Counter Ops: An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure (Federal Agents of Magic Book 3)

by TR Cameron

  One of the towering creatures managed only a step toward Diana before her hands closed on her rifle. A quick check of the sight lines ensured that her allies were out of the way. She flicked the weapon to auto and pulled the trigger. The slugs traced a diagonal from floor level on the left of the creature, peaked at his head, and descended on the opposite side as she yanked the barrel down. She spun and fired on the downed wizards, but one of them had enough power remaining to summon a shield.

  Diana ejected the magazine as the Kilomea fell and rammed in a replacement with a blue stripe. She flicked the selector back to single and fired bursts of three into each mage. The lack of blood revealed the same thing Cara had discovered downstairs.

  Kevlar. I hate it when they learn.

  She sighted carefully and put one round into each arm and a single leg on each target. The ammunition was indifferent to the shield the man tried to maintain. She grinned as she fired the last bullet into the thigh of the farthest wizard.

  See, Rodriguez? Sometimes, I get it right.

  When she straightened and sought her next target, there were none to be found. Between the grenades, the troll, and Sloan’s meticulously targeted fire, their enemies were all eliminated or disabled. Her sense of triumph was soured a little when she realized that the floor and one wall were burning. “Kayleigh, roll the fire department to this location.”

  “Already done, boss. PD is on the way, too. Plus, you have a group of news drones outside, so if you don’t want your face to be on TV, cover up.” A case was currently in progress through the courts to limit the use of the mechanicals by media organizations, but right now, it was more or less a free-for-all. As long as they were authorized to fly the devices, they could put cameras on them and call it news. The Pittsburgh stations hadn’t committed any particularly egregious offenses, but she’d heard a story from Las Vegas about drones detailed to constantly track the actions of the Brownstone Agency. Whether this was to celebrate or castigate was still unclear.

  He’s so well-known, they could probably release a movie of his fights into the theaters and make millions. And no, I’m not jealous.

  Her inner voice laughed at her, all-knowing, as usual.

  Shut up, you.

  The other crew joined them a moment later. Cara gestured at the flames. “Seriously?” Diana glared at her, but she continued. “The fire I started is much more impressive.” They shared a tired laugh, which was interrupted by a familiar whoosh as a trio of portals materialized.

  Three identical witches stepped through the gateways, decked in black tactical gear that looked eerily similar to that which the BAM operatives wore. They cast simultaneously, and the furniture in the room was reduced to debris. Display cabinets transformed into shrapnel. Desks and chairs became flying battering rams. Rath raced toward the stairwell and dodged as best as his larger body would allow while Cara slipped into the descending stairwell. Diana used her telekinesis to protect herself and directed the largest of the projectiles away while she held a barrier in place before Tony, Sloan, and Anik. Fortunately, the three had enough sense to retreat as quickly as possible to avoid putting undue strain on their leader.

  Diana scowled as the huge bags of loot elevated and spun into the portals. She attempted to move forward, but two casters kept her pinned down by threatening her team. They shifted positions to maintain a trajectory on the others and forced her to maintain the barrier over the stairwell. She flicked objects at them, but the witches blocked them as easily as she had. It was a stalemate for the moment. The others would be back in the game soon, but until they returned, she could do nothing but defend.

  Downed enemies were pulled through the portals one by one. Diana gritted her teeth in frustration until the sharp retort of gunfire sounded, and the witches jerked backward. The team had regrouped, and their anti-magic bullets punched through to impact in Kevlar and other protective plates of the enemy. The first two witches stepped back through the rift. The last nodded at Diana as she retreated through her own. The condescending smirk on her face was the final insult.

  The portals collapsed, and they were alone again. Cara stepped beside her. “Who the hell were those guys?”

  She shook her head. “Assholes.”

  The other woman gave a single bark of mirth. “Sure, but new ones, right? They didn’t look the same as the ones we’ve faced before.”

