“I see I have your attention now,” stated the voice on the phone.
“Yes, you do.”
“Good. I’ll be there shortly. If you are wise, you’ll meet me at the front door with my friend.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” replied Agent Randle.
“I figured as much.”
“Why don’t you come in and we’ll talk about it?”
“No thanks, I’ve already spoken long enough with your…brother? Cousin? I couldn’t figure out how he knew where I was, but now it all makes sense.”
“You don’t think we’re going to just give him to you, do you?”
“No, not really. This call is merely to warn you of my imminent arrival so fewer people will get hurt.”
“That’s awfully nice of you,” Agent Randle said with great sarcasm.
“At least my conscience is clear.”
From down the hall, the agent sent to see about the trace shouted, “We got him!”
“Where is he?”
“Phone booth, less than a block away.”
“Ah, I see you know where I am.”
Ka-boom!
The building rocked as a blast took out a section of its eastern wall. “Just so you know I’m not bluffing. You’ve got five minutes to clear out. Anyone I see with a gun pointed in my direction dies. If my friend is dead when I arrive, I’ll slaughter everyone and raze Las Vegas to the ground. I’ll be coming in the front. If you’re smart, my friend will be waiting for me.”
Click.
As James left the phone booth, smoke rose from the site of the explosion amidst chunks of debris falling to earth. People screamed, sirens rang, and he walked calmly toward the FBI building. Around him, shimmering and all but invisible, was his protective shield.
In the neighboring blocks surrounding the FBI building, cop cars moved to block roads to keep civilians out of harm’s way. James continued walking until he stood across the street, facing the building wherein he would find his friend. Taking out his mirror, he quickly had Jiron in view.
Two agents were removing the bonds binding him to the chair, while another held a gun pressed to the back of his head. Once Jiron was freed from the chair, they cuffed his hands behind his back and marched him from the room.
For a fleeting moment James thought they may have actually acceded to his request, but then the men hustled Jiron to a back room where he was thrown in and secured. Agents took positions to cover the hallway leading to the back room in anticipation of his arrival.
Ping!
A bullet ricochet off his shield followed quickly by a dozen more. Snipers located in the upper stories of the FBI building, along with a couple on the roof, had him in their sights and were trying to take him out.
James sighed. He hated what he had to do. But a threat not followed through would only lead to further complications. So, taking out one of the rocks acquired earlier, he began launching them one by one toward the snipers just as he used to do to Empire crossbowmen. Sped with magic, they flew unerringly to their target, taking them out until no further bullets were sent his way.
Ten men dead.
Figuring the five minutes he promised to be up, he started across the street.
From overhead came the sound of helicopters. Thinking the cops had brought in reinforcements, he glanced up only to find they belonged to the news stations around town. He wondered what they were making of all of this, and how his actions would be explained since magic wouldn’t even be a consideration in their deliberations. If men weren’t about to die, he would have found a bit of humor in it. But as it was…
Continuing across the street, he headed for the front door.
“The snipers are dead!” one agent shouted as he entered the room.
“What?” Mr. Barnes exclaimed in shock.
“He took them out.”
Glancing to Agent Randle, the Task Force Chief said, “Call Nellis. See if they have any Apaches they can send us.”
“It’s only one man.”
“Do it!”
Agent Randle nodded to another agent to see it done.
As the agent began the call, another hollered, “Hell, have them send some F-16’s!”
“Here he comes!”
It was going to be a bloodbath if he went in. There were at least two dozen agents waiting for him. Sending his senses out he could tell that cops were entering through the back door to lend what aid they could. Good men one and all, with the possible exception of that Agent Randle. James really didn’t want to kill them.
Pausing before the front door, he sent his senses toward the room in which Jiron was being held. His friend was alone, and from what he could tell, was grinning. Jiron knew who it was that played merry hell with his captors.
Perhaps a change in plans might be a better way.
“What’s he doing?”
Agents watched as the terrorist did nothing but stand motionless six feet before the front door. A minute ticked by and still the man remained still. Two more passed before he turned and began moving from the front door around to the side.
Jiron was laughing. Pent up frustration as to whether or not his daughter had been successful in rescuing her uncle was being released. When the first explosion occurred, he knew James had arrived.
His biggest fear was that they would kill him before James had a chance to effect a rescue. But all they did was move him to another room, one that had but a single exit that was easily guarded.
It was quiet now. Jiron sat on a box, wondering what was going on. When…
Wham!
…the wall at the rear of the room exploded inward, pelting him with debris. A figure emerged from the dust cloud produced by the explosion.
“About time you got here.”
James grinned and shrugged. “You know me.”
“Yes, I do.” Looking for a second form to emerge, he asked, “Where’s Jira?”
“Safe and unharmed. You should be proud of her.” A burst of magic sent Jiron’s cuffs falling to the floor.
Rubbing his wrists, the one-time Pit fighter said, “I think they took your radiation suits when they arrested me.”
