by P. S. Power
That wasn’t down to them being perfect people at all. They simply would have made sure that anyone they tried to kill was actually gone, since such attacks sort of pushed other people into coming back at them. Since Liam couldn’t functionally be killed, even by a hand grenade, that wouldn’t have been a great plan on their part.
Nodding, he went on.
“Nothing in this could have killed me. That means it was either a small group that doesn’t like me and also knows nothing about me, or it was aimed at Brenner. That or someone else that might have been here. Or…” He furrowed his brow then, and nodded. “Um, what if someone wanted all of you out of the office for a while? Not checking your phones or…”
Sanchez yelp then and stood up, as if motivated to it by an insect sting. His phone was pulled out and a number dialed quickly, with two taps. Then the device was held to his ear. After a moment, he spoke.
“Ridley, if you get this, call me back asap. We’re heading to the office. Something might be going on. Check in.” That person, AIC Ridley, was their boss. Probably the leader of all the agents in the room. Several of the others pulled their phones then, calling various people.
Finally, Carlisle cursed.
“Fucking hell. I’ll go to the office and check there, we need to get eyes on people. There should be six bodies left there and no one is picking up at all. We need to check on some things, which means moving as a group. I don’t want anyone left alone right now. Arm up, too.” Then he left, jogging out to his car.
Which didn’t work very well, given that there was a soft buzzing sound, which got louder over the course of about a second and then another explosion.
It was Douglas that looked up, his face going scared.
“That’s an RPG. It didn’t hit close but it shouldn’t have hit anything at all, since those are illegal as hell. I think it came from that way.” He pointed then, in a direction that would be across the street, in the other woods. The ones that Liam hadn’t checked, because they weren’t on the property. No one lived in that direction, making it a good hiding place. Possibly an incredible one, if a person had the skills and was prepared.
After about thirty seconds, there was another burst of sound, then light that came through the window, followed by a louder noise. It wasn’t the same as what had happened earlier in the day. That one had been more impactful, by several times. At the moment the things seemed to be hitting off to the side, rather than any of the cars or the house itself.
Liam tried to point, standing up, just like everyone else was doing.
“They’re hitting over to the right, instead of targeting us directly. That could be poor aim, except that both have hit almost the same spot. So, why would anyone try to destroy the wood shed?” That was the only thing in that direction, though from the sound it hadn’t been struck yet.
It was the grenade theory woman who spoke then.
“To keep us here? Unharmed for now. That… It would make more sense to hit the house directly. Even if we made it out, we’d probably all be too damaged to do anything about the attack. Well, except for Liam.” She nodded at him, as if that should tell him what to do.
Which, in a way, it really did.
“I’ll go and see if I can find this person. The rest of you should get outside and hide. Away from the obvious targets.” He wasn’t a military strategist, but that was just common sense. If you bunched up, the bombs, even smaller ones would be able to hit more people at one time. Plus it had been in the information he’d just read about grenades, so he knew it was probably close to correct for the situation they were in at the moment.
Brenner, looking very fearful and tense, pointed toward the back of the house.
“Use the back door. There might be someone watching there as well, so be careful. The rest of us will go out the windows on three. I’ll count that down. Everyone get ready.”
It took a while, since most of the people needed to find a good place to exit from. Liam was allowed the simple use of the white door though, which was nice. Also a good idea, as it turned out, since as he moved out of the place, when Brenner called out three, as soon as he stepped three feet past the door, he was shot. There was a small flash to his right, about at the edge of the woods, near the ground.
Not waiting, he simply sprinted in that direction, only to find that, when he got there, it was a strange type of firearm on a small platform, with no one even running away from it. From the look, it was set to fire at the back door. Probably when there was movement in that direction. His right shoulder hurt a bit from the impact, though when he looked, after the pain faded, there was a hole in the front and the back. Meaning that it wouldn’t need to be treated.
Liam could feel things shifting and closing up already. It would take a while for the scars to totally fade, but they’d be fully formed in about a day. Until then, he wasn’t bleeding and there was no real bone inside of him to shatter or break. He didn’t have separate organs and bones, really. They were all one piece, the center just being stiffer than the rest.
Quickly, he used his new shoe to topple the platform over, then pulled it round, so that it was aimed well away from the house, in case anyone else came out.
None of which kept him from running, full speed, as soon as possible, around the house to the other side, trying to find the shooter across the road. This time it was another platform, with two long tubes on the top. It seemed to have a timer, instead of a motion sensor. It was hard to tell, since it was dark out. Still, the tubes were visible, one for each rocket shot taken. This time, carefully, he walked across the street carrying the device. Calling out, in a whisper.
There was more shooting then, so he ducked and kept coming, figuring that it was probably Agent Carlisle. He’d been outside for the two attacks and heard another shot from the back of the place. Except that when Liam moved down the drive, carrying the whole rig from across the road, he saw that the only one with a weapon pointing at him was Agent Douglas. The others were glaring at their fellow agent, not him, which sort of told the story.
The man grimaced, then spoke, fairly loudly.
“Sorry there Liam. Fuck, did I hit you?” There was pointing then, since there was a hole in his new shirt. The tan thing wasn’t damp with blood though, Liam not having that sort of thing.
He didn't bother talking until he was much closer to the people. It wasn’t going to be useful, so he didn't bother trying.
“No. This is from the trap in the back. It was aimed at the door. I took this one from across the street. Let me go get the other one?” He didn't go into how he hadn’t wanted to try and carry the thing with him, in case he had to fight. Even if it had a gun on it, a long rifle, the thing in the back was mounted in a way that might well make it very difficult to use.
