Agents, Agreements and Aggravations: In Her Paranormal Majesty’s Secret Service™ Book Three

by Anderle, Michael

  A woman passed, still dolled up from a night at the clubs. Jennie recognized that look as the infamous “walk of shame,” and the woman blinked in surprise when Jennie appeared in the air before her.

  Jennie landed and regained her balance. She stared at the woman for a moment, the stranger’s mouth open in a perfect O. Jennie scrambled for something to explain what had happened, but instead settled with, “Amazing what kinds of illusions alcohol can induce.” She placed a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “I hope he was worth it. Most guys aren’t.”

  With that, she walked away.

  * * *

  The elevator dinged as the cabin reached the ground floor. The guards shuffled and readied for fire. The doors opened…

  …to nothingness.

  “Fuck,” Darius growled. “Everyone up the stairwell. She must still be here!”

  The guards kicked into action, the message carrying up the stairs. Guards flooded their way upstairs, kicking down doors on each floor and scouring the building for Jennie.

  A few minutes later, the search was over. It was clear that she was gone.

  Darius growled, eyes furrowing at the chair where Jennie had previously been tied. He picked up the remnants of the cuffs then let out a yelp of pain as the residual acid burned his palm.

  Not for the first time, he wondered just exactly who this woman was and how she was able to accomplish the impossible.

  “Send out a search party,” he instructed a nearby guard. “She may still be close. Search every street and building within a three-block radius.”

  The guard nodded and left.

  Darius tapped the receiver in his ear and dialed Zhao. “I’m sorry, boss. She’s gone.”

  He wasn’t expecting the answer he received. “I know.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  New York City, New York, USA

  “Renminbi?” Rhone cleaned the lenses of his goggles between pinched fingers. “What has Chinese currency got to do with any of this?”

  Julia chewed her lip. “Just another drop in the ocean, it seems. All we’re finding are scraps of clues that we’re trying to piece together. None of it makes any sense yet, but it will. I’m sure of it.”

  They had informed the others of all that had happened down in the sewers, and Baxter had, likewise, filled them in on the situation with the Spectral Plane. All specters and mortals looked set to mobilize into the streets, yet the SIA still hadn’t emerged from their choppers.

  Roman growled. “We need to get moving. This is why I don’t concern myself with bureaucracy anymore. Sometimes things just need to happen.”

  Carolyn nodded. “What’s taking them so long?”

  As if they had heard the others, the doors to the helicopters opened and the agents stepped out. The propellers had stopped whirring some time ago. Jack and Ruby’s faces were difficult to read.

  Lionus approached them, leaving his agents in his wake. The cocky smile had faded, and it looked as though what he wanted to say would be painful. “You have the numbers. Let’s mobilize the units. Here’s the plan…” He unfolded a map covered in thick pen lines and circles and presented it to Rhone.

  Rhone snatched it from him and studied it. He threw it back at Lionus. “No. That’s not what we had in mind. We’ve just spent our own precious time arranging the groups in a way that they understand, and now you want us to confuse everyone further by reassigning everyone? The first rule of leadership is communication, son. You can’t lock yourself in a flying cabin and make up your own shit while we’re left waiting.”

  Lionus’ brow furrowed. “Look, Rhone. I’ve been ordered to handle this situation, and we’ll do it my way, or—”

  Ruby growled in frustration and stepped between the men. “Enough of this bullshit! While you two are comparing dicks, there are dangerous criminals out there armed with explosives. Whether or not they’re going to use them isn’t the question. The real question is, can you both put your goddamn egos aside and just get on with saving people already? We’re wasting time!”

  There was a beat of silence before Carolyn started clapping. A dozen or so specters joined in, impressed.

  Lionus’ face flushed. He whirled on Ruby and grabbed her collar. “I will not stand for this insubordination. Get your ass in the chopper. You, too, Agent Hansen.”