“I know. They’re in a room not far from here.”
The door leading into the back room began to be assaulted from the other side as FBI agents sought to enter. They would be pounding for some time before they managed to gain entry for James had sealed the door shut with magic. He handed a glowing crystal to Jiron. “Here. Activate this and you’ll be protected.”
Taking the crystal, Jiron said, “Activate,” causing the shield to spring up around him.
“Jira has one too. So unless she cancels it, which I told her not to do, nothing on this world short of a nuke is going to harm her.”
Jiron nodded, though he wasn’t entirely sure what a nuke was. Though from the way James said it, it had to be pretty bad.
Moving to a wall on their right, James said, “This way.”
Wham!
The wall exploded inward and James passed through the newly created hole and entered an office. He had sealed the door shut to this room as well. Making his way between desks topped with computers, he came to another wall.
Wham!
Exploding inward just as the previous one had, it revealed a room with a large window on one side through which could be seen the cell in which Jiron had been held. Stacked on three separate tables were their belongings from the car and the motel room. Jiron eagerly recovered his knives and belted them once again around his waist.
“Get everything,” James told him. “We’re not coming back.”
“Right.”
As Jiron began to quickly stuff his duffle bag, James took out his mirror to check on how Jira was doing. “Uh, oh.”
Turning to his friend, Jiron saw him looking into the mirror. “What is it?”
James indicated for him to come look with a jerk of his head. “It seems Jira has company.”
Displayed upon the mirror’s s
urface was Jira on the park bench. A dozen cops had her encircled, one of which was running his hands across the surface of the protective barrier. Jira looked very frightened.
“As long as she keeps that shield in place, they won’t be able to touch her.” He glanced from the mirror and saw rage barely kept in check within Jiron’s eyes. “She’s fine.”
Jiron gave a brief nod. “Let us hurry.”
James located his thrift store backpack and began stuffing items within. Most of their things they would have to leave behind, stuff such as their camping gear, and anything else that wasn’t of paramount necessity.
A small box was uncovered when he moved aside a blanket and he saw the words “Original Hawaiian Chocolate Factory” written across the top. “My cocoa pods!” Indeed, within he found four pods nestled in Styrofoam as well as a pamphlet detailing instructions for their care and subsequent planting of the seeds within. Beneath the box was the second item he had ordered with the pods. It was a box of assorted chocolates that he intended to bring back for Meliana and Kenny. Taking both boxes, he filled the remaining space within his backpack and cinched it tight.
“We have everything?”
Jiron slung his duffle across his back. “I think so.” A quick survey of the remaining contents revealed they were leaving nothing of importance behind.
It had grown quiet during the time spent retrieving their belongings. “They may be waiting to ambush us when we leave.”
James sighed. “I know. Let’s get this over with. Stay behind me.” With the backpack resting comfortably on his back, James turned toward the hole blasted in the wall. Beyond the opening he could see movement. “We’re coming out! I don’t want to hurt anyone, but I will kill anyone who gets in our way. You have my word on that.”
“Getting bloodthirsty in your old age?” grinned Jiron.
The expression James turned on his friend was anything but amused. “No, I’m just tired and want to go home. The only way they’ll leave us alone is if we’re dead.”
“I doubt if we’re going to be that accommodating.”
James didn’t respond as he headed out through the opening.
Ping!-Ping!
Shots began to be fired and bullets were deflected by his protective shield in a steady stream. Four police officers in riot gear bearing automatic rifles aimed from around the hole in the outer wall. Opening up on full automatic, they launched a devastating barrage upon the two approaching men.
Crumph! Crumph!
Both sides of the opening exploded outward as magic blasted away the ground beneath the officers. Stone and men went flying as James and Jiron continued on through.
Once they emerged from the building, greater firepower was unleashed upon them as a rocket from a hand-held launcher impacted the outer shell of James’ shield. The resultant blast forced them back a step and caused their ears to ring.
“What was that?”
“A rocket of some kind I think,” replied James. “That’s nothing. Wait until they get the big boys after us.”
“What’s a big boy?”
About that time, an Apache attack helicopter appeared in the sky above. Pointing to it, James said, “That.”
Jiron had seen similar machines in the sky before, only not configured in quite the same way.
“I doubt if they’ll unleash its firepower until we are out of the city.” Silently to himself, James added, I hope. His protective shield was great for stopping solid objects. But that last blast proved that shockwaves could still be deadly. Had it been more intense, he may have been knocked unconscious.
Cops and FBI agents lined the street and neighboring buildings. In the sky above, news ‘copters fought for position as each tried to get the best shot of the “terrorists” emerging from the building.
Ping!
James saw the man who shot at them, but refrained from taking his life. There would only be another to take his place. He could kill a thousand, and still there would be tens of thousands more. How many was he willing to kill?
Sickened and saddened by the degeneration of the situation, James refused to kill anymore. He came to a decision and brought them to a halt. Turning to Jiron, he said, “Things might get a bit blustery real soon.”
