She laughed, but I could tell she was still nervous and concerned. “Okay, Knight, I’ll see you at the command post soon.”
I was about to hang up when something occurred to me. “Sam, do you have an update on the River Bottom situation with Stone’s snipers?”
“I put Dia on it.” Dia Robinson was one of my lead ANC regulators, whom I trusted as much as I did Dulcie.
“If Dia’s on it, the River Bottom mission is in good hands,” I said. As it was no longer in my hands, I wasn’t going to worry about it. Besides, I had plenty to worry about where Dulcie was concerned. I hung up and took a deep breath as I pulled into the Warehouse District of Splendor. It was a run-down area that used to house quite a few large-scale manufacturing businesses. Now, it was basically vacant, the businesses having gone belly-up over the years. All that was left were the hollowed-out remains of buildings and weeds growing up through holes in the asphalt where once parking lots reigned supreme. The crumbled facades peered out at Bentley Street, dotted with debris—trash and stray pieces of mortar from the condemned edifices surrounding it.
Once I hit Third Street, I noticed that it was cordoned off by yellow traffic cones, which meant my guys had already checked the perimeter of the area and roped it off to ensure no passersby had access. I immediately recognized three of our patrol vehicles, which were parked in a lot just northwest of me. I pulled into the bumpy lot, easing the Denali into a spot beside one of the patrol cars. The building in which my guys had set up the command post was covered in spray-paint tagging and basically had the look of something used and abused. There was a roll-up metal door that was halfway open and displayed an old, unclaimed sleeping bag, along with a few pots and pans that had, no doubt, belonged to a vagrant at some point.
I parked the Denali and killed the engine, opening the door as I watched a few of my men emerging from the command post. I jumped down from my seat as I reached for my Op 7, which I kept in the center console. Pushing the gun, which most resembled a 9 mm Glock, into the waistband of my jeans, I was ready to rock and roll.
“So, what’s the situation?” I asked as soon as I recognized Henderson.
He took a deep breath and shrugged. “We’ve blocked off all entrances and exits to Bentley and Fifth Streets. I was going to put someone on top of redirecting any traffic, but so far, you’re the only other person we’ve encountered since being here.”
“Good,” I said.
Henderson nodded. “We wanted to take every precaution, so with Sam’s help, we’ve been able to ensure the privacy of the area by witchcraft.”
“Sounds good to me,” I answered as Henderson escorted me under the roll-up door and I was greeted with another ten of my officers. “What are we looking at?” I asked.
Gomez, a short and narrow Hispanic man in his early thirties, stepped forward. “We don’t know much yet. They’re definitely in the building, and we’ve been very careful not to reveal our position. As far as the building where they’re hiding out, it has one entrance door in the front and one in the rear. There is a series of three windows on the west side of the building, fronting Fifth Street. Those windows are completely boarded up, though, so as far as getting in or out, we just have the front and back doors.”
I nodded, digesting the information. “Do you have officers surrounding the building now?” I asked.
Gomez nodded. “Yes, and so far, no one has come out.”
I nodded. “So we know that Ibahn, Angus, and Dolores are all in the building with Dulcie,” I continued. “Does anyone have a cell phone number for any of them?”
The response was a sea of blank faces. I frowned. “All right, so we’re going to have to do this over the loudspeaker then,” I said.
“Dulcie might have her phone on her,” Sam offered, and I nodded, hoping such was the case.
Turning to step number two, I glanced at every one of my officers. “We’re going to attempt negotiating first,” I said, facing the line of various Netherworld creatures before me. “I want each of you to cover the building as best you can when I walk up to it. Got it?”
They all nodded and before I knew it, we were headed back onto Bentley Street, with the exception of Sam, who waited behind at command post. As a witch, she wasn’t trained in combat, so I wanted to keep her out of harm’s way.
Fifth Street was two more streets north, so my ANC officers and I started on foot. Sidling along the walls of the various buildings along Bentley Street, I held my Op 7 in a low, ready stance. When I reached Fourth Street, I was careful to take stock of my surroundings before I left the cover of the building behind me and ran across the street, uncomfortable that I was completely out and in the open. As soon as I made it across the street, I beelined for the shadowed cover of a building nearby, the facade of which was crumbling, ostensibly with age.
