“This work commemorates the first of two seemingly final battles against Rhazdon and, at the time, her followers.”
She zoomed in on a part of the image. “Here you can see members of the royal family commanding the armies opposing the rebels.” Rath heard a distinct click and watched as the image blurred, then focused on a different position. “And here you can see Rhazdon’s disciples. What’s notable about them?”
A short silence threatened to become a long one before a small woman with dark hair in the front row raised her hand. Charlotte nodded at her. The student seemed to ask rather than to state her suggestion. “There are multiple different beings in that group.”
The professor smiled at her. “Exactly, Theresa. Thank you.” She turned to face the rest of the room. “Rhazdon shared a simple message—that power belonged in everyone’s hands, not only in those who ruled by the good fortune of high birth. It resonated with many and crossed most of the traditional lines that foment unrest—species, gender, and all the other ways we tend to label ourselves.”
She raised her arms toward her audience. “You’ve read about this already. You tell me. Who was in the right?”
A spirited discussion ensued among the students, moderated by well-timed comments from the professor. It wove through the many issues involved in the situation—power, class, race, gender, and more. The opinions seemed fragmented, each advocating for the particular piece of the puzzle that most resonated with them.
Just like how it probably was back then, Rath thought. People seeing that which was closest to them and not necessarily the whole picture. Perfect pawns for those with broader vision.
Eventually, the student next to him, who had woken up and paid an impressive amount of attention during the class, turned to him and spoke loudly enough for the room to hear. “Hey, little dude, what do you think? Was the royal family wrong to hang onto power the way they did?”
The troll shrugged as the class turned their collective gaze on him for the first time. Many were surprised by their unexpected guest. Charlotte smiled and stalked up the aisle to stand beside him. She held her clip microphone out on its cord so he could speak into it.
“Don’t really know. Wasn’t there. But with great power comes great responsibility. Maybe everyone forgot that.”
There were murmurs of assent and some smirks mingled with applause for the reference. Charlotte smiled at him, and his relaxed companion held a hand out for a high five. The class moved quickly on to further discussion of the history around Rhazdon’s group. Rath had other things to ponder.
What responsibility does the Remembrance think it has? To who? Against who? Everyone?
He was more a live-in-the-moment kind of troll than a far-thinking one, but the potential answers to those questions left him feeling decidedly uncomfortable.
After class ended, he and Max bounded out of the room and ran to the teahouse where they’d promised to meet Professor Stanley. They slid through the door as others departed, as usual, and had a table of their own by the time she arrived. She went to the counter first and finally joined them, bearing cups for each of her guests. Rath grew to his three-foot size in order to drink it. When the first bubble of tapioca burst in his mouth, he realized why Charlotte liked it so much and gave her a happy grin. “Is good.”
She nodded and took a long sip of her own before she set a bowl of water down for Max. “It is. So, did you enjoy the class today?”
He shrugged. “Many people. Many ideas. Hard to come together.”
Charlotte leaned back and sighed. “You can say that again, my friend. And if it’s challenging in the classroom—where at least we all have the shared mission of learning—how much harder is it out in the world? Very, I would say.” He nodded in agreement and she leaned forward again. “Are you aware of the motives behind the attack on the prison? There have been whispers that those responsible are new followers of Rhazdon.”
He frowned, wondering how that information had been revealed, then decided it didn’t really matter. “Heard the same. Not sure how true. Could be stealing the name only.”
The professor nodded. “That makes sense. Well, in any case, I hope they are dealt with before they can do more damage.”
“Me too.” Max made a soft chuff of agreement from his position at their feet. They talked of other things while they finished their tea, wandered to the sidewalk together, and said their goodbyes. Rath shrank and hopped on Max’s collar, and they sauntered down the street. As he swung back to wave farewell a final time, Charlotte turned into an alley a block away. He frowned.
That doesn’t seem very smart.
