Federal Agents of Magic Boxed Set

by T. R. Cameron

  The troll clapped with glee. “I am the law.”

  They all laughed and the technician dipped back into the case a final time. “I have one more thing for you. Well, actually, two more things.” He extracted a pair of slender needles with ridging on one end. “You’re a little small for true swords, but these are wickedly sharp and made from virtually unbreakable carbon steel. They go into your vest like this.” He slid them down into an X-shaped holder mounted on the back. Rath reached over his shoulders and drew them to brandish the blades as he battled invisible enemies. He tried to sheath them but couldn’t quite manage it, and Ems took the weapons from him with appropriate gravitas. “It will come with practice, like all things, my friend.”

  “Rath. Emerson. Friends. Thank you. Must train.”

  Diana swept the belt and batons into her bag, and Rath followed with a yell and a leap. She shook her head. “Thank you, Ems. And especially, thank you for not giving him a gun.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “A troll-sized gun. That is an interesting concept. Let me start some sketches.”

  She rolled her eyes and he laughed at their backs as they departed.

  Kayleigh awaited them outside and waved for them to follow her to one of the central tables. “Okay, we’ve worked hard to have the stuff ready for all the team members, but those in the main room have priority. First, this.” She held a small pistol up.

  “Ruger?” Diana asked.

  The woman nodded. “Our police contacts tell us it’s the best backup weapon. And we’ve made it better.” She swung the cylinder out to show that it was filled with the bullets that had littered Emerson’s desk during Diana’s last visit. Closer inspection revealed that runes covered the visible surface. Diana looked up in confusion to see Bryant’s nod of approval and Kayleigh’s wicked grin. “Those are anti-magic rounds. Their shields won’t work nearly so well against them.”

  Bryant pulled one out and examined it. “For something so small, it’s amazing how expensive and hard-to-get these things are when you can’t simply requisition them. We’ve tried to arrange loadouts for the rifles for weeks. The government has priority on all of them, and even our FBI contacts can’t risk letting some go missing.”

  Kayleigh nodded enthusiastically. “Ems thinks he has a potential solution for that. A way to manufacture them in-house—or at least in partnership with those who developed the bracelets. The magic techs are working on it with him.” She didn’t quite smother the note of derision at the reference to her magical counterparts. “Anyway, you each get one and an ankle holster to go with it.” She passed the items over.

  “Next up, new vests.” She led them to a mannequin that wore a strange-looking thin Kevlar vest. Kayleigh gestured at it. “So, it has a ceramic lattice that will help dissipate force even better than a standard vest does. It still won’t do much against blades, though. We’re working on that.” She pointed at four patches, each set with a clear stone in the center. “These are magic deflectors. You’ll be able to wear the vest under everyday clothes relatively easily, which might come in handy.” She looked pointedly at Diana.

  The agent raised her hands. “I’m all for defenses, but I think a fireball has the potential to cook you regardless of whether it’s from a flamethrower or wizard.”

  Kayleigh grimaced. “Yes, dodging is probably still the best option where fireballs are concerned in case it overwhelms the defense. These should work against other kinds of magical attacks, though. Force, shadow, and possibly against magical creatures if they touch them. We haven’t tested the last one yet.”

  Bryant chuckled. “Hear that, Rath? Keep your hands to yourself.”

  A small, “Definitely,” came from her bag, and they all laughed. Bryant asked, “Is it only me, or has his speaking improved?”

  Diana rolled her eyes. “Not only you. At home, I can’t get him to shut up. He practices constantly.”

  “Now look at this,” Kayleigh interjected. She pointed at a flat piece of what looked like very flexible metal that ran over the vest, up and down the sides, around the anti-magic deflectors, and crossed over the shoulders and around the back. “This is an extra guard against electricity. If you are struck, this channels the current and lessens it with each resistor until they’re all popped.” She pointed, and Diana bent forward for closer examination. Sure enough, there were tiny little beads set into the metal at intervals. “In testing, it’s taken a few strong blasts. It might even handle actual lightning, but let’s not find out, okay?”

