by TR Cameron
She shook her head and smiled. “Only good things, love. Karl is back there waiting for you.”
Mur frowned, and Sloan had the sense that the woman had shared more than a name. The bald man lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. “Be well, sweetheart.” He turned to them and said, “Game faces,” under his breath, then led them to the closed door at the rear of the store.
It opened onto a much wider storage area that stretched across the rear of all the stores in the small shopping center. Bundles of materials and stacks of boxes were arranged seemingly at random throughout the space. Sloan fought to keep his expression mostly neutral as his gaze identified crates of military grade weaponry among them. Several tough-looking men with rifles lingered near the garage door that led from the side wall. Another stood beside a tall man in a leather jacket and jeans. Based on the body language in the room, he was the person in charge, despite his biker-like attire.
Or maybe because of it.
Mur strode to him and gripped his hand, then leaned in for a chest bump. Teddy remained awkwardly at Sloan’s side. For his part, the ARES Face tried to appear unthreatening and unthreatened in equal measure. The bald man waved him forward, and Sloan approached slowly. The boss stood over six feet tall and wore steel-toed work boots. His t-shirt hugged him tightly to reveal the muscles that lay underneath. A neatly trimmed dark-brown beard and mustache both matched his shortish hair. His face could best be described as unremarkable, which was perfect for one who wished to remain anonymous. A few simple earrings were his only visible jewelry. He extended a hand. “You must be Ketch. I’ve heard about you.”
Sloan shrugged as he shook hands. “I am. I hope it’s all good.”
He didn’t give an indication either way. “I’m Karl. Let’s go into the office and talk.” The room he led them to was small but well-kept, with binders filling a bookshelf next to the desk and a large safe in the corner. The man sat behind the desk, and Mur took the chair furthest to the left across from him. Sloan settled into the other, and Teddy stood near the door. The sensation of having someone standing at his six was distinctly unsettling.
Karl scratched at his beard. “So, one person tells me you’re reliable, tough, and efficient. From another, I hear that you’re a loose cannon who shoots at cops when it’s not necessary. We have a job coming up, as you know, and I need to resolve this contradiction.”
Huh. He’s smarter than he tries to appear.
Sloan raised an eyebrow. “I can’t be both?”
The man shook his head with a small smile. “In my experience, no. One is dependable. The other is not. It’s a yes-no question.”
“I’ll go with reliable, tough, and efficient. The shots were to get their heads down, not to hit them. The gun was aimed high.”
“Why shoot at all, then?”
He shrugged. “I’m not immune to the excitement of the moment. I was pumped from a great heist. It seemed like the right thing to do.”
The man stared at him for longer than was comfortable, then shifted his gaze to Mur. “Do you buy it?”
He nodded. “I think he’s good.”
Karl swiveled to face him and resumed his stare. Sloan’s power finally decided to show itself in a flash that allowed him to hear the man’s thoughts.
“Things are unsettled. I can’t afford to make a mistake. This is a big one.”
The agent broke the silence. “Whatever the deal, I’m in. If you need me to walk, I understand. I don’t want to, but if that’s what's best, consider me gone. No harm, no foul.”
Karl nodded his understanding. “Okay. You’re in. Mur said he already explained the objective to you. What he didn’t say is that it’s part of a bigger operation, so you can’t screw it up. My reputation depends on it. I’ll take care of a different part. A single failure and the whole house of cards falls. And you do not want to be the one responsible, get me?”
Sloan nodded as Mur interjected, “Ketch is working his contacts to see if there’s anything else we need to know about the space.”
Karl looked at him expectantly and he shrugged. “Nothing different than what we already have, so far.”
The man stood. “Okay. If you do hear something, send it up through the channels. Otherwise, keep your head down and be ready. It's possible the timetable will change. If it does, we’ll have to improvise.”
They were ushered out by one of the guards. Sloan’s mind raced as he tried to put the pieces together. This is too big to be anything other than the Remembrance. But what the hell are they up to?
