Federal Agents of Magic Boxed Set

by T. R. Cameron

  She bent to the man who panted as tears seeped from his eyes. “Who are you?”

  “You’re dead, human.”

  She slapped him, raising his head off the ground hard enough to hurt but not hard enough to put him out. “I asked you a question, asshole. Who are you? And while we’re at it, who sent you?”

  Drisnan spat at her. “Kill me if you must, but cease your nattering, woman.”

  Both Rath and Max growled behind her, and the wizard’s eyes widened. She laughed. “Yeah, you’re real tough when attacking women, animals, and tiny trolls from a distance. But up close, you’re simply another coward.” She trussed him like his buddy and stood. “Let’s go, you two.”

  She retrieved her belongings, let Max into the backseat, and restrained him securely with his safety harness. Rath’s canister went into its spot in her cupholder, and she climbed in after one last sad look at the dent in her car. Her first call was to ARES to retrieve the trash she’d left behind. She made sure, after a quick glance at the bound giant on the ground, to specify a large vehicle. Her second was to her repair shop. She wouldn’t let the Stingray suffer any longer than necessary.

  The response team was fast and arrived before Rath and Max grew bored and started to cause trouble. Finally, the necessary tasks complete, she pulled into the street and headed for home. “So, Rath, do you care to explain what went on back there?”

  The troll gave her a toothy grin. “Fighting mode.”

  Diana shook her head with a laugh. If there was a note of hysteria in it resulting from all that Rath’s potential for chaos portended, she was sure that neither the dog nor the troll would notice it.

  Well, fairly sure, anyway.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Kergar raised the shot glass to his lips and drank the clear liquid in one burning swallow. He coughed and refilled it from the bottle on his desk. They had opened the rum to share a drink before his lieutenants had left a few hours before to handle the trivial matter of disposing of the woman.

  He drank again and refilled once more.

  Now, the bottle was half-empty, and he delayed no longer. The dwarf stood and crossed to the warded door, threw the mundane locks, and sent a small pulse of magic to activate the runes carved into the lintel. He returned to his seat and shook his head to clear it, reached down to the bottom drawer of his desk, and muttered an incantation to deactivate its defenses.

  Kergar retrieved a sculpture with a wooden base and arms of pure gold that spiraled up to support a purple power crystal. He set it carefully on the surface of the desk, then withdrew the coin from the hidden pocket inside his shirt and raised it to the light to admire the quality of its craftsmanship. The identity of its creator was a mystery. All he knew was that his superior—ha—had provided it as a means to travel, to communicate, and as a token of membership. None of his own underlings had one. The coins were reserved for those with responsibility.

  And eventually, power. But first, I have to play the game a little longer.

  He whispered a series of words in a language never known on Earth and long forgotten on Oriceran. A mist emanated from the coin and rose slowly over the crystal. The vapor gained solidity and brilliance as it caressed the gem’s facets. After several moments, it coalesced into the robed form of his superior. He wore an eager expression and spoke before Kergar had a chance to.

  “What news?”

  He sighed. “Failure, master. Another unexpected wrinkle.” He had argued with himself over how closely to stick to the truth but realized he had no way to know whether his superior had been watching. “Your criticisms proved true, again. We underestimated her. Again.”

  Nehlan’s face contorted in fury. His voice was level and controlled, but it was clear that his lack of aggression required significant effort to maintain. “Did I not warn you?”

  “You warned me, yes, master.” He nodded. “And I warned those beneath me. The strategy was sound based on our observations, but our expectations proved to be optimistic.”

  The elf frowned. “Explain.”

  Kergar spread his hands. “The dog is more fearsome than we expected.”

  His master interrupted him with a cackle.

  Shit. He sounds insane.

  “The dog? You are telling me you failed because of a dog?”

  He rushed to interrupt. “Not only the dog, master. A troll. A very violent troll.”

