Federal Agents of Magic Boxed Set

by T. R. Cameron

  Dreven waved a hand. “Magic, treasure, force—do what you must. Our time in the shadows is at an end. This action will be the true unveiling of the Remembrance. Today, the worlds will learn of us. Tomorrow, they will fear us. Soon, they will serve us.”

  He nodded. Chills coursed through him at the weight of the threats implicit in those words. “Yes, master.” The image dissolved, and his fingers trembled in anticipation as he returned the coin to its hidden pocket. He crossed to the safe and spun the dial carefully. It took him two attempts to successfully open it.

  He set the statue back in its home, then unfolded the black cloth and withdrew the artifact that had intrigued him most. The object was a piece of flat metal adorned with small jewels to represent the eyes and scales of a snake. It was a thing of beauty, as gorgeous as any artwork he had ever seen. He carried it reverently to the desk and sat, unable to pull his gaze away from the item.

  “Now, where to put you for the bonding?” he muttered. Most selected arms, but Pittsburgh summers were hot and he didn’t want to be restricted to long sleeves.

  Unless the artifact enables me to regulate my temperature.

  He chuckled at himself. There was no telling what powers might be gained, but he was fairly sure that something so mundane would not be at the top of the list. Finally, he unbuttoned his shirt and leaned back.

  He placed the snake diagonally across the hard muscles of his stomach. Nothing happened, and he considered that maybe he should’ve asked his superior for instructions. He sent his intention to the item with a mental plea.

  Come on. Whatever you require, I will provide. Together, we will show these humans what magic power truly is.

  Vincente screamed as the artifact came to life and sank into his skin. He felt like his stomach had been bathed in acid. His hands clenched on the arm of the chair as he held himself rigid and struggled to control his thrashing as much as possible. The burning spread throughout his body, and he growled and hissed to vent his frustrations.

  Worth it. It…will…be…worth it!

  He had no idea how much time had passed. All he knew was that the pain had finally ceased. Once this fact seeped into his consciousness, he panted and stood unsteadily, then wiped the sweat from his brow. The angry red skin on his stomach faded to reveal an incredibly realistic tattoo of a snake. The head pointed directly at his heart as if reminding him of his mortality. He nodded, and his voice emerged in a hoarse whisper. “Believe me, I am well aware.”

  New strength surged through him with every step as he crossed to the tall windows. He stared at the broken remains of his teams and the prideful stances of his seconds as they worked with their people. The image of the battle ahead brought a grin to his face. “We’ll need fresh blood.”

  The artifact throbbed an agreement, and a sibilant, Yesssss, hissed through his mind. Time to cause some trouble.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The narrow alley ran between the rear facades of short apartment buildings on either side. Needless to say, it wasn’t a place for cars to play chicken. Diana hoped devoutly that no such traffic would arise as she moved in a crouch behind Tony to remain below the top of the four-foot-high wall that ran along the left-hand side.

  Her comm came to life with Cara’s voice. “In position in the front. No sign of activity.”

  Diana tapped her glasses to register a double-click in response. All three had assumed their bounty hunter disguises. Their official IDs had come through only days before and displayed the faces created by their illusion necklaces. They worked cover stories up that earned Cara and Diana class-three licenses and a class-four for Tony. They decided that would be a range high enough to apprehend the targets they selected but low enough to not attract unwanted attention.

  The bounty was one they’d arranged based on information gleaned from the battle at the museum. SWAT had recorded the image of an enemy who fled the scene, and they tapped into the city’s surveillance grid to find her. Tony stopped at the end of the wall, and Diana whispered, “Nice job getting this witch set as a bounty, Tony.”

  He sounded pleased but dismissive of his own success. “It’s legit. She’s clearly a menace. Someone should get paid. The police chief says it’s federal dollars at this point, anyway. But it does mean we need her alive.”

  “Pity,” Cara replied.

  Diana hefted her nonlethal rifle. Its weight was annoyingly noticeable.

  We’ll have to make some custom lookalikes that weigh less.

  “Hooray for stun guns. Final check.” She looked down to ensure the AR-15 was properly strapped across her chest. The Sig-Sauer rode at her right hip. Since she’d had to leave her favorite boots behind after Cara had pointed out they were unique enough to be identifiable, the Ruger was tucked into a waistband holster at the small of her back. The others were similarly equipped. Each also wore a dark-blue button-down with the security company’s logo on it—two solid circles in red and black—that mostly overlapped to cover the ARES vests underneath.

  Tony had prepared the brief for the op, so it was his task to review it before they went in. “So, the expectation is that Susan Cheri—clearly an alias—is inside.” Diana laughed quietly at their target’s name choice, while Tony continued. “She owns the building and lives on the top floor. There are two apartments on the second level and another two on the first, plus storage in the basement.”

  “Residents?” Diana asked.

  “The last one left about twenty minutes ago,” Cara interjected. “Recon from the last couple of days puts them all at either work or school. We have about an hour before the early shift usually gets back.” They’d done their homework this time and mounted cameras all around the location several nights before.

  “If my contact at the PD is accurate, we have at least five on the top floor,” Tony warned.

