by TR Cameron
“Another shield and something to replace the light charm.”
She chuckled darkly and hefted the bag. “This will cover the first but not the second. Are you sure you wish to be in debt to me?”
Bryant had little tolerance for her games tonight. “Whatever. You know I’m good for it. How long?”
“A week for the shield, another three for the offensive spell.”
“Will it be as powerful as the light charm?”
She nodded. “At a minimum.”
“See you in a week, then.” He turned and strode toward the door. There was an argument at the arms dealer’s table, and one of the gang members tried to draw a gun from his shoulder holster, only to be held back by the other. Bryant shook his head with a sickly smile.
There is more opportunity than ever before with the worlds coming together and these idiots are still obsessed with turf wars.
When he cleared the door, he sent a text through a series of ARES proxy servers that would hide the source to inform the FBI that two persons of interest were meeting with a person of much greater interest. He thought for a moment about warning Kienka that the authorities might show up but had little doubt she was already gone.
Chapter Seventeen
Taggart stepped out of the Uber he’d caught halfway across town from the ARES base and stared at the Capitol Building with its instantly recognizable rotunda that reached for the sky.
Sometimes, all this need for secrecy is damn annoying.
He gathered with the crowd that prepared to take one of the regularly scheduled tours of the landmark and paid for his ticket. The drone of the tour guide faded into the background. He’d heard it all before. A search of his memory revealed that this was actually his third trip inside as a tourist. His clothes were a far cry from his daily uniform but blended well with the tourists in the group. Especially the Capitals baseball cap. He wore glasses with thick lenses and shuffled a little as he walked.
They entered the inner lobby and he stepped aside as if heading for the marked restroom. Once out of sight, he tapped his ID card on a dark panel beside an unmarked door and quickly slipped through when the lock released. Several twists and turns followed along a hallway that he imagined most senators never saw but their aides and interns were very familiar with. Finally, he located the next unmarked door he sought.
Seventh on the left.
He tapped his ID again and the door opened to reveal a small conference room about twice the size of his office. Another entrance was visible on the far wall.
The space was sparse, merely a brown oval table and six chairs, a large display mounted on one wall, and a low credenza opposite it. Taggart crossed to it, placed his hand on the side of the carafe resting on the top, and smiled. The coffee on Capitol Hill was some of the best he’d ever had.
Gotta keep the elected representatives well caffeinated so they can dole out the tax dollars and fight over image rather than substance. He snorted. Thank God ARES doesn’t have to deal with any of that nonsense.
A stack of heavy mugs was artfully arranged beside the carafe, and he took the top one, careful not to disturb the rest. He pressed the button to release the life-giving liquid and inhaled the scent as it filled his cup.
Amazing, as always.
He had barely settled into a seat along the side of the table when the door opened and Aaron Finley hustled in. The junior senator from Rhode Island was in the second year of his six-year term but had been in military intelligence during his twenty-year Army stint. ARES had done its due diligence and requested him when a rare opening on the oversight council had appeared.
Taggart rose and circled the table to shake the man’s hand and gripped his forearm gently. “Senator, always good to see you.”
“Carson, good to see you too. How many times do I have to tell you to quit using my title? We’re both soldiers, for fuck’s sake.”
He laughed. “At least one more time, I guess, Aaron. You know how it is. Memory fades as you get older.”
The other man shook his head. “Sure, sure. Just so you’re aware, I’ve already taken a vow never to play cards with you, you devious bastard.”
Senator Finley still looked strong, although he’d clearly put on a few pounds since his active duty days. His hair was close-cropped in a military style and he walked with perfect posture and abundant energy. He drew his own cup of coffee and sat in the chair diagonal from the other man at the head of the table. “So, what’s up?”
“Status report, mainly.”
The man nodded and leaned back to go into what Taggart thought of as recording mode. His prodigious memory was one of the reasons he’d had such a successful military intelligence career. It was also why he now filled the role of go-between, as he could faithfully relate the concerns of ARES and the oversight council to one another. His integrity was such that neither party feared bias.
“You’re aware of the recent encounters?”
Finley nodded.
“Good. That saves time. We found considerable information that appears to confirm our fear that an organized group is behind these, and several other, incidents.”
Finley leaned forward again and seemed concerned. “Do you see this as an escalating threat?”
Taggart rocked his hand in a gesture of uncertainty. “It’s hard to tell. From what the investigators have given me, I’d say they’re still ramping up, gathering material and intel. Something is definitely on the rear burner, though, and getting ready to move to the front.”
“Okay. Not great, but not critical. Gotcha.”
The SAC retrieved his phone and pressed a few buttons to call up a silent edited montage of Diana’s training sessions. He set it before Finley, pressed play, and spoke over the video. “Agent Diana Sheen is proving to be everything we hoped she’d be. She is strategically and tactically minded, unafraid to get into a scrap, and a natural leader.” He paused for a moment’s consideration, then decided he’d keep her magic abilities in-house.
And I definitely won’t mention the troll.