  Diana turned and waved for the team to follow her to the stairs, where Rath waited. She handed him the vest he’d discarded when he grew, and he nodded in appreciation as he shrank to the appropriate size again.

  “Kayleigh, are we clear to exit the roof?”

  The tech’s voice replied after a brief interval. “Keep your masks on, but yes, there’s no opposition.”

  She removed her black mask from the pouch at her belt and put it on and watched her team do the same, sans Sloan, since his hadn’t been removed in the battle. Satisfied, she focused on Cara. “Yeah, I’d agree that they aren’t familiar. They seem disconnected from the Remembrance.”

  “So, we have two teams of magical enemies now. Awesome.”

  Sloan grinned. “The more the merrier. We’ll have the bounty cash for the mobile armory in no time.”

  Diana sighed and gestured around the room. “Maybe we should simply break into high-end stores. It would be easier and faster.”

  The other woman whacked her on the shoulder. “We’re the good guys, boss. Remember?”

  She slapped a hand dramatically on her forehead. “Right, right. Sorry, I forgot for a minute.”

  Rath, who had remained silent through the whole adventure, came over to stand beside her. His voice was deep and breathy when he spoke. “I find your lack of faith…disturbing.” He maintained his Darth Vader impersonation as the team ascended.

  By the time they reached the roof, Diana had pushed through the frustration and renewed her determination.

  I don’t care how many gangs of scumbags there are. This is my town, and you’ll all go down, one at a time if need be.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The team was already assembled in the fifth-floor conference room when Diana and Bryant arrived just after two in the afternoon. His brown hair was carefully combed, and his suit conformed to the toned muscles of his body. She moved immediately to the coffeemaker, and he took a seat at the head of the table. Only Rath and Max were missing. The duo had chosen to stay at home, doubtless to rest in preparation for some unknown adventure.

  Cara looked exhausted. The healing potion had done its work but at the cost of her body’s energy stores being drastically drained to hasten the recovery.

  We have to build up our energy potion supply, too.

  Nylotte created and acquired supplies on their behalf at a steady pace, but as their tasks increased, so did their needs.

  Damn. I forgot. I need to take some deflector crystals to her next time.

  Sometimes, Diana thought the Drow merely requested things to keep her on a permanent scavenger hunt.

  Bryant exchanged greetings with the others, and Tony introduced him to the two new members of BAM Pittsburgh. Nods were traded, but the room was uncharacteristically reserved. Bryant’s serious demeanor and her own combined to cast a pall over the space. She sat and ceded precedence to him with a wave of her hand.

  He cleared his throat. “First, let me say excellent work on the response to the break-in. You did an effective job of dealing with the threat, and the fire damage was minimal. The merchandise was insured and no innocents were harmed. All in all, it was a suitable deployment.”

  Tony bumped Cara’s shoulder with his own. “Did you hear that? Bryant said you’re not innocent.” He raised and lowered his eyebrows suggestively at her.

  She rolled her eyes. “Dream on, Lothario. You wouldn’t survive it.”

  Bryant’s lips twitched—only a touch, but it was good to see. “The bad news is that other adventures last night didn’t go nearly as well. There were several attacks, and we think the timing is too coi
ncidental to be anything other than intentional. ARES DC, Hartford, and Buffalo were also targeted.”

  Kayleigh spoke for them all when she said, “Is DC okay? Is everyone all right?” Her hands were clenched tightly, and the nails dug into her palms as her knuckles paled.

  Bryant shook his head. “DC has some wounded, but nothing worse. They were attacked during a response to a break-in similar to yours. Hartford is our newest location. They had only a few operatives and as a result, they have one dead and one missing. They were gathered at a restaurant, and civilians were hurt as well. No fatalities are among them yet, but a few are in critical condition.”

  Blood drained from the faces around the room. The pattern was clear, and he soon confirmed it.

  “Buffalo was wiped out. They struck the base and killed everyone in it, then blew up the installation.”