  “I wish that drone was still here,” Cara complained.

  She could almost hear the shrug in Tony’s voice. “Any longer and the deviation from its planned route would’ve been noticed. At least it gave us a good, if quick, look inside the windows.”

  “We need our own drones.”

  Diana sighed. “I’ll add it to the list.”

  Tony grinned over his shoulder at her. “And someone to run them.”

  She shook her head. “Stop. Let’s get to this, preferably before my head explodes from all your complaining. There’s nothing here to change our plan, so Tony and I will go up the back to the top floor and enter that way. Cara, keep your eyes open while you clear the lower floors. There’s no guarantee we have the whole picture here.”

  The ex-marshal’s voice was all business. “Affirmative.” After the museum battle, Cara and Tony had made the choice to resign from their other positions.

  I couldn’t have chosen better people.

  Diana led the way up the rear staircase, which switched back on itself in the middle of each story. The wooden planks were old, weather-beaten, unpainted, and unstained.

  Maybe we can add poor landlording to her charges.

  She snorted internally as she imagined how Lisa would jump at the chance to do the same to her.

  They ascended to the top of the basement level before she found the first trap—a simple tripwire attached to a collection of tin cans hanging nearby. It was more an alarm system than a death machine, but it would still cause problems if someone triggered it. She pointed it out to Tony and stepped over the wire. Her AR glasses identified the infrared beams stretched across at rib and shin height about halfway to the landing. Fortunately, they were at least able to afford the tech necessary to take care of this one. Compared to the magic deflectors, the sticky reflectors were a dime a dozen. She applied the two devices simultaneously to each side, first low, then high, to turn the beam back on itself.

  The staircase connecting the second level to the third was where things became truly dangerous. She found the alarm trap easily but almost missed the next tripwire, which was attached to a grenade.

  Dam
n. I hope the lower ones dissuade any ordinary burglar from making it this far. Getting hit with an explosive when you’re simply trying to do a simple B&E could really ruin your day.

  Time slowed with her next step, and she looked around carefully. Her foot froze in midair. She sensed a vibration from the stair she was about to traverse—a shimmer maybe?—and pulled her leg back.

  Alert and focused, she peered at the step from every angle she deemed safe but couldn’t identify the danger. She decided avoiding it was the smart way to go, and time resumed its normal speed. “Trap on the next step. We’ll jump over, then move fast in case it’s bigger than we think. Stay right on my six and put your feet where I do.” He nodded but looked appropriately nervous.

  Cara’s voice crackled over the comms. “Basement is clear. Moving up to the first floor.”

  Diana swung to face the proper way, took a deep breath, and jumped over the troubled stair. She pounded up the rest of the flight in a rush, then switched directions on the platform. The grip on her stun rifle was rigid and unyielding as adrenaline surged with her heartbeat. Time slowed again, and another step looked suspicious. She repeated the procedure and leapt over it and the one after that for good measure. Tony arrived safely on the top platform a moment after she did.

  Identical entries stood on each side of the building’s centerline, a mirror-image remnant of when the top floor was divided into two separate living spaces. It was a clever renovation that allowed for two avenues of escape. If they hadn’t found the details on the construction permit for the place, they wouldn’t have known, and the witch might have been able to escape. The doors looked thin and flimsy. In short, it was obvious that they were trapped.

  Diana lifted a chair that rested along the wall near the left door and set it under the slightly open kitchen window at the edge of the building. She examined it quickly for traps, both magical and otherwise, saw none, and slid the opening up with a small squeak. After a brief pause to listen intently, she clambered in, crouched on the counter, and made sure the room was clear before she lowered herself soundlessly to the floor. Tony did the same, albeit a little more noisily, but they needn’t have worried. A loud television deeper in the apartment effectively drowned out the noise of their entry. She triggered her mic. “Safe entry.”

  It sounded like a cooking show was playing in the next room. She pushed it from her mind.

  I really don’t need tips on barbecue recipes right now, thanks.

  A persistent mental voice wondered where to find the best barbecue in town. An unspoken command corralled it as she focused on the mission again. They advanced cautiously with their rifles held ready for instant action. The straps provided additional stability.

  She withdrew a small mirror from her pocket. It was a far cry from the fiber-optic gear ARES used, but it would suffice. She angled it to look around the corner. A large dining area stood on the right, with china cabinets and a rectangular table that could easily seat eight. It had only one visible occupant, a tough-looking man with a pistol in pieces on the surface before him.

  Two men whose builds screamed muscle argued about the virtues of charcoal versus gas grills. The witch was nowhere in sight. Diana turned and pointed at Tony, slashed her hand to the right, and extended her index finger. He nodded and positioned himself for a dash into the next room. She held up three fingers, then two, then one, and the two agents moved together.

  Diana fired at the goon on the couch nearest her as she rounded the corner. The discharge struck him before he had a chance to react. His head lolled back onto the cushion. The other man was quicker than she expected and had turned to face the intruders. Her rifle clicked to signal a full charge, and she pulled the trigger again. The bolt tumbled the target over the side. The whine of Tony’s weapon was followed by a solid thump, and she turned swiftly. His opponent had apparently pushed his chair over backward to escape and cracked his head on the floor. The agent fired at the downed form to be on the safe side. The small pool of blood that seeped around the man’s skull left little room for worry, however.