He tapped the dog to turn him. “Quiet, Max. Stealthy.” The Borzoi padded ahead quickly and soundlessly and moved low to the ground. People on the sidewalk stared at the dog and the tiny troll as they slunk past, but Rath paid them little mind. He was worried about the professor. Max moved only far enough that they could look down the alley and they saw her turn into another across a small street. “Faster, Max,” he urged. They raced after her and reached the next alley in time to watch what unfolded.
The narrow passage was barely wide enough for three people. Halfway down the shaded path, a pair of tough-looking individuals walked a menacing circle around Charlotte, who waited calmly between them. Both stood taller than her and wore dirty jeans and hooded sweatshirts. One kept the hood up. The other was bald with several silver hoop earrings in each ear. His voice emerged in a condescending growl. “Give us the purse, lady. Don’t make us hurt you.”
The other echoed the order. His voice sounded higher and faster like Diana did when she’d had too much coffee. “Yeah, give us the purse.”
She looked at her handbag, then at the would-be muggers. Her position was such that Rath could see the amused look on her face, which seemed totally inappropriate for the moment. “This purse? Right here?” She held the shoulder bag up. “Oh, no. I couldn’t possibly. It has all my stuff in it. My students’ papers, for one, and that’s a big no-no. Privacy and whatnot. Certainly, you understand. How about I buy you both a coffee and we talk about changing the direction of your lives, instead? There’s a shop around the corner.”
The troll narrowed his eyes. It still sounded like the woman he knew, but different, somehow—stronger, more confident, and direct. The men didn’t quite know how to react, it seemed, because they stood in silence for a long moment. Finally, the bald one punched a fist into his palm. “Right, a beating it is.” He stepped forward and swung a looping hook at the professor’s head, but she was no longer there.
Charlotte ducked and spun out of the way with more agility that Rath would have expected, and his respect for her grew at the sight.
Professor Charlotte clearly trains.
He was even more surprised when a wand appeared in her hand and she used it to retaliate with invisible bolts of force that hurled the thieves into the walls on either side. They slumped in a daze, now devoid of all trace of aggression. The woman smiled and tapped each one lightly on the skull with her wand and muttered a word. Both men fell still.
The entire conflict—if one wanted to call it that—took only seconds. She stood over her attackers, shook her head, and muttered irritably to herself. Rath only caught a few of the words, which included “stupid” and “bad choices.” She knelt beside one and pointed her wand at the space where the wall met the concrete surface of the alley. Her lips moved briefly before she straightened and resumed her stroll. It didn’t take long for her to exit onto the next street.
The troll dismounted and grew to his medium size as he approached the fallen men. A tiny part of him feared what he might find, but he discovered to his relief that they only slumbered. His attention was captured by a subtle glimmer, and he knelt to peer at the spot where her wand had been pointed. The reflection was a stylized outline of a lion’s body with the beak and wings of a giant bird that glinted in silver when he shifted his head to the right angle. He shrugged, withdrew his small smartphone from the pouc
h attached to Max’s collar, and took a picture of it. Then, he snapped images of the criminal’s faces to add to the records at the base and stowed the device again.
He paused as he was about to shrink and jump back on the dog's back and considered whether he should call the police to pick them up but shook his head.
No. Charlotte didn’t, so I won’t. I wonder what she’s up to.
Then, he grinned. The city needed people who were willing to do good, and it looked like Charlotte was part of the team, exactly like him, Max, Diana, and the others.
Great responsibility. We are the law.
Chapter Fourteen
"I’m sorry we didn't get a bounty run or two in before you guys had to roll out on a real mission." Diana strapped her shin guards on and watched to be sure that Anik Khan and Sloan Woodham were familiar enough with the lockers to find their gear. Neither seemed to have any trouble. Their new Face had spent several days familiarizing himself with the facility, and even though the demolitions expert had only arrived the day before, he was used to working out of different locations and adapted with ease.
