Federal Agents of Magic Boxed Set

by T. R. Cameron

  She stepped beside him. “So what’s the score?”

  He flipped the container open. “We have a lead on a terrorist cell the FBI has tracked.” He handed her a standard issue SWAT vest but with the letters covered by a black patch. “Normally, we wouldn’t intervene since the Bureau needs to put their information sources together to identify the group. But this one has some interesting wrinkles, so we’re on it.” He pulled out his own Kevlar and draped it over his head.

  Diana peeled off her racing jacket and handed it to him with a stern look. He returned a small smile as he folded it carefully and deposited it in the cab. She nodded her acknowledgment.

  At least he knows leather deserves respect.

  Bryant flipped the container closed and locked it.

  “You’re spying on the FBI?”

  “Technically, we’re spying on the FBI.” He walked around to the far side of the vehicle and unlocked the other half of the chest. “We monitor everyone, but with primary attention to things that might be magic-related.”

  Her discomfort probably showed on her face. “CIA?”

  He nodded.

  “NSA?”

  “Yep.”

  “PDA?”

  “Of course.”

  “Homeland?”

  He grimaced. “That’s a touchy one. They are very much on guard against data intrusions. We’re doing old school human intelligence there.”

  “Like cloak-and-dagger spy stuff?”

  His hand disappeared into the container and several clicks sounded from inside. He withdrew a Colt M4 carbine and handed it to her. “Kind of. One of our people works for them as an analyst and has climbed the ladder to some significant access.”

  Diana took the weapon and examined it once she’d ensured that the trigger switch was set to safe. A click released the magazine, and she verified it was full before she reinserted it and accepted a pair of extras from Bryant. “ARES’ super-secret shadowy oversight group doesn’t have a problem with this?” she asked as she stashed them in the thigh pouches of her tactical pants.

  He shrugged. “That’s above my pay grade to know.” He turned back to the container to retrieve his own rifle. “But we’re very sensitive to their operations and stay in our own playground whenever we can. We have enough to do. When we discover things that aren’t in our purview, we help them connect the dots with a quiet word sent through various channels.”

  “All-righty then.” The movie quote inspired another thin smile and a barked laugh. She could tell it was forced. The look on his face told the story. “You’re worried. Why are you worried?”

  He locked the cabinet with his left hand and held the rifle in his right, aimed at the ground. “The thing at the museum was one piece of a puzzle. This might be another piece of the same puzzle. If so, it’s more dangerous than a standard break and bust.”

  She rewarded his honesty with a smile. “I didn’t picture you as the timid type. Then again, you did send someone else over to chat us up at the bar.”

  That earned another heartier laugh. “When you really get to know me, you’ll see I’m anything but timid. But there’s a random variable in this one.” He pulled the door of the cab open, retrieved a headset, and extended it to her. Both set their weapons down to don the equipment, then did a quick comm check. He removed a pair of sleek glasses from a pouch and put them on.

  “If it’s so dangerous, why are only the two of us going in?”

  He pointed at an alley that ran south about a half-block away and walked in that direction. The system rendered his words as perfectly as if his lips were next to her ear. “The cell contracted with a magic-capable mercenary who goes by Guerre. He’s been on our radar a few times but stays extremely well hidden. We think he has a cyber wizard covering his movements.”

  “You mean a data geek, right?”

  “Yes. But cyber wizard sounds so much fancier, and it’s what our data geeks like to be called. You do not want to tick them off. Trust me on this.”

  She nodded. It always paid to be friends with those who knew things you didn’t, especially when those things could alter real-world reality with a quick adjustment to electronic reality.

  “Got it. Dangerous dude, average terrorists.”

  “Check.”

  “No anti-magic tech?”

  Bryant shook his head. “Supply problems. That’s part of the problem of being a newish off-the-books agency. We’re not cleared to have them, and our backchannels aren’t established yet. We’re working on it. I considered hijacking a shipment, but somehow, that seemed wrong. For now, we’ll have to rely on the basics, plus our own not-insubstantial skills.”

  She squinted into the distance, past the alley’s end, and saw a shop window across a street. “So, where’s the rest of the team?”

  “They have a perimeter around the business the terrorists are using for a safe house. Snipers have cover on one side, with a pair to catch runners in the other direction. Another set is watching the back door.”

  The alley’s exit revealed a row of storefronts on either boundary of a deserted two-lane street.

  “Are you holding traffic?” Diana asked.

  “Nope. It’s not busy after around nine or so.”

  That explained the timing of the raid, which meant she’d had to cut her visit with Max short when the call to action came. She broke into a jog to keep up as Bryant strode across the road.

  “A team will follow us in, but I’m the best sneak we’ve got, and you appear to have a few skills, so we’re in the lead,” he said.

  Another small alley ran to the rear of the buildings a few stores down, and he led her into it. When they reached the back, she saw their target to the left. A pair of fully outfitted agents stood with their backs against the wall, and a knotted black rope descended from the roof to puddle on the ground between them.

  “Tell me that’s a grappling hook, like in an old Batman episode,” Diana gushed.