  Jack brushed past Lionus as Ruby slipped his grip and knocked him with her shoulder. Lionus grabbed Jack’s wrist, but Jack easily pulled himself free.

  Jack raised an eyebrow. “Just try it, buddy.”

  Lionus’ face flushed an angry crimson. His hands shook. “This is ridiculous! I am in charge here! You will obey my orders.”

  Baxter sighed and looked pitifully at the man. “Respect isn’t earned by barking orders, kid. It’s earned by mutual respect, understanding your friends and enemies, and knowing when to let the more experienced step in. But, hey. If you want to try and command these specters, then go for it.” He raised his voice. “Spectral Plane. Agent Lionus is your new commander. He says you’re to listen to him from now on.”

  Carolyn hid her laugh behind her hand. The specters all turned to Lionus at once, before a chorus of laughter rippled across them in waves.

  Lionus ground his teeth and stared in fury at Baxter, who just shrugged. “As I said. Respect is earned, not taken.”

  Rhone struggled to hide his own grin. “Face it, Lionus. This is our arena. We could use your help, but leave the real work to the experts.” Without waiting for an answer, Rhone called, “Spectral Plane, roll out!”

  Jimmy Dean repeated Rhone’s words at the back and kicked the specters into action.

  Although they had learned that the second bomb had been a decoy, there was still no guarantee that the others were not active. A large portion of the specters was sent to solve the riddles and scour the city for any sign of mischief, while a smaller portion was designated to checking any and all foreign currency bureaus for something that might make the renminbi clue make any kind of sense.

  As the specters deployed, Rhone addressed Lionus once more. “All jokes aside, your choppers would provide a great view from the sky. We need you up there.”

  Lionus held his stare for a long minute before huffing and whirling on the spot. He marched back to the helicopter, shouted at the pilot, and the blades kicked into gear.

  Baxter sighed. “He’s going to be trouble, isn’t he?”

  Rhone nodded. “He already is.”

  * * *

  Like Jennie’s spectral power cells, her cell phone had died.

  She roamed the streets, keeping close to the long shadows cast by the early morning sun, and watching for the enemy. She was already five blocks away, unaware of the limitations of their hunt but knowing that she couldn’t risk being found right now.

  Despite her best efforts to blend in, the city’s early-risers turned their heads at the disheveled woman with two pistols holstered around her hips. She moved fast, taking each block at a time, wondering how best to get after the one thing she so needed.

  A charger.

  Without GPS on her phone, she had no idea how to get back to her car. The city was nothing more than an urban jungle, each block looking eerily similar to the next. The only saving grace was that the streets were numbered, and there was some kind of order, but even then, she only knew she was parked on Forty-Eighth. She could find that street by tracing northerly up the city, but the rest was a mystery. She had at least two miles width-wise in which she’d have to hunt for the place she’d parked the Mustang.

  A cop spotted her from across the street. He called out to her and raised a hand. Jennie made a dash for it and disappeared down an alleyway, keeping her feelers out for any sign of nearby specters. There had to be something, surely. The last time she had spent considerable time in New York, it felt like all she ever ran into were…

  Specters.

  There were two mid-way down the alley. They sat on top of a dumpster, deep in conversation. They appeared harmless enough—not that
that would have been a problem—and they turned at the sound of Jennie’s feet echoing around the narrow walls.

  “Where’s she off to in such a hurry?” the elderly woman chortled.

  The second woman, at least twenty years her junior, clutched a spectral handbag with one hand and adjusted her glasses with another. “Always trouble in this city, isn’t there?”

  They showed no alarm until Jennie was in front of them. The cop’s voice could be heard behind them. A whistle blew. A number of civilians poked their heads around the alleyway.

  “Uh-oh,” the elder woman crooned.

  Jennie met their eyes, and they both flinched.

  “Do you think she can see us?” the elder woman asked.

  “Clear as day,” Jennie answered. “Hold still. This might feel a little strange to you.”

