Shadow Detective Supernatural Dark Urban Fantasy Series: Books 4-6 (Shadow Detective Boxset Book 2)

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Shadow Detective Supernatural Dark Urban Fantasy Series: Books 4-6 (Shadow Detective Boxset Book 2) Page 5

by William Massa


  “We located the main hub which controls the town's power supply.” She pointed at a tall, wiry blonde man I hadn’t met yet. He was inspecting a pair of skis. “Hans will shut it down.”

  “That’s nice of him.”

  Ignoring my wisecrack, she continued. “Once the power is out, we'll have fifty seconds to get inside before the bank's back-up generators kick in. “

  “Won’t the guards get suspicious the moment the lights go out?” I wondered.

  “Dimitri and his crew will be able to handle them. There’s a reason we brought him along for this ride.” Her eyes narrowed as she gave me a long, penetrating look. “Those were…good questions. You sure you haven’t robbed a bank before?”

  I shrugged. “I’ve had to break into a few places over the years.”

  She seemed to thaw ever so slightly. “I bet you have some stories to tell.”

  If you only knew the half of it, I thought.

  “If I’m going to live through this one, you might want to hand me some warmer clothes if you don’t want me to catch a pneumonia.”

  “I’ll find you something to wear.” She turned toward the band of thieves. “Be ready in fifteen minutes. The chopper is waiting.”

  Vittoria was about to leave when she paused, something having caught her attention. Moving with urgent purpose, she brushed past me and strode toward McManus.

  The powerful Irishman was leaning against a nearby locker inside the hangar. Vittoria seemed to drink in the man's powerful chest, but I’d already learned that this woman was all business. She wasn’t interested in McManus’s muscles; her gaze was focused on the silver crucifix around his neck, glinting in the brilliant sunlight. A grin spread across the Irish goon’s face as he misinterpreted her interest.

  “Like what you see, darling?” he asked.

  Vittoria yanked the crucifix off the man’s neck. McManus yelped, “What the fuck?”

  “No personal belongings. Mr. Taske’s orders.”

  “Fuck you, bitch! You could've just told me to take it off. That was my gran’s!”

  “Taske is paying you more money than the McManus clan has seen in five generations of inbreeding. You play by his rules now. Understood?”

  This said, Vittoria stalked away, crucifix in hand. McManus stared after her, murder in his eyes. He finally spun around and punched the locker. Once, twice, the blows denting metal. His back was turned toward me, revealing a giant Celtic cross, meticulously inked across sinewy muscles.

  I followed Vittoria as she marched out of the hangar and tossed the silver crucifix into the snow. Why had she insisted on removing the religious item from McManus’s neck in such a dramatic manner? My gaze remained riveted to where the crucifix had fallen as I considered the question. Did she fear a religious symbol like the cross might set off the bank’s black magic security system? And if so, what other horrors might be waiting for us inside the Hagen bank?

  8

  The team, bags of gear slung across their shoulders, strode toward the waiting transport chopper. Everyone was wearing their game face. They looked more like a band of Nordic warriors than thieves readying themselves for a break-in.

  And then there was me. It was cold enough to see my icy breath, and I was grateful of the parka and gloves Vittoria had finally given me.

  I watched with growing incredulity as Dimitri and the others loaded several snowmobiles into the chopper. This was beginning to feel more and more like a Michael Bay movie than a bank robbery. Skulick was never going to believe this.

  Had my partner already noticed that I was gone? The Cursed City and the world I left behind felt like a million miles away

  A man with a narrow face and friendly smile sidled up to me. His name was Max and his specialty, I had learned, was cracking safes. “Lear jets, choppers, snowmobiles. Not exactly your average heist, huh?” Max said with a grin.

  No shit, buddy.

  I merely shrugged and followed Max into the chopper. Most of these goons seemed to think this was just a massive, well-funded bank robbery. The occult angle of the heist seemed to be of little concern to them. And why would it be? Most people had no idea of the dark forces which threatened humanity. Science had replaced superstition in our modern age, at least in the mind of the average person. But pretending that the occult didn’t exist wouldn’t stop a demon from clawing your face off and then wearing you like a meat suit.

