"Well some guys were whining that I hit too hard, but you know how pussies are." You could hear the doubt start up in his voice; I think he started to figure it out.
"Look, I've been furry for almost twenty years. I didn't even fight for the first couple, it was just too much of an advantage. Your pain receptors are WAY different now, what stings a bit to you, is a broken bone to an uninfected. You hit way harder, if you're still swinging at the perceived power level you used to use, it's no wonder the whole damn knight's council is peeved at you. Here, take a look at the back of my helm, where you killed me in round two." I handed off my old helm (I think Mary had my new one, I lost track of it in all the blah, blah, blah of the awards).
He got a look at it as I said "That's twelve gauge steel you dented the piss out of."
"Oh. I guess I might better crank back a little."
"Take some time, and work with someone. Talk to the King, or to my knight Aethelred, or Hel, any of the Dukes or Super Dukes." I said as I started getting out of armor.
"What about you? You're the one guy in this kingdom that actually knows what it's like." Reynard looked, challenging me.
"Man, love to, can't. Work won't permit it right now." I said as I pulled a tunic and some leggings on.
"Not even on weekends?"
"This is the first weekend I've had off in...what month is this?" I asked, momentarily lost as to time.
"Dude! What do you do?"
"I'm a Federal Cop."
"Oh! Well gotta go get out of armor, catch you later."
It's funny how often the reaction to my job is that response. Mary was behind Reynard with her knuckles in her mouth trying desperately not to bust a gut laughing. Reynard turned and walked off quickly, I don't think he saw her, which is probably good, I don't think he's the sort that would like being laughed at. After we got everything packed up, I was tired, thirsty as Hel, and in desperate need of some chow. I'm in pretty good shape, but we started at about ten in the morning. It was now five p.m., and I had been wearing seventy pounds of armor for seven hours, fought fifteen fights, not counting warm ups, and those last three were real bears. Oh, and breakfast at eight a.m. was the last food I had eaten. It seemed that I wasn't getting any chow just yet, as I could see the King coming this way moving with purpose. (Thomas moving with purpose looks like an African Bull elephant coming at you...he may not be running, but you sure don't want to be in the way.)
He got up to me and his guards sort of casually made him some space. It wasn't obvious, but everyone sort of moved away from earshot a little. "I saw you have some words with your opponent a couple moments ago, Johann. Did this have anything to do with our talk earlier?" he asked when he got close enough to talk softly.
"Why, yes, in fact, it did, your Maj."
"Care to share?" he asked with an eyebrow cocked up.
"Well, short form, because frankly, I'm wiped, and need some food and beer. He hasn't been a 'Thrope for long, caught it just before coming down, implied that the disease was WHY he moved down. I'm not sure he realized how much the disease changes you, even in human form. My recommendation was that he takes a little while off fighting, find a good local knight, and recalibrate both his shots and what a good blow feels like. He wanted me to take the job, but I can't...work." I said with a sigh.
"OK, I'll have someone look into helping with that. Go, get some food, I may drop by later at the camping hall."
Fortunately for everyone (when I'm hungry, I'm not a very nice person) the Greymoors had seen me come off the field often enough, they had some cheese and sausage waiting on me with a nice English ale. By the time I had thrown that down, the real food was ready. We spent the rest of the evening drinking, telling tall tales, singing songs, some period, some not, and some straight out of Sci/Fi fandom. If you draw a Venn Diagram of SCA, Fandom, and general nerddom it looks like a three lobed cam, but that's OK, these are my people, I was home. One of the great storytellers of all time, one James the Obscure, came by, to tell a couple tales from one of the Eddas. James was an old school Skald, he memorized all of the tales he told, used the original style of cadence, and a liberal enough translation to make the rhyming scheme match fairly closely. He's great; when he goes, something magical will go with him. He's in his 80s I think, and his health isn't what it once was. All of which caused me to give a thought to Uncle Lars, and Tyr. "Guys, look after James when he shows up, HUH? Surely there's room at the hall for another Skald?"
I heard, in my mind, Lars saying "I've known James longer than you have, I've got this." Now why didn't that surprise me?
