The last wizard

by Simon Hawke

  “Now.,. about the dragons. They could be dangerous. We don’t know how they will respond. They may flee; they may attack. If you encounter them, fire warning shots to scare them off. However, don’t let them get close if you can help it. They are dangerous. And carnivorous. If warning shots won’t work, then drop them. They’re officially an endangered species, but then under these circumstances, so are we. And human lives come first. Remember, your primary responsibility is to immobilize and neutralize everyone on the enclave grounds, male or female, without lethal force, if possible. The key words are, ‘if possible.

  “Chances are we’re going to have casualties. I don’t know if there’s any way we can avoid that. We’ll do our part to try to minimize that possibility. Talon will be the greatest threat, the one most likely to use the hostages as conduits for his power. However, he’s not your concern. Talon is our responsibility. We’re going to do our damnedest to make sure he’s too busy with us to worry about what you’re doing. But if you should encounter any resistance, don’t hesitate to shoot. A magical attack can take place faster than you could believe.

  “Now, we don’t want you to get trigger happy, but then we don’t want you to take any unnecessary chances, either I realize that doesn’t sound very reassuring, but you’ve got one thing working in your favor. You’re not going up against trained troops or seasoned terrorists. These people are civilians. That means they’ll scare a lot more easily. We wan: you to scare them. We don’t want anybody being nice to am of the hostages. We want you to scare them so badly, they won’t have time to think; they’ll just blindly do exactly as they’re told. We can apologize to them later, after we’ve saved their lives. All right, at this point, I’ll turn you over to your mission commander for the final details of the briefing. Good luck to all of you.”

  It was to be a two-pronged assault. The main part of the force would be choppered in directly to the summit while the remainder would be dropped at the base of the mountain to help the police block the highway and secure the road up to the enclave, making sure nobody got in or out. Wyrdrune, Kira, Angelo, and Billy rode in the lead chopper with the ranger colonel, who would command the military part of the mission while the Bureau and ITC agents, likewise dressed in battle fatigues, only with white helmets and white armbands to identify them, would function as individual advisers to the various units.

  As the sun went down behind the mountains, flooding the sky with the brilliant colors that had made Arizona sunsets famous the world over, Operation Dragon Storm was launched. First, various ground units stationed near the area were contacted and ordered to move in to surround the mountain, then the choppers lifted off and flew in formation toward Dragon Peak.

  They left the city far behind and flew over the rural areas of the Sonora Desert, dotted with clusters of homes scattered throughout the Altar Valley. If anyone on the ground looked up and saw the helicopter squadron, they would probably think nothing of it. Military aircraft from the base routinely conducted exercises over the desert and no one would give it a second thought.

  “I’m not thrilled about you people being out of uniform,” Colonel Foster said, as they sat in the lead chopper. The commander of the ranger unit was in his early forties, but he easily looked ten years younger. He was stocky, extremely fit, and no-nonsense army all the way. “I’d be happier if you at least wore helmets and armbands to identify yourselves. The men all saw you, but once things get under way, they’re still liable to confuse you with the people of the enclave, you being in civilian clothes.”

  “There’s little chance of that,” Kira replied. “The members of the enclave all dress in white robes, according to our information.”

  “Besides,” said Wyrdrune, “we’re not going to look like this once things get really started.”

  The colonel gave him a sharp look. It was clear he wasn’t wild about their appearance to begin with, Wyrdrune’s and Billy’s in particular, with their long hair. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he said.

  “Our physical appearance is liable to change,” said Angelo.

  Foster frowned. ‘To what?’

  “To tell you the truth, we’re not quite sure,” said Wyrdrune. “But it’s liable to be pure energy.”

  Foster stared at him. “Are you putting me on?”

  “No, sir, not at all,” said Wyrdrune. He took off his headband. The colonel stared openmouthed at the emerald runestone in his forehead. It was glowing, getting brighter by the moment. “This magic stuff can be a little unpredictable sometimes.”

  “Shit,” said Foster.

  Kira took off her glove. Her sapphire runestone was giving off a bright blue glow. Angelo unbuttoned his shirt. The ruby set into the skin over his heart flared brightly.

  “What the hell?” said Foster.

  “Just be ready for anything, Colonel,” Billy said. “These three are going to change. But don’t worry, I’ll still be me old lovable, handsome self.”

  The pilot of the chopper came on over the colonel’s headset. “Colonel, you better get up here and take a look at this.”

  Foster hurried forward. They were rapidly approaching Dragon Peak. As he looked out through the cockpit bubble, his eyes grew wide at what he saw. “Holy shit!” he said.

  As the chopper squadron approached, shapes were rising up to meet them from all over the mountain. Large, dark shapes… with huge, batlike wings.

  “We were told there were two patients coming in,” said the emergency room nurse, as Wiley’s gurney was wheeled in. “Where’s the second one?”