  The fury diminished visibly as thoughtfulness intruded into Nehlan’s expression. “Interesting. And potentially a vulnerability. Good to know. Was it full-size?”

  He desperately wanted to say yes. He was reasonably certain, now, that his master had not seen the battle. But the little voice inside—the one that prized survival above all else—cautioned against it. He sighed. “Not full size, no. But very effective.” He had watched the battle in real time through a scrying orb and had seen the punch that brought Drisnan down. It had hurt him simply to see it. It was fortunate that Sheen had intervened before the troll could release his full rage on the mage.

  His master shook his head. He looked and sounded exasperated. “Did she kill them?”

  “No. They are on their way to the new human prison.”

  Nehlan nodded decisively. “Kergar, I will give you a very simple task. This is your last opportunity. You have failed me twice but our long history together earns you one final chance to redeem yourself. You will ensure that your people do not make it to that place. Rescue them if possible. Kill them if necessary. We cannot allow the humans to interrogate them.”

  The dwarf nodded, relieved. The fear that had squeezed his chest receded.

  His master switched topics and expressions simultaneously and seemed to put the matter behind him.

  I am not fooled. I know you neither forget nor forgive. Perhaps our reckoning will need to come sooner rather than later.

  “Are the plans finalized for the party?”

  He leaned forward, finally able to share some good news. “Yes, master. Identities have been secured, and we have confirmation that all shall be as we expect it to be.”

  Nehlan gave him a thin smile. “Given recent failures, perhaps you should run through it once for me.”

  He swallowed hard. “The Oriceran Ambassador to the United Nations is to arrive for the party at seven in the evening, an hour after the dinner portion of the event begins. Drinks are at five-thirty, and our inside people will be in place at least an hour before.”

  “You have sufficient covers?”

  He nodded. “We have secured positions at the hotel during the last month. Some collateral damage was required to create opportunities.”

  The elf waved his hand. “Continue.”

  “As I said, the ambassador arrives at seven. He will enter through the front door and immediately move to the stage to begin his speech. The vice president arrives at seven-thirty, along with an increased security presence. This gives us a window of thirty minutes in which to act. We plan to strike immediately after he begins his speech when everyone has settled in and believes they are safe.”

  His master nodded, seemingly content with the arrangement. “And your exit route?”

  “Once we have the ambassador, we have our choice of three exits. Cars in the street are our fallback, and a departure from the roof is our first backup. If all goes well, we will go out through the kitchens and through the basement tunnel that connects to the company’s other property a block away. Of course, this assumes that they have blocked our ability to create a portal.”

  Nehlan grunted. “The humans have shown this ability before. We must expect them to use it. You’ve ensured that the tunnel is passable?”

  “We have.” He nodded confidently. It is a relic of a time gone by when the wealthy owners needed a way from one place to the other without appearing in public. The tunnel was well constructed then and holds up now. It will be a little beneath the ambassador’s station, of course.” He risked a chuckle.

  His master’s frown indicated he wasn’t
at all impressed. “Just so we’re clear, remind me what happens if the ambassador dies.”

  Kergar swallowed the painful lump that appeared in his throat. “I die.”

  “And?”

  “All my people die.”

  The elf smiled coldly. “Where the humans are concerned, kill whom you must but no more. Once they know their place, they will be useful partners.” His emphasis on the word left no doubt that it would not be an equal partnership. Kergar was also fully aware that Nehlan couldn’t care less about the people of Earth but was appropriately worried about limiting the exposure of the Remembrance. A mass killing would draw far too many eyes to them.

  He nodded to acknowledge the instruction, then sighed and asked the question that prudence required. “What of Agent Sheen and her organization?”

  His master laughed. “I think we can expect a show of force from them at this event, don’t you?”

  “Certainly so. What if it’s a trap?”

  The elf shrugged. “Sometimes, the only way to deal with a trap is to spring it and turn it back upon itself. Perhaps you should consider ways to accomplish that.”

