Banshee Hunt

by Curtis, Greg

  But finally he had the scent.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The following morning did not begin in its usual way. In fact it began earlier than normal with someone attempting to smash down his door at four AM. But even as James reacted to that, the door finally gave way and a stun grenade was tossed in. He recognised the crack as it went off even through his bedroom wall. After that a dozen officers in black tactical gear charged into the apartment, broke down the bedroom door, and tossed another stun grenade in together with tear gas. Lots of tear gas canisters. After that, while he was still lying there reeling and choking with tears streaming from his eyes, they grabbed him from his bed and threw him to the floor. Being handcuffed after that was almost a pleasant experience by comparison.

  James tried to find out what was happening, yelling questions at the officers whenever he could. But the answers he got back were madness. They were yelling at him about being under arrest on terrorism charges and having bombed a church, but that was as much as he could work out before someone tasered him. Several someones actually and several times. After that things became a little vague.

  There was the obligatory beating of course. He wasn't sure why that was happening when he was already down and cuffed, but a number of the black clad officers felt the need to kick him every so often and yell abuse. Then they tasered him some more, laughing as he convulsed. They also didn't let him dress, which meant he was lying there on the floor in pain wearing only a pair of fleece lined track pants and with blood running down from his mouth.

  After that he was dragged out of his apartment. Literally dragged as no one seemed to want to help him to his feet. And then he was tossed down three flights of stairs one after the other and finally thrown in the back of a dark police van – twice! The first time he was thrown in so hard that he hit a security pole in the van used to cuff prisoners to. He bounced back off it only to lie there on the road staring up at the officers in shock and even more pain. That wasn't supposed to happen. Nor were they supposed to keep tasering him and kicking him while he lay there – but they did.

  After that he was driven at high speed across town before ultimately being dragged into the station. He didn't know what station it was – it wasn't his old one and he hadn't had a view of anything from the back of the van. He didn't get much of a chance to see anything of it either as he was carried through it. Not much other than the green lino floor and the holding cells.

  The floor of the holding cell though was a nice place to be he decided as he lay on it. It was cool and solid and most of all it didn't scream incoherently at him or beat him up. It also gave him a chance to collect his thoughts. Mostly it gave him a chance to register that this wasn't normal. It definitely wasn't procedure.

  No one had read him his rights. No one had uncuffed him either, leaving him lying there, bleeding on the cell floor still in manacles. And then there was the violence. Too much violence. The police didn't do that. And they had done it in front of witnesses. A dozen black clad officers had pulled a half dressed man out of his apartment at four in the morning. Openly abusing him they had dragged him along the ground like a corpse, tossed him down the stairs and laughed at him as they did so – and all in front of the neighbours.

  He thought the chances of this not ending up on the nightly news were slim. Moreover his neighbours were likely to be only the start of those who lodged complaints. Worse, there would be video. It was the twenty first century. There was always video.

  But they might have problems even before that. Looking at the floor he could see trails of red all the way along it that he knew was his blood. These men might have gone mad. In fact it was the only explanation he could think of for what they'd done. But what about the rest of the police officers when they turned up for work and saw that? It was bound to cause people to ask questions. And if someone thought to check the station security they would witness the crime in action. That was madness. No one had bothered to clean the blood up. And he guessed that that same blood would be seen smeared throughout the rest of the station, covering the green lino floors he'd been dragged along. Did these officers have no thought of covering up their crime?

  James would have asked, but there was no one around to ask. Once they'd thrown him in the holding cell, everyone had vanished for some reason. Maybe they'd gone back home to bed, their work for the morning done? Even the people who were supposed to be on duty watching over the prisoners were nowhere around. But someone always had to be on duty when even a single cell was occupied. That was protocol.

  He could use a doctor. That was his next thought. James was hurting. He was sure that some of his ribs had been fractured. His jaw was swollen. Blood was pouring from his nose and his forehead while one of his eyes was so swollen that he couldn't see out of it. His left shoulder felt like it had been smashed. And every other part of him was bruised and battered. Unfortunately he was pretty sure a doctor hadn't been called. One should have been – it was procedure. But nothing about this was procedure.

  In fact everything about it was wrong.

  The statement about the church being bombed was wrong too. Somewhere in the middle of all the craziness the officers had screamed at him that he'd bombed a church. He could only think of one they could possibly mean. The problem was that it hadn't been bombed. Fire balled yes but not bombed. And fireballs didn't leave bomb residue or blast craters. Neither did lightning storms or detonations. In fact nothing about the crime scene said bomb. That had been helpful to them as the Illuminati had done their clean up. In fact they'd hardly had to do any clean up at all.

