  “You still haven’t answered my question. Why you?”

  “Because I can make a difference. I can stop the summoner.”

  She narrowed her eyes at me for a few seconds.

  “You’re currently holding a weapon capable of using negation rounds, which won’t work, by the way, and a runed short blade,” she said, matter-of-fact. “Are you carrying any other weaponry?”

  I shook my head. “Not at the moment, no,” I said. “I mean, besides my dizzying intellect.”