  Jennie latched onto the pair and turned spectral just as the cop appeared around the corner. A couple of civilians gasped and pointed down the alley, telling him they saw her disappear into the dumpster.

  “No, you don’t get it,” one of them said. “She disappeared into the dumpster.”

  The cop shook his head, clearly used to bullshit stories in a city rife with crackheads and heroin junkies.

  The two women froze as they surveyed the tendril that connected them to Jennie. She felt their powers surge through her and was pleased to see that her spectral power cells were slowly filling up as she maintained her connection and remained out of sight of the cop.

  The officer searched the alley, opening the dumpster when he eventually reached it. His confident facade slipped when he saw that the woman wasn’t there—not realizing that Jennie and two other women were hanging onto the angled dumpster lid—and let it fall shut.

  He clasped his radio and muttered an order. A moment later, he wandered down the alley and out of sight.

  Jennie thanked the ladies and hopped off the dumpster.

  “Don’t mention it?” the younger woman replied uncertainly.

  Jennie teased her way to the end of the alley and searched for the cop. She spotted him at a crossing to her left so ducked out and turned right. She slalomed her way through blocks until she felt she was back on track, and within twenty minutes, relief flooded her as she found the Rockefeller Center looking ahead.

  The Mustang was exactly where she had left it. However, after she was done patting the hood and allowing herself to revel in the fact she had located the car again, she patted her pockets, and her blood ran cold.

  The keys! Shit. Where are the keys?

  In her mind’s eye, she thought back to the Empire State Building and pictured the table with her items on. Had the key fallen out as she picked up her gear? Was it even there to start with? Surely no one had stolen her…

  A satisfying jangle came as she thumbed one of the pouches on her utility belt. She wasn’t sure how, but the keys must have worked their way into the pouch through the last manic hour.

  The leather felt like a hug. The car thrummed to her touch. She dug out the cable for her phone and set the cell on charge, cradling the device in its dock.

  After a few seconds, the cell switched itself on. She was bombarded with notifications as the phone connected to the satellites and synchronized itself.

  Missed calls, text messages, WhatsApp messages. The guys had really tried to get a hold of her.

  But why? If any more bombs had gone off, Jennie would have known it, right? She had a near-perfect view across the majority of New York from that window. She would have seen the chaos and disruption.

  Jennie dialed in Rhone’s number and hit call. Rhone answered on the second ring.

  * * *

  It was strange to be back at the Plaza. Jennie had thrown enough cash at the receptionist to secure the room she had booked upon her first visit to New York.

  The view was just as she remembered it. Central Park unfolded before her like a welcome mat. The others sat on the couches and were quiet, each one unable to anticipate how Jennie would lead them.

  “The specters are already out there?” Jennie asked without turning.

  Rhone answered. “They set off not too long ago. They’ve been instructed to check in with us regularly, dialing into the spectral frequencies Baxter has assigned for them. We should know more soon.”

  “And the SIA?” Jennie didn’t need to ask the question. She could see their half a dozen black helicopters hovering over the city like flies around a carcass.

  Rhone had already relayed to her the disruption that had come with Lionus. Although the SIA had already taken to the air by the time they had reunited with Jennie, she had a bad feeling in her stomach. Something was amiss. The guys were holding back on telling her something, but she had no idea what.

  “They’re keeping abreast of the situation,” Baxter informed her. “It’s likely that Daggro will send more agents out as things progress, but since everything has fallen quiet for the past eight hours, there’s little to bring them here.”

  Carolyn leaned forward, eyes wide and sparkling. “What’s our next step, Jennie?”

  Jennie sighed. She knew the question was coming, but the truth was that she had no idea. They were in the thick of it, unable to see a way out. Zhao had escaped and left his game of riddles hanging in the air like loose stalactites in a cave. One loud noise and the whole thing might crash down on them.

