Banshee Hunt

by Curtis, Greg

  That was a mistake. While the Illuminati might not care about the legality of their entry into the country, they did care about these people’s gifts not being registered with them. And they were very insistent that all of the gifted be registered. It was one of their rules. But the trio involved in the attacks on him weren’t and hence they had been unable to find any record relating to the giant, Sza or to Natasha. And here he had a church, perhaps with a hundred or more gifted souls, many of whom were probably also unknown to the Illuminati. That was a problem.

  It was also strange. Why would these people not have reported to the local Illuminati hall when they'd arrived in the country? Even if they didn't want to report to immigration, it would still have been the smart thing to do. Anyone with the gift would surely know that. The Illuminati were regulators in the magical world, but they weren't monsters. And why make trouble for themselves if they didn't have to? Then again, why hadn't his parents? He still didn't understand that.

  “All right people, stay tight and watch. Listen over the link. Detain anyone who leaves – quietly. And wait for my order.”

  The German would be proud of him James thought. Here he was, not just calling for back up but coming to the church with a small army of people. That had to be seen as a positive. Though he might be less pleased with the rest of his plan. Certainly the others had been critical when they'd found out barely an hour before. Will had called him a fool. Yasmin had told him he was suicidal. Daniels had asked him what sort of funeral he wanted. West and Peters had shaken their heads in disbelief. But it was his plan and it had been approved. The orders had come down from the elders for everyone. The plan was a go.

  In the end they had to know who their enemy was.

  The German might also have something to say about his paranoia. James still suspected that there was a mole somewhere in their organisation. And so he'd taken steps to make sure that no word of the plan could be leaked to the enemy. His own office had only been informed of the operation an hour before, and everyone had been watched ever since, just to make sure no one tried to make contact with anyone from the outside. They didn't like that, which was another reason they were upset with him. Regardless, he doubted any warning could have gone out.

  So now not only was his entire team on hand, all of them wearing jackets that proudly proclaimed them as members of Immigrations and Customs – ICE agents – they also had another dozen men with them all in the same jackets. ICE was a useful cover – especially here as all they needed to tell anyone was that they were looking for illegal immigrants. And in fact they were. It was just that those they were looking for were actually unregistered with the Illuminati.

  At half past ten exactly James got out of the car, tightened his duffel coat around him since there was a cool wind blowing, and wandered over the road to the church. He had a service to attend. A sermon to hear. And probably a priest to apprehend. Because who else, he thought, as he walked up the steps, would have greater control of people than the priest? It was a natural position for a fascinator to assume.

  This was the part of the plan that everyone thought was madness. That he went in alone into what could be the heart of enemy territory wearing nothing but a wire. But James knew it had to be done. Someone had to hear what was happening. And he backed himself to be clever and quick enough to get away if he had to. Besides, he was also armed. If everything went wrong he would still be alright. He hoped. But his hands were still a little clammy in his pockets.

  Inside, the church looked like any other. There were dark wooden floors and white painted walls. The roof beams were exposed to reveal the gabled roof. It was a long and narrow building, with the centre aisle barely wide enough for two people to walk down side by side, and rows of hard wooden pews on both sides. Up at the front James could see a traditional altar table covered with a white cloth embroidered with a gold cross. There was a small stone fountain to the right for baptisms. To the left stood the priest’s lectern. At the far end of the church behind the altar table was a stained glass window with a scene from the crucifixion.

  It could have been any typical country church, despite being near the docks. Perhaps even a Catholic church, though he wasn't familiar enough with them to be sure. But it wasn't. Because walking in through the double doors James felt an immediate chill. There was something very wrong here. But was that the church or the people?

  Still, he played his part. When nobody noticed him or even said anything much to him he accepted a hymn book from the usher, nodded his thanks and took a seat in one of the rear pews. No one seemed any the wiser that a hunter was among them. No one even seemed suspicious.

  Certainly no one said anything. But then why would they? No one would recognise him. He had taken a leaf from the Illuminati's book and come in disguise. Not a magical disguise – in a place filled with gifted that would have been spotted in an instant. Instead he’d used a simple one. He wore a light coloured duffel coat that ran to his knees and had the collar turned up as if he was cold. He had heavy glasses on – though the lenses in them were completely flat since he had perfect vision. And to complete things he was wearing a long blond wig, totally unlike his normal dark close cropped hair. He hated the wig, but together with the glasses and the raised collar it reframed his face, making him look completely different. If anyone knew what the hunter for New York looked like, they still wouldn't recognise him. Not unless they looked closely. And why would they? He was just another church goer.