  The ambulance driver just stared at him, shaking his head. He was supporting the other EMT with an arm around his shoulder. The man looked dazed, exhausted to the point of collapse.

  “What’s the matter with him?” the nurse asked.

  “I don’t know,” the driver said. “I think he’s sick.”

  “But where the hell’s the other patient?”

  The driver moistened his lips. “I was paying attention to the road.”

  “What? I asked you where the other patient was. Come on, snap out of it! What the hell is wrong with you?”

  The driver shook his head again. “All I know is I heard the doors open in back and when I looked in the rearview mirror, I saw the gurney go flying out. I almost swerved right off the road.”

  “Good God!” the nurse said. “Are you telling me the patient fell out into the road? And you didn’t stop?”

  “You don’t understand,” the driver said. “The gurney flew out. It didn’t slide out; it didn’t fall; it fucking flew.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “It flew, I tell you! It just flew away! Floated out the back doors and went zooming off into the sky.”

  “What?”

  The driver pantomimed with his hand, palm down, fingers together and extended, rising up and out in an arcing notion. “Whoosh! Like that.”

  “Are you stoned or something?”

  “Look, I know what I saw.”

  “Christ, I don’t have time for this…”

  “Whoosh! Just like that…”

  Rafe saw it, but he could barely believe it. As he drove up the road leading to the enclave, a dragon stepped out in front of him, about thirty, forty yards away. The creature shuddered, then threw back its head and roared as the wings on its back unfolded and started to grow rapidly right before Rafe’s eyes. They extended and kept on extending, growing larger and larger with astonishing speed, spreading into huge, leathery, batlike wings that dwarfed the roaring creature as it shuddered and spasmed. Then the dragon lowered its head and made convulsive motions with its throat that made Rafe think of a cat about to spit up a hairball.

  Only instead of a hairball, the dragon spat out a gout of flame.

  “Damn!” Rafe said. As he watched through the windshield, the beast flapped its huge, newly sprouted wings and took off like a gigantic hawk. And as he followed its flight, he saw others rising toward a squadron of rapidly approa
ching helicopters. In the distance, flashing lights were coming down the highway, moving fast. A lot of flashing lights. He grinned savagely, then winced with pain. His shirt was red with blood. It looked as if Talon was about to have his hands full. And that was liable to distract him just a bit.

  “Works for me,” said Rafe through gritted teeth. And he continued driving up the road.

  Should’ve canceled the damned dinner, Manly thought. That would have been the prudent thing to do. But the President had disagreed. The lady had guts, he had to give her that. He still couldn’t believe he’d gotten through to her as quickly as he had, but when she found out what it was all about, she got on the phone herself and told him to come right over. Sure, he remembered thinking after he hung up the phone, come right over. To the White House. Just like that.

  After the Secret Service checked him out, he was conducted directly to the Oval Office, at which point he had seriously started to worry. What if he was wrong about this? This was the President, for God’s sake. And he was coming to her with nothing but a hunch. Pete, he thought, you’re going to have your ass handed to you on a platter if you’re wrong about this. They’ll transfer you to Nome, Alaska. Or maybe Guam. Someplace very far away, where he’d have plenty of time to think about what an asshole he had been.

  The President had listened carefully as he laid it all out, her chief of staff standing off to one side, not missing a word. Manly had tried hard to sound as if he knew what he was talking about, like he was sure. But in the end, he knew he’d blown it when the chief of staff said, “That’s it? That’s all you’ve got? And you came to the President with this?”

  “Hold on a minute, Dan,” the President said. “Agent Manly, let me be sure I understand you correctly. You believe that I am going to be this killer’s next intended victim?”

  “Yes, ma’am. “ The chief of staff rolled his eyes.

  “And you believe this because the killer, a necromancer, has systematically killed a businessman, two well-respected Washington attorneys, a lobbyist, and a congressional aide?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “And you believe this constitutes a… ladder of sorts… which the killer is trying to climb in order to reach me?”

  “That’s right, ma’am.”

  “Because you think the killer has followed a chain of well-connected individuals that would lead to someone—a congressman or a senator, perhaps—who would have access to me?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “But you have no real proof of this. You’re basically just following a hunch?”

  Manly saw his entire career spinning away into an abyss. He took a deep breath. What the hell. “Yes, ma’am, that’s correct.”

  “Jesus H. Christ,” said the chief of staff, shaking his head.

  “Okay,” the President said, nodding. “That’s good enough for me.”

  “What?” said the chief of staff, staring at her with disbelief.

  “It took a lot of nerve for him to come here with just a hunch, Dan,” President O’Connor said. “It took someone who has a lot of faith in his instincts. “ She nodded again. “I respect that. And my instinct tells me to go with it. So, Agent Manly, how do you propose to handle this?”