“She’ll do a great job setting up the Pittsburgh office.”
The senator tapped the table with cupped fingers. “Now that’s a project I’m excited to hear about. Tell me more.” By all accounts, Finley was fully committed to ARES’ mission and concurred that geographic expansion was vital to ensure quick responses to events. Office locations had been chosen for proximity to sites likely to have magical problems, either due to nearby Kemanas or based on a statistical distribution analysis of previous incidents. Pittsburgh was a particular hotspot that met both criteria.
“The Cube is up and running, right on schedule and accepting prison transfers. There is even a regular drill to make sure everything is functioning the way it’s supposed to.”
The senator grunted. “The Council will want to tour it.”
Taggart laughed. “Of course, we can accommodate you and your august fellows, Senator Finley.” He enjoyed jabbing the senator as much as the other man enjoyed poking him. “It’s probably safest to do it singly, though.”
He didn’t respond, so the SAC plowed on. “We have the cover business up and running. It’s a co-working space located in a building that used to house a newspaper.”
Finley frowned. “Isn’t that riskier than normal?”
“We think the trade-off is worth it.” He shrugged. “It’ll give some of our support staff and specialists better cover for entering and exiting the facility. Plus, we’ll install wiring during the remodel to keep a close eye on the people in the spaces above. It’s a new option, and we’ll see how it goes. We bought the building, so if anything becomes problematic, we can simply make the necessary changes.”
The senator sipped his coffee and Taggart took a larger pull of his own to soothe his dry throat and looked longingly at the carafe.
Too much talking, not enough shooting. I gotta get out more.
“Underground construction has proceeded for some time under the guise of river dredging
and infrastructure improvements. We’ve tapped into the city’s light rail system in order to travel undetected. Plus, we have direct access to the Kemana ready to finish once the politics are ironed out.”
Finley looked pleased. “It sounds like that project is well in hand. You know how important it is to our future plans, obviously. If you can find a sustainable model to duplicate, it’ll shorten the overall rollout schedule considerably. Given the other stuff you’ve shared, it sounds like we need it.”
Taggart drew a deep breath. What had come before was all within the normal bounds of their planning. Bryant’s idea would be significantly far out on the proverbial limb. “On that topic, I have another new wrinkle to add.”
His companion motioned for him to continue.
“Pittsburgh has been overrun by magical troublemakers for a while. It’s become a little like the lawless days of the Wild West, with the best bounty hunters in the area focused on Philly and Boston and lower-level operatives unable to handle the load. Our team will have to do some cleanup work first—maybe even on an ongoing basis.”
The senator frowned. “Isn’t that sort of visibility a serious security concern?”
“We think we have a fix for that.” Taggart smiled and unfastened the top of his shirt to reveal a necklace supporting a green pendant. “Try not to freak out.” He pressed the stone and whispered, “Procidat.” The tingle that spread through his face as his features changed felt like arachnid feet and made him shudder. He had practiced in a mirror and knew he now appeared stunningly average, another unremarkable person in the crowd.
Finley gasped. With a laugh, the SAC deactivated the illusion. “It’s a little something our magic techs have worked on.”
The senator was clearly impressed, and excitement radiated from him. “Can we use that to impersonate people?”
“That was the first question I asked, too. Not yet, they say, but they’re working on it. No timeline, unfortunately.”
He leaned back in his chair with a frown and folded his arms. “We can’t have everything, I guess. I bet your non-magic techs are pissed.”
And how.
“Let’s say they consider it a personal challenge to create a hologram-based version. It’s early days and they’ve failed more often than not but seem well motivated.”
“A little competition is good for the soul. That’s what my drill instructor always used to argue before he made us race back to camp at the end of a march.”
“You got to march? We had to run the whole way. The military’s gone soft since I got out.” The two men shared a laugh.
Taggart drained the rest of his mug. “So what we’re thinking is a second cover business—a bounty hunter agency. They’ll wear masks or use the amulets, or both if the occasion demands. We can put some false pieces on the weapons, too. Basically, we do what is needed to make it look unrelated.”
The senator nodded. “I’ll kick it up the chain but I’m sure you’ll get approval. Have you reached out to the leaders in the Kemana?”
The SAC shook his head. “I’ll let Agent Sheen take care of that. Getting thrown into the fire is the best way to forge a weapon, right?”
“You’re spending a lot of effort on her.”
He nodded. “She’s worth it. She’ll be a star. And besides, Bryant will watch over her and set the stage for more new locations in the northeast and mid-Atlantic.”
“How is that smarmy bastard?”
“He hasn’t changed. He strikes sparks off Diana whenever they’re together and keeps everyone around him sharp with his magic powers of annoyance.”
Finley laughed. “I had doubts when you said he would be in charge, but he seems to have come into his own, too. You’re a good judge of character.”
Taggart smiled. “You’re only saying that because I recommended you for the Council.”
“It may be, may be.” The man rose and looked at his watch, a duplicate of the one Taggart and his agents wore. “I have to be somewhere in five minutes, so I’d better get going.”
