Federal Agents of Magic Boxed Set

by T. R. Cameron

  “Roof access?”

  He led her back to the offices and pointed to a small closet. When she opened it, she found a shallow area only slightly larger than the ladder inside that led to a trapdoor above. “Nice.”

  Bryant nodded. “It has full security, of course. No one will get in that way unless they’re one of us. We had hoped to reinforce the structure so we could land a helicopter on top of it, but no dice. If you want to leave by air, you’ll have to climb up to the bird or dangle.”

  She’d already anticipated that and ran her fingers through the black straps on the climbing harness attached to the wall. “It seems like everything a team of agents could need. You even gave us a coffee bar.”

  He laughed. “Uh, no. We’ll get you an espresso machine. You should rarely be seen in the cover business.”

  Diana backhanded him on his abdomen. “I’m not an idiot.”

  “But you do have a fierce coffee addiction.”

  “Touché.”

  Bryant grinned. “Let’s go see the other location.” They emerged onto the parking level again and he pressed a button on his watch. A nearby sedan beeped, and its headlights flashed to acknowledge receipt of the command signal. They entered the vehicle and it started with another tap of his watch. He opened his mouth to speak, but she interrupted.

  “Let me guess. We own a limousine service or car rental agency.”

  “Right on target, Agent Sheen.” He laughed easily. “The cars should change on a fairly regular basis, but there will always be one for each of the agents on the team parked here, gassed up and ready to go.”

  She shook her head as they emerged from the parking garage and drove the short distance to the city’s strip district, where wholesale vendors of every variety competed for business. As the GPS led them through the turns, Bryant cleared his throat. “So, we have a good second-in-command candidate for you.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that. Tell me more.”

  “Cara Binot. Total ball-buster. Former army, I think. Now, she’s a US Marshal and has a solid blend of skills and potential.” He took the street closest to the river past a long warehouse along the left and a series of restaurants and nightclubs housed in converted warehouses on the right.

  “Magic?” Diana liked the sound of her already.

  “Unknown, actually, but she’s so good that even if she doesn’t have it, she’s still worth a look.” He pulled in at the end of the row, and they jogged up the short flight of stairs to the cement loading dock that extended the full length of the front of the long building.

  She studied the area and noticed several restaurants that seemed worthy of her patronage. “When do I get to meet her?”

  “She’ll fly in tomorrow.” He fumbled in his pocket for his keys.

  Diana clapped briskly. “Excellent. The faster, the better.”

  He withdrew a key from his pocket and unlocked the very ordinary-looking door. They walked inside, and she whistled, then smiled as the echoes of their footsteps bounced around the room. The space was at least two stories high at the lowest part of the angled roof. The cement floor was broken only by a tiled area at the entrance. None of the flooring was fresh, but it clearly wasn’t original, either. The material gave a satisfying click against her boot heels.

  Bryant spread his arms wide. “Voila. The home of your brand spanking new security consulting and bounty hunting division.”

  She spun in circles to admire the high ceilings and the tall, narrow windows that covered most of the second story to admit the sunlight. The way the dirty panes filtered the light lent the location an old-time feel. “It’s fantastic, actually.” She turned to him and smirked. “Someone with taste must have chosen this location, which leaves you out.”

  “True enough.” His laugh was genuine and perhaps a little sheepish. “We worked through a local real estate agent.” He gestured at a space that included the tile plus a dozen feet in each direction. “This front area can be the office. That will leave you the remainder of the building to outfit for training as we discussed.”

  “Perfect. Now, all I lack is the money to do it. Give me your credit card.”

  Bryant took a step back and swiveled the pocket that likely held his wallet away from her. “You have access to the startup funds you need. Keep it reasonable, and there shouldn’t be any problem. But if you want true financial independence, get your security side up and running.”

  Diana folded her arms and narrowed her gaze. “But, naturally, don’t slack on the main job while I do it.”

  “Of course.”

  “There won’t be much time to have a life with this gig, will there?”

  He shrugged and immediately dropped the playful grin in favor of a grim stare. “You’re in charge, now. Those decisions are yours. You need to do what’s essential in the short-term and what’s best for the long-term. Burning yourself or your people out is not a good plan.”

  “That’s…actually pretty heavy.” She frowned. “Speaking of agents, assuming Cara works out, I still need someone who knows investigation and the town to make the security side work.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Any thoughts on that?”

  “No idea. You’re the boss now. Figure it out.” He shrugged and smirked.

  Chapter Three

  “Max. Go.”

  The main door of the house Diana had rented in the Oakland area east of downtown was far easier to open than the one in their other home had been. It had only a single bolt lock, with none on the handle. Rath waved at the small camera on the wide covered porch before he and his Borzoi mount descended the stairs to the street.

  It was a strange neighborhood, quite unlike the other. Maple and white oak trees lined the hill where their house stood, and families with children lived all around instead of the many men and women in suits and dresses.

  “Must protect,” Rath said and patted Max on the back. The dog barked joyfully and paused to check scents every few feet. He was clearly as committed as the troll to this vital matter of protecting his neighbors.