  He had been enormously relieved that things had gone his way, but at the same time, he kept hoping he was wrong, even while knowing that being wrong could cost him his career. He had been inserted into the White House Secret Service detail, as personal guard to the President of the United Sates. He had also learned, to his relief, that a number of adepts had been added to the detail. Still, if he was wrong about this, he was going to be finished. Nevertheless, he kept hoping he was wrong.

  Now he was staring straight at her.

  He knew it was her. He knew it beyond the slightest shadow of a doubt. He could feel it.

  Her emanations were so strong, it felt as if bees were buzzing in his brain. But at the same time, she didn’t seem to be sensing him. Of course, any T-emanations he would project would be infinitesimal compared to hers, unless he was casting a spell. But she was putting them out steadily, all the time. Which fit with something else that had occurred to him. She was much too young to have that kind of power. So it wasn’t really hers. Someone was using her, working through her. She herself probably couldn’t sense anything at all.

  She came on the arm of Senator Jones. And she matched the rough description they had from the doorman. Young, Hispanic, dark, great legs, dynamite body… But he wouldn’t have needed the description, sketchy as it was. He would have known her anywhere. Those emanations were like a signature he’d seen before. And he had.

  She was dressed to the nines in a chic designer original and wore a small and very tasteful diamond necklace with matching earrings and tennis bracelet. Still, for all the elegance of her apparel, Manly thought, she looked like a cheap slut. She simply had no class. She oozed a trashy sort of sexuality, crude and blatant. He saw the other women notice it at once. They greeted her politely, but their body language was unmistakable. He just managed to overhear a soft, woman-to-woman aside from Senator Dane to Congresswoman Gemetta. “My God, where did he find her? She looks like a hooker!”

  Manly caught the eye of one of the Secret Service adepts and gave him a slight nod, indicating the woman with his gaze. The agent caught it at once and gave a barely perceptible nod in return. He whispered softly into his mike. The woman was gushing all over the President’s husband, making heavy eye contact and practically sticking her breasts into his face. Subtle she certainly wasn’t.

  Manly acted to make his move. Only he couldn’t. Not until everyone was clear. It was maddening. He knew she was the one, knew she was a killer, and yet, he could not act on that knowledge without endangering the others.

  There was a tense, hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach. He held his breath. Some of the most powerful people in the country were in this room, including the President of the United States, who was at that very moment being approached by Senator Jones, to introduce his date for the evening. Manly felt as if time were slowing down as the adrenaline triphammered through his system.

  “Madame President,” Senator Jones was saying, “allow me to present Ms. Maria Santoro, of Tucson, Arizona.”

  “Dragons!” said Colonel Foster. “Hell, nobody said the goddamn things could fly!”

  “They’re coming awfully fast, sir,” said the pilot uneasily.

  “Well, so much for the element of surprise,” Foster said. He glanced back over his shoulder. “Hey, did you—Jesus!”

  The cabin of the chopper was filled with brilliant, blinding light. He couldn’t even make out the people sitting back there. All he saw were incandescent beams crisscrossing like a latticework of lasers, red to green, green to blue, blue to red, growing brighter and brighter until he had to cover his eyes. The light formed a swirling vortex in the cabin and shifted, moving out the open helicopter bay doors and into the sky.

  “What the hell is going on back there?” the pilot shouted.

  Foster blinked several times and shook his head. Only Billy Slade remained. The others had all disappeared.

  “It’s your show now, Colonel,” Billy said, coming up beside him. “Give ‘em what for.”

  “Sir… the dragons…” said the pilot.

  “Well, what the hell are you waiting for?” the colonel shouted. “Shoot the sons of bitches! All units open fire!” he spoke into his headset.

  The helicopters opened up on the dragons with machine guns and air-to-air missiles. A number of the creatures were hit at once and those struck by machine gun fire plummeted to the earth like rocks while those hit by the missiles exploded into flaming bursts of blood and viscera. But there were about ten times as many dragons as there were choppers, and as they closed, more dragons were destroyed, but some of them got through.

  Billy saw one chopper explode into a ball of flame as a dragon belched fire and then smashed into it like a kamikaze Zero, killing itself and everyone aboard. So much f
or trying to do this quick and easy, he thought. If they couldn’t get rid of these dragons, they’d never make it to the ground. He ran to the open bay doors and secured himself with a safety line, then concentrated, braced himself, and started throwing bolts of thaumaturgic force at fee creatures as they flocked around the choppers like huge and obscene birds.

  “Get us down!” he yelled to the colonel. “Now or we’ll never make it!”

  “Keep your shorts on, kid,” Foster yelled back. “These things catch us on the ground, we’ve had it! They’re breathing fire, for chrissake!”

  “Bloody hell!” Billy swore. He knew that Wyrdrune, Kira, and Angelo would be no help now. That would be just what Talon wanted. He meant the tactic to delay them and make them use up energy against the dragons. But they had already formed the Living Triangle and they would be going after Talon, who was by far the greater threat. The choppers were on their own. As was he.