Escape From the Dragon Czar: An Aegis of Merlin Story

by James E. Wisher

  She grinned and Fedor was struck by just how young she was. Anya should have been thinking about a boyfriend and her career, not running for her life. But if there was one thing he’d learned it was that life wasn’t fair.

  Anya’s tenth kick slammed home. The thought of getting to shoot must have inspired her. Every blow had landed perfectly.

  “How was that?” Anya asked.

  “Good.” Fedor tossed the cushion down and went to the duffle bag. He emerged with a 9mm automatic and a loaded clip.

  Sasha sat up from her place on a makeshift bed, her lips turned down in a worried frown. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

  “She needs to learn. If anything happens to us, Anya has to know how to defend herself.”

  “Yeah, Mom, and besides it’ll be fun.”

  Sasha’s frown didn’t go away, but she nodded. Fedor held out the pistol and clip. “Show me how.”

  Anya took the weapon, slammed the clip into the grip, and worked the action before snapping the safety on. Just like an old pro.

  “Good.” Yarik looked around and spotted a slat on one of the crates with a knot in the center. He broke it off and leaned it against a pile of crates. Even if she missed the bullet would still hit wood instead of going ricocheting around the car. “Take your stance.”

  Anya stood in front of the board and raised the pistol, gripping with both hands like he’d showed her.

  “Aim and squeeze.”

  The crack of the pistol was loud in the car, but her shot was good, an inch to the right of the knot.

  “Again. Make the correction.”

  Anya nodded and squeezed. The pistol barked and this time she only missed by a quarter inch to the left.

  “One more.”

  Anya bit her lip and fired again. The bullet punched the knot out of the board. He didn’t know how she’d do if faced with a living, breathing target, but if she found the will she could at least hit him. The weight of what they’d done to the girl struck him once more. Fedor swore to himself that he’d do whatever was needed to keep her from having to use a gun again.

  * * *

  Yarik shifted, trying to get comfortable on the worn-out seat of his car. He’d parked down the street from the Dorcha government building, a sprawling three-story complex made of concrete. No one had bothered to paint the building, instead leaving it to weather to a dark gray. If they’d intended to design a building to drain the life out of you the architect had succeeded beyond his wildest imagination.

  At least they had a few more hours of sunlight to work with. Tracking the target without getting caught was hard enough without trying to do it at night. Especially since the Empire didn’t see fit to provide them with night vision goggles.

  An hour had passed and Jana’s shift ended in fifteen minutes. The plan was to follow her home then see what she did when her brother passed along Karis’s message. If he was right about Jana’s sympathies the reaction should be interesting.

  “Are you going to call the witch?” Igor slumped in the passenger seat, a pair of binoculars clutched in his hands.

  “Not until I have something to tell her. We could be barking up the wrong tree here and I’d just as soon not make myself look any more of a fool than I already have.”

  Igor looked his way. “You think that’s possible, given her history?”

  “If there’s one thing I’m sure of at this point in my life it’s that anything is possible.”

  A young man with dark hair ambled down the sidewalk toward the building, his hands thrust into his pockets. Yarik frowned and squinted. Did he have a bandage on his nose?

  “Is that Karis?”

  Igor raised his binoculars. “It sure is. I didn’t think he was going to meet her tonight.”

  Yarik flipped open his phone and dialed the station. When the front desk answered he identified himself and said, “Patch me through to the surveillance team watching Guard Karis.”

  A moment of static then, “Go ahead, Agent Yarik.”

  “Can you give me an update on the target’s position?”

  “He went inside about three hours ago and hasn’t come out.”

  “That’s interesting, because I’m looking at him now. He’s loitering outside the government building, no doubt waiting for his girlfriend to emerge.”

  “That can’t be. We’ve been watching his building nonstop since he went inside.”

  “Can you see every exit? Every window? He slipped past you somehow. Never mind, just get over here. If he snuck out they must have something planned. For god’s sake keep your distance.”

  Yarik hung up and dialed Irmina. He suspected they’d need the witch before this night ended.

  “There she is, sir,” Igor said.

  “Shit.” Yarik tried to focus on the ringing phone and the attractive brunette walking toward Karis.

  “Agent?” Irmina said.

  “Things are proceeding. Can you join us in the field? We’re parked outside the government building.”

  “I’m on my way.”

  “Stay in the air and follow my car. We don’t want to spook them.” He’d barely finished speaking when he realized he’d just given an order to a White Witch. Not good.

  “Understood. I’ll wait for your signal to move in.”

  He let out a breath. She hadn’t taken offense. Either that or she was too worried to care. The latter possibility worried him.

  “There they go,” Igor said.

  Karis and Jana walked along the street hand in hand, the very picture of a happy couple. Under other circumstances Yarik wouldn’t have given them a second look. He fired up the car and eased it into gear.

  “What’s around here?” Yarik asked.

  Igor lowered his binoculars and unfolded a map. “Not much, civil service buildings, a few restaurants and businesses. The nearest apartment block is a quarter mile away.”

  “Anything associated with the resistance?”

  “Nothing mentioned in the files I’ve read.” Igor reached for the radio. “I can check with headquarters.”