  As they followed the sidewalk down the slope, the residential section melted away to be replaced by wide streets filled with cars and lined with businesses. A constant stream of bodies moved in all directions—many more than where they used to live. Diana called the place a university, but Rath hadn’t really grasped what that meant until he saw it for himself.

  It was fantastic. People of every description walked and socialized everywhere, some together and some alone. He imagined what it would be like when the weather warmed and grinned. “Many adventures. Must train.”

  Ahead, a towering form resembled an over-tall castle keep. It reminded him of Oriceran, and he tapped to steer the dog toward it through the currents of people. Grass surrounded the building on three sides, and they circled it to be sure they had identified all the access points. Finally, they came to a stop in front of the main entrance, where a set of broad stairs rose to meet a series of rotating doors that Rath didn’t trust.

  He patted Max, who immediately sat in response. “We wait. Patience is key to all things.”

  The troll had spent the previous day watching the kung fu channel, which he was excited to find in the new house. With the assistance of that and various other movies, he had learned many wise life lessons that he looked forward to applying in combat.

  After a short delay, the self-opening normal doors at street level parted to allow a woman with a cane to emerge. Max dashed into the building, careful not to interfere with her progress.

  Rath called, “Thank you,” and received a hesitant wave in return.

  An open staircase located immediately on the duo’s right led up to the main floor. It was gray stone all over, and very high in its construction—it stood at least fifteen Maxes high. The Borzoi mount padded quietly through the space and took care not to disturb the people who sat at the many tables with the open books strewn about them. A strange combination of happiness and despair hung in the air. A wom
an suddenly threw her hands up with a small moan and dropped her face into the book in front of her with a clunk. Rath was ready to ask her what was wrong when someone spoke from nearby.

  The voice was calm, warm, and patient.

  She must watch the kung fu channel, too.

  “They’re studying for midterms. It makes them miserable. Not like in my day.” He gazed to his left to discover a woman in a large skirt and button-down shirt grinning down at him. She wore a pretty silver necklace with an oval pendant, and her straight blonde hair that cascaded down her back was restrained by a thin elastic band. She patted the table in invitation.

  Rath dashed to the end of the Borzoi’s long nose. “Gentle, Max. Launch.” The dog flicked his head, and the troll performed a single somersault on the way up to land on the table beside her books. The woman clapped, which startled students nearby and sent echoes around the common room. “Very nice moves, my friend. What’s your name?”

  “Rath.”

  She nodded as if he’d confirmed a thought. “One of the deadly sins. I imagine you’re no end of trouble.” She laughed—at herself, he assumed, as he was most certainly not a laughing matter. “Mine is Charlotte Stanford. I’m a professor here. I study Oriceran history and it's given me some insight into what troublemakers trolls can be.”

  He grinned. “Good to meet you.”

  “Same to you.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice a little. He caught a scent that made his nose twitch.

  Spicy perfume. Nice.

  “I haven’t seen you around before. I’m sure I would’ve noticed.”

  He nodded. “New here. House on hill.”

  Charlotte smiled. “Well, welcome to the University of Pittsburgh, then. Call it Pitt. We all do. What are you and your friend up to?” She gestured at the dog, who had shifted out of the path of shuffling students to lie beneath her chair. Rath scowled at him, and Max stretched and sighed contentedly under the accusing glare.

  “Recon. Max must train.”

  She gave a single decisive nod. Clearly, she understood the importance of training.

  Definitely watches the kung fu channel.

  “He seems more interested in napping at the moment.”

  Rath nodded sadly. “Max needs energy.”

  The professor laughed and fumbled in her bag. “It just so happens that I didn’t finish my lunch today. I have two pierogies left. Would you each like one?”

  The troll tilted his head, a little dubious despite his excitement at the thought of food. “Pi-roe-gee?”

  “It’s pasta with potato and cheese inside. Well, sometimes, there’s other stuff, but I’m a purist.”

  “Mmm. Cheese.”

  She took that for the affirmative it was and handed him the treat. It was about two-thirds his size, so he nibbled at the edge. He actually enjoyed the chewy texture of the outer shell and once he reached the filling, it was even better.

  “Thank you. Max can have?”

  Charlotte passed the other down to the dog. He gulped it greedily in a single bite and gave her a grateful lick on the hand as a reward. Or, possibly, to get any residue off her fingers, but she didn’t seem to mind.

  Rath was only a quarter through his but didn’t want to give his partner time to fall asleep again. “Can keep for later?”

  She nodded and laughed. “Of course. Here.” She used the waxy paper she had taken the food from and helped him to cover what remained. Her gaze flicked to the large clock at the apex of a stone arch. “I have to go teach my class, Rath. I’d love to talk with you again, though. I’m on the eleventh floor if you want to visit me sometime.” She gestured at the bank of elevators across the room.

  “Will. Thank you.”

  He looked down and shook his head. His partner now sprawled in a manner that indicated his intention to sleep. “Max. Let’s go.” The Borzoi stood slowly, stretched, and moved to the side of the table. Rath jumped and his balance was off due to the large treat he carried under his arm, but he recovered quickly. The woman laughed as they renewed their exploration.

  The troll patted his trusty steed’s neck. “Max. Good dog. Continue recon.”