  Her partner chuckled again. “A little more advanced, but yeah. It’s only two stories, so they probably threw it up there.”

  “Dibs. Next time, I get to throw it.”

  That finally drew a real laugh. “You’ve got it.”

  She scanned the area and saw some likely defensive measures. “Cameras and alarms?”

  “Both. We’ve already hacked and looped the camera feeds, and we used the master alarm code to put the system on standby.”

  “So why the roof?”

  “They may not be top shelf, but that doesn’t make them stupid. Our surveillance team’s watched them all day and identified bells on both the doors. We’ve assumed they have microphones on the main floor that feed into the basement. It’s what I’d do, anyway.”

  Bells. She shook her head. The classics never go out of style.

  “Clever.”

  They reached the rope, and Bryant gestured for her to lead. “If it were easy, they wouldn’t need us.”

  “True that.” She grabbed the rope and climbed, pulling herself up easily and bracing her feet on the knots every foot or so. She felt a shake as Bryant started up behind her. “Bryant, is this a private line?”

  “Yep. I’ll explain the comm gear another time, but if you want to access everyone, it’s channel two.”

  “Gotcha. Also, I know you let me go first so you could stare at my ass, letch.”

  She scored the second real chuckle of the evening and smiled.

  When they arrived at the roof, they moved in a crouch toward the door that sealed the stairwell. Bryant drew a tiny pistol-like object from a pouch on his vest and put it against the lock. After three rapid trigger pulls, the door swung open.

  He raised a finger to his lips and she nodded as he took point. When the staircase widened enough for him to do so, he peered over the banister to check the hall below and continued the descent. They reached a landing with doors to the left and right, with bronze numbers and letters reading 2A and 2B. She imagined that in better economic times, the owners of the
store below would live in one and rent out the other. The dust on the floor suggested the apartments had been empty for some time. Particles spiraled up into her nose as her footsteps stirred them up, and she suppressed a sneeze as she followed Bryant along the hallway that curved toward the back of the building.

  They found the second stairwell directly beneath the first and started down. Each held their carbine extended forward, ready to fire. She checked to ensure hers was on triple burst, since the mystery of what they might discover called for more munitions and less precision. They passed the midpoint, and her partner craned his head around again before he resumed his course.

  He moved a little slower, and it took her a moment to realize that it was her perception that had changed, not reality. Diana squeezed his shoulder gently, and he froze. She scanned the stairwell ahead and the parts of the room she could see. A faint glow caught her attention. Things accelerated to normal speed as she pointed it out. Bryant lowered his chest to the stair and peered at it for several seconds before he stood and turned back to her. He held a finger up, pointed at himself, and made a curve over the railing. Then he held up two, pointed at her, and made the same gesture.

  She nodded and kept her rifle trained forward as he climbed over the banister and lowered himself carefully to the floor, using the slats for support. He moved aside to cover her, and she did the same. They paused for a moment to breathe. Then, he gestured down the hall, which was symmetrically below the one on the second level. He took a few steps and stopped, pointed at the right wall at knee height and chest height, and again at the left. She saw the tiny flickers of glass and recognized the laser projectors.

  Through a series of complex gestures, he conveyed a plan to simultaneously break the beams with adhesive reflectors that would make it seem that the real beam was still present. She nodded her understanding and took a pair from him. For a moment, it annoyed her that he doubted her ability to crawl through the middle with him, then realized it was probably for the duo who descended behind them. When she’d heard him whisper, he must have warned them about the first obstacle.

  They made it to the door and disable one more trap along the way. It had a handle lock and a deadbolt, and Bryant released his rifle to dangle on its sling as he drew heavy-duty picks from another pouch. It took him fifteen seconds to defeat the deadbolt and only ten to release the handle. He motioned for her to kill her mic and leaned close to speak to her, his lips at the ear that didn’t have the earpiece in it. “It’s sure to be alarmed.” She nodded. “Are you ready to rock-and-roll?”

  Nice of him to check in without everyone listening, but unnecessary.

  “Born ready.”

  He straightened and gestured her back around the corner before he twisted the knob and pulled the door open.

  Chapter Seven

  Nothing happened. Diana had expected an explosion or at least some shouts of alarm. There was only silence.

  Bryant crept around the corner and she followed as he descended in a crouch. They each found and disarmed another trap on the way down before they paused a dimly lit basement that must have equaled the full size of the building. It was stacked high with crates, boxes, barrels, and other odds and ends.

  But no terrorists, and no magical mercenary.

  “What the hell?” Her brow furrowed in confusion.

  Bryant’s face mirrored hers. “Weirder and weirder. Check left. I’ll check right.”

  They circled the room in opposite directions. She looked behind containers, down at the floor, and up at the ceiling. They met again in the center, having found nothing of interest.

  Diana racked her brain for an explanation. “Are you sure they were here?”

  “Of course.” He gave her a withering look. “We’ve had eyes on the jerks for a while. They definitely went in and they didn’t come out the front, back, or top.”

  She threw her hands up, annoyed. “And yet they’re not here. Clearly, there’s something we’re not seeing.”