  Yarik slapped his wrist. “You know better. They monitor our frequency. We’ll just have to watch them and find out.”

  He eased the car out of its spot and drove down the road past the walking couple. They didn’t so much as look his way. He continued on, watching them in the rearview mirror. When he’d gone a block he turned down a side street and stopped.

  “Follow them, Igor. Karis knows me, but I bet he didn’t notice you.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Don’t get too close and if they do anything suspicious call me.”

  Igor grinned. “Don’t worry, sir, I can handle a pair of kids.”

  Yarik grunted as Igor closed the passenger side door and started up the street. Famous last words. He really hoped Igor didn’t do anything stupid. He finally had him trained enough to be of some use. It would be damned inconvenient if he got himself killed.

  Yarik’s phone rang. “Yes?”

  “I’m in position overhead,” Irmina said. “I can see your second moving down the street. There’s a couple across the way from him. Are they the targets?”

  “Yes. I don’t expect them to do anything overt on the street, but if you could back up Igor, I’d be grateful.”

  “Not a problem. Would you like me to leave the line open so I can keep you up to da—”

  The line went dead.

  “Irmina? Hello?”

  Yarik switched his phone off and on then dialed her again. Nothing. He tried the surveillance unit and came up empty again.

  The little readout on his phone read “no signal.” In the middle of the city he should have perfect reception. The only reason he wouldn’t was if someone had messed with the local antenna.

  God damn it! They’d been spotted.

  Yarik slammed the car into reverse and laid a track of smoking rubber down as he screeched out of the side street.

  Tires squealed as he cranked the wheel and skidded aroun
d. A bullet sent cracks running through his windshield.

  He flinched, slammed it into drive, and stomped the accelerator. A second round punched through his roof.

  Yarik crouched down as if it would do any good and groped for the radio.

  “This is Yarik. We need backup in the government district now.”

  “What’s your location, Agent?” the dispatcher asked.

  “I don’t know, just send them towards the gunfire. Now!”

  He dropped the mic and risked a glance over the dash. The street Igor had gone down was just ahead.

  He whipped the car around. His second was pinned down behind a dumpster and Irmina was lying in the middle of the street.

  More rounds peppered the car as he drove between the witch and the shadowy figures on the rooftops shooting at them.

  He opened the door and rolled out beside the witch. She was bleeding from a shoulder wound and from her stomach.

  God, what a mess. He tore his jacket off and jammed it hard against the stomach wound. Irmina moaned, which reassured him that she was still alive.

  “Hold that tight.”

  She groaned, but did as he said. Yarik drew his pistol and popped up for a look.

  Bullets clattered against the car forcing him back down. He counted four people for sure. Considering they had rifles and the high ground that was more than enough.

  “Igor, you hurt?”

  “I’m fine, sir. They shot the witch first which gave me enough warning to get down.”

  “I don’t suppose you have a shot.”

  “Afraid not.”

  Yarik flinched when two more shots pinged off the hood. The rebels seemed content to hold them down.

  Where the hell was his backup?

  “Did you see where the targets went?”

  “Sorry, sir,” Igor said. “I got distracted.”

  Talk about a bad situation. He needed to get Irmina to a healer.

  Thunder cracked in the clear night just before a blinding light forced him to shut his eyes. When he opened them again Yarik risked a look over the car. Two figures in white flew around the roof where the gunmen had been moments before.

  Backup at last. Not the kind he’d been expecting, but for once he wasn’t about to complain about witches showing up unannounced. Yarik scrambled to his feet and waved to draw their attention, yet another thing he never imagined himself doing.

  The witches held their positions for another few seconds before flying in a tight arc down to the car. Both women looked older than Irmina though younger than him.

  “What happened?” the older witch asked.

  “Ambush. She got hit twice. I’ve done what I can for the bleeding, but I’m no healer.”

  The older witch turned a cold eye on her younger companion. “Take care of her.”

  The younger witch motioned Yarik out of the way and held her hands over Irmina. A golden bubble of energy surrounded her and the two of them flew off. Yarik watched them until they were out of sight.

  “Will she be alright?”

  “Of course, no White Witch would be slain from such minor wounds.”

  The wounds had looked pretty serious to Yarik, but he held his peace. “Thank you for the rescue. I expected more conventional backup.”

  “We overheard the call and knew one of our sisters was with you so we chose to respond. Tell me everything.”

  Yarik did as she bid and when he finished she said, “How did they know Irmina was there and what sort of weapon did they use to penetrate her defenses?”

  “I’d very much like the answers to those questions as well. Could I persuade you to lend us your help in tracking down our missing rebels?”

  A cruel smile twisted her thin lips. “I will question the dead then we will hunt down the czar’s enemies and make them beg for death.”

  Yarik swallowed. That was more the sort of attitude he expected from a White Witch. He seldom pitied anyone stupid enough to oppose the Empire, but in that moment he felt bad for Karis and Jana. He wouldn’t wish an encounter with this witch on anyone, even a pair of rebels.