Kayleigh entered the room, walking slowly as she reviewed something in her AR glasses. Haptic sensors stuck like ornaments on her fingernails allowed her to manipulate the data through hand motions. "Okay, people, listen up. PD surveillance grid spotted a pack of Kilomea crossing the rooftops at the side of the strip district that caters to the gem trade. The early guess is they'll do a smash and grab at one or more of the dealers in the Desotte building." The structure was part of the city's past and stood only five stories high, but it was the historical location for the highest-end jewelry buyers and sellers in town. Many dealers still worked in the building and the surrounding area.
"There are eight of them, and I have a drone on the way, about a minute out. And before you ask, Cara and Tony, no, it's not armed." Both agents groaned loudly for effect and she scowled. "SWAT will create a perimeter after we arrive so as not to spoil the surprise."
Diana cut in. "We've requested they stay out of this and let us handle it, rather than going in together like we did at the museum. I think we should be able to divide and conquer. As far as gear goes, we don't want to blow the place up more than we have to, so stick to flashbangs, sonics, and pepper. They should all tick the Kilomea off as much as they do wizards and witches. We shouldn't need anti-magic bullets against them, but make sure you have at least one magazine for each weapon, plus your backup filled with the little buggers. You never know."
She crossed to where the stun rifles rested on the wall and pulled them down. After a brief examination, she handed them to her compatriots. "Half of us will go in the top, and the others will enter from the bottom. SWAT has a key or something to get you inside."
"You know, boss, what we really need is a mobile armory for situations like these. We could already be there by now," Cara said.
"I’m way ahead of you and have already kicked the idea up to Bryant. He kicked it right back with a hard no. So, eventually, we'll have to make it happen on our own." The members of her team who knew the regional SAC laughed. The newest recruits hadn't met him yet, so they didn't quite get the joke. "Rath, Sloan, and I are upstairs. Everyone else will enter through the front door."
They stood while they finished gearing up and paired off for a final equipment check. Kayleigh waved her hand in the air a few times. "Okay, the drone's in place high enough that they can't hit it. I’d rather not have a repeat of the incident at the Cube, thank you very much.”
“Are you still sore over that knife throw? Come on. You have to admit that was cool,” Cara teased.
“And I suppose you’re willing to buy me a new drone out of your paycheck, then?” the tech asked icily.
She merely winced in response.
“I’m glad we understand each other.” She cleared her throat. “Back to business. I’ve confirmed entry. The raiding party looks like a group of eight and they’ve chosen the roof."
Diana shook her head. "Eight of them, six of us. It hardly seems fair."
"For them." Cara smirked and gave Tony a high five.
Rath grinned. "Never tell me the odds."
Cara shot Diana a look and mouthed, “Yes, Star Wars marathon.”
The other woman rolled her eyes. Out loud, Diana said, "Go check." Six responses echoed. Kayleigh finished the cycle, then turned and walked to the core where her techno wizardry would thrive under her oversight.
Diana led her agents down the long tunnel to the parking garage and they piled into two new SUVs. With the manpower and the extra equipment they’d been able to purchase lately, they needed to upgrade their carrying capacity.
The team eased through the light nighttime traffic. It was too late for the dinner rush but early enough that they would miss the traffic after the end of theatre performances. Their route took them through the cultural center of town to the far side of the warehouse and wholesale district. They parked a couple of blocks away and piled out of the cars.
"Final comms check." Affirmatives followed from everyone, including Rath and Kayleigh. She circled to the rear of the SUV and raised the hatch. In addition to the hardpoints to hold their rifles and stun guns, each car carried several backpacks filled with situational gear. She retrieved one with a stencil of a grapnel on it and put it on. Her rifle followed. They'd decided as a group that the stun gun straps were more annoying than useful, so it was the last thing she picked up to carry. It would also be the first thing discarded when things turned hot.
BAM Pittsburgh gathered around her. Tony and Cara were calm, Rath's three-foot form bounced in anticipation, and the two newcomers looked both nervous and excited. "Kayleigh, are we good to go as planned?"
