by Cameron, TR
He morphed his features along the way and turned his jacket inside out in case either of the men might have sensed a presence trailing them. They went into a restaurant, and he entered another whose windows looked out onto the street so he could keep an eye on the door that had swallowed up his quarry. He ate quickly and was outside before Finley emerged.
Bryant watched as the senator’s car pulled up, then hailed one to follow. Forty minutes later, they were both back where they’d started, him outside the brownstone and Finley inside. Bryant changed hats, flipped his coat again, and headed down the street.
His initial idea had been to march up and knock on the door, but if Finley were under surveillance, that would be too dangerous. Instead, he walked around the block and came in from the back of Finley’s house.
The windows on the first two stories had bars over them, ornate and attractive, but still an effective defense. He summoned his telekinesis to unlatch an upper window and slide it open, then used force magic to launch himself up to the ledge. He crawled inside, climbing quietly to the floor, and closed the window behind him.
Finley’s voice came as a surprise. “Turn around real slow. Any sudden movements and you’re going to find yourself bleeding from way more holes than you want to have in your body.”
He froze, then laughed. “Is that any way to treat an old friend, Aaron?”
* * *
A few minutes later, they were seated at the senator’s kitchen table, and Finley was shaking his head. “You’re an idiot; you know that? I could’ve shot you.”
Bryant nodded. “I will admit, I didn’t expect you to have a shotgun. Figured you more as a Taser kind of guy.”
His host replied, “Tasers can’t do much against a Kilomea or giant troll if they decided to come inside. The world is strange.”
“It is indeed. I hate to break it to you, but that shotgun wouldn’t do more than irritate a Kilomea or troll.”
Finley sighed. “I know. I just like the shotgun, okay?”
Bryant lifted a hand. “Not here to judge.”
“Why are you here?” The other man tipped another measure of bourbon into both of their glasses. “Probably easier and safer ways for you to arrange a meet.”
“What do you know about Kevin Serrano?”
The other man swirled his bourbon, looking down into it as if the answer was inside. “I figured that’s what this was about. Not much, I’m afraid. He’s a rising star, though it’s unclear exactly where he rests in the government organizational chart.”
Bryant frowned and sipped his drink. “Which is weird, right?”
“Totally weird. Usually, he gives off the impression he’s with the FBI. Maybe that’s true, but I don’t think so. I think his outfit is truly independent, even more so than yours. Probably empowered by some secret document that’ll never see the light of day with a specific purpose.”
He scowled. “Hunting down my team.”
Finley nodded once. “And you. Don’t leave yourself out. You’re an important part of the picture, too.”
“This is a damn convoluted way to address what they saw as a problem. I would’ve been willing to talk to Diana, maybe.”
The other man tapped the table with a finger. “Not from what I hear.”
He frowned and met his host’s eyes. “Which is?”
“That Sheen’s a wildcard, and you were too busy sleeping with her to keep her in check.”
He wasn’t quite kidding when he replied, “Say something like that to me again, and you’re gonna need that shotgun, Aaron.”
The senator leaned back and held up both hands. “I surrender. Mea culpa. I’m telling you what I heard, that’s all.”
“Any idea where I find the chuckleheads in charge?”
“No doubt you know where the Nevada senators are. You’re not going to accomplish anything with them. Serrano and his team are like ghosts, as near as I can tell. Not that I’ve tried to delve too deep since I don’t want to wind up on the target list with you. I wouldn’t be able to help you, then,” he finished with a small smile.
He laughed. “Sure, that’s the reason.”
Finley nodded. “I’m not secret agent material. We already knew that.”
“We did. However, you’re excellent at what you do. Can you find me a place to start looking?”
“I think so. Give me a day.”
“Good deal.”
Finley met his eyes. “Bryant?”
“Yes?”
The other man grinned. “Pick up the phone next time. I’d hate to shoot you by accident.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Kevin Serrano emptied his magazine into the target, then released it, letting it fall past his other hand as it pushed in another mag. He emptied that one into the target as well, scowling at the unusually wide spread of his shots.
He took off the ear protectors with a snarl. From behind him, Tash observed, “Not your best work, boss. You might want to cut back on the coffee a bit.”
He chuckled as he slipped a full magazine into the pistol and put it in its shoulder holster. “It’s not caffeine. It’s anger.” He turned to her and continued, “So, what happened?” He’d tasked her with discovering why their attempt to ambush the team at the bunker had failed.
“The trap was good. If we’d been there, we would’ve gotten them for sure. However, we weren’t there because the local FBI agent in charge thought he had the situation under control.”
Kevin shook his head. “Idiots abound.”
The witch nodded. “He decided to roll the dice, hoping for a number that would mean a promotion. Instead, he gets to report a failure. Of course, he’ll figure out a way to make it our fault.”
“Naturally.” He was silent for a time, thinking through options. “You know, I think this assignment is challenging enough that we’re going to need to go out of house. Let me make a call. You can bring the car around.”
Ten minutes later, he walked out the front door to find a black SUV waiting for him. It looked like a standard model but was heavily reinforced and capable of high speeds and delivering serious damage to any other participant in a collision.
