Federal Agents of Magic Boxed Set

by T. R. Cameron

  Diana kept her eyes on his and maintained her neutral expression with some effort. “So, you don’t mind when criminals off each other?”

  Tony laughed. “Oh, hell no. They still have to go down. It simply doesn’t make me quite as upset as when someone shoots a civilian.”

  She let her body relax.

  Right answer.

  “Okay, last question. Why are you interested in leaving? You seem to have everything where you want it to be.”

  His face settled into the most serious expression she’d seen from him. “Sometimes, it feels like things are getting worse instead of better. More crimes and more murders, whether magic-related and not. People seem unsettled at the new reality of the worlds coming together, even though they’ve had plenty of time to wrap their heads around it.”

  She nodded.

  Tony continued. “If there’s a chance to diminish the flow of trouble at its source rather than downstream, that seems like a worthwhile useful endeavor. Plus, Samuels told me I’d be a moron to refuse.”

  “That doesn’t sound like Samuels.”

  He nodded a little sheepishly. “Okay, what he said was I’d be ‘a fucking lunatic moron’ to turn down the chance to join your team.”

  Diana burst into laughter. “Now that does sound like Samuels.” A line of text appeared on her glasses and momentarily distracted her. “Okay, I thought of one more. Have you done any bounty work?”

  “Nope. It’s not part of my job, and I’m a little too busy to hang out my own shingle.”

  “But you could certainly handle the investigative side of tracking them down, right?”

  He shrugged. “It’s what I do. I take the pieces and put them together until the picture makes sense.”

  She inclined her head as she read both his expression and body posture. “And when the picture makes sense, punch the person it reveals in the skull?”

  Tony grinned. “At the very least.”

  She shot a glance at Cara and smiled at the message that appeared in her lenses.

  Looks good.

  Diana turned back to him. “Okay, one more thing. Since you were an MP, I know you’re familiar with our weapons and paraphernalia. We’ll still run you through some tests to make sure your skills are sharp.”

  He nodded his agreement.

  “We’ll mix it up fairly often if recent history is to be believed. Is that a problem for you? I imagine the life of a homicide detective is a little slower paced.”

  “I hate to be bored.” His grin widened.

  She laughed and shook her head. “One thing I can guarantee, you will not be bored. You’re in—provisionally—if you want it.”

  “I can take a leave of absence from work without a problem.” He raised his cup in a toast. “Here’s to living in exciting times.”

  Chapter Eight

  Under cover of early morning darkness, Diana unlocked the front door of the security agency and swung it open to discover Bryant seated behind the desk. He fiddled casually with his phone, then looked up. “About time you got here, Sheen.” His grin showed legitimate warmth, however, rather than his usual teasing.

  Her own smile stretched her face enough that even she noticed it as she stepped into the room. “Missed you, too, BC.”

  He smiled at the old joke.

  “I thought you were still out of town for a week or two,” she observed casually.

  “True. But I felt it was worth the trip to see your first training run in the new space. When I heard you’d requested BAM folks to play the opposing force…well, I had to be here.” His jeans and t-shirt suggested he’d join in.

  “And here I thought it was my sparkling personality. Do you want to take a look?”

  He nodded and rose to join her as she walked to the otherwise unremarkable door that led to the back. A wave of her watch in front of the sensor popped a hidden wall panel open, and she typed in the code to unlock the door. As she was about to lead the way through, the main entrance behind them swung open, and the rest of her unit entered.

  Cara offered a bubbly, “Bryant, good to see you.”

  Tony walked forward and extended a hand. “Tony Ryan, newest team member.”

  “Bryant Bates, oldest team member.” The group laughed as they wandered into the rear of the building.

  When Diana had departed for DC, the base had been practically empty. Now, it was filled with a variety of rooms and goodies. The group stood in a preparation area that stretched to the back of the warehouse. A complicated computer terminal had been mounted on the wall near the entrance. It ran a custom ARES software program that created floor plans and structures based on strategic objectives. The people who installed it had set it up for their first run.