  Had Taske even told these men what they were signing up for? He seemed to think that having me along to shut down the mystical security measures and retrieve his magic doohickey would help, but I wasn’t so sure. If the Hagen Bank was dabbling in dark magic, there could be untold horrors waiting for us inside. I wondered how tough McManus or Dimitri would be when faced with some of the shit I’d seen.

  The helicopter’s prop wash drowned out my concerns. The majestic mountain landscape stretched out below us as the chopper rose into the sky. Despite being stuck in a foreign country with a group of professional bank robbers and killers, I couldn’t help but be awed by the scenery. Bloody sunlight filtered across the frozen planes and jagged mountain tops. I could almost feel the presence of God. The desolation was both beautiful and unnerving, especially when contrasted with the hustle and bustle of the Cursed City. This wasn’t a world designed for man.

  My attention turned from the mountain’s frozen landscape to the woman leading the operation who mirrored the landscape’s icy beauty. Vittoria was busy studying a satellite map, checking coordinates while exchanging words with the pilot. I noticed McManus’ hate-filled gaze as he followed her every move. I was becoming more and more convinced that the Irishman was going to be a problem.

  Vittoria picked up on the man’s angry glare too and gave him the finger, a dark grin plastered across her face. Watching her, I kept experiencing an eerie sense of familiarity. She reminded me so much of Isabel, the girl I’d dated for a few months after I turned eighteen. She sported the same damaged yet tough mask, a haunted quality coupled with an emotional disconnect. I’d fallen hard for her back in my teens, and I guess I’d caught a case of broken-wing syndrome.

  You’ve probably already guessed that our love story didn’t have a happy ending. Three months into our hot-and-heavy courtship, Isabel left me for some biker drug dealer. I later learned her dead body had been found in a cheap motel down in Florida, shot up with heroin. I think I had been drawn to her because part of me foolishly believed I could be the knight in shining armor who would save her from her demons. These days, I found it easier to fight literal demons.

  My attention turned to the other passengers in the chopper. All of them career criminals, but unlike Dimitri, McManus and Sanchez, the rest of the team weren’t killers. Just skilled experts who had no problem breaking the law if the potential payout seemed worth the risk.

  Norton seemed at peace as he read a book of poetry by William Blake. Shoji, our hacker, was entranced by a handheld videogame. His sister’s eyes were hidden by a pair of aviator shades, and her face gave nothing away. I spied what looked like some pretty hardcore tattoos on her neck and under her ears. Another damaged soul, perhaps.

  A strange silence had fallen over the helicopter. Each player had retreated into their private little world, gathering strength and energy for what lay ahead. Everyone except Max, who kept gagging and pressing his hand to his open mouth.

  “God, I hate helicopters,” he moaned.

  “Relax. We're almost there,” Norton told the safecracker.

  I was sitting by myself in the corner, clearly the outsider among this band of misfits. I was used to it. Every time I visited a crime scene, I ran into the same thing.

  A shadow fell across me. Vittoria had decided to check up on me.

  “Aren't we the social butterfly?”

  “Just keeping things professional. I would think you could relate.”

  There was a flicker of emotion in Vittoria’s eyes, quickly suppressed. “Fine, have it your way.”

  “What was that whole thing
with McManus about earlier?” I asked as she turned away.

  “I thought it was pretty clear. Taske’s rules are law on this job.”

  “I know what you told him. I want to know the truth.”

  No answer was forthcoming. The helicopter dipped toward the next mountain. We had reached our destination.

  After the helicopter touched down, we all mounted the snowmobiles inside the steel belly of the craft. I took a seat behind Vittoria. Dimitri flashed me a mocking grin, apparently amused that I was letting a woman drive. I fought back the impulse to flash him the finger.

  The hatch hummed open. The snowmobiles’ snarling engines assaulted the mountain as they hurtled out of chopper's steel belly. An endless landscape of snow and ice welcomed us. The landscape eerily amplified the sounds of the snowmobiles, as if to remind us that people didn’t belong here. Nothing living did. I felt I was on some alien planet and not an Alpine winter wonderland.