“Like that time in the Empire?” He well remembered how James had whipped up a sandstorm that quickly grew out of control. By the time it had subsided, many an Empire soldier had had their skin flayed from their bones by the wind propelled sand.
“No, more like that time after we met Aleya for the first time, near the border fortress, Kern.”
“Will we still be able to reach Jira?”
“No problem. She’s not that far away.” With that, he began to concentrate and summon the magic.
Magic gathered around him. Winds that had been but breezes before, gradually began picking up speed. Tendrils of magic reached far beyond the city limits and into the desert. There, they sent gusts slamming into the ground causing the desert sand to become airborne. As more and more sand entered the air, James began working the wind to bring it toward town.
A minute passed and the barrage of bullets waned as those firing began to realize something was not quite right. Instead of trying to escape, the two terrorists were simply standing in the middle of the street as if giving those firing a perfect target. Inexplicably though, none of the bullets seemed to be finding their marks.
Then a roaring began to be heard. Starting softly, it rapidly grew. Before they knew what was happening, a massive dust storm enveloped the city of Las Vegas. Not one of the storms that frequented the area was this. Instead, the wind-whipped sand was so dense, it was as if a California fogbank had rolled in.
People sought shelter as the sand stung them like a million angry bees. Everywhere was chaos except in the middle of the street where two people stood in protective cocoons. If someone had been able to see through the sandstorm, they would have seen a round glowing orb resting upon one of the men’s palms as they began making their way along the thoroughfare.
Jira was frightened. Strangers were around her and none were friendly. Men shouted at her in angry and threatening voices. Attempts were made to pierce her protective shell only to be met with failure. Tears fell as she clutched Uncle James’ crystal, wishing that her father would come and send these bad, scary men away.
And then, the shouting stopped. Looking up, Jira saw that she was no longer the focus of the men’s attention. A dust storm was rolling their way, swallowing up the town like an insatiable, hungry monster. She had only a moment to wonder where it came from before it came for her. Holding her breath and closing her eyes tightly, she braced for the impact.
But no impact came. Opening her eyes, she saw nothing but swirling brown outside her protective shield. The bad men were gone, but this new situation unnerved her almost as badly. Fear grew as the storm failed to diminish. Then, just when she was about to break down into tears once more, a light appeared from out of the storm and it was heading her way.
She wondered what fell beast it could be until she recognized that it was nothing more than Uncle James holding his orb. And behind him came her father. “Father!” she exclaimed. Jumping off the bus stop bench, she raced forward.
A protective shield, larger than the three individual ones, sprang into being to cover them. “Cancel your shields,” she heard Uncle James say. Canceling hers, she rushed into her father’s waiting arms.
“Oh, Jira,” Jiron said, gaving her the biggest hug she had ever had. “You did it! What a brave girl.” He glanced to James with a smile.
James nodded. “We best make our way out of here before the storm subsides.”
“How long do we have?”
Shrugging, James said, “I don’t know. An hour, maybe.”
Taking up his daughter, Jiron placed her atop his shoulders.
Then with James’ orb providing light within the swirling darkness, the three of them left the bus stop and vanished into the storm.
Chap
ter Twenty-Two
________________________
“We had them right in the palm of our hands!”
Members of the Task Force withered beneath Mr. Barnes’ tirade. Turning toward Agent Randle, he said, “So what happened?”
“They had some sort of protective field in place.”
Looking disgusted, Mr. Barnes shook his head. “A protective field?”
“That’s all we know to call it.” Signaling to another agent, he said, “Play it back.”
The monitor sprung to life and footage captured by the news choppers began to appear. “They didn’t have bullet proof vests on or anything like that. It was some kind of shield in place.”
“You ever hear about anything like this?”
Agent Randle shook his head. “No, sir. And neither have the tech guys. They believe such technology is in the works, but this is the first any of them have heard of an actual, working model. Guns and assault rifles seem to have no affect.”
“So how do we get through this?”
To the agent running the video playback, Agent Randle said, “Take us to where they emerged from the building.”
“Now, when they came out of the building, one of our guys hit them with a rocket.” As the video began to play and the two terrorists emerged from the building, there was a big explosion. “Pause it!” Then…”Take it back to just before the explosion.” To Mr. Barnes he said, “Watch.”
The Task Force leader watched closely as the image progressed at a snail’s pace.
Agent Randle directed Mr. Barnes’ attention to the lead terrorist’s feet. “Now look what happens when the rocket hits.” Explosion. “The guy is knocked back a step.”
“So?”
“It means, that if we hit this protective shield with a large enough bomb, the resulting concussion wave will severely hurt, or even kill, those inside.”
“Fighter jets are standing by at Nellis,” another agent added. “They’ve got those bunker buster bombs like they hit Saddam with loaded and ready to go.”
Light in the Barren Lands: Travail of The Dark Mage Book One Page 28