The next day had a couple smaller tournaments that I didn't enter, figuring that it would be rather anticlimactic after yesterday, so I did some marshaling for them. Then it was time to pack up and go home, and sleep in a real bed for a night.
The next morning Mary went back to the U to catch up on backlogged work. It seems that even if you're not teaching, being a tenured professor means there's always work to do, and there's the constant demand to do research. "Publish or perish" is the saying. I did my morning PT, went to the office to pick up the shopping list, get briefed on how we were going to get these guys the Hel out of the hole they were living in, and into some help and reintegration to whatever level they wanted, without getting killed in the process.
Chapter Nineteen
As I pulled into the parking lot of the office, I could tell this was not going to be a good day. There were two Fedmobiles in the parking lot, and a new Mercedes. No one in our office drives a Mercedes, Hel, until very recently no one in our office could afford a new Mercedes. I contemplated driving away and calling, but you know, I'm just not good at walking away from a fight.
I walked into the office past Tammy's desk, and the scent of sugarcane, rum and the grave hit me like a brick. There was a surprise...NOT! Special Agent Joseph Bourgeois...doing magic in our office. Well, that accounted for one of the Fedmobiles, now, who was in the other one, and in the Mercedes? I rounded the corner, and saw Bourgeois, two other fed types, and a civilian. How did I know? Well, to start with the cops were all armed, and all adapted that bladed stance that a cop has when he's talking with someone that he doesn't like or doesn't trust, and the civilian had the obvious air of someone who's extremely powerful (at least in their own mind) and is putting up with the minions until they decide to put the hammer down.
Murphy and Captain Roberts were on the other side of the exchange, and it didn't look like it was going well for anyone concerned. Murphy had that look that said "I'm listening to you only so that I can testify to what you were saying when IA gets involved." I didn't really know Roberts well enough to read him like I could Murphy, but he didn't look happy. No one had seen me yet, so I decided to give it a couple seconds and see what developed.
Bourgeois and company seemed to be trying to piss Murphy off, but they were doing it subtly. Nothing that was being said was actionable, and nothing was really so overboard as to get the reaction that Murphy and Roberts were exhibiting...that's when it hit me. This was a set up, one of the clowns was wearing a wire and/or a video set. Well, let's see about THAT!
The civilian had just asked something about where Murphy's pussy (pregnant pause) cats were, so I piped up "Well, one of us is right here." As I did so, I reached into the pocket of my coat, and pulled out some sweet grass in a twist with a couple other herbs, and a lighter from the other side. As I walked up to the conversation, I lit the twist, muttering a few words very quietly, came up to Bourgeois and blew the smoke in his face. His spell went away with an almost audible "pop", and he, the civilian, Murphy, and Roberts simultaneously changed facial expressions. Bourgeois, Murphy and Roberts all looked surprised, shocked even. The civilian just looked annoyed, which is interesting...
Bourgeois, Murphy and Roberts all started speaking at once: Murphy asked "What the fuck was...?" Roberts asked "What the Hell just...?" Bourgeois said "What did you just do? The Senator promised..." Murphy and Roberts stopped speaking as soon as the
y realized Bourgeois was speaking, Bourgeois stopped talking when the civilian looked at him and screamed "SHUT THE FUCK UP!"
"Good morning everyone, it seems like everyone knows who I am, but in case there's someone here who doesn't: Hi, I'm Detective John Fisher, Park Police. I know who you are (pointing at Bourgeois), you're Officer Bourgeois, and you're under arrest on the charges of: using magic against a law enforcement officer in the performance of his duty, two counts, ah that's a gross misdemeanor by the way, interfering with a law enforcement investigation, another gross misdemeanor, and probably entrapment, which under the aggravating circumstances is a class C federal felony. Now who the Hel are you two?" (pointing at the civilian, and the other fed) "And which one of you has the camera and/or the wire, oh and I want the recording, it'll be going into evidence. Oh, and will someone please relieve Officer Bourgeois of his gun, search him, and remove the fetish in his pocket?"