  Diana straightened. “Kayleigh, these are awesome.”

  The tech smiled, led them over to another table, and handed them each a pair of flattened canisters, similar to the pepper spray grenades.

  Bryant whistled. “It’s all the toys today, isn’t it? Sonic grenades?”

  She confirmed it. “We only have two for each team member right now, but we’re working on getting more. This is the one area where our lack of government affiliation hurts us. We have to find our own channels.”

  He nodded. “There’s more benefit to that than harm, though.”

  “Absolutely. Also, these.” She handed them each a case. Inside were earpieces cast from molds of their ears to ensure a perfect fit. “These replace your old ones. They have all the same functionality but can take a signal from the sonic grenades to adjust before they go off, exactly like the flashbangs.”

  Diana nodded. “I know this is a stupid question, but is there any chance of an earpiece and a comm for Rath?”

  “Earpieces, for his small form, probably. Obviously, they can’t grow with him, though, so we’d have to make a second pair and rig something to carry them. The good news is they’d simply fall out if he got bigger.” She pulled her phone out and made some notes. “Rath, can you come out here, please?”

  He bounced up onto the table and Kayleigh pressed a few more buttons. “Okay, hold still.” She held her phone near his ear, and red lasers emitted and traversed the side of the troll’s head. “Good, I have that one 3-D modeled. Let’s do the other.” When she was done, she looked at Diana. “We’ll have to do this again sometime when he’s bigger.”

  It’s not like I can simply switch it on.

  “I can’t really make that happen on purpose yet, and I don’t get the impression that he wants to do it on his own. You have to admit, he looks fantastic at that size.”

  Rath added, “Fantastic.”

  Diana shook her head. “We’ll have to wait for an opportunity to present itself.”

  Kayleigh grinned at the troll. “Good deal.” She turned to Bryant. “I need about five minutes more with Diana, but you’re free to go. The boss wants to see you.”

  Bryant smirked at Diana. “It’s difficult being so important, you know?”

  “You mean like when people need to constantly check and make sure you’re not screwing everything up? It must be.”

  Laughter rose around the table.

  Point to me.

  He shook his head, but the smirk didn’t vanish. “Well, you’ll have to wait for me since you damaged your car by cleverly being hurled into it. Way to distract him.”

  Another laugh from the table made her scowl.

  Okay, one to one.

  She was about to deliver a much more scathing comment when he wisely turned and walked away. Kayleigh led her into a small office about half the size of Emerson’s and gestured her to a chair. The tech sat on the other side of the shallow desk. “Okay, I have a few more presents for you. First, this.” She slid a pepper gas grenade to her to replace the one she’d used.

  “You should know it worked great. It kind of sucked for me, too, but I was ready for it. He definitely wasn’t, and it took him right out of the fight.”

  The woman clapped with real satisfaction. “I knew it would be useful. And it’s much cheaper to make than a sonic grenade. I’ll get some more under construction.” She reached below her desk and pulled out the most amazing objects yet—a pair of fashionable black ankle boots.

&nbs
p; Diana’s eyes went wide. “They’re lovely.”

  “I know, right? But they’re also awesome.” She tipped them on their sides and pointed out the features. “Ruger fits in here, on the right side of the right boot. On the other side, we have this.” She looped her pinky through a small ring and pulled. A stiletto as long as the boot was high slipped out. She swung it to settle it into her hand. “Triangular, carbon fiber, and ceramic. A nasty little bugger. You can do some serious damage with this.” She handed it over, and Diana held it up, marveling at its light weight and vicious point.

  “You give good presents.”

  Kayleigh laughed. “Now, the left one is more boring. It only holds these.” She used her index fingers again and caught the loops to withdraw two flat blades. “These are throwing knives, perfectly balanced. You’ll want to practice with them as they’re a little different than most. They’re also carbon fiber and ceramic, so metal detectors won’t sense them.”