  “The riddles are false,” Jennie replied at last, diverting from the question somewhat. “Zhao is not going to destroy New York. He loves this city too much to be the reason it gets destroyed. He said so himself. I don’t think we have that to fear.”

  “Then where are the seven?” Carolyn asked. “You mentioned the others, but we’ve yet to come close to even finding them.”

  Jennie finally turned around. “I don’t know.”

  Julia piped up. “And renminbi? What was that? Why was that what you drew from the Dragon?”

  “Peter,” Carolyn corrected.

  “I don’t know,” Jennie repeated. She hated this. The others were all looking at her expectantly, as though she were the answer to all the problems. Most of the time that was true, but they were at a dead end. Only one possibility remained, and Jennie wasn’t sure that she had the power to complete what was on her mind.

  Jennie crossed over to the bar and opened the cupboard while the others waited in silence. Julia began to ask what Jennie was doing, but Baxter silenced her.

  She took out a bottle of vodka and a cocktail shaker. She held the shaker in her hand, looked at it indecisively, then finally placed it back in the cupboard. She unscrewed the vodka and drained a third of the bottle nonstop.

  Baxter watched without blinking. He knew how serious things would have to be for Jennie to be drinking straight from the bottle.

  When she was done, she wiped her mouth on her forearm. She gasped and rested both hands on the counter. She looked out from over the top of her glasses at the others, and let out a heavy breath. “I have an idea. But it might be dangerous. If this goes wrong, it could cost us everything. Zhao will be onto us. We might kickstart whatever process is in waiting. I don’t know if it’ll work, and the repercussions could be enormous.”

  A pregnant silence followed. After a few moments, Carolyn clapped her hands and stood up. “No change there, then. Let’s do it."

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  New York City, New York, USA

  Jennie took the center in the living room, sitting cross-legged on the coffee table with her eyes closed. The only audible sounds were hums of traffic and the whirring of helicopter propellers in the distance.

  Jennie took a steadying breath, unsure how this was even going to work. The seed of the idea was simple, but executing would be a whole other matter.

  She reached out to the surrounding specters, latching onto Carolyn, Feng Mian, and Baxter. Would three be enough? That would remain to be seen. She vanished from mortal sight and felt their power flowing through her. All of them had extraordinary talents. Skills which were rare am
ongst specters, and maybe that would be useful here.

  The spectral power filled her up like a well. It cooled her blood and heightened her senses. Her skin broke out in gooseflesh, and her hairs stood on end. Behind her glasses, her eyes flicked rapidly back and forth in their sockets.

  Hold on, Jennie. No rush. Take your time.

  Ghosts of memories flooded through her, the patterns and forces that lived in the specters. They weren’t clear enough to hold onto, but she could feel their emotions and their pasts filling her soul. Around her waist, the power cells throbbed with spectral light. Maybe they would boost her signals. Maybe they wouldn’t. All would remain to be seen.

  Jennie’s spine straightened. Her fingertips rested on her knees. She was flooded with power and zoned in to unlock her mind. The lockbox she had tried to keep safe from Zhao was open and available for him to dive into. She hadn’t felt him since he had disappeared from the Empire State building and wondered if his powers relied on proximity. Either way, if he was inside of her somewhere…

  Maybe I could get to him.

  Jennie filtered through the multitude of things occurring behind her closed eyelids. Everything was cast in a bright array of holy light. She tried to drill down to the last thing she had felt of Zhao, the faint echo in her mind as she descended the stairs. She found something, a crumb at best, but maybe it was enough.

  She honed all of her concentration on the crumb. It grew larger, emitting a strange sound she couldn’t make out. It sounded unintelligible, as though an alien had broken into a radio station and lowered its volume to near nothing. Jennie focused and forced it toward her, and the voices grew louder. She zoomed in and found herself peeking through a tiny window of someone’s mind. Two pairs of eyes, narrowed and piercing, staring at a poor female specter who looked as though she couldn’t care whether she was present or not.