  Really though James thought, with one of their number dead and another captured they should have been more wary. Assuming they knew of course. They might not. The news still wasn't reporting the name of the dead giant. They couldn't when no one other than his office knew it. And the fascinator might not have told the others. Then again most of the people in the church could have been regular church going attendees. Perhaps it was only a few among them who were involved? Only time would reveal that.

  He soon spotted his quarry sitting about six or seven rows in front of him, talking to an Asian woman. James recognised that dark, long hair of his in a heartbeat. But he didn't know the woman he was talking to. And when she looked around at the other attendees and revealed her face, he thought he should. There was something about her that made him wonder. He began to wonder even more when he saw her whispering into Sza's ear.

  Could she be the fascinator? James didn't know, but he instantly suspected she might be. Though it could have been just casual conversation, there was just something about the way she whispered into Sza's ear that gave him pause. It seemed too familiar perhaps when the two of them were obviously very different. It wasn't just their ethnicities. It was their social position. Sza was dressed as a working man. Neatly dressed for a Sunday service but not in a suit and tie. Meanwhile the woman was obviously from a much higher social strata. One where they wore finery to church including pearl necklaces, gold chains and high fashion. Really, she could have been attending a gala had she been wearing the right hat. Then again maybe it was the fact that when she whispered into Sza's ear he didn't seem to notice. James decided then and there that this was a woman he very much wanted to speak to in due course.

  But he couldn't do it just then. Not when the priest walked out and the service began. It was a traditional service, starting with songs from the hymn book, and then prayers and readings, before the priest's sermon. All in all it struck James as very normal. Even the sermon itself was normal. Nothing was said about the struggle of these new migrants in the land. Nothing about the Illuminati either nor the two missing members of the congregation. But then as the service continued James began to realise that the church wasn't behind the attacks.

  It was the woman. Throughout the service he watched her move from one parishioner to the next, something that shouldn't happen but which no one complained about. Seemingly she was just talking to them, but always he noticed, touching their hand lightly with her fingers and whispering into their ears at some point. And no one seemed to notice. Little
by little he became more convinced that she was the fascinator and the church was merely her hunting ground. But he still didn't know who she was.

  She was on the shorter side, perhaps only just over five feet tall, and of thin build. In age he would have put her in her fifties with dark hair tied back in some sort of bun. There was nothing particularly distinctive about her save for the money she openly wore on her person. Money that set her very far apart from everyone else in the church.

  When he could James discretely took photos of her and the people she was speaking with. How useful the shots would be he didn't know. It was hard to take pictures of someone's face without them realising that they were being snapped. And as he was at the back of the church he mostly seemed to be getting the backs of people's heads. Those outside he hoped would get more. All he had to do was give them enough detail to recognise them.

  One thing slowly became obvious though as the service progressed. This wasn't going to be as bad as he'd feared. He had come here expecting to have to take down at least half the congregation and the priest. He had expected a fight. It looked like instead he had one Asian woman and half a dozen others that needed to be taken into custody. This could be easier than he'd expected. The worst thing he had to do during the entire sermon was throw some bills in the collection plate when it was passed around. That was a much better scenario than what he'd feared.

  Still, when the service ended he was tense. This was the time when if something was going to go wrong it would. Those outside needed to be prepared. Because depending on how things went they might have to come rushing in. Or they might have to set up a perimeter and try to catch those who tried to flee.

  It ended peacefully enough though. The priest having finished the service thanked everyone for attending and walked down the aisle to the front entrance. And then the people started filing out. Things seemed organised and relaxed. Nothing seemed out of place. And even though he had his phone recording them, barely anyone even looked at him.

  Until the Asian woman walked down the aisle and spotted him recording her.

  In a heartbeat everything changed. He could see it in her face. There was shock, alarm and then anger, all in a single second. And then she screamed.

  The sound was wordless. Meaningless to James save for the fact that it hurt his ears. But it meant something to others. To the half dozen or so he had seen her talking to. They understood. And he understood it too when he saw a fireball streaking toward his head.

  All hell broke loose in the church, and he had no time to worry about anything other than survival. The wards placed on him would protect him from the direct effects of magic. So the detonator could not blow him up and the fire starter not set him alight. But they wouldn't stop him from being killed by an explosion or a fireball. He leapt over the back of the pew while the fireball demolished the wall beside where he'd been sitting. And then he drew his gun and shot the man. It wasn't a good shot, catching him in the shoulder, but it still spun him around and sent him falling backwards screaming. He would not be causing him any more trouble.

  But others would.