  Diana shook her head in appreciation. “These are excellent. How did you know what I liked?”

  The woman leaned back and laughed as she lifted her own pair of identical ankle boots to the table. “We can always spot our own kind.”

  Diana laughed and nodded. She took the boots and slid them on, then stood to walk in them. “They’re perfect.” She turned to Kayleigh. “How are they perfect?”

  She shrugged with a smile. “I measured your feet when you stood on the scale in the locker room.”

  Her voice was a little too sharp as she replied, “Seriously?”

  Kayleigh didn’t sound apologetic in the least. “Data is everything, so we always get what we can. Within the bounds of reasonable privacy, of course.”

  Diana shook her head, then shrugged. “Well, I guess I can’t complain since it scored me a fantastic pair of boots. These may already be in my top four or five.”

  “We’ll have to compare notes sometime.”

  “We can make a day of it. Show off our stashes and maybe go on a little shopping spree.”

  The tech grinned like she’d just been invited to the prom, only better. “It’s a date. Oh, and by the way, try not to get killed or anything. The ones I’m prototyping now are twice as good. You’ll want to be around for them.”

  “If that’s not a reason to live, I don’t know what is.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Showtime. Diana took a deep breath, made sure Rath’s capsule was securely attached to her belt, and stepped into the dining room.

  The hotel was one of DC’s oldest and managed to convey an old-world charm despite the monitors on every wall and the modern lighting that replaced the elegant chandeliers. The dining room was set banquet style, with round tables of eight and ten populated by upper-level politicos. Admission to the event started at four figures, with some paying five for access to the ambassador and six to add the vice president. All were listed as political donations, of course.

  She heard a soft growl, muffled by the canister, and patted her hip. Ems had added a small angled mirror so Rath could see what went on around him, and she pictured the troll reviewing each detail greedily. Every new Earth experience seemed to entrance him.

  We’re probably a tough bunch to figure out. Political stuff, especially.

  Diana walked a slow circuit of the room and kept the board-agent expression they taught at the Academy on her face—not aggressive, not dismissive, merely casually interested. She made a discrete inventory of her gear as she paced. Her Glock was comforting in its shoulder holster with its spare magazines on the opposite side and weight balanced exactly as it should be. She wore a jacket specially tailored to conceal the rig and had left it unfastened so it wouldn’t betray the magazine pouches on the back of her belt that held the sonic and pepper grenades. Rath rode on one hip, and a flashbang rested on the other.

  She’d worn the boots Kayleigh had provided her more or less since the moment she’d received them. When the elderly men who ran the antique shoeshine stand in the lobby remarked on them, she’d given in and stopped for a shine. They’d professed no special knowledge of the night’s event and encouraged her to make a good shine part of her daily routine. If they noticed the knives or the gun that were reasonably well hidden by her pant legs, they didn’t acknowledge them.

  Those guys have probably seen everything.

  Calm but alert, she flicked her gaze across the room and to where Bryant kept pace on a diameter line from her position. Three BAM agents were present, along with a ton of Secret Service. The team’s face, Trent, posed as a statie again and made the rounds of the tables, seemingly immune to the annoyed stares of those not interested in his networking efforts. He really was very good at being annoying.

  He might be a decent match for Lisa, after all. Certainly better than Steve, anyway.

  Diana suppressed a snort.

  The edges of the room were concealed with black pipe and drape, and she made it a point check behind them at every break in the fabric. It was attractive but would allow enemies to position themselves out of sight. She raised her smartwatch, which acted as a comm when they couldn’t wear throat mics. “The drapes concern me.”

  Taggart’s voice was reassuringly crisp in her ear. “Our advance team felt the same. They planted wireless cameras at the corners. We have eyes on the gaps.”

  At least the comms work well.