  There was one more question he didn’t want to ask. He seriously considered ending the conversation but sighed again and gave in to the necessity. “Will you join us, my lord?”

  His master didn’t reply and simply sat in silence, his expression thoughtful. When the one-minute mark passed, he inched his hand toward the device to verify that it was still working. Finally, the elf sighed. “No, I will not. I will, instead, trust you to not fail me again. It is imperative that the ambassador be unavailable for a time.”

  The dwarf wasn’t sure what the ultimate plans for the ambassador were, but after seeing the mentally dominated humans at his master’s home, he thought he might have an inkling. He nodded. “Very well, master. I believe that we are prepared for this and that you will have good news in short order.”

  Nehlan’s gaze bored into his lackey’s. “Do not fail, Kergar. Better you should die in the attempt than come back to me with anything other than success. There are worse fates than the gentle slide into death, and I will ensure you experience every one of them, should you fail.”

  Kergar stuttered “Yes, master.” The image faded in an instant. He had restored the coin to his pocket and locked the warded drawer against all intrusions, both mundane and magical, before he gathered the courage to speak. “Asshole.”

  He pushed himself up on shaky arms and took several deep breaths. An upward gesture armed his wards and another downward tripped the locks. He clutched the bottle and shot glass in one hand and made his way unsteadily to the bar. It was filled with the usual crew, the seats reserved for Cresnan and Drisnan conspicuously empty.

  The bartender wandered over. “What’s up, boss?”

  He emptied his glass in a single swallow and refilled it. Enthan looked hazy, and he smiled at the wavering wizard. “It appears we can’t afford any more setbacks, or many lives are forfeit.”

  He nodded his understanding. “What can we do?”

  “I need you to send our most skilled operatives out on a shopping spree. Find rich homes, steal expensive things, and turn them into human currency. Use it to buy the best mercenaries available.”

  “The ones we hired before were the best available.”

  Kergar shook his head and pointed a swaying finger at the bartender. “No, they were the best not currently contracted. Enough money can convince someone better to break their agreement and join us. Put out the word quietly and see who we can find. Worst case, we go back to the tried-and-true.”

  Enthan grinned. “Kidnapping and extortion?”

  “Everyone has someone or something they love. It’s only a matter of finding their pressure point.”

  He nodded and emptied his glass, then abandoned the empty bottle on the bar. “See that the burglaries start tonight. We need our soldiers within two days. Two days after that, we make a bold move that puts us in a good position with those above. And, maybe, those above them.”

  And, if we’re lucky, maybe we’ll have the chance to kill Sheen where her dog and troll can’t protect her.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Diana set her bag carefully in the backseat of the SUV and secured it with a seatbelt. She looked inside to make sure Rath was okay and he gave her a thumbs-up. She slipped into the passenger seat and buckled in. Bryant stared at her with an annoying grin on his face.

  “Shut up. Drive.”

  He laughed and pulled out into traffic.

  She blew out a breath. “Thanks for the ride.”

  He nodded, then could no longer resist. “You did it with your head, didn’t you? And it was a huge dent, wasn’t it? So vicious the car won’t even run anymore, right?”

  She slapped him on the chest with the back of her hand. “Jerk. No.”

  He chuckled one more time before he sobered. “We didn’t anticipate an attack on any single one of us. Maybe we should have, but then again, it’s a bold move.”

  “Bolder than trying to detonate a Starbucks?”

  “You do have a point.”

  She swiveled in her seat to face him. “Is everything set with my requests?”

  Bryant switched lanes and glided smoothly into a left turn. “We have eyes on your parents and Lisa, plus their homes and yours. Your FBI mentor helped us out with that one.”

  Her relief at the news allowed her stomach to unclench for the first time since the attack. “Good. Thank you.”

  “It’s no more than you deserve.” He shrugged. “I’m surprised you didn’t bring the dog, though.”