  The system gave orders to a pair of bright yellow autonomous forklifts parked in the middle of the preparation area against the wall, neatly centered within the slashed warning lines that marked their home bases. There was a note that cautioned against having humans on the training room floor beyond the safe zone while the forklifts did their work, as they had no particular programming to avoid living beings. Diana had made sure to file that under the very important things to remember section of her mind. The far side of the facility held lockers full of equipment arranged around several benches.

  The warehouse was filled with crates that had been stacked and attached with clever plates and grooves to maintain a sense of uniformity. These were a uniform dark-gray and were very sturdy without weighing a ton, which made it possible to arrange them in unique ways. Right now, they formed a solid barrier that cut off the remainder of the space, save for a single-file path that ran back six feet before it turned.

  They all moved to the equipping area, and Diana unlatched the mounted cabinets to display sets of army laser training gear. Bryant checked his phone and reversed course toward the door. “The rest of the OPFOR’s here.” He opened it to reveal Gillians and Johnson from the DC team. Diana crossed and exchanged fist bumps and hugs with both of them. Bryant frowned. “Why didn’t I get hugs?”

  Diana raised an eyebrow. “Go away for long enough that I miss you, and you might. In your case, maybe a few months. Possibly a year.”

  He laughed and touched his chest to acknowledge the point.

  She turned back to the newcomers. “I didn’t realize they’d send the A-Team.”

  The other woman grinned. The expression transformed her strong face from aggressive to warm. “When the word came in, there were plenty of volunteers.”

  Johnson added, “It turns out most of us liked the idea of checking out the new unit. Blackwood wanted to come, but we couldn’t be down both snipers at once.”

  Gillians nodded her agreement. “We’ve got HRT in place as backup and the ability to request PDA support if needed. Those folks aren't big fans of ours, though.”

  Bryant laughed. “That’s putting it mildly.”

  Diana frowned and asked, “Because of the lack of oversight?”

  “Right on target,” he affirmed.

  Johnson clapped his hands. “Speaking of targets, how about we get to the shooting?”

  She gestured for them to follow her back to the lockers. Her team had already donned the sensors, which strapped on above the knees and elbows, plus a chest piece and collar that would register strikes to the head. While the others suited up, fast-dressing Cara pulled a carbine from the wall and inspected it. “Pew, pew.”

  The room filled with good-natured laughter. Not only did this serve as a good test, but it also helped as a team-building exercise. Diana looked up from fastening her leg sensors. “I hope you guys can handle the high-tech nature of our gear. It’s not quite the same as being pounded by a paintball.”

  Gillians laughed. Her voice was low and appealing. “Pain is a good teacher, though.”

  Johnson nodded and grinned. “I bet you won’t forget to check for tripwires anytime soon after those claymores.”

  Diana scowled. Her first run at the ARES gauntlet still bothered her, mainly
because of her mistake, but she would never forget how painful that deluge had been as the pellets exploded over her body. “Maybe there’s a way to make the laser tag system reinforce the need to not do stupid things. Once we have a tech attached, we’ll look into it.”

  Meanwhile, Cara had pulled rifle magazines—batteries, actually—and a pistol and matching mags from the cabinet. She slotted each into the appropriate spot on the lightweight vests, belts, and thigh holders.

  In companionable silence, everyone geared up and were soon ready to rumble.

  Bryant grinned. “See you inside, kiddos. Go Team Red!” His partners echoed the call, and the three of them disappeared into the aisle created by the stacks of crates on either side.

  Tony looked doubtfully at them. “Are those things safe?”

  Diana laughed. “Very. They’re anchored to each other and the walls. They’ve been well tested, believe me.” During the visit to DC, Rath and Diana had visited the ARES training facility at Emerson’s insistence. The man had even gone so far as to escort them himself in a rare trip outside the bounds of his lab.