One street down, one more to go.
I could see the corner of Fifth Street straight up ahead, where Bentley Street intersected it. The building on the corner, presumably where Dulcie was being held hostage, was a one-story box of a place. It looked like maybe it had been a very small grocery store in its day, but now it stood in squalor, the paint peeling off the walls. I could see my guys surrounding the building, their sniper rifles aimed and ready.
I reached for the “loudspeaker” tucked into my back pocket. It was really just a karaoke microphone that Sam bewitched. Sam’s magic enabled the microphone to transport my voice a much greater distance than it otherwise could.
Taking my position across the street from the building, I was far enough away that I wouldn’t be an easy target, should someone inside be alerted to our arrival. I was still close enough, though, that the bewitched microphone would easily convey my voice the two hundred or so feet. I lifted the thing to my mouth and prayed this whole situation would go over well.
“This is Knightley Vander, head of the ANC Headquarters in Splendor,” I called out, my voice unwavering. “I want you to know we have the entire building surrounded.” I took a deep breath and swallowed down any feelings of misgiving. “If Dulcie has her cell phone with her, I’d like to use that to talk with you.”
There wasn’t a response, but I figured I’d try calling Dulcie’s cell phone anyway, just to see if someone might take the bait and answer it. I pulled my cell phone from my pocket and speed-dialed her ANC-provided mobile phone. It rang three times before someone picked up.
“Knight?” It was Dulcie.
“Are you okay?” I asked, feeling the aching in my stomach suddenly dissolving as soon as I heard her voice. At that moment, I realized how completely worried about her I was, and how destroyed I would be if anything ever happened to her.
“I’m fine,” she said, sounding irritated. “Ibahn wants me to tell you that he isn’t interested in speaking with you directly, so I’m going to be your point of contact.”
She sounded completely at ease, almost unconcerned about her predicament. Her mentioning Ibahn’s name wasn’t by chance. She did so because she wanted me to know whom I was up against. “Tell Ibahn I’ve been in conversation with his brother, and Angel is calling the whole thing off. I know Ibahn, Angus, and Dolores are in there with you, and I’ve got the entire ANC staff waiting for the go-ahead to torch the place,” I said.
I was patient as Dulcie relayed the information. There was silence on the line for a little while longer before I heard the sound of the phone being passed to someone else and heavy breathing ensued.
“How the hell have you been in touch with my brother?” Ibahn demanded.
“Call it one of my Loki abilities,” I spat back. “He wanted me to extend his apologies for selling you out.”
“I don’t believe you!” Ibahn railed, his tone belying his claim not to believe me.
“How else would I know where you are?” I insisted, but when there wasn’t a response, I continued. “So you have two options, Ibahn. We can either do this the easy way or the hard way. The easy way involves all of you coming out of the front door with yo
ur hands in the air, at which time you’ll be cuffed and arrested. The hard way means we take no prisoners.” I inhaled. “It’s your choice.”
“Screw yourself, Vander!” Ibahn yelled into the phone, and seconds later, the dial tone sounded.
Assuming Ibahn chose the hard way, I turned around to face Gomez and nodded, giving him the signal, which meant he needed to rally some of our guys to create a distraction while the rest of us broke into the building. Remembering Gomez’s saying there were both front and back doors, I pointed toward the rear of the building, intimating that he should stage his distraction there. He nodded and directed four of our guys toward the back of the building while he, Henderson, Bridges, Sanderson, Havanna, and I started for the front.
When we reached the front door, I could hear the guys in the rear already hammering the door with a battering ram. The sound was incredibly loud and would serve as a useful distraction. I glanced over at Gomez, who handed me an enchanted key, which I immediately inserted into the lock on the door. Enchanted keys have hexes put on them, allowing them to unlock anything they’re inserted into.
I had to wiggle the key in the lock a bit before I felt it cement itself in place, and I pulled my hand away. I watched the magic burst into a miniature fireworks display of golden flecks as the key turned itself to the right and made a clicking sound. I rotated the doorknob and pushed on it, opening the door just like that.