  This was the part of the plan Diana loathed. Stunning was all well and good when the enemy didn’t actively try to kill you but was far less fun when they did. Shouts and footsteps raced along the halls in their direction, and they both took cover. She fled behind the couch, while he ducked behind one of the table legs farthest from the entrance to the hallway that led deeper into the unit.

  The front door slammed, and Diana said, “We may have a runner.”

  “On it,” Cara assured her.

  A woman’s loud voice yelled orders and curses, which suggested that their quarry was still present. A trio of pistol-wielding troublemakers barreled into the room, two in biker jackets and the third shirtless—and not in possession of a physique that would call for casual nudity. Diana disabled him first for making her eyes suffer.

  Tony spun out briefly from his cover, but one of the others fired in his direction and he ducked into the minimal protection the table provided once more. The other man trained a pistol on Diana.

  She hurled her stun rifle up on its strap to swing it around to rest on her back. With that safely stowed, she extended both hands and yanked the firearm away from one adversary with her telekinesis, while she released a brilliant line of force out with the other to strike his partner. The weaponless man demonstrated good reflexes by charging her while the other staggered into the wall behind him.

  Tony rose again and fired at the one who hurtled toward her, but his shot went wide and struck the television. The device immediately sparked and the screen shattered. The enemy leapt over the couch and hauled his arm back in readiness for a punch. Diana reacted instinctually. She swept both her hands from right to left as force and telekinesis combined to launch her opponent and keep him airborne until he slammed into the wall behind her. She turned to finish him, but a stun blast from Tony’s gun beat her to it and the man went limp. Tony spun and eliminated the one in the hallway as the man struggled to regain his feet.

  Laughter sounded from deeper in the apartment. “Such violence. It’s so unnecessary. Why do you invade my home?”

  The witch stepped into view. She was tall, almost skeletally thin, and appeared to be close to what, for a human, would be the age of retirement. Long gray hair hung in scruffy waves down to her shoulders, and she wore an ankle-length skirt and a cardigan.

  She looks like somebody’s grandmother.

  Cara’s voice came breathlessly over the comm. “The runner was easy. The reinforcements, less so. I have them bottlenecked on the first floor, but they might be able to push me back.”

  Damn. I need to finish this quickly.

  Diana held up her empty hands. “Everything would be better if you come quietly. We merely want to ask you some questions at the office.”

  The woman laughed. “The signs of your power are still fading, young one. You will find that I am not so easily defeated as these fools.” Tony’s gun whined, and the witch summoned a circle of darkness to consume the attack. She extended her hand to reveal a wand. Ebony threads snaked from its tip in an attempt to snare the investigator. He flung himself aside to escape them, but judging by the way the magic washed over him in an oval, his deflectors had taken some of the damage he failed to evade.

  She ran forward and led with a punch in the air that directed a fist of force at the witch. Her adversary merely gave a contemptuous smile as she moved her head the minimum amount required to avoid the attack, then raised her wand to counter. Diana tried to yank it from the witch’s grasp with her telekinesis but couldn’t dislodge it. Darkness lanced out at her, and she dropped to evade the strike. Unfortunately, the blow still landed, and she scowled at the vibration as the deflector gems crackled.

  Her roll dodged the next onslaught and she lurched to her feet. Rather than attack, she gathered the energy around herself to form a barrier. The witch laughed, and the bolt of darkness ripped through the shield like it wasn’t there.

  Shit. Th
at was stupid.

  Diana dropped and rolled again. The strength of the impact when she struck the coffee table immediately numbed her arm. She heard gunfire, and Tony yelped. She drew her Ruger and shot at the witch from a crouch.

  The woman summoned her defense again, but the bullets plowed through. One struck her in the shoulder and spilled her back against the wall.

  She barked a curse, sounding angry rather than injured, and the agent squeezed the trigger twice more. The target whispered a word and flicked her wand to levitate a small desk in front of the bullets’ path. It angled in mid-flight and raced toward Diana. She raised her good arm in a hasty defense, and the projectile shattered against her force shield.

  Gunfire exploded from the right. Tony stood with his Sig-Sauer in his right hand and the Ruger in his left. He fired with the former at the thug who had shot him and the latter at the witch. Both struck their targets and the man careened into the hallway with a crash. The witch’s condition was slightly more serious as blood welled from her side.

  Diana raced forward, zip-tied their quarry, and shoved a bandanna she carried for exactly that purpose into the woman’s mouth in case she had voice-activated magical items on her. Next, she confiscated the wand and slid it into the inside pocket of her coat.

  I’ll need to carry something to hold these wands, for real.

  She triggered her mic. “Cara, status.”

  “They’re retreating for now. I’ll maintain position here, but I think they’re done.”

  Tony tottered over and pulled his shirt apart to show the pair of bullets lodged in his vest. “So, that sucked.”

  Diana nodded. She extracted a roll of duct tape and carefully folded the witch’s clothes over her wounds, then bound them with the silver material. “Good shooting, Tex.”