  Bryant snapped his fingers. “Or something we are seeing.” He released his rifle to dangle on its strap and closed his eyes. “Okay, let me concentrate.”

  He looked like he was meditating and she used the privacy to inspect him. His face was narrow and handsome, even behind the ludicrously fashionable glasses he wore for the mission. The dark hair that was just long enough on top to sweep to the side was appealingly ragged and set off his tanned skin nicely. He displayed the balance and ease of a natural athlete—and the body as well, trim but muscular in all the right places. All in all, an impressive physical specimen.

  Too bad he’s a chucklehead.

  His voice, low and serious, jerked her out of her thoughts. “What is hidden, let it be found.” A shimmer on the basement’s back wall quickly silenced the laugh that threatened to burst forth. When it dissipated, there was a hole in its place. The opening was ragged, oval, and about five-and-three-quarters feet high.

  She turned to him with an accusing glare. “You didn’t tell me you had magic.”

  He shrugged with a soft smile. “I doubt you’ve told me everything about yourself either.”

  Fair point.

  “Besides, it’s good to have people with magic on the team. It gives us an edge the other agencies don’t have.”

  “That makes sense, I suppose.” She peered into the hole. “It looks like they’ve been digging for a while, but only with hand tools or something. They probably couldn’t risk the noise of explosives. I bet a bunch of these containers are filled with stone and dirt.”

  Bryant nodded. “Sounds logical. Do you have your light?”

  She glared again and rolled her eyes as she pulled the mini-Maglite out of her back pocket. They snapped the lights on and moved cautiously into the tunnel. Visibility was limited to a few feet at a time as the rough-hewn tube frequently struck what must’ve been areas of denser stone and took a turn. First right, then left, then right again.

  They paused to catch their breath, and Diana gazed ahead with concern. “Where do you think it goes?”

  “It’s hard to tell. It feels like we’re following the street roughly, though, so one of the other stores maybe.”

  She hadn’t noticed what other businesses were located nearby—a definite failure, so she let the subject drop. They continued to twist and turn and she lost track of distance after a while. Bryant slowed, and she heard noises ahead. They advanced in a crouch and then in a crawl until he laid down on his side at a wider portion of the tunnel a few feet back from an opening. He wiggled against the left wall to make space for her to lie beside him. Their rifles aimed toward the room beyond.

  An arrogant bass echoed in the silence. “You people have not gotten as far as you promised you would,” it said with great disdain.

  A higher, more resentful, and decidedly less confident voice answered in an accent that recalled an Afghan instructor at the Academy to Diana’s memory. “Promises were made. We have stopped all work until you deliver on your end of the deal. When shall we receive the explosives we require?”

  The great voice laughed. “Fools. That material is already secured. Half of it is on its way to the storage site you requested and the rest will be delivered here, should you ever complete your task.”

  The second man sounded skeptical. “You have proof of this?”

  The bass descended into a rumble. “My word is enough for anyone with a modicum of sense. But perhaps you know of the various incidents this past Monday?” There was a pause. “All part of the plan to secure the explosives.”

  Diana gave Bryant a light punch, and he nodded.

  “Very well.” The Afghan sounded mollified. “We expect it will take another four days to reach the target.” His tone turned hopeful. “Unless you would like to assist with your special abilities?”

  The man laughed. “Such work is beneath me, which is why you are doing it. Even if it were not, I am not at your beck and call.”

  A third voice, also Afghan, joined the conversation with fi
ery indignation. “Who are you to say such things to him, to question us? We accomplished great deeds before coming to this country and will accomplish many more here as well.” His tone rose a notch. “You could make this easier, benefiting all, but your own arrogance and blindness make a fool of you.”

  The first speaker’s voice became eerily calm. “It appears a lesson is in order.”

  Bryant’s eyes widened, and Diana felt him move. They burst from the tunnel together, hurtled forward, and raised their rifles. They emerged as a cone of flame erupted from the wand held by a black-clad man and crossed the short distance to another figure. The flames enveloped their target and consuming the defiant worker more rapidly than any natural fire could have managed. There was enough time for the beginnings of a scream before the spell burned the vocal cords and the remains of the worker crumpled into a charred heap.

  They appeared to be in another basement, this one smaller than the one at the start of the tunnel. Bryant yelled, “Everybody down!” and veered left. She echoed his command and sidestepped right. Heads snapped around, and each of the five presumed terrorists reached for weapons. The agents’ suppressed rifles generated tiny echoes in the small space as triple bursts stitched two of the enemies before they could bring their pistols to bear. The return fire from the remaining three resounded violently from every surface, and bullets lodged into the surrounding walls.

  Bryant coughed as one caught him in the vest but continued to fire as he staggered back. Diana was in the middle of drawing a bead on her second target when things slowed down again. She dove forward while her instincts screamed at her to flee. The wash of fire sucked the oxygen out of the space she’d vacated and left her breathless as she lurched to her feet and scanned the area wildly.

  The mage turned his wand toward her partner and she screamed a warning. He dodged and darted behind the closest terrorist, and the flames washed over the enemy. She raised her rifle and fired a volley at the mage, who blocked them with a twitch of his wand—exactly like the bastard in the museum had.