  The chopper lifted off behind us, its rotors sending icy plumes into the air, and banked sharply while our snowmobiles carved snow. Vittoria and I were in the lead, Max and Dimitri right behind us.

  All the thieves, including myself, wore two-way radio headsets with mics, allowing us to communicate with each other if the need should arise. Nobody was feeling particularly chatty at the moment.

  Hans sliced down the frozen mountain on a pair of skis. He separated from the group, rushing toward the box canyon below. It would be up to him to switch off the bank’s power long enough for us to break into the place. The Olympic skier quickly outpaced the snowmobiles.

  My attention turned toward the mountains. They projected an air of palpable menace, the peaks rising toward the air like the jagged teeth of some hungry beast. How many lives had they claimed over the years, how many fools lay buried beneath the white mass of snow? I could have easily thrown myself off the fast-moving vehicle, but I didn’t see the point. Where would I go? It wasn’t like I could outrun my captors on foot. Even if I did, I’d likely join the ranks of frozen dead in this desolate place.

  But the real reason I didn’t try to escape was a thousand miles away. Taske had been quite clear about the consequences if I refused to play ball. It didn’t matter that Acher hated me now; I couldn’t let her down again.

  Squinting against the blinding red sun, I could make out a crack in the mountain wall ahead. The opening yawned like a black wound in the landscape.

  Our snowmobile slowed. I sensed Vittoria’s hesitation and felt the tension in her shoulders. I did my best to ignore the sick feeling building in the pit of my stomach. I hated venturing into the unknown, and Vittoria’s fear only served to amplify my own. Her hand gingerly touched the medallion around her neck, almost as if it was a protective talisman.

  Dimitri's voice boomed over our headsets. “What's the matter? Why did you slow down?”

  Vittoria dropped her hand and sat up straighter. Without a word, she fed gas to the snowmobile. A moment later, we disappeared through the fissure in the mountain wall. The others quickly followed behind us into the cave system.

  Darkness engulfed us, and I slipped on the pair of night-vision goggles Vittoria had provided me earlier. Stalactites hovered above us as we blasted down a series of winding ice tunnels.

  My night-vision goggles painted the world a spectral green. Despite my growing fear, a sense of dark wonder gripped me. We raced through the tunnel system, past towering pillars of ice and cracks where the ground had shifted. Vittoria didn’t slow down until we reached the rendezvous point, navigating the underground labyrinth at breakneck speed while I could do nothing but hold on.

  “Alright boys and girls,” she said when we finally stopped. “We're here. Let’s get this party started.”

  I watched in grim silence as the other members of the team dismounted from their snowmobiles. In my twenty-seven years on this planet, I had managed to rack up a pretty interesting resume. Ghost hunter. Demon Slayer. Vampire Killer. And now I was about to add bank robber to the list.

  Hans tore down the mountain on his skis, the world reduced to a white blur as he expertly zig-zagged through the landscape of snow-covered trees. Night was rapidly descending over the box canyon below, the shadows lengthening.

  Even though he felt his chance at Olympic gold had been stolen from him after a random drug test which revealed that he was doping, he never lost his love for the sport. He tried to reserve his hatred for the hypocrisy of the World Anti-Doping board and not skiing itself. Everyone was juicing, it was the only way to keep one’s competitive edge, but some just were unlucky enough to get caught.

  He’d been one of them.

  After they banned him from the Olympics, he found himself adrift. Drugs and alcohol offered an escape and crime became a lucrative way to sustain his new habits.

  This job paid more than any job he’d ever done before. It might be his ticket to a new life. His chance to go straight again, maybe even open a skiing school or a resort.

  Elated by the thoughts of a new, better life, Hans zipped toward a steel tower, its powerlines leading toward the village where the Hagen Bank was located.

  He slowed down and stopped. Moving quickly, he slipped off his skis.

  Snatching his bag of gear from his shoulder, he quickly approached the tower. The icy landscape was strangely silent, the preternatural stillness unnerving.