  Diana barely contained the outrage that burned violently within. Cara wasn’t nearly so subtle. She was a soldier, and soldiers didn’t take losing their own lightly. It was a sentiment her boss related to well. She saw the same tension in every member of her team except Kayleigh, who was too stunned to let the anger settle.

  “Were the other bases secret?” Sloan asked.

  Bryant nodded. “The same model we’ve used here is implemented everywhere.”

  “So how did they find out?”

  “Unknown and it's under investigation. The existence of the ARES locations was known only to the Army Corps of Engineers and their superiors, our agents, and the oversight council. There’s no reason to think anyone in that chain would reveal it deliberately, as we’ve all been vetted to hell and back.”

  Sloan nodded. “Technology? Magic?”

  “It could be either.” He shrugged. “We’re looking into all possibilities.”

  “Including those who have been vetted to hell and back?”

  “Yes.” Bryant sighed heavily. The cost of distrusting those above him was clear on his face. “The rollout is paused for the time being. It’s too dangerous right now. We’ll abandon Buffalo for the short term and focus on shoring up Hartford, instead. You seem able to take care of yourselves.”

  The team’s heads turned toward Diana, who nodded. “Yes, I’d say we have it more or less under control.”

  His shifted his gaze to Kayleigh. “Taggart would like you to stay here for a while longer if that’s okay with you. There’s not enough good science to go around.”

  She nodded numbly. Diana couldn’t muster the effort to feel smug, though. The situation was too sobering, and it showed on everyone’s faces. One thing was certain.

  This hurts. We need to find these fuckers and put them out of business permanently.

  Bryant looked grimly at his watch. “Diana and I have to conference with DC. If you have questions, text me.”

  The core awoke as they exited the elevator and strode into its sensor range. The remainder of the floor stayed dark as the monitors flickered to life and screensaver art bounced around, courtesy of Kayleigh’s warped sense of humor. A series of toasters with wings flapped with every second of “air time.” Diana pressed a few buttons on the center table’s virtual interface and an array of displays switched to images of a stylized, many-pointed star. She and Bryant took position in front of the camera, and at the appointed second, the logos faded one by one to be replaced with people.

  Senator Aaron Finley was in the far left with an office, presumably his, in the background. He appeared both angry and upset. The next displayed a person Diana hadn’t met, but Bryant had shown her his picture. Stan Dykstrom was the head of ARES in Hartford. A butterfly bandage held a cut closed at the corner of his left eye. Heavy bags sagged under his darkened eyes.

  He probably spent the night in the hospital, either for himself, for the team, or for the civilians wounded in the attack. It sucks to be in charge, sometimes.

  The third monitor showed Carson Taggart, who wore as ferocious an expression as Diana had ever seen from him. She’d known the steel in his spine had to be there, but his glare provided confirmation of the fact. Her first thought was that she was glad it wasn’t aimed at her.

  Finally, the fourth display was suddenly and unexpectedly filled with the frowning face of the Vice President of the United States. Diana snapped reflexively to attention, and Bryant did the same beside her. His deep voice sounded exactly like he always did on television.

  “On behalf of the President, and of the ARES oversight council, I want you to understand that we share your sorrow. This calculated attack must be answered and shall be answered. The public may never be aware of the sacrifices made for their benefit by your comrades, but we know, and we will remember. You have our support. And as SAC Taggart has been assured, you have virtually unlimited latitude in your response to this deliberate provocation. Stay safe, and kick some tail for your fallen, for your country, and for your planet.” He nodded, and his screen faded to darkness.

  Well. That’s not something you see every day.

  Everyone held their breath and stance as if the man might suddenly reappear, but after several seconds, they relaxed to greater or lesser degrees, based on their positions. Finley appeared anxious, Taggart furious, and the remainder of them moved into some version of parade rest. The head of ARES frowned before speaking.