By gods, whatever else you can say about me (and trust me, there's been a lot said), you can't say I don't know how to make an entrance. That firmly blew the place up, with everyone speaking at once, and no one being heard, until I reached around and cuffed ol' Bourgeois, stripped him of his gun, thrust my hand into his pocket, and pulled out his "ju-ju" (actually what's known by magic users as a 'fetish') and handed it to Murphy. That happened about as fast as I can move, which is pretty fast indeed. The other fed went for his gun as I was stripping Bourgeois of his, so I just pointed the one in my hand at his nose and said "NO! I will drop you, and one of you has this all on video or at least audio, so I'll walk. Just keep your hands where I can see them until I find out who has the wire." About this time I started to smell candy corn and sawdust. Well, there was only one person left that could be starting a spell, so I swung the pistol to cover him, and said "That spell you're about to cast better be able to freeze me in my tracks, or I'll shoot you where you stand. And it better be able to stop my bosses too."
By now, Murphy and Roberts were drawing their weapons as well, so this civilian decided that discretion was the better part of valor, and placed his hands in the air, fingers spread, and the smell went away.
"Officer Fisher, I'll have your badge for this. Excessive use of force, false arrest, assault on..." That's as far as I let the civilian get before I interrupted him.
"OK, I get it; you're pure as the driven snow. Now, who are you? Gently, using one hand, and saying nothing, get me some ID out. Oh, and bear in mind, that as per testimony and certification by the Washington State crime lab in Olympia I am certified to be able to detect magic in use, and to testify to that effect in a court of law. This is currently a law enforcement activity under state and federal law, interference in this activity by magical means is punishable as a gross misdemeanor, or if that means rises to the level of assault, as a class C felony." I said all of this in a fairly monotone voice.
By now I would have been more than happy to just shoot all three of these twits, but I was positive that there was a recording device; it's the only reason that they could have been trying to piss Murphy off. Trust me, you DON'T want to piss Murphy off unless you can't avoid it; or you're taping her actions so that you can screw her over later. (And then only if you are going to be a LONG way away or otherwise untouchable when you screw her over) So I wanted to get this on the record.
The civilian pulled out a credentials wallet, using the approved two finger grab, and let it flip open. Seems this was one "Barry Daniels, Chief of Staff for Senator John Brown (D) Iowa". Well, well, well, wonder if the senator knows his chief of staff is a magic user? While I was looking at that, I went ahead and frisked Mr. Daniels, thoroughly...no wire. Well, that only left the other fed. So I turned to him "OK, your turn." Sure enough, in his breast pocket was a pen with a lens on the top of the clip. So I took that, along with his ID that named him as "District Special Agent in charge, FPI, Sean Flandry, Great Plains region". "Well, Agent Flandry, you're a little off your reservation aren't you? Oh, and thanks for the record of this conversation" I said with a smile "It's so nice when the bad guys give you everything you need to hang them with." All this while removing Flandry's gun, backup, cuffs, cuff keys (five of them), pepper spray, and asp, and setting them on the conference table.
"We're not the bad guys, Fisher, you are!" Flandry growled. "You're the abomination here, and further, an abomination that's covering up the murder of a Marine and the son of a senior Senator. How dare you try to make us the evil ones in this picture, you freak?"
As Flandry was saying this, Daniels was looking daggers at him. "Flandry, you've done enough damage. Shut the fuck up, and let the adults talk."
Well Flandry didn't like this one little bit, but he also shut up, damn it. (I did mention the video recorder was going...)
I looked around, and Richard Watson was over at his desk pretending to go through some paperwork while watching what was going on. Dick may not have been terribly comfortable with the intermittently furry, but he would back our play in a second over the FPI, nobody with a badge (except maybe the BATFags, primarily because they were also universally despised) wanted anything to do with these thugs, they gave badges a bad name. So I waved him over, saying "Officer Watson, please take Mr. Bourgeois to the holding room." I pulled the ubiquitous card out of my shirt pocket and turned to Bourgeois and read it to him. "You have the right to remain silent, if you give up that right, anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, and to have that attorney present with you before answering any questions, if you desire an attorney and cannot afford one, one will be provided to you before any questioning. Do you understand these rights as I have read them to you?"
He looked shocked. "Are you fucking serious, mon? Are you actually going to try to pull this..."