  Rambo would never get distracted by food. Food is for later. Now is for training.

  Diana waited impatiently in the sunny lobby of the Coworking building. A different guard now sat at the desk. Keith seemed like Larry in most respects. Apparently, five guards in total took shifts to cover the twenty-four-seven access the company provided to its clients—another useful piece of subterfuge, Bryant had pointed out. Diana wasn’t buying it.

  This hiding out in the open could easily come back to bite us.

  She caught motion in her peripheral vision as a tough-looking woman navigated the revolving door. Diana focused on her and blinked decisively. Her AR glasses responded to the command immediately and snapped an image to check against the woman’s file. Positive match flashed on the far right of her display.

  At least the data encoder and wireless are working.

  Not much else was. At least, not yet. She knew her frustration was a symptom of her enthusiasm to get moving, but that didn’t make it any easier.

  Cara Binot’s scrutiny worked systematically from right to left to analyze her surroundings. The signs of rigid training and discipline were easily recognizable. It had taken Diana a long time to break that habit after she entered the FBI. It was too big a tell for targets who knew what to look for.

  She was taller than Diana—naturally. Everyone was taller than her. The woman made no hurried movement and simply took time to categorize everything and everyone as threat or non-threat. When the candidate finished her assessment, Diana stepped forward and extended a hand. “Cara? I’m Diana.”

  The woman smiled and took the offered hand in a strong grip. Her long black hair fell in unkempt waves over her shoulders, and dark eye makeup set off the thin nose and pale pink lips below. A burst of laughter immediately followed from both women as each sought to refrain from indulging their reflexive instincts. Diana gestured at the elevator bank. “Let’s head upstairs.”

  The black espresso machine on the credenza burbled and saturated the air with the smell of dark roast as the pair took in the view. Diana filled two mugs that featured the cover company’s logo, left both free of sugar and cream, and handed one to her guest. She chose a chair on the far side of the table, and Cara took the seat on the end nearest her.

  The woman perched on the edge of her chair with the rigidity only a soldier could master. Diana straightened her spine to match. “So, Cara, thank you for coming. I’ve heard a few things about you, but how about you help fill in the blanks for me?”

  Cara nodded, took a sip of her coffee, and set it on the table. “Basic background, I’m Army. I completed basic training and advanced individual training in infantry at Fort Benning.” She hesitated as if waiting for a response, then continued. “Did airborne school, then joined the Marshals. Along the way, I grabbed an online degree in sociology from Central Florida.”

  “Sociology? I would’ve guessed criminal justice, or maybe military history.”

  Cara grinned. “My mother would say it’s because I hate being predictable.” She shrugged and her eyes gleamed with what could have been a private joke. “Mainly, I thought it would be useful to study why groups of people do the things they do and interact in specific manners. Psychology was a possibility, but I found it was too individually focused.”

  Diana nodded. “What’s your day-to-day like with the Marshals?”

  “I’m in the special operations group. We apprehend or eliminate fugitives in addition to standard investigations.”

  It confirmed what she'd seen in the file. The fact that she didn’t emphasize exactly how good she was—very good, by all accounts—was a point in her favor. “Have you faced any magic?”

  Cara laughed. “It’s hard to avoid in this day and age, isn’t it? Sometimes, our targets have magical support. At other times, we’re invited to take on bounties when there�
��s no one else around to handle it.”

  Diana perked up. “Give me an example.”

  The candidate took another sip and eased her posture in the chair to make herself a little more comfortable. “Okay, this jerk wizard down in South Carolina had set himself up in a dilapidated old plantation building and ran a fight club out of it. Ordinarily, that would’ve been fine.” She shook her head and corrected herself. “Well, not fine, obviously, but not squarely in the Marshals’ purview. The fact that he actively recruited people on our wanted list made it ours to deal with. Even then, it might not have risen to an immediate priority, except he cheated. Once someone had won through the brackets and expected their reward, he tossed in the little wrinkle that they had to battle him to be paid, with no rest and directly after their winning bout. He killed three of them with fire before we got word.”

  She nodded, took a sip of her brew, and waited for the applicant to continue.

  Cara shrugged. “Anyway, we went in for a capture, but he fought and burned the building to ash around us. We were forced to take him out.”

  “We?” Diana pressed.

  “Okay, I was forced to take him out. The bastard would’ve killed us otherwise. We were lucky to be in range of his protective runes. The downside of that meant we were in range of all his other spells, too. It was only the anti-magic rounds that saved me.”

  Diana nodded as she recalled her own previous encounters with stubborn mages.

  If ARES can’t find a supplier soon, I’ll need to go out of house for those. Someone is intercepting our deliveries. But who’s the traitor? She shook her head. I can’t think about that now.

  “What level was he?”

  “Three. He probably should have been a four, considering how well he trapped his home against unwanted intrusion. Taking on a bad guy in his stronghold always sucks.”

  Diana grinned. “Sociology?”

  Cara shook her head. “Military history.”

  The two shared another laugh at the brief exchange before Diana stood and refilled their mugs. “So, you’ve had the brief about ARES and what we’re up to, yes?”