  * * *

  Yarik, Igor, and the witch, Nosorova, marched down the street toward a closed-up food distribution center. The modest-sized, single-story building had been shut down and its inventory moved to a larger warehouse years ago. Like everything else not directly involved with members of the ruling class it was made of cement blocks with narrow windows. For some reason the Empire liked to build even the most mundane structure like it had to withstand a bomb blast.

  Yarik had never understood it, but then his job didn’t require him to understand his masters’ foolishness, only to obey them. The witch had muttered and waved her hands then marched them down the empty street. The gun battle seemed to have scared off all the locals, a good thing for them as they didn’t have to worry about any innocents getting caught in the crossfire. He wouldn’t have to worry, anyway, somehow he doubted Nosorova would be overly concerned about anyone that had the misfortune to get in her way.

  “Are you sure this is the place?” Yarik asked.

  She shot him a glare. “Of course. I can sense magic emanating from the building and it isn’t ours.”

  Yarik tensed up. Regular people like him were sitting ducks if the enemy had magic. If it came to a fight he doubted he and Igor would be of much help.

  “How do you want to handle this? Magic is way outside my area of expertise.”

  “I will deal with the rebels,” she said. “You two stay out here and make sure no one escapes.”

  “If there are multiple exits we might miss someone,” Yarik said. “Maybe we should wait for the second surveillance team to arrive.”

  “There’s no time.” She whistled and gestured. Yarik didn’t see anything, but he assumed she’d accomplished something. “There, I’ve placed guardians on the other side of the building. You two need only worry about this one. I trust you can handle that much at least.”

  “You bet. Good luck.”

  She sniffed. “When you have magic, luck is unnecessary.”

  Nosorova strutted across the street like she hadn’t a fear in the world. Surprising considering Irmina had just been shot by these rebels. Did she think acting fearless would intimidate any watching rebels or was she stupid enough to believe Irmina had simply been careless? All he knew for sure was that having two witches get shot while working with him wouldn’t be good for his career or his life.

  “I liked the other one better,” Igor said.

  Yarik nodded, but didn’t speak. If the witch was using magic to listen in on them he didn’t want to say anything that might set her off.

  Across the street Nosorova reached the door and waved her hand. Nothing happened.

  She made a more complex motion and pointed at the door. A light flashed, but still nothing happened to the door.

  “Nosorova seems to be experiencing technical difficulties.” Igor grinned, seeming thoroughly amused by her troubles.

  Yarik wasn’t amused in the least. Anything that gave a White Witch problems would probably kill a pair of security agents with no difficulty.

  Finally she stomped her foot, looked their way, and waved for them to join her.

  “So much for watching the door.” Yarik led the way across the street at a flat-out run, his head on a swivel. They reached the door without encountering any resistance. That was a stroke of good luck.

  “Is there a problem?” he asked.

  “Obviously there’s a problem.” She jabbed a bony finger at the door as though accusing it of a crime. “The rebels have acquired a dark magic ward and it’s blocking my magic. You two will have to enter and arrest everyone inside while I keep watch.”

  “We need to wait for reinforcements,” Yarik said. “There’s no way to know how many rebels are inside and if we don’t have your magic to back us up we’ll be sitting ducks.”

  “I told you there isn’t time. The longer we wait the better the chances of them escaping.”

/>   “No one can escape with your magic surrounding the building. We can have an entry team here in ten minutes. Please.”

  Her expression hardened. “Get in there and do your job or so help me I’ll have you before the Court of Corruption on insubordination charges.”

  Goddamn witches.

  Yarik drew his revolver. “Alright, Igor, put your boot to that door and let’s get at it.”

  Igor pulled his automatic, reared back, and kicked the door right below the handle. The frame crunched and burst inward.

  Yarik lunged through into an empty hall. Nothing there but an old mat and some coat hooks hanging from the wall. He listened hard, but heard only silence.

  He eased down the hall with Igor right behind him. Dim light from the door barely revealed an empty room beyond the hall. This must have served as an office for the warehouse. At the rear was another door that led to the main storage room.

  Yarik glanced at Igor and nodded toward the door. Igor eased over and reached for the handle. It turned without a sound. Slowly, slowly he eased the door open. Voices came from inside, but Yarik couldn’t make out what they were saying.

  Once Igor had the door open he slipped through and Yarik tiptoed in, shutting the door behind him. The storage room wasn’t anywhere near as empty as he’d expected. The two agents crouched behind crates and sacks that had been piled up haphazardly to one side of the door.

  In the center of the room a small table held a large stone covered with squiggly marks that pulsed with energy he felt more than saw. That had to be whatever was giving Nosorova fits.

  Five people stood in a circle around the stone, including Jana and Karis. Of even greater interest to Yarik was the handful of machine guns leaning on the table between the rebels. He didn’t care much for their odds, even with surprise.

  “I can’t return to work now,” Jana said. “The security forces are clearly on to me, Karis too.”

  “Calm down,” said an older man with a gray beard in grease-covered overalls. “We’ll find new places for both of you, new identities, you’ll be fine.”

  Igor raised his gun, but Yarik gave a shake of his head. He wanted to see how this played out.

  “Has anyone heard from Fedor?” one of the strangers asked.