That was as far as I let him get, before I interrupted "SIR! Do you understand these rights as I have read them to you?"
"Fuck you, mon. Yes, I understand my rights. Happy? Are you actually going to try to pull..."
This time it was Daniels that interrupted him "SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LAWYER UP! You nitwit."
By this time Watson was there, so I looked at him and said "Please put this gentleman in holding, standard procedure." Which meant (though I hoped that Bourgeois didn't know our SOP's) leave him alone, and put the cameras on record, in hopes that he says something stupid when "no one is there".
Once Watson and Bourgeois left, Daniels reached for the camera, with an "I'll take that back now". He wasn't fast enough by an order of magnitude.
I grabbed his hand on its way to the camera, and said "That's evidence of a crime. Come to think of it, about three at least, because in this state you can't record a conversation without either prior release, informing either by making it obvious that you are recording, or by getting recorded permission, or a warrant, plus attempted assault on a law enforcement officer in the performance of their duties. Are you bucking for tampering with evidence too? Mr. Daniels, you may not understand this, but you are in a deep dark pile of shit at this point, and the only way out of it without a lot of heavy-duty lawyering and probably some time and/or fines is to stop all this shit, and come clean with us."
"That's my personal property, which I loaned to officer Flandry, and I will have it back, right now!" demanded Daniels.
"Not on your ass, that's evidence." I replied "Now let's talk about what you were here to 'demand that my LT, and Captain do'." I replied, making sure that the emphasis could be heard on the quotes.
"I'm not saying anything further until that camera is turned off and given back to me." replied Daniels. Flandry was amazingly silent through all of this; I'm guessing Daniels or his boss held Flandry on a fairly tight leash.
Well, Murphy had, had about enough of this by this time. "Jim" (referring to Jim Morganson, Watson's partner) "take this pen camera into evidence, give it the next case number, book it against that clown your partner just put in holding. But before you do, download the data on secure file and make five copi
es. Send one to the federal prosecutor's office in Seattle, Jim Rodriguez, make one each for Capt. Roberts, Detective Fisher, and myself. Put one on the secure server, lock it, and put it under a key that only you know."
After Jim took the pen camera away, Murphy looked at Daniels, and Flandry, and said "There now, please do continue, although I do find it amusing that you were perfectly happy having this conversation when you held the camera, but once we hold it, you suddenly refuse to be on the record."
"About that," said Daniels "you don't really think that you're going to get away with charging a federal officer with using magic on a law enforcement officer, do you?"
"In this state?" I chuckled "Oh Hel yeah! Daniels, this state, especially this side of this state, is just chock full of little green Isis types that flat out DESPISE the FPI. A chance to put a thumb in their eye would make every hedge-witch, pagan, ceremonial magician, kabala practitioner, Amerind medicine man or woman, Wiccan, or other practitioner who's ever dealt with, or knew someone who dealt with these reincarnated Inquisitors; not to mention all of the terminally anemic and intermittently furry, cum in their pants. Add video to that, and any number of magic experts who will testify to the capabilities of that fetish I pulled off your boy? I foresee an open and shut case and some jail time in his future. Oh, and there's a few consultants and the crime lab in Olympia that should be able to track down who made that Fetish. Now, why don't you tell me what you were trying to piss my bosses off about? And why I shouldn't arrest you two for conspiracy?" Oh, this was great; I might just be able to get the FPI out of our woods for a while.
"Officer Fisher." started Daniels, and that was as far as I let him go.
"That's Detective Corporal Fisher to you, Mr. Daniels."
"Fine, Detective Corporal Fisher, using magic on a law enforcement officer during the course of an investigation is a charge we were planning on laying on you, frankly. I don't know how you're doing it, but we're sure that you're using some sort of magic to hide your whereabouts in the Olympic range, and that you are providing aid and comfort to the killers of Sergeant Brown, USMC. We want you out of the woods, and we want the whereabouts of the Lycanthropes that killed Sergeant Brown, and we want it NOW. If you don't comply we will be bringing charges against you and your department. There, is that clear enough for you?"
Keeping The Faith (John Fisher Chronicles Book 2) Page 22