  No bomb residue or blast zone, only scorch marks from electrics gone wrong. The conclusion even before West had started working his magic had always been going to be an electrical fire taking hold in the roof and then causing a stampede. As for the people he'd shot, they were nowhere to be found, and witness statements were unable to help with them. Some people had heard the gun shots and might have reported them, but popping sounds could just as easily be attributed to fluorescent lights going bang, especially when people were running and screaming. People seen lying on the floor bleeding could simply be the natural outcome of a panicked stampede. No one knew that what had happened had been anything other than an electrical fire and a stampede. But just to make things completely certain, most of the people in that church had been gifted of one sort or another. Unregistered gifted. They were happy to say fairly much what the Illuminati told them to. All they wanted was for it to go away.

  So there was no evidence of a terrorist attack. Officially there was an old church with faulty wiring and a service that had gone tragically wrong. There was an ICE agent – him – caught up in the mess as he was participating in the congregation. And there was a story that had lasted on the news for a single night. What there wasn't as far as he knew, was a police investigation. The police didn't investigate accidental fires. The moment the report had hit their desks, the case had been closed. But even if they'd had cause to think it was something more than that the police didn't lead terrorist investigations either. That was the Fed's job.

  Twenty minutes later though, his questions were answered as a middle aged Asian woman strode into the holding area with a confident look on her face. It was then that he understood. This had nothing to do with the police. They were just pawns. The banshee had sent them for him. And she hadn't done it simply so she could have a chat.

  “Soo Chi Harper Lee.” James greeted her even before she opened her mouth. He wanted to get the upper hand from the outset. Although trying to do so while lying on the floor, bleeding and in pain, wasn’t particularly easy. He had a credibility problem.

  “You know my name?”

  She looked surprised, even a little taken aback. But she didn't look frightened. And why would she? She thought she held all the cards. And this was her version of payback for his spoiling her operation. The beating would only be the start of it. It would end with his death. James knew if he was to have any hope of surviving he ha
d to make her think she didn't hold all the cards. He had to break her.

  “Of course. All of the Illuminati know your name. We have your face. And we've destroyed your operation. Your face will be plastered all over the nightly news as a triad member. Soon your bank accounts will be completely empty too. And there'll be nowhere in the world you can run to. Even your own family won't take you back. Not when their financial concerns are now in the doghouse because of you. Their casino's pretty much gone and they'll know it's your fault. But please do call them, their lines have traces on them.”

  “Worse for you though, now you've gone and attacked a hunter. An attack on one of the Illuminati is seen as an attack on all. You should know that.”

  James smiled at her, calculating that it would unsettle her more. He knew he needed to. Especially when he saw the gun in her belt. He guessed she hadn't sent the police to grab him just so they could have a chat. This was about anger and vengeance. “You should enjoy your last few days of freedom. Because the rest of your life is going to be really bad. It may also be really short.”

  “Yours may be shorter.” She smiled menacingly at him. “Hunter.” But she wasn't nearly as confident as she pretended. There was a quiver in her voice. The look of the hunted in her eyes.

  “Then shoot me and stop wasting my time.”

  James pretended a bravado he just didn't have. In theory the wards he had been spelled with might protect him – he actually didn't know. Mostly they were there to stop magical effects. Direct magical attacks. So he couldn't be spelled. A fascinator could not take control of his thoughts. A detonator could not explode him. But a possessed man could still hit him and a fireball could still burn him nicely. And bullets he wasn't sure of but he assumed they would hurt him. After all, if people were still able to beat and kick him, then the chances weren't good. Still, he could not show weakness. Not here. Not now.

  “All in good time hunter.” She pulled out her weapon and started brushing it down with her fingers as if worried about dust. It was the banshee's turn to do the intimidating.

  “I think I need to get some answers first. Like how did you get on to me? And what else do you know?”

  “Really? You don't know?” James mocked her, trying to get under her skin once again. And then despite the pain involved he crawled up to his feet. He couldn't appear weak. Besides, she had a gun and he was handcuffed and trapped in a cell – a sitting duck. He had only one hope and how well it worked would depend on how quick he was on his feet.

  “Besides, you didn't come for that. You may have told yourself that you did. But deep down inside you know the truth. This is about vengeance. I spoiled your plans. I've destroyed your life. You came to kill me; nothing else.” James knew he was right. He could see the hatred and fury moving behind her dark eyes. He recognised it because it also lived within him.

  “Don't pretend you know me!” Her grip tightened on the gun.

  “I do know you. I'm a hunter and you're my quarry. And I see the shit in your soul.” And he did. Maybe it was part instinct and part a dozen years as a cop but he'd also read the files on her in depth. “You spent years planning your new casino. You thought it would be the key to your financial independence. Your magical kingdom for the rest of your life. And I took it away from you. All of it, gone. I crushed your dreams. And you can't deal with that.”

  “But it's more. This was your ticket out of the family business. Out of just being an accountant. Being the minor daughter who never got to make the decisions. This was your one glorious chance to be your own boss. To rule. It was your moment in the sun. And now it's gone forever.”

