"Care for a drink?"
"No, thanks, I still have to work for half a day. Perhaps tea?"
He ordered two teas; except for us, there were no customers in the pub. After the waiter returned to the bar, he said, "Tell me, how do you negotiate with your monster?"
I knew immediately what he meant. I had reported in writing all my dealings with Rustle several times. "With an electric battery and images of electrical discharges."
"I got that part. I need to know how you made the monster work for you."
I shrugged. "How can you force an intelligent being to cooperate? By alternating intimidation and promises of rewards."
"How did you learn which benefits would suit him?"
"Rustle made it clear to me almost immediately. He likes to taste new feelings and emotions, especially the ones he cannot experience without the help of a man. He has fewer contactees now. He is bored."
"He tried to kill you…"
"Rather, he wanted to maneuver my body for his undivided enjoyment."
"How quickly have you developed mutual understanding?"
"Well, not right away." I recalled strange dreams. "The first changes I started feeling in two weeks, though; perhaps Rustle just waited. He is a very clever being, goddamn this creature!"
Satal nodded, put money on the table for the tea, and left without saying a word. Such behavior was normal for the dark, but he awoke my curiosity.
The visit of my family totally turned into a nightmare. Maybe Joe did not understand how difficult his presence was for my nerves. Well, yes, before we all lived in one house, but that was a long time ago. Luckily for me, the potion prescribed by the healer included sedative medications along with the inhibitors. I was thrilled, seeing my relatives to the station and returning to the apartment ALONE. For the whole evening I lay on the bed, on top of my blankets, in boots, and enjoyed the silence. Then I put my stuff back to their usual places, thus asserting my absolute domination. I was a grown up; it was time to have my own house and be the absolute master in it.
Chapter 23
Snooping on his superior, Captain Baer experienced a sense of guilt - he liked Satal. But Kevinahari was adamant: "Something is going on; you have to help your boss. What have you found out?"
"He took some stuff from secret storage and from the evidence depository. I marked with an asterisk the items he had already returned and ticked the ones that I had seen in his office. I have an impression that a couple of things are gone."
The empath perused the list, highlighting some lines. "This one is a rare ingredient, and it cannot be used in dark magic. Two amulets with unknown functions and encrypted records are gone. Does it bother you?"
"Mr. Satal is a NZAMIPS officer with many years of experience," Baer frowned. "I cannot believe he took them for profit…"
Kevinahari stubbornly shook her head, "Satal can be manipulated. I just do not understand on which hook he has been caught. Ask your people to check if something unusual happened around him recently."
Baer chuckled - he did not like the empath's idea from very beginning, and he decided that he would not go beyond a simple investigation. Then he would talk to Satal openly.
A day later he decisively changed his plan.
"Bad news," the captain came into the empath's office. Kevinahari reached for the cups and teapot, but Baer dismissed her invitation. "Satal's children - two twin boys - didn't show up for class. The school year has already begun, and their teachers worry - they have not been warned. Satal and his wife won't pick up the phone."
"This is bad. Very-very bad," Kevinahari cringed in her chair. "Can you tap his phone line?"
"I did. I put two loyal people on to listen; they will keep this secret. But if it takes more than two weeks, this story will attract unwanted attention."
"We won't be given so much time," the empath took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "The missing amulets! They are our only clue. What are they, what are they used for?"
"I'll show their description to one professor at the university. He might help us."
"Gather a group of your most trusted people," the empath quietly rocked in her chair, staring into the void. "No more than a dozen fighters, the ones who will follow your orders without hesitation. Please, no dark mages. Keep them at the ready at all times."
Baer realized that he would have to confront not just a colleague who went berserk, but a powerful dark magician, obsessed with saving his family. If only he could help Satal! But how could an ordinary cop like him oppose an enemy mighty enough to kidnap the children of the strongest combat mage in the region?!
Satal requested the records of instrumental control - likely, he wanted to track down the timing of the kidnapping. Apparently, he did not find anything.
To keep the twins as hostages (they surely behaved like a pair of rabid wolverines), the culprits needed a detached house with a basement. Baer decided to check the sales of detached homes around Redstone for the past five years - the artisans were renowned for their long-term planning. Even the slightest hint would help to shrink the search area.
Tapping Satal's phone did not help much.
"We are tired of waiting for your results."
"I am not God and cannot walk through walls. The instrument control room is locked, and the key is in the safe of the chief of the local police. Baer usually stays in his office till late night. On Wednesday evening he will go to the city hall, and I'll make a copy of the key. Then I will need a week for…"
"We feel you do not want to cooperate."
"It's beyond my control! The amulets I gave you right away."
"If by the sixteenth all is not done, your chances of getting your kids alive will be severely reduced. And make no mistake; we are watching you."
Reading the listeners' records, Baer shook his head; only people absolutely confident in their power could afford to threaten a dark magician like this. And they were sure that his retaliation wouldn't follow, if it came to that. Also, the captain knew the key to the instrument control room was truly kept safe in the vault, but not in his office - in Satal's. Hence, the senior coordinator tried to gain time. For what?
"Where did the call come from?"