  Without any warning the ceiling exploded in a burst of fury above his head, and even while James leapt out of the way, lightning flashed across the entire room. Meanwhile the other parishioners were running and screaming, adding confusion to the entire disaster. But that was for the best as while they ran in all directions they bought James a little time. Enough to vault over the back of the pew and find the floor behind it. Enough to then train his weapon on Sza who was hunting for him in the confusion. Once James put a bullet in Sza’s hip though the detonator forgot about everything other than the pain and fell to the ground.

  Bullets were good. Better than the stupid magic weapon the Illuminati wanted him to use. For a start almost none of the gifted were immune to bullets and when they got hit the pain robbed most of the witches and wizards of their ability to cast.

  He should be calling for back up James thought. But in the noise and confusion he didn't think anything he said to them would have been able to be heard. And it might give his position away if he shouted. Besides they had already had enough warning. The churches windows had been blown out. They had to have seen that,

  Smoke started filling the church. Lots of it, all thick and black, and that added to the chaos. It also worked in James' favour as the rest of the fascinator’s pawns couldn't come after him as an organised group. Still, the first of the others managed to find him while he was still crouched on the floor. But even as the man leapt on him, arms outstretched and fingers curved like talons, James rolled and the man hit the floor instead. Before he could get up James kicked him in the head. The man might be under the control of some sort of rage compulsion, but that hadn't made him very smart as far as fighters went.

  Three down. James congratulated himself on that and started to get up. But before he made it all the way a young woman came running up from out of nowhere and leapt on him as the lightning flashed once more. She managed to get a punch in, but really, even with all the magical anger rushing through her she simply didn't have enough strength to hurt him. He on the other hand could simply pick her up and hurl her away. She was only small and he was filled with adrenaline.

  By the time he'd found his feet she was just getting up but facing the wrong direction. So he shot her in the bum. That ended her fight fairly quickly as she fell to the floor with a shriek. But as the lightning danced across the ceiling once more he knew he still had work to do.

  Just then the church doors crashed open and people started running in and he knew his back up had finally arrived. More importantly one of them had the gift of dispassion and from the instant he opened his mouth and let out his song, people started falling to the floor to lie there helplessly. Few could resist him. In fact only those like James who were covered in protective wards could do so. The same wards that had probably stopped him from getting fried by the lightning.

  Seconds later the battle was over. People were lying all over the floor, completely overcome by the spell. Not unconscious, not even paralysed. Simply unable to find the will to move. And that was a good thing James knew as the others started grabbing the helpless parishioners and dragging them out of the church. It had been too close, something that was brought home to him by the blood he could feel trickling down his forehead. He went for his phone instead which he'd dropped in all the confusion, and then after tucking it away in his coat he started hunting through the masses for the Asian woman. Finding her was the key. Once they had her, everything ended.

  But she was nowhere to be seen and he quickly started to worry that she'd got away. There were people everywhere, lying on the floor, collapsed over pews, but save for the Illuminati he couldn't see anyone else moving. And she wasn't one of those on the floor that he could see. The church probably had a rear exit.

  A crack above made James look up. The fire had taken hold of the roof and one of the walls and he knew he didn't have any more time to hunt her down. Lives were in danger and they had to get the people out of there now. It hurt, in fact it felt like failure, but it was what had to be done. Besides, he told himself, there was no point in searching any more. She was probably long gone. The others had just been some sort of distraction she'd used to make her escape.

  James grabbed the nearest warm body to him and started dragging the man out towards the front entrance while the roof burned above him. There was nothing else to do.

  Ten minutes later everyone was out and the church was well ablaze. Fire trucks were already arriving on the scene, and James was checking the parishioners looking for the Asian woman and her cohort. Or were they victims? Four were easy enough to spot. Three had bullet holes in them, and the fourth the beginnings of a massive bruise to the side of his face.

  The other two he had more difficulty with. The one who'd cast the lightning he hadn't seen at all, and the sixth he not only hadn't seen but also didn't know what his or her gift might be. All he had to go by were the pictures
he'd snapped of the backs of their heads. As for the Asian woman, there was no sign of her. He also had no real hope that the others would be able to tell them anything about her. Not for a while anyway.

  It wasn't an unqualified success as operations went James supposed, especially when blood kept running down his forehead. But they had some people in custody now and images of a suspect. Probably they'd broken up some sort of plot. That wasn't a complete failure.

  But then things became a hundred times more difficult as the priest came rushing up to him to complain about the damage to his church. In his mind at least there was only one person to blame. It didn't matter that James hadn't started the fight. Or that he'd simply been sitting quietly when he'd been attacked. He was still responsible. And the priest was going to make a complaint.

  James sighed quietly when he heard that. Another complaint? It was beginning to look as though he needed his own department just to deal with them. But what else was new?