Holding my Op 7 in ready stance, I sidled along the entry wall until I recognized three figures standing in the desolate room before me. Dulcie was in the middle, between Ibahn and Angus. Angus was standing maybe a foot or so from Dulcie, but Ibahn was right behind her, his gun aimed at her head. Angus was facing the rear door, and Ibahn had been in the process of turning from the rear door to the front door when we burst in.
What happened next seemed to move in slow motion. At the same moment that Dulcie recognized me, someone took a shot at Angus, nailing him right in the head. He fell over instantly. I immediately got Ibahn’s head in the line of my Op 7. Realizing what I was about to do, Dulcie attempted to drop herself to the floor to give me a much clearer shot. But Ibahn, realizing what she was trying to do, tightened his hold around her middle. As soon as she made her move, though, I squeezed off the shot. Even though I was aiming for his forehead, my bullet nailed Ibahn in the middle of the throat.
The impact of the bullet sent Ibahn flying off his feet, where he landed against the ground in a heap of dead Yeti. Dulcie glanced behind herself at Ibahn, and when she faced forward again, her eyes went wide. Someone was behind me. At that moment I realized I hadn’t accounted for Dolores. I spun on my toe and fired the Op 7 at the same time I saw Dolores’s mouth open in shock. My bullet entered her upper-chest area where the dragon’s blood made quick work of destroying her nervous system. She dropped the gun she was holding, and it clanked against the floor loudly.
I turned back to face Dulcie and found she was already throwing herself into my arms.
“You totally were going to get me perfume for Christmas, weren’t you?” Dulcie joked as she turned away from me and faced the oven again, continuing to struggle with a recipe that was supposed to lead to gingersnaps. Knowing Dulcie’s baking skills, though, I wasn’t holding my breath.
“Perfume?” I asked, playing innocent.
“I bet you were!” she continued, nodding all the while. She glanced over her shoulder at me again and stuck her tongue out. “Do you realize you’ve gotten me perfume for every birthday or gift-giving holiday in the last year? It’s like you have no idea what to get me!”
“With that attitude, you’ll get nothing and like it!” I threw back at her, and chuckled.
She laughed and continued stirring the gingersnap batter, which appeared to be giving her quite a hard time. It had been three days since I’d rescued her from Ibahn, but she didn’t seem the worse for wear. ’Course, as an ANC regulator, Dulcie was accustomed to these sorts of situations, so maybe it shouldn’t have surprised me to find her so unscathed.
Luckily, the attack on Angel’s snipers was also successful. Four of them were killed in the raid on River Bottom while the others would be spending their holidays behind bars. I saw to it that Stone Angel was relocated to a ward within the hospital, which was reinforced with anti-telepathic barriers to disallow him from conversing with anyone.
“Ugh, why is this batter so damned sticky?” Dulcie complained as she pulled the wooden spoon out of the bowl along with the entire wad of dough.
“Why don’t you take a break and come and sit on Santa’s lap? You can tell him what you want for Christmas,” I said, and even patted my lap encouragingly.
Dulcie laughed and removed her apron, hanging it over one of the chair backs by the dining room table as she approached me. She smiled in that seductive way of hers before settling herself in my lap and looping her arms over my head.
“Mmm, so have you been a good girl or a bad one?” I asked.
“Depends on what you mean by bad,” she answered, tilting her chin up so she could kiss me. Her lips were incredibly soft and moist, and I savored the taste of her. It was difficult to pull away.
“Let me guess. You’d like some perfume for Christmas?” I asked playfully.
She didn’t say anything right away, but just pulled back and gazed up at me, running her fingers down the side of my face. “Actually, I have everything I want for Christmas right here,” she said.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
A New York Times bestseller, H.P. Mallory began her writing career as a self-published author. She’s a huge fan of anything paranormal, and anything ghost- or vampire-related will always attract her attention.
Her interests are varied, but aside from writing, she’s most excited about traveling. She’s very fortunate to have lived in England and Scotland, both places having a profound effect on her books.
H.P. lives in Southern California where she is busily working on her next book! Please find her on the web at www.hpmallory.com.
Eleven Snipers Sniping (A Short Story) (12 Days of Christmas series Book 11) Page 7