“What is she up to?” Max didn’t answer, and Rath scowled as they slunk along behind the professor. She strode through the alleys again as she had each day since the first time they’d observed her. The troll felt an obligation to back her up, even though she could probably handle anything she was likely to encounter.
“Patrol, maybe?” Again, the Borzoi failed to weigh in. Rath drummed his fingers on the metal ring he held as they watched her turn down the street at the opposite end of the darkened path. “Follow, Max.” They caught up to her several turns later. Today’s route was unique, and the walk occurred closer to evening than usual.
She’s probably going to dinner or something like we should be.
He’d left a note for Diana so she wouldn’t worry. She had been both more and less protective lately, depending on the day. The new job was a big burden to all of them.
But a good one. A necessary one.
Which made his urge to shadow Professor Charlotte Stanley around town all the more unusual. Still, something hovered at the edge of his mind. Maybe it was instinct. Maybe there were some clues he hadn’t decoded yet. Regardless, something demanded he follow this course.
Eventually, they arrived at a grand-looking old home on a beautiful street. He knew it wasn't hers. That was several blocks closer to the University. Rath watched as she marched up the stairs with purpose, tapped her wand on the door, then opened it and entered. He guided Max closer and dismounted one house away. “Stay, Max. Listen.” He rushed through the grass—which had recently been mowed, fortunately for him. The journey was simple, and his target remained in sight. He jogged around the perimeter of the house until he found a cable that came out of the ground and ran up to what was probably an attic and passed reasonably close to a first-floor window.
The troll vaulted and caught hold of it, then shimmied up the line hand-over-hand. When he reached the right height, he leapt toward the windowsill, caught it with his fingertips, and pulled himself up with a grunt. He laid on the surface and panted. When he’d caught his breath, he rolled and raised himself carefully to peer over the bottom part of the frame. Inside, three people sat at a small round table with Professor Stanley. Cups of tea steamed near each of their hands, and a teapot rested in the center. He assumed it might be a gathering of professors or a card game. They spoke animatedly, with gestures to illustrate the stories they told. He put his ear to the glass but couldn’t make the words out.
He had to know.
A glance upward revealed a smaller window high above that someone had left cracked, perhaps to allow air flow. The distance was a little farther than he found comfortable but seemed doable. And if something went wrong…well, maybe he could grow fast enough that the fall wouldn’t hurt so much. Hopefully.
He bounded to the cable and scaled higher until the small windowsill was closer to his level and he made the jump easily from one to the other. Rath looked down and felt a moment of vertigo but still enjoyed the sight of the high tree branches and the rooftops of the nearby houses. The troll couldn’t remember ever having been this high up before. The urge to sit and take it all in was tempting, but he had a mission. He turned, sneaked through the gap, and dropped onto a fuzzy bathroom carpet.
His feet were almost silent as he ran across the light-brown hardwood floors toward the staircase. He crept down the stairs far enough to be able to peer over the side and see the people at the table. Professor Stanley was speaking.
> “And then these idiots tried to attack me in an alley. Honestly, they were far more stupid than dangerous.” The others laughed. One of them, a man who looked to be the oldest with his long beard, added his own tale. “On the subway this morning, some guy was bothering a woman who was traveling by herself. The way she looked away made it obvious she didn’t want to deal with him, but he blocked her access to the aisle. When we went into a tunnel, right before the inside lights kicked on, I put a sleep spell on him.”
The others laughed and congratulated him on the clever action. Rath couldn’t help smiling. Over the next half hour, they drank tea with some sort of brown liquid from a glass container added to it and shared more stories about small actions to make the town better for the ordinary citizens who lived in it.
Eventually, the clock chimed, and they all sighed regretfully in unison. A modest measure from the bottle was poured for each of them, and they raised their cups for a toast. The man said, “To the noble Order of the Silver Griffins, and to those of us who remember it in thoughts, words, or deeds.” They clinked their glasses and drank together.