  The troll did more than simply visit. He ran through the course at three feet, then tried it at full size. The exercise proved an eye-opening experience as she watched the troll leap from crate to crate and climb and tumble. He was less acrobatic in his largest form, but at middle size, he maintained all the grace of his tinier self with more force added to his blows. At the end of the session, Emerson shook his head. “This will never do. You’ll need gear for your biggest form, too.”

  The troll had rewarded the scientist with a huge grin. “Is good. Must train.”

  Diana blinked to clear the memories and found her team staring at her with amused smiles. “Sorry. Woolgathering. Your fault for not bringing me coffee. What kind of subordinates are you?” They laughed and she grinned. “Okay, this scenario’s a simple one. We go in, we try to survive, and if we take them out before they take us out, we win. If the sensor goes off, you can’t use that limb anymore. If it’s your head or chest, you’re done.”

  Cara asked, “Only weapons? No hand-to-hand?”

  She triggered her comm system and spoke in the most casual and innocent tone she could muster. “Bryant, Cara wants confirmation that hand-to-hand is okay. It is, right?”

  His response came back immediately and enthusiastically. “Oh, hell no. We’ve all heard about what she did to that bounty.”

  Laughter sounded across the channel.

  Diana grinned. “Gotcha. Switching to team.” She flicked the selector and motioned her people to do the same. “Cara, you can be tactical lead on this one. We’ll mix it up throughout the session and probably run it at least once with each of us in charge, then switch sides and play defense.”

  Cara nodded. “All right. I’m first, Tony is second, and Diana third. If we find an intersection, I go forward, Tony takes left, Diana right.”

  “Remember that Johnson is a sniper,” Diana cautioned. “He likes to cause trouble from up high.”

  The other woman grimaced. “Enemy snipers suck. That’s a really good argument for getting at least one set of gear that causes pain. It’s not like we’d have to tell them ahead of time.”

  They laughed and advanced into the labyrinth. At an almost immediate right turn, Cara led them safely through it. A left followed, and she peeked her head around the corner. “There’s a short staircase made of crates, so we’ll have to either jump or climb.”

  Each crate was a two-foot square, so it wasn’t a ridiculous leap, but the day would certainly qualify as a leg day if they had to traverse many of them. She gestured to illustrate the scene with her hands. “Beyond it is what looks like an intersection—a perfect choice for an ambush. I’ll go through fast. You stay a beat or three back and see if they bite.” They climbed quietly up the stairs before Cara surged up the final one and raced to the crossed corridors ahead.

  The characteristic whine of a laser rifle sounded, but there was no answering buzz to signal a hit. Tony hurtled forward and to the left as instructed. Diana followed a step behind and focused on the right. She dropped when she saw the enemy, and the bolt intended for her nailed Tony as he turned to support her. Her triple-pull on her rifle’s trigger fired to strike Gillians at chest and shoulder, and the woman sat with a grin. “Nice shooting, Diana.”

  Tony stepped beside her. His arm hung dramatically. “Couldn’t you at least have killed me so I could get some rest?” They all laughed, and he set his rifle down and drew his pistol. “No reloads for me.” He swung the “dead” arm for emphasis.

  Cara’s voice crackled over the comm. “Enough playing. Let’s move.” They fell back into line, and their leader adjusted their order. “Diana, middle. The rifle-less can bring up the rear.”

  He shot her a grin.

  Diana was sure Bryant would have warned Johnson against using magic, which made her concern about the sniper that much greater.

  I can’t allow myself to depend on early warning, but it's nice when it happens.

  They advanced and the level appeared to widen at the end of the corridor.

  “It looks like a room ahead,” Cara whispered.

  Diana whispered, “Yeah. That’s not a good sign.”

  “I’m thinking run and gun since they probably have the sniper watching the entrance.”

  She nodded. “That's what I’d do.”