  Diana rolled her eyes. “Max is perfectly happy at the shelter daycare, especially since he got to ride in with Doug. Plus, Rath likes visiting the other dogs. Don’t you Rath?”

  A small voice from the backseat said, “Yes. Partners. Must train.”

  Bryant looked quizzically at her.

  She shook her head. “So, what’s the deal with the party?”

  “Our analysts say that it’s too good an opportunity for them to pass up. A chance to strike at the Oriceran ambassador and the Vice President in one spot? It has to be on their radar.”

  “What do they have against the ambassador?”

  He shrugged and spun the wheel into the next corner. “It seems like they’re mainly interested in gaining power and prestige. Having the ambassador in their grip would give them both in the eyes of the criminal underworld on both planets.”

  “Oriceran has a criminal underworld?”

  “Eh. Not really. But they do have a few who are not fond of the current arrangement and think power would rest better in other hands.”

  That sounds familiar. Different worlds, same issues.

  “So, they’ll strike at the party.”

  “We certainly think so. The thing is, it’ll be crawling with Secret Service since the VP will be present. We won’t be able to go in with our usual gear.”

  “That seems a little dangerous.” She frowned. “We won’t be unarmed, will we? Because that would be dumb.”

  He scoffed. “Of course not. We’ll be disguised as Secret Service agents with authentic IDs and everything.”

  “Well, at least we’ll get to carry a gun. Although, I’ve gotta tell you, these guys absolutely deserve the business end of a rifle.” She pictured the Kilomea and scowled.

  I hope he hates the prison food.

  “It’s not all bad, though. I said without our main gear. I didn’t say without any gear.”

  He swung into a parking spot near the unmarked door that led to the base. “Kayleigh and Ems have worked on some things for us. Let’s find out what they have.”

  Emerson beamed like the father of a newborn. Arrayed before him on his office desk were a bunch of strange-looking bullets and a box. He smiled at them. “Diana, Bryant, good to see you. Did you bring Rath?”

  Diana grinned at his eagerness to see the troll. The little fellow was apparently equally excited, as he jumped out of the
bag and ran up her arm, then did a somersault onto the table. The agents both laughed. “Yes, we brought him.”

  Emerson pointed at the troll. “I have some things for you, little guy.” He looked up at the others. “Kayleigh has things for you after that. But I wanted to handle this one personally.”

  He opened the box and withdrew a tiny armored chest piece, very similar to their tactical gear but in miniature. He held it out, and Rath stepped forward. Ems lowered it over his body and fastened it in place. The troll turned this way and that and admired the vest. “Good defense. Fighting mode.”

  Diana hesitated, then said, “Uh, Ems, you’re aware of his size thing, right?”

  The man was already digging in the box again, but looked up, momentarily startled. “Size? Oh, yes. Trolls grow. Right. On their own, or something about their bonded partner’s emotions, right?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “It’s Velcro. When he grows, it will simply fall off him.” He pointed at Rath again. “Try not to lose it, okay? Actually, I have a thing that might help with that.”

  He drew a belt from the box, complete with a number of attached pouches and a holster on each side. It was too big for Rath in his current form, so Ems set it on the table beside him. “This is for when you’re bigger. Perhaps Diana can keep it in her purse for you.” He looked up and she nodded. “It’s has a fair amount of fun stuff in the pockets, all appropriate to your size when you’re in—what was it called, fighting mode?” The troll nodded with a big grin.

  Emerson grinned affectionately at the tiny creature. “Yes, good. So, you will find some seriously cool stuff in there. And you might discover a use for these, too.” He withdrew two squat cylinders and slipped one into the holster on the right side of the belt. The other, he gripped between his fingers and flicked to extend the small collapsible baton to full length.

  “Ooh.” Rath’s eyes brightened and he made to touch it, but Ems withdrew it hastily.

  “Be careful where your hands go, little guy. It’s a stun baton. That stick will deliver a few electric shocks before you have to recharge it.”