Rath grinned. At last, he had a name for the symbol he’d seen in the alleyway. He scampered up the stairs and out the window, then slid down the cable to return to his trusty steed.
“Home, Max. Nothing bad here. Only good. Very good.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
The pieces had come together unexpectedly quickly. Sloan’s report corresponded to a buzz among the street soldiers Kayleigh was tracking. She’d been following several, mapping their travel and checking out their phone contacts, when they suddenly vanished. Their cell signals were gone and the routes they normally took abandoned. The tech had cursed fluently and violently before she explained to her boss that the possibility of the disappearance being a random occurrence was zero. Every single one of them had gone radio-silent at the same time.
Diana knew from previous experience what such silences portended. A text summoning Sloan to action gave them the when—tonight, after midnight. They still didn’t have the what, though. Diana and Kayleigh had spent the day in conference with ARES DC, and Bryant joined them from Hartford while he waited for a flight south. It was Tony who actually broke the case, so to speak. He devoted his afternoon to conferencing with the Pittsburgh Police, where he overheard a request for some officers to work overtime closing down highway accesses. His ears perked up when the man complained that the gig involved working with the feds.
He chatted to a few people and finally heard that a government transport—“some secret military thing”—was passing through town after midnight on the line to Chicago. He kicked that back to Diana, who put the ARES team on it. It took an hour to ferret out the details. A magic artifact had been discovered and identified by military mages as something of immense power. As usual, the army had chosen to keep it for its own. They had previously reconditioned the “white train” of the era of nuclear proliferation, turned it to a fortress on rails, and decided it would make a worthy carriage for the valuable find. Not only that, it would traverse Pittsburgh, home of the Remembrance who coveted magical artifacts, within thirty minutes of the time Sloan was to appear at the library for the heist.
Diana had put the call out to summon the whole team, and they arrived while she worked with Kayleigh to nail down the particulars of the scenario. ARES DC feared another coordinated attack and had put all their people on standby. A couple of hours before Sloan’s deadline, there were credible rumors about attacks in both DC and Hartford, in addition to the one they knew about in Pittsburgh. The Cube shifted to high alert, and the FBI mobilized to assist in the surveillance and protection of government buildings in all the cities. She'd even paid a Willen to carry a message to Nylotte to request that she warn Lady Alayne, just in case.
The upshot was that handling the seemingly inevitable attack had become the responsibility of Diana and her team. The Army’s version of AET wasn’t close enough to intervene and planned to intercept the train for escort in Cleveland. A call to suggest the transport be stopped received only derision. The army was convinced its protections would be more than adequate. Taggart made an impassioned argument against that position while Diana listened in, but he failed to convince the general on the other end. He ended the connection after the officer hung up and uttered a terse, “This one’s on you, Sheen. Get it done.”
She’d shared that word with her team, and they didn’t flinch. The arming space felt a little tighter now with four agents, a troll, and a tech. Sloan was already on his way to the library heist. Kayleigh offered frequent updates on the police’s actions, the progress of the train, and whatever else she could use to fill in the silences that might otherwise become nervous.
She’s way deeper and smarter than she lets people see. It’s unfortunate. I wonder why she hides it.
But the blonde would have to remain a mystery for another day. Tonight, there were criminals who needed their undivided attention.
“So, this promises to be an adventure, my friends. The army won’t stop the train for us, because their orders are not to halt until Chicago, and by God, that’s exactly what they’ll do.” Her imitation of the general’s gruff voice brought laughs from her team. “Which, I guess, I can respect. They think they have it under control. If we’re lucky, they do, and we're merely extra insurance.”
Tony laughed. “When was the last time we were lucky, boss?”
Cara raised an eyebrow at him. “Maybe if you worked out more and shaved that caterpillar off your lip, your chances of getting lucky would improve.”