Tash was behind the wheel. At need, the vehicle could run autonomously, but he generally felt that trusting a car to drive itself was a sucker bet if another option existed. He climbed in and gave her the destination. She asked, “On the books or off?”
“Definitely off.”
She opened the armrest and threw her phone inside, and he did the same. They would be out of contact for a while due to the signal-blocking capability of the box they’d put them in, but that was fine. She dialed in the override code to kill the SUV’s transponder and trip tracking, then stepped on the gas.
It took an hour to reach the unmarked turnoff to their destination. A long road led between large wooded sections on both sides, the branches above stretching to almost meet above them. They stopped at the heavy metal gate that suddenly appeared as they went around a curve. A guard asked from behind a bulletproof window, “Name?”
“Serrano.”
The barrier moved aside, and they drove onto what looked like a small military base. Buildings were clustered together to their left, and a large training area made up the remainder of the cleared space within the circle of trees. They pulled into the parking spot nearest the buildings and climbed out. Tash observed, “Apparently, being a military contractor pays well.”
He nodded. “I’m sure it does. Plus, I’m guessing these guys don’t turn over everything they find. Kind of like Sheen.”
“So, it’s okay for them, but not for her?”
“I don’t make the rules. And there’s a big difference between money and magical artifacts.”
She shrugged. “Fair enough.”
When they entered the lobby, a man in khakis, an Oxford shirt, and a black sweater atop it shook their hands. Kevin said, “Bradford, good to see you.”
“You too, Kev. Let’s go into my office to chat.” The man’
s office was easily three times the size of his and filled with everything from sports memorabilia to a World War I era sniper rifle mounted on the wall.
The man across the desk from him had been a sniper in the military, deployed several times. He’d allegedly retired after finishing his twenty but had gone into the private sector doing mostly the same job. Now, he ran one of the most secretive military contracting companies out there. Bradford asked, “So, what do you need?”
Kevin replied, “Support, not sure what kind yet. Ready to move at a moment’s notice.”
“Targets?”
“Small units. Mixed magicals and not. Highly trained.”
Bradford laughed. “So you’re the one in charge of the hunt for the people I keep seeing pictures of.”
Tash groaned. “Subtle boss, real subtle.”
Kevin swiveled his head to glare at his unapologetic second in command. “Shush, you.” He turned back to the other man. “Yeah, that’s us. We would’ve had some of them, too, except an overzealous FBI ladder climber decided to try to jump up a few rungs by going solo.”
Bradford laughed dismissively. “Heaven save us all from the Bureau. So much righteousness, so little skill.”
He felt obliged to chuckle at the other man’s comment. “So, give me a number.”
He did, and Kevin managed to hide his wince. That’s a lot. Going to have to hit some secret accounts for that. Fortunately, he’d known such a need might present itself and had arranged for off-the-books access to additional funding. “Done.”
Bradford nodded. “Cash. Two weeks upfront, another two in escrow with a mutually selected banker.”
“Agreed.”
“No magical support on your team?”
He shrugged. “We have a couple, back at the office.” He kept Tash’s abilities secret wherever possible, believing it gave him an edge in case things went wrong. That belief had been proven valid on several occasions so far, and he held no doubt it would again in the future.
Bradford slapped the desk in exaggerated approval. “Well, let me tell you, you came to the right place. Got a minute? I’d like to show you something.”
Kevin confirmed that he did, indeed, have a minute, and the other man led them to a huge building. It was three stories high and reminded him of a football team’s indoor practice facility but without the AstroTurf. Weightlifting gear was arranged in one corner, and a few tables and a refrigerator sat nearby. Bradford escorted them to the back of the space and gestured at a group of identically clad people engaged in an incursion scenario.
A small structure was the group’s target. He’d seen similar setups in other training facilities, including a few police departments. As they watched, a wizard stepped forward and slashed his wand down, turning the door into shards of wood that flew backward into the facsimile room. The rest of the team moved through the open door, guns at the ready.
Their host sounded proud as he said, “We’re still working on full integration of magicals and non-magicals. Most other groups in my line of work keep the two separate, but if you put the magicals under good tactical command, their skills can be really useful.”
Kevin felt his subordinate’s desire to respond like heat coming off her body and quickly said, “Excellent. We need to run, but I’ll have one of my people reach out to set up communication.”
Bradford escorted them out to their vehicle and waved farewell as they pulled away. Once they were past the outer gate, Tash finally spoke. “Your friend there is a racist.”
Kevin nodded. “No argument from me. I wouldn’t call him a friend. More like a useful tool. Emphasis on tool.”
The witch grunted. “All I can say is, with that attitude, he’d better watch out for friendly fire.”
“From the magicals on his team?”
“No. From me.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Max was beside himself with excitement, barking up a storm as Rath and Diana fitted his service dog vest around him. He wasn’t really a service dog, but he did work hard, and they wanted to keep him with them. Diana clipped the lead to his collar and said, “Let’s go take a look at this town.”