  She frowned. “Good enough resolution to distinguish friend from foe?”

  A pause followed, and Taggart replied, “Iffy. I’ll mention it to the Service.”

  Diana let it drop. As long as someone was on it, whether ARES or Secret Service, she could put it into the routine check part of her mind. She turned left to walk the front of the room. The six-figure-folks were clustered around the frontmost tables and shared common qualities—fashionable men, glittery women, and all with the hungry look of people with a purpose. Exactly what you’d expect. The stage was raised three steps off the floor, and a thick podium stood to house left, swathed in spotted illumination that displayed the seals of the Oriceran consulate and the United States.

  Bryant’s words sounded as if he stood next to her, even though he still paced at the back of the room. “I like nothing about this.”

  Taggart’s response was instant. “When do you ever like anything, Bryant?”

  He didn’t rise to the joke, which worried her more than any words that might follow. “There are some people at these tables who read wrong to me. They’re harder than those around them.”

  She made another turn to the far side of the room and saw what he meant. At the nearest table, eight of the guests struck her as normal DC types. Dedicated politicos who kept fit, maybe even were true gym rats, but all only to look pretty in service of their careers. The other two, seated side-by-side, seemed more solid, both physically and in the attitude they presented. The pair caused her inner voice to take notice in a way that their tablemates did not.

  Diana raised her left hand and touched the tiny protrusion on the side of her AR glasses. A high-resolution still image of the couple uploaded to one of the high-speed wireless receivers they’d planted throughout the hotel’s first floor and forwarded to the mobile command post parked a block away. There was a brief delay while the techs did their work, and she checked her watch. Six fifty—ten minutes until the ambassador should arrive and forty until the Vice President threw the place into lockdown. One of the team in the bus was responsible for tracking their arrivals, and his young voice provided updates every few minutes. All signs suggested that both would arrive on time and as planned.

  After three minutes of pacing, a tech’s voice rose, young and excited over the line. She had a little Boston in her accent but not enough to distract. “Okay, those two are currently listed as principals with Alpha Dog security consulting.”

  Diana turned her laugh at the ridiculous name into a discreet cough. “Seriously?”

  She could hear the matching amusement in the tech’s voice. “The security companies are subtle, right
? Anyway, they seem legit, but have also been tagged as being in the employ of some questionables.”

  “Oricerans?” Bryant asked.

  “Wait one.” The channel was quiet for a moment and when the tech returned, she sounded a little more serious than she had before. “No Oriceran connection in the records, but they apparently have been linked to some really questionable ops. Their most recent press release includes a mention of working for Bloomten International—which, if you dig deep enough, is associated with some of the contractors the government hammered for looting overseas.”

  Diana deliberately made no effort to look at them but scanned the tables ahead as she turned the corner at the back. “So, scumbags.”

  Her partner agreed. “Scumbags who have unexpectedly turned up at a thousand-dollar-a-plate event with some seriously high-profile VIPs.”

  Taggart sounded concerned but calm. “We’re getting pictures of everyone and running them through now.”

  Bryant peeked behind the drape across the way before his gaze returned to the room. “Why didn’t we flag these guys at the checkpoint?” The Secret Service had agreed to use ARES equipment to screen the guests as they entered the dining room. It included the same sensing suite as the base, plus facial recognition through every government database ARES had access to either legitimately or through back doors.

  Taggart clearly wondered the same thing. “They either didn’t come through—which is almost impossible—or they did something to defeat that security. We have no record of them entering through the checkpoint.”

  Bryant’s voice was a low growl. “I see at least eight more paired up that seem out of place, plus a few more questionable folks who look like they’re flying solo. We should abort.”

  The SAC was decisive. “Not a chance. We don’t have that power. Only the Service can call it off.”

  “Convince them.” Diana couldn’t remember hearing such weight in the agent’s voice before.

  “I’ve suggested it and they refused. The VP won’t do it.”