“One last thing,” the SAC said and slid a box across to him. “This is new tech—an anti-illusion bracelet. Yours is designed to look like a fitness tracker so it can’t be connected to us. It’ll grow cold if there are illusions around you.”
There’s no point in mentioning that we had someone spy on him to attune it.
The senator opened the box, admired the bracelet, and slipped it on. “Quick test?”
Taggart nodded, whispered the phrase to activate his amulet, and steeled himself against the crawling spiders. Finley shook his wrist. “Cold is right. Good work, as always, Special Agent.”
“Enjoy your meeting, Senator.” He smiled, checked his own watch, and made some quick calculations. There was more than enough time for another cup of coffee before he needed to rejoin the tour. He refilled his mug and retrieved his phone to access the secure apps and review the senator’s calendar. Finley did indeed have a meeting…of a sort. Lunch with the very attractive lobbyist representing one of the countries in the Middle East. Taggart shook his head.
It’s fine to look, Senator, but don’t touch. Your wife wouldn’t like it. And in this world, there are eyes everywhere.
After a moment’s reflection, he sent a text to his analysts requesting a human review of the data that would be collected by the senator’s watch during his meeting.
Someone’s always watching.
Chapter Eighteen
Idiots. They’re lucky they’re dead.
The elf was incensed but retained a calm exterior. Nehlan considered himself a master of control, which was one of the reasons he had risen to the position of authority he held as Second-in-command of the Remembrance. Still, if they had not already met their demise at the hands of the humans, he would have given Insela, Giandeh, and Lienne an experience of what true pain felt like. Insela had been Giandeh’s underling, and Giandeh and Lienne his. The loss left him with only a single agent on Earth.
He shook his head and sighed. “Your deaths were too easy.”
His expression grim, he stood and set his book on the table beside the wingback leather chair. The room was all wood, the natural growth of the tree that made up the structure of his home. It was small, which fitted the image he projected to his community, but richly appointed. He gestured at the scrying window that had replayed the last minutes of his minions’ lives and the images vanished.
A second wave summoned a mirror, and he confirmed that his jade robes and black shirt and trousers were properly pressed. His feet were bare, as they always were in this place. He circled his arms and muttered an incantation, and a portal appeared, the connection to the place he truly considered home. He stepped through onto the receiving platform and the doorway slid closed behind him. Comfortable sandals awaited him, and he slipped into them and advanced through his domain.
The room he entered was formed completely out of dark wood and was hidden deep within an untamed forest. An errant portal had deposited him there many decades before, and he had chosen to take it as a sign. It had required countless trips to convince the obstinate forest to bend to his will, but he had finally done it. His base of operations now had several bedrooms, abundant training spaces, multiple kitchens, and all the other requirements of life. Only a trusted few knew of its existence. The wooden borders at the top and bottom of each wall were carved with intricate runes to conceal his home from the uninvited and prevent those few he permitted access from identifying its location. It was his refuge, his favorite retreat, and his ultimate defense.
He traced his fingers along the etched walls as he walked to verify the strength of the wards he had created.
I am safe. No one will find me here.
Nehlan sighed.
Unfortunately, if these fools continue to fail me, I will have to leave my protections behind and take care of these upstart humans myself.
His brow furrowed and his fine features twisted into a snarl. Finally, he reached the room that only his closest l
ieutenants and superiors ever saw. It was triply warded, as it was the single area an outsider could enter without his participation so long as they held one of the coins and knew the proper invocations.
Those below him had no similar strongholds, and while his own superior likely did, he chose to travel rather than reveal it.
In time, I will be fully trusted. And if he will not do so of his own volition, perhaps an opportunity will need to be created.
He smiled thinly to himself. It would be unexpected indeed were he to rebel against his superior, the one who brought him into the Remembrance.
Which will work to my benefit should that moment arrive.
The elf invested an hour each day in intense training, varying weapons and tactics for the inevitable day when he would need to call upon them for advancement. Or survival.
One of the bracelets he wore on his right arm warmed and announced incoming magic. Nehlan stepped to the side of the room and stood against the wall. He positioned his left arm behind his back and touched the small container of deadly pellets that lay an instant away through a small slit in his robe. A portal formed, and his immediate subordinate, a dwarf with black hair and a close-trimmed beard, stepped through. Although smaller than he, Kergar’s presence would be powerful for someone twice his size. He turned and made a small bow, and his arms swept to the side. “You asked for me, and I am here. At your service, master.”
Nehlan’s lips twitched. His subordinate believed that such shows of obsequiousness would cause him to let down his guard.
Not in this lifetime.
“Thank you for responding so quickly to my summons. Please join me for some refreshment.” Without waiting for a response, he turned and strode from the room. The house was kept by a pair of servants, a human husband and wife kidnapped from their world long ago. He had cast layers of spells to ensure their loyalty and servitude and to deny them even the thought of betrayal. They watched over his home while he was away and ensured that it would be ready for guests at a moment’s notice.