"From the railway station. Fifteen minutes before that a train from Finkaun arrived, ten minutes after - a freight train left for Ekkverh. That's all, unless the caller just took a cab to the station to make a call."
Now they knew the deadline. Artisans did plan some vileness, and there was a chance that they would accomplish it with or without the help of the senior coordinator.
"I've got fifteen hundred real estate transactions related to the purchases of detached houses in the suburbs. Will you have a look?" Baer passed a stack of sheets to the empath.
Kevinahari meekly took the list - she was out of ideas, too. The time was slipping away.
In a gesture of despair, Baer decided to turn to a fortune teller. Not to an unknown charlatan, but to Mrs. Alonzo, who had correctly predicted the four major catastrophes of our time and owed him a couple of favors. But the seer did not help her benefactor.
"No, precious, nothing bad will happen to you. Not this month, nor the next. I will look into the kids' future, if you bring something of theirs - a piece of clothing, for example. Without it I am helpless. One thing I will tell you for sure - do not be afraid of your very near future. Your gloomy period is far from now; it is concealed by the night fogs."
Thus encouraged, the captain returned to his office. Two days prior to the due date scheduled by the artisans, he met with the empath to discuss their course of action.
"Tomorrow we will have to talk to Satal," Kevinahari tried not to look into the eyes of the captain. "I'll be through with the papers overnight. In any case, he must realize that he can't do this quietly - too many people are involved."
Baer did not mention that just two of them knew the truth, and Satal could easily "ensure" their deathly silence.
His night was restless, and before going to
work Baer put on the highest security suit which, however, could not save him against a skillfully aimed curse - the upcoming conversation with Satal would be stressful.
The captain was intercepted by a duty officer in the headquarters' hallway.
"Sir, I beg your pardon, sir! I know we are bound by subordination, but there is a limit to everything! Without booking, without any preliminary notice, without explaining his reasons!"
The captain frowned. "Can you elaborate, Sergeant Farrell?"
"Mr. Satal has been occupying the operational unit for two hours, and all this time the employees cannot…"
"Corporal Maim's group to the operational unit!" Baer rushed with wide strides to meet the inevitable.
The operational unit was a squat, one-story building, equipped for fixing corrupted amulets, imposing charms on weapons and potions, and for performing light-weight but necessary magic - the failure of which would cause no serious consequences worth a trip to the "cleaners" base. The inner space of the building was protected by a double security perimeter, stationary reflectors, and by two dozen traps of various kinds - these safety measures were sufficient for the work of professionals with average magic abilities.
Mages usually booked the operational unit a few days ahead. Two dark officers and a healer-white talked quietly "about life" sitting on a bench in the shade of acacia, not at all disturbed by the disruption of the schedule - it wasn't the first time. All three watched with interest the appearance of stormtroopers with crossbows.
"Emergency!" Captain Baer declared resolutely (his subordinates recognized him without any additional introduction). "Please leave the location of the incident."
Under the glances of harsh stormtroopers, the magicians did not ask questions and retreated in the direction of the main building. The captain decisively opened the door of the operational unit; under such circumstances the owner of the suit with the highest level of protection was supposed to play the role of the shield for the rest.
They found the senior coordinator almost instantly. He sat on the floor against the wall; the lines of a huge pentagram slowly cooled in front of him. His face darkened, deep shadows lay under his eyes.
"You are just in time," the magician wiped excessive perspiration off his face. "Is the group ready?"
Baer nodded uncertainly. "Come on, let's talk openly: I know where they are keeping my children; we have to hurry up now."
An agitated duty-officer pushed his way through the crammed stormtroopers: "Sir, we have a communications problem! None of the phones are working - something happened to the wires."
A maniacal smile appeared on Satal's face. "Do not worry, sergeant. It'll last for an hour and a half."
With mixed feelings of annoyance and relief, Captain Baer began to give out new orders; in ten minutes two trucks filled with stormtroopers drove out of the headquarters' yard.
"Where are we going to, sir?" Baer yielded leadership to Satal.
"Down the street and to the left on the boulevard."
"Can you give us the exact address?"
Satal shook his head. "I do not know the address, only the route. I keep a picture of this place in my mind and will tell you when we reach it."
Kevinahari, who managed to jump in the back of the truck at the last minute, squeezed herself closer to the coordinator, and handed him a blue bottle. He shook his head again. "No, I promised him that I wouldn't do this."
"What makes you keep your promise?" the curator grimly wondered.
Satal chuckled. "He can exact vengeance on my descendants. Do I need it?"
Baer understood with crystal clarity what was going on - they were talking to a possessed man.
"Sir, you are…"
Satal's smile turned into a grin. "Yes, I am! There is always a way to solve any problem, though not all are willing to pay the proper price."
"Rustle simultaneously exists everywhere," the empath elaborated to Baer. "It could trace the path of a specific person in time and space without any problem. But most people whom the monster touches die."
"Well, even if I die, so what," Satal shrugged indifferently. "I'll outlive these bastards anyway."