  Tony sighed. “I guess it’s time for me to be the action movie sidekick and sacrifice myself for the team.”

  Cara grinned. “You know it. In addition to being one of Hollywood’s favorite stories, it’s also sound strategy.”

  He moved to stand beside her. “Suggestions?”

  She patted him on the shoulder. “Run fast and keep running fast. It’s important to identify enemies and shoot them, especially the sniper, but don’t stop for anything. Find the room’s exit and reach it. Then, once you’re through, turn to eliminate anyone who follows.”

  Diana added, “As long as it isn’t us.”

  “Right,” Cara clarified with a laugh. “Please do not shoot your teammates.”

  Tony frowned. “Not even for fun?”

  She shook her head. “Go in five.” She counted down as he took position. The sound of laser weapons discharging followed as he pelted across the room. The marshal followed quickly, and Diana brought up the rear.

  She immediately raised her rifle and looked for Johnson. The barrel of his weapon protruded between two crates stacked high and to the right, but she couldn’t get an angle on him. She hurtled in that direction while Cara went left. Dimly registered shots were immediately followed by the sound of a fatal strike. Return fire rattled from her side, a different pitch than their foes’, and a shout of anger from Bryant put a smile on her face. A simultaneous beep declared a limb hit, and Cara cursed.

  Diana continued to track right as she sought the sniper. She wasn’t in time to stop his next attack. Another fatal shot chimed unmistakably, and Cara shouted an even louder curse. Diana thrust forward, acquired a target on Johnson in midair, and delivered a single shot to his head in the same moment he was visible. She’d already yanked her rifle around to eliminate Bryant when she landed, but he was nowhere to be seen.

  Bastard.

  She scrambled to her feet, kept her weapon trained on the doorway, and stopped beside Cara. Since she was dead, she couldn’t share any useful information such as where BC had been wounded. Diana popped her magazine and swapped it with a full one. Her eyes locked on the entryway. The smooth exchange took only seconds, and she glanced at Cara. A broad grin stretched across the woman’s face. “It’s always nice when work feels like play, isn’t it?”

  Diana laughed. “Enjoy it while you can.”

  She nodded. “My rule for living. Now, go shoot that jerk.”

  From the corner of the room, Tony moaned. “I’m also dead. Heroically, even. Doesn’t anyone care?”

  They laughed, and Diana followed her opponent’s only possible flight path. Th
e passage rapidly became a tunnel created by boxes stacked high overhead, and her senses protested the claustrophobic space. Her instincts told her she was about two-thirds of the way through the warehouse when an opening appeared ahead. She held her rifle trained forward as she stuck her head in to peer in all directions.

  It was a wide space littered with obstacles—some two crates high, and some three. She sprinted forward and flattened her back against one, noting as she did so that there was no exit other than the one she'd used.

  Unexpected. And bad. He could be behind any one of these boxes, waiting for me to make a mistake.

  She sifted through her options, which weren’t many, and surveyed the room. It seemed that the stacks were arranged three or four rows deep. The only real choice was to move along an outer wall so she could at least be protected from one direction. She looked up and considered climbing to the top of other close columns of crates. While she quickly discarded that plan as tactically unsound, she stored it away as a last-ditch option if she was ever really in such a situation.

  She stalked toward the right wall with her rifle trained forward and her ears open. When she reached the final stacked cover before it, she fished a spare pistol magazine awkwardly from her right thigh pouch with her left hand and took a breath. She flicked her weapon to auto fire and threw the magazine back the way she’d come, then dashed for the rear of the room. She raced through the first and second rows and found him in the third, already recovering from his instinctual reflex to turn toward the decoy.

  She depressed the trigger, and his suit registered a fatal shot. Bryant responded with a dramatic fall to the floor. She let her rifle dangle from its strap and crossed to where he lay turned on his side with his face down. Her laugh smug, she poked him with a foot to roll him over. “Okay, Bryant, that’s one to nothing for me.”