He stared at the ceiling and sighed. “Abuse. All I get is abuse.”
Diana gave him a shallow nod of appreciation for keeping the meeting light-hearted. “We’ll go in by helicopter.” Heads snapped around at that statement, and she nodded. “I told you all that taking this job would be an adventure. Well, tonight, if the Remembrance does what we think they will, you’ll get to fly.”
Rath clapped his hands. “Is good. I feel the need.” Anik joined him unexpectedly to finish the quote. “The need for speed.” The troll hopped on his bench so his three-foot form could reach the man for the usual fist bump. A pair of timers glowed in Diana’s glasses and counted down. The smaller one measured the minutes to the helicopter pickup on the roof of the building. The second reflected when the train would be clear of the city so they could shadow it.
They’d discussed the options, and while the Remembrance could launch their attack sooner, it didn’t make sense for them to do so. The run from Pittsburgh to Cleveland was through farmland, distant from major roads, and generally a suitable place to stage an action. In short, it was not a matter of if they would strike there but rather where and when along the stretch.
A text from Lisa scrolled into the right side of her glasses. A bunch of cartoon hearts melted into a picture of the three of them at the ballgame. She laughed and grabbed her phone, then sent back a kissing emoji before she stowed the device in the protected case on her belt.
Kayleigh moved from agent to agent and handed out the small boxes that Diana had requested. They were metal, about the size of a Zippo, and held four pills. Each stimulant was good for thirty minutes or so and impacted the system like caffeine but without the shakes. They weren't downside-free, though. The meds resulted in a brutal crash when they faded, but for late-night ops, they were handy to have on the off chance one started to feel a little woozy.
Based on the look of her team, however, they wouldn't need them. They were riding high on a crest of pent up expectation. Each wore basic ARES gear, although Tony had added a second pistol at his left hip in exchange for the pair of grenades that usually rode there. Kayleigh had promised to find a way to add them again at a later date and extra magazine loops had been fitted on his belt as a result, which caused the holders to look more crowded than Batman’s utility belt. Diana had chosen a flash bang and a sonic for her left leg and a frag grenade at her belt.
Every agent, plus Rath, als
o wore a flight harness that looped over legs, waist, and shoulder and met at a large carabiner at their navels for the helicopter deployment. Heavy helmets would serve as protection while airborne. The troll’s custom version had been 3D-printed for the occasion, thanks to Kayleigh’s foresight. Each team member also carried a palm-sized square that contained a computer interface. If they found something to plug one of its four different connectors into, the tech would have an advantage in trying to break into an enemy system. They didn’t know if they’d need it, but again, it was better to have it in case.
Diana wore her new, strangely heavy collar at the base of her neck. She’d asked about the danger of lightning, but naturally, the tech had already thought of that. A small cable connected it to the vest’s absorption line. The others didn’t have theirs yet, which Diana privately considered a good thing. It was better to test the gear in advance with only her as the guinea pig.
It seems like I get to be everyone’s experimental subject.
Her leather bracelet with Nylotte’s charms encircled her right wrist above the illusion detection one. She crossed the room to stand beside the core and faced away from the rest of her team. “Time to go to work, Friday.”
The command activated the collar, and the AI’s voice spoke through her earbuds. “Agent Friday reporting for duty.” Diana groaned and hoped Kayleigh hadn’t added in too many other surprises for her to find in interaction with the system. “Activate comms.” A soft bell chimed to let her know the request had been received and executed successfully. “Comms check.”
The other members of her team spoke one by one to confirm that their earphones and mics functioned properly. Diana toggled the switch to turn off her outgoing communication. “Show me the roof.” Another chime sounded as a split window opened in her glasses to display the feed from the cameras mounted atop the building. There was nothing to see but darkness and the lights that marked the corners. The timer showed fifteen minutes until the helicopter would arrive, so that was to be expected. “Close it.”