The trucks left the city and turned off the groomed highway onto a maze of narrow country roads, small farms, large suburban mansions, and unexpected clusters of huts of a totally archaic look, whose inhabitants perceived the appearance of the vehicles as a big event. The drivers were constantly honking to scare donkey drovers, shepherds, and goats off the road - villagers hurried to get home before sunset. Rustle wasn't good as a cicerone; he couldn't judge the navigability of the roads, and a couple of times the trucks had to make a detour, going round littered gullies and muddy, marshy ponds. The squad walked the last two hundred meters to a secluded farm, but they managed to reach the place in an hour and a half. The senior coordinator closed his eyes as if listening to something and confidently nodded: "They are here!"
Kevinahari looked into her records and said, "This estate was not on my list."
It didn't come as a surprise to the captain. Judging by the size of the lot, it was a part of a previously very big farm, which was portioned with choice portions already expropriated by neighbors, and the rest was of no interest to anyone. Baer marveled at the cunning of artisans: their shelter was close to Redstone and very secluded at the same time.
The senior coordinator arranged a war council in the garden, in front of the rickety fence. "Attention everyone - listen to me carefully. My children are in the basement; inside there are three guards," he displayed a piece of paper with a pencil drawing. "I'm not going with you - we can't use magic, they set containers with nitroglycerin here, there, and there. This substance is very unstable; the slightest agitation of the magical background will blow up the house. On the positive side - there are no mages among them." Obviously, the coordinator was familiar with Tangor's report on Arango's explosive steamer.
The captain had to admit that the importance of data received from Rustle justified the risk of submission to the monster. So often people die because of their ignorance of seeming trifles!
"What if my guys hit a container with explosives or drop it?" the corporal in charge of the stormtroopers asked. He certainly knew a bit about unstable substances.
"Let's hope they won't. Move!"
Captain Baer mentally crossed his fingers - he had no evidence of the involvement of the inhabitants of the farm with the kidnapping. What if Rustle was mistaken? Satal didn't file a formal report about his missing children. Fortunately the stormtroopers, busily preparing knives and crossbows for the attack, did not care about the nuances of the law. The armed men looked surreal among overripe apple trees and singing crickets.
"There are no dogs," a scout, who had been sent ahead, reported back to the corporal. "Only chickens in the yard."
The men began to filter through the farm's fence one at a time; Satal didn't let Baer go into the house: "You've decorated yourself with amulets like a Kashtadarian woman with beads. Stay here!" And the captain stayed in the bushes along with the magician, trampling grass and getting angry with his loss of control over the situation. Kevinahari meditated, enjoying the delicious aroma of the apple orchard.
The attack took three minutes at most. Of all the kidnappers present in the basement, only one spotted the appearance of the armed men in time to respond: he rushed to the metal container, mounted on a high tripod. The fate of all the people inside would have been tragic, if a brisk, lively little boy hadn't rushed under his feet at the same moment. Ropes couldn't keep the active children in one place for long. Not expecting such a maneuver, the guard fell on the floor within reach of the second twin and was immediately bitten on the ear. The little kids, angered by their long captivity, plunged their teeth, howling, into the victim. Shocked by the children's behavior, the stormtroopers dawdled, and the artisan almost lost his ear.
The drowsy quietness of the autumn evening exploded with sound and movement. The steps of the stormtroopers rattled in t
he old house. The arrested artisans were searched and tied up; one of the trucks, left on the country road, was moved into the yard - the stormtroopers intended to stay there overnight. Frightened chickens mindlessly ran around under people's feet. Satal, haggard but happy, kept watching his offspring climbing in admiration on the hoods of the trucks; the children's faces were smeared with blood. All three of them together looked like a family of vampires, who had just had a meal.
"I guess your sons don't need an empath's help," Kevinahari murmured softly. Captain Baer chuckled, agreeing. Slightly to the side, the team's healer bandaged the captive, groaning in pain, whose skin hung in flaps. The stormtroopers were saved from bites by the twins' teeth due to their helmets and armor: the young dark creatures saw no difference between their kidnappers and saviors, and only their father managed to tame the little beasts.
The corporal in charge of the stormtroopers was about to set a cordon, till the arrival of the experts.
Captain Baer glanced at the quickly darkening sky: "Do you have a special illumination, corporal? Dan, do you feel the presence of protective amulets here?"
"No, I don't. Even if they had been here before, the owners tore down everything," Satal deftly picked up one of his twins, falling off the truck's footboard, and habitually slapped his back.
"We don't have enough amulets to set a protective perimeter," the corporal became worried. "We didn't plan to stay overnight."
"Let's go back to the city," Captain Baer ordered. "I do not want to make the acquaintance of your new boyfriend, Dan."
The captives were loaded in one truck and the aggressive twins of the senior coordinator in another. Even if they were a hundred times dark, children remained children: the boys were tired of the abundance of impressions and fell asleep sitting up - clinging to their father from both sides with a touching confidence. Baer looked askance at them and considered whether Satal became great and terrible before or after his marriage.
"By the way," Kevinahari was in a state close to euphoria after the successful saving of the hostages, "what did the creature demand from you for its help? In addition to the non-use of inhibitors, of course."
My Path to Magic 2: A Combat Alchemist Page 21