"Affirmative. The east wall is your best bet for the climb. There is no activity visible through the windows, but thermal scan shows beings on each of the four floors—and not only Kilomea. Smaller forms, too." A schematic of the structure with the heat sources overlaid appeared in her glasses, and Diana scanned it. The figures were in motion, so it was an unreliable source of planning data for anything other than raw numbers at that moment. She gathered Rath and Sloan with a gesture and led them to the building a block away. On a cross street a little further north, the other three agents walked toward the front entrance.
Their dark shirts, pants, and boots blended with the night as Diana carefully avoided the pools of illumination cast by the dim streetlights along their path. Kayleigh had modified the police stun guns by painting them black and reducing the weight with cutouts and replacement parts. She'd promised to redesign them from the ground up, but time hadn't allowed it yet.
One more reason to stay, my pretty.
The SWAT versions were meant to be a visible deterrent. BAM Pittsburg generally couldn't afford such luxuries.
They arrived at the building within minutes. Kayleigh had selected a good approach angle and small dark windows stood out at regular intervals. Since the tech hadn't provided visuals through them of the room inside, they were probably shaded or blocked. Their ascent would remain undetected. Diana unclipped her backpack straps, pulled the bag free from the rest of her gear, and set it on the ground. She felt behind her to ensure that the Ruger and Bowie knife were where they were supposed to be. When she turned, the team's Face had already knelt to remove the bipod base, launch tube, and rocket-shaped grapnel from the pack.
The device was modeled after an army mortar. All one had to do was drop the projectile into the tube, where it would strike a firing pin that launched it at an angle defined by the cylinder's positioning. The "bomb" was rather different than standard in that its body was mostly filled with compressed air for thrust and it had outer panels that would fall away once the onboard sensors detected downward motion. A final burst of air would deploy the five tines that would, hopefully, catch the edge of the building and hold. The grapple line was thin and strong enough to support a person’s weight. Unfortunately, for safety reasons, they would have to ascend one at a time.
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Sloan positioned the tube and locked it in place. Rath dropped the round in, and it rocketed into the air. The party only had one backup. If they missed twice, they would be forced to retrieve the other backpack from Cara's car, which would be a humiliation impossible to live down on top of a waste of precious minutes. Diana breathed a sigh of relief when she heard the tines catch on the rooftop.
"Good positioning, Sloan. Good firing, Rath." She pressed the stud on her glasses to increase the size of the window that displayed the drone feed. The roof was still clear.
Haptics in the gloves would be useful. I’m totally adding it to the list.
The troll scampered up the line, as agile as always. He barely needed the knots that had been tied to aid ascent. Diana followed, and Sloan climbed after her. They would have taken the skylight under normal circumstances, but this building had invested in bulletproof glass, which would take too much effort to break and also make too much noise.
So, the stairs it is.
They opened the door that guarded their route carefully and checked first with the fiber optic cameras to be sure there were no surprises on the other side. It stood unlocked, untrapped, and unguarded. Sloan whispered, "Deploying crawler," and stuck a small piece of metal to the sloped ceiling. Articulated legs unfolded, and the device began to move. Its miniature feet stuck to the roof with a form of technology she couldn’t even begin to understand. Kayleigh had tried to explain once, but the agent’s eyes had glazed over, which prompted Cara to advise, "Think of it as a robot spider."
A cute, tiny, creepy, artificially-intelligent arachnid.
The feed from the machine replaced the drone feed in her glasses, courtesy of the low-profile repeaters buckled to each of their belts. The signal boosters were Kayleigh's design. She had huffed about being useless during missions and rejected the bulky backpacks that ARES traditionally wore when they needed more wireless juice. She'd promised to find a better means to secure them for the future, but for now, they were no more distracting than a flashlight would be.
Federal Agents of Magic Boxed Set Page 53