  “So, there are innumerable questions we need to address. First, is this one group or multiple groups? Second, how did they find out about the Buffalo base? Third, what’s their endgame?” He paused, then added, “What have I left out?”

  Bryant was the quickest to respond. “What’s their middle game? We have to assume this is the start of something, or at least near the beginning. The attack on the Cube was the opening salvo—the Remembrance saying, ‘we’re here, fear us.’ If this is them, it’s an escalation, but I can't imagine that they’ve shown their entire strategy yet.”

  Diana and Dykstrom both nodded. Finley squirmed. Taggart’s eyes darted to where the screen would have shown on his monitors, then asked, “Senator?”

  The council go-between leaned back in his chair and sighed. The camera focus pulsed once before it brought him properly into view. “We have a systemic problem here. They messed with our supply lines. They went after our prison. Now, they’ve attacked our people directly. This is somewhere beyond business and into the personal if you know what I mean. What I don’t understand is why. We haven’t been that big a thorn in their side yet, have we? How are they so aware of us? Could this all be fallout from the attempt to kidnap the ambassador?”

  Diana blinked. The political dimensions of the equation had been temporarily swamped by operational concerns, but she now saw his line of thought. There was no reason to think the enemy was working on only one front.

  Bryant stroked his chin, and the sound of bristles scraping filled the room. “So what you’re suggesting is that this could be the tactical side of a political strategy?”

  The Senator nodded. “Or, at the very least, they intertwine. Otherwise, the attack on the ambassador seems unconnected, and that simply isn’t probable.”

  Taggart frowned. “That makes sense. So, let’s add that to the list.” He sighed and straightened, his expression resolute. “Okay, here’s the plan. First, we beef up security. Second, we collect intelligence. Third, we find these bastards and knock their teeth down their throats.” He nodded in approval of his own decisions. “Get to it. Daily conferences at oh-eight-hundred until further notice. Tech discussions to follow at nine, so coordinate with your people. Talk to you tomorrow.”

  The monitors died as ARES DC, who had hosted the meeting, killed the connections. Diana turned to face Bryant and leaned on the display table. “So, security and intel.”

  He nodded. “Kayleigh can work on establishing deeper access into the local sources. I’m reasonably sure that the Vice President just gave us permission to do whatever we feel we need to do.”

  “It’s fun being off the books.”

  “At least until we get arrested.”

 
She rewarded him with a laugh

  “Anyway, you might want to put a little more oversight on the people upstairs. They provide decent cover, but they could be a liability too,” he noted.

  Diana nodded.

  Like I’ve said all along

  “Have the Kemanas local to the attacks been alerted?”

  “Yep, at levels higher than ours.” Bryant scratched his chin, a gesture that now seemed almost permanent as his mind worked.

  She realized she’d never seen him with stubble before.

  It looks good on him.

  “Have Tony talk to Warden Murphy. Make sure the Cube has it all together. I won’t have a chance to meet with her this trip.” Diana nodded again. “And get your Face out there. It’s time for him to earn his pay.”

  “Hitting on women in bars?” She grinned at the memory of her first sight of Bryant as DC’s Face tried to pry her and Lisa apart and failed miserably in the attempt.

  He smiled in response. “Only if the situation absolutely requires it.” He checked his watch and sighed. “I have a few hours before I have to hit the rack to get out of here in the morning. Dinner?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world, BC.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Sloan Woodhouse walked along Liberty Avenue. His grey hooded sweatshirt and distressed jeans allowed him to be merely a body in the crowd of people who went about their daily lives. His hair was unwashed, only finger-combed out of his face, and he looked sloppier than usual. Solid work boots were imperfectly tied, and a chain dangled at his right hip to connect his wallet to a belt loop.

  He kept his identity in mind and reaffirmed it with each step.

  Tommy Ketchum, nickname Ketch, grew up poor on the north side, eleventh-grade dropout. Good with locks and high places. Muscle with added skills, basically.