They walked down the shoveled sidewalks of their neighborhood, merging onto the main road after only a few minutes. It was cold and windy, a biting breeze that stung all exposed flesh. For Diana, that was only her face since she’d covered everything else. The heavy winter jacket she wore did nothing for her figure, but it kept her warm, which was all she cared about. It also hid the pistol in her shoulder holster.
The face others would see wasn’t hers. She was maintaining an illusion for herself and Rath, who simply appeared to be a child. He, too, was wrapped in heavy boots and an insulated puffy jacket that looked hilarious on him. She carefully didn’t laugh or mention that to him, though, simply enjoyed the sight. He and Max chased each other through the deep snow, and the troll threw snowballs while the dog tried biting them out of the air.
Diana grinned at their antics, her spirits lifting into their normal range for only the second time since they’d left the base, the first being the movie marathon with Rath after confirming her people were all okay. He’d chosen comedies instead of action films, and they’d laughed until breathing was a challenge. Maybe this won’t be such a bad place to spend the winter. Scenario Zulu had no specific duration, only a series of checkpoints they had to reach before they could bring the team back together.
The initial one of those had already gone awry. She’d found an email waiting in a rarely used account with the codewords that said Cara and Hank were safe, but their enemy had compromised their secondary base. Remembering that sobered her a little. Whoever’s after us is good at what they do. Bastards.
They reached the grocery, which was about the size of a convenience store in most of the places she’d lived. She stopped and pointed at her companions. “You two behave. Especially you, Max. But especially you, Rath.” The troll giggled, and she opened the door, passing through under the chiming bell that announced an entry. She grabbed a basket and moved down the aisles, filling it with easy meals.
Diana could cook, was pretty good at it, in fact, but didn’t have the mental energy to devote to it right now. So it would be pasta with jarred sauce and some additional spices, sandwiches, omelets, and a lot of toast and jam for the near term. As they looped around to the next row and walked back toward the front, she couldn’t help but overhear a woman talking to the cashier.
The voice was a little thready, definitely not young, and held a tone she categorized immediately as gossip. She smothered a smile at the thought that every small town was awash in conversation and speculation about the neighbors.
They looped around the end at the front of the store, and she got a look at the woman. Sure enough, she had short white hair and thick glasses, but the way she held herself spoke of frequent exercise, something she’d noticed most New Englanders shared, even more so on the Cape. Lots of hiking, lots of winter sports, plus swimming. Makes sense. Diana’s attention was caught by the woman saying, “I’ve never seen anything like it. Anthony hasn’t been himself at all. Do you know, he beat up his next-door neighbor?”
Diana stopped and made a show of looking through the contents of the shelves while listening carefully to the woman’s words as they spilled out of her. “I mean, that man had always been a pain. Not taking care of his property, scowling at everyone who walked by. But Anthony? I would have sworn he’d never hurt a fly. Nicest gent I ever knew. Well, not anymore.”
The woman changed topics as the cashier finished ringing her up, and Diana walked with purpose through the rest of the aisle and up the next, loading up her basket quickly. Rath tuned into her attitude because he and Max came along quietly, not distracting her. The woman was out on the street by the time they were at the cash register.
As the cashier rang them up, Diana asked, “Who was that? I think I’ve seen her around, but I’m not sure.”
“Oh, that’s Mrs. Victor. Her husband died a few
years ago. She lives a ways over there.” The woman gestured in the direction of Diana’s current residence. “Don’t think I’ve seen you in here before.”
Diana smiled. “Just staying in town for a few days, on the way up to Provincetown. We rented a house there. Going to do some painting.”
“Oh, you’re an artist? Have I seen your work?”
She laughed. “Not yet. You will, though. Keep an eye out for seascapes from P-town. That’ll be the name of the series. I hope to put it in galleries all over the Cape next summer, maybe catch some tourist cash.”
The cashier nodded. “Sounds like a good plan. I’ll be sure to remember.”
Diana took the paper bags, one in each arm, and headed out. Rath held onto Max’s leash as she strode quickly forward, wanting to close the distance with the older woman. Her quarry turned into a café a couple of blocks away. Diana said, “When we get there, you and Max stay outside with the groceries. I’m going to go in for a cup of coffee and some gossip.”
Rath replied, “And hot chocolate. And a bowl of whipped cream for Max.”
She laughed. “You drive a hard bargain, buddy. Sure.”
The troll added, “So cold here.”
“It is. I’d forgotten how wicked the winters are. Still, it’s a good hiding spot, probably. Assuming that woman believes the story I made up. Guess I better order some art supplies, just in case.”
He cocked his head to the side. “Does Amazon even deliver up here in the winter?”
She shrugged. “Probably. If not, I’m sure Andercarr does. They’re everywhere.”
She left the pair outside and walked in, taking her place in line at the ordering counter. The older woman’s voice was loud enough to carry from where she waited for her drink and talked to the barista. She was saying, “It’s just not like Anthony to behave that way. Scared his wife so much, she went to her sister’s. Now he’s all alone in the house. I have no idea what’s going on. And apparently, he must’ve hurt himself.”