  “You're going to be hunted. Soon you’ll be caught. Your powers are going to be bound and you'll be locked away for the rest of your life. It's only a matter of time. And worst of all everything your family always said about you – that you can't be relied upon – will be proven true. You're a failure. A mistake.”

  “Be honest. You didn't do this bone headed thing to learn something from me. There's nothing I could tell you that will help you. You're beyond help. This is only about anger and hatred.”

  James could see the rage growing in her eyes, and while it was dangerous to make an angry woman with a gun even more furious, it was what he had to do. He needed her total attention on him. Her eyes focussed purely on him.

  “Are you trying to get yourself shot?”

  “By you? Hardly.” James mocked her. “We both know you're the failure of the family. You don't do things yourself. You keep your hands clean by getting others to do it for you. And that's not going to change. You don't have the guts to look me in the eyes and pull the trigger. Not in cold blood.”

  Soo Chi's response was an incoherent scream of rage. It might have been meant to be an insult. He didn't know. But what James did know was that her eyes were focussed completely on his. And also that the gun in her hand was rising. She was going to kill him. It was time to act.

  “Abadon!” James cried out the word and instantly everything went to hell. There was a blinding flash of light that turned the entire wing of the holding cells into a giant flash bulb. One that his would-be killer got straight in the eyes.

  Soo Chi screamed and instantly reacted, trying to cover her eyes with her arms, forgetting in a heartbeat that she was holding a weapon. Naturally the gun went off, the sound unbelievably loud in the enclosed space.

  The bullet missed James, though it took him a second or two to realise that. It took him another second to realise that all those other bangs he'd heard were ricochets. You should never shoot a weapon into a concrete cell. Bullets bounced. But that didn't matter to him. What mattered was that his enemy was standing there, rubbing at her eyes, gun in hand and screaming. She was completely blind – at least for the moment. His plan had worked.

  He knew the pain she was feeling. The one instruction he had been given when he'd been warded with the enchantment years before, was to never release the spell while looking into a mirror. Naturally he hadn’t listened, and the blindness had lasted for a good five minutes, followed by another half hour of seeing thousands of shades of red and green everywhere he looked. The flash was one of the most intense things he'd ever seen and for the longest time he'd stood there thinking he would never see again. He guessed that that was exactly what Soo Chi was thinking just then as she rubbed at her eyes and wailed in fear.

  Then the sirens went off and confusion turned to complete chaos. It was a beautiful sound. Obviously someone outside the wing had heard the gunshot. Then they'd probably checked the security cameras and hit the alarms. The banshee had worked her magic on a squad of police, but even she had limits. It took time for her spell to be woven on people, and she hadn't had a chance to catch everyone. Which was why he could soon hear the sound of feet running in the distance.

  Soo Chi could hear them too and her first reaction was to aim the gun in the general direction of the sound. She was panicking. She knew she was in trouble. She had to get away. But she couldn't do that when she was completely blind. She didn't even know which way to run. Her immediate reaction was to fire twice more in the direction of the feet and stop them coming.

  It stopped the feet running, though whether she hit anyone James didn't know. But of course firing at officers in a station was always a mistake. The people stopped running but they started shouting instead as they called for backup. And then someone started firing back down the corridor. She was blind and under attack. Soo Chi's problems had just become a thousand times worse. The minute or two she might have bought herself by shooting at the officers had potentially just cost her, her life. Meanwhile James was forgotten.

  She couldn't see him. She couldn't see anything. And by the looks of things she'd got turned around in the confusion. She didn't even know where his cell was let alone him. She was panicking. Her only hope was to shoot back in the general direction where the shots had come from, and the moment they stopped, turn and run blindly away from them, hoping that she didn't crash into anything. S
o that was exactly what she did. Shooting the gun blindly she ran, screaming in terror.

  Inevitably she hit something. James couldn't see her by then – she was too far down the corridor and he was locked in his cell unable to stick his head out through the bars to look. But he heard her hit something followed by the sound of the gun going off again. And that was followed by her screaming some more. His dearest hope was that she'd shot herself by accident. Or that the police would shoot her. The woman could do with being shot.

  After that there was the sound of more people running. And finally police officers in blue instead of black came into view, all with their weapons drawn as they sprinted past him. There was more gun fire. And more screaming from the banshee. Obviously things weren't going well. But the one thing he knew as he stood there in pain was that he was safe. Soo Chi was nowhere in sight. In fact judging by the sound of the gunfire which was growing more distant, she was making her escape.

  But that was alright James told himself. She could run for now. He was hurting; badly. He was bleeding too and he needed a doctor. But he was alive. He had to cling to that. As he could to the fact that despite being beaten, hand cuffed, thrown in a cell and left as a sitting duck for the banshee, he'd still beaten her.