  He was about to climb the steel ladder which ran up the tower when...

  A sudden sound of snapping branches nearly made him lose his footing. He whirled, coming face to face with... a deer.

  The frightened animal eyed him for a split second in the icebound wilderness before it darted into the trees. Hans shook his head, and his features relaxed.

  Time for the fun part. He proceeded to scale the tower, moving carefully. A cold wind whistled past him, making the surrounding trees sway. To his surprise, he couldn’t shake the feeling that somebody or something was watching him from the surrounding trees. Fading sunlight dappled the snow-covered ground receding below him.

  Hans secured himself tightly around the top of the tower and removed the steel bolt cutters.

  Let's get this show on the road, he thought.

  He palmed his mic, and within seconds received the go-ahead from Vittoria to proceed. The team was waiting for him to make his move.

  He cut into the power lines and felt the cable give way to the steel cutters. An instant later, the lights went off one by one across the small alpine village.

  Suddenly, his headset squawked to life. The sudden sound startled him, amplified by the perfect stillness. He slipped on the icy railing, and for a second, he lost his footing.

  He dropped ten feet and landed on the icy ground with a thump. Fortunately, the deep snow cover softened his fall. Stupid, stupid, he scolded himself. He’d allowed himself to become distracted.

  He squinted. Snow flakes filled the night air, danced around his face. Slowly, he picked himself up.

  A sudden sound made his heart skip a beat. His head swiveled in the direction of the noise. Eyes peered into the encroaching darkness. Listened intently. Nothing.

  Hans shook his head.

  Alright, it's official. You're losing it...

  His mind suddenly went blank as a shadow engulfed the snowy ground. It was humongous, and grotesque and almost looked like…

  A pair of giant wings?

  What the hell could it be?

  He turned his head just as claws blurred toward him in a whirl of brutal motion. There was spray of gore on white snow, followed by the crazy realization that he was staring down at his own blood…

  The next blow sent the headset flying and Vittoria's voice crackled from the bloody speaker resting in the snow.

  Hans’ electric blue eyes widened at the horror which had attacked him, his face a mask of red.

  A flock of terrified birds exploded from the surrounding trees as a bone-chilling roar filled the forest.

  It was soon followed by his own screams.

  9<
br />
  Max and Norton were furiously drilling through rock and ice. They were making fast progress. The rest of the team were resting in the tunnel, waiting for the next phase of the break-in.

  The drill bit suddenly stopped spinning, and the whirring and banging died down. Enough rock had been removed from the tunnel to reveal a portion of the bank’s walls. Time for the next step. Norton began to set a series of explosive charges.

  I stood close enough to pick up on the explosives expert's growing discomfort. Or maybe I was just projecting my own feelings. Being stuck in an underground tunnel with charges going off around me wasn’t exactly my idea of a good time.

  “Something wrong?” I asked him.

  “I hate enclosed spaces,” Norton explained. “Reminds me of prison.” He took in a deep breath and added, “I'm never going back. I'd rather die than do time again.”

  “Maybe you should consider a different line of work,” I said, trying not to sound too sarcastic. Norton seemed all right. Thankfully not everyone was a borderline sociopath here.

  “Believe me, I tried,” he said. “But I love to blow shit up too much.”

  He pointed at his left hand. A quick glimpse showed that two of his fingers were missing.

  Nice. That’s not disturbing at all.

  “Got careless once. Won’t happen again.”

  “Glad to hear that,” I said, reassessing my earlier evaluation of the explosives expert. If everyone in our merry band of thieves was a psycho, then what did that make me?

  I shone my flashlight down the other end of the tunnel. Now that the drilling had stopped, I could make out another sound from the impenetrable darkness. I could have sworn it sounded like a raspy moan. It seemed to be calling to me; there was a beckoning, wistful quality to the sound. Was it the wind howling through the tunnels or something else?

  I gingerly took a few steps into the darkness, following the direction of the noise. The tunnel soon widened, turning into a small cave before forking off into three different directions.

 

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