Plus, he didn't know how it was done. It generally involved pointing and pulling a trigger. That was the end of his firearms use information. That kind of thing was less important for him than the others, since he could walk through bullets and they couldn’t. That meant he could close if he needed to fight where others might not be able to very well. Liam probably wouldn’t need a weapon for that, most of the time.
The other woman walked over and gestured for him to put the rocket launchers down. She whistled a bit after getting a good look at it.
“These were preset and aimed, and on a timer. That’s sophisticated on a level that I’ve rarely heard of. Whoever did this wasn’t messing up. That means this whole thing is about something other than murdering a few FBI agents. We wouldn’t have survived if two of these had hit the house with us in it.”
There were nods then, from the others, though it wasn’t necessarily true.
“Unless those agents just aren’t here?” No one seemed to hear him. That or they were ignoring him. After all, it was very possible that whoever had done the whole thing had other plans in mind for the evening. So far, the whole operation against them had seemed small enough. Personal, and targeted in one place.
; The new lady, who had brown hair and lighter colored eyes, pointed.
“We need to check on our people in town. I’ll drive out first, to make certain it’s safe. If it is, the rest of you need to follow me.” She sounded brave, as she pulled some keys from her hip pocket. Then she waved to him. “Liam, you’re with me. My car. Let’s go.”
It was strange, the woman not knowing him at all, that she’d pick for him to be her partner for the evening. Everyone else seemed to think it was fine though, so he moved toward the door, going first, in case there was more shooting. That hadn’t been fun, though other than some hissing, he hadn’t made any real noise over it.
Outside, they ran, almost diving into the woman’s car. She smiled at him, once they were inside. It was a strained thing, that spoke of being tense on a very deep level. A thing that, once he thought about it in the context of being under attack, made sense. If they were hit by a grenade or rocket launcher, the woman might well die. He wouldn’t, of course. At least if all the rumors he’d been told were true.
The bullet hole that wasn’t in his shoulder any longer told of a tale that fit that idea as well. Things wouldn’t go that way for any of the human beings with him, so, if anyone had to be shot or blown up, it made sense for him to be that person. Even if it hurt.
Buckling in as the woman moved the small white car out onto the street, Liam waited for another bang or explosion. This time nothing happened.
Not for a while. Then the woman spoke, her voice sounding a bit harsh and hard.
“I’m Kim Simpson. Agent Simpson.”
Liam tried not to make a face then.
“I met a man named that, Simpson. He stole my mother.” He tried not to be mean then, and corrected himself. Brenner always got angry with him when he stated things that way, so this agent might feel that way as well. “Arrested her, for the government. He wasn’t very nice. He said he wanted to kill me. Several times.”
The woman made a face then. He’d been practicing but it was still hard to tell what the expression was supposed to be letting him know. He could get the major things all the time now. Happiness, sadness and anger were even easy. Joy was just happiness turned up by several degrees, making that one not too hard to understand. Other things, such as questioning, or mild annoyance were a bit harder to understand. Normally he could do those too, of course. It was the little expressions that came first that were really hard though. The minor flickering of what people really felt. The micro-expressions that indicated what they were really feeling, even if they didn't know about it, consciously.
The agent took a deep breath then.
“I heard about that. My ex. Um, ex-husband. We were married for five years. It didn’t really take, rather than one of us cheating on the other or him being an asshole all the time. He really isn’t like that, most days.” The woman just drove for a bit, then shook her head. “Really, he’s not that great. We were in love once, but he changed, over the years. The job, the life, a lot of things got in the way. I guess what I’m really saying is that I shouldn’t be held responsible for him having been mean to you. Not that I can’t see it happening. I still have his name after all. It’s better than Padjulecki.”
She seemed to be a bit disgruntled by the idea, so Liam whispered back at her, trying to make friends, since she didn't seem to be inclined to hate him instantly or anything like that.
“He isn’t you. Even if you were still married to him, his actions and yours would be separate. I can also see that he might not have been feeling comfortable around me, at that time. I’m very scary, after all. Just ask anyone.” That part wasn’t true, he knew.
His hair was even cut in a way that Brenner had announced as being adorable, instead of intimidating or sexy. That, his hair being trimmed, had been at Oaks suggestion.
Mainly due to the fact that Liam had been about six months old at the time and too many adult women had been hitting on him. Looking for adult relations, for some reason. Part of that was simply due to the fact that his face had been made nice enough looking and he seemed very lean on the outside. Once he was no longer yellow, that kind of thing had taken place about once or twice a week.
Getting his hair cut short hadn’t slowed that kind of thing down, either.
Kim went slightly wide eyed and then nodded at him, looking straight ahead, conveying the idea with a subtle head tilt in his direction. The whole thing was interesting to watch. Fascinating even. Many people and other types of beings had done subtle things around him before. This was the first time that he saw something entirely new and actually understood what it meant, though.
She was reacting to his attempt at humor, with one of her own.
“Well, that is the word on the street. Especially after that fight you were in. The vampires have all been putting it around that it was actually you who took down the werewolves that died. At first, I figured they were scapegoating you, until I had a chance to chat with Nicodemus Varlet for a while. It turned out to be rather different than that. They, rather desperately, don’t want you to be upset with them, for stealing your thunder. Apparently, you were impressive that night.” She smiled then, softly, turning off to the right-hand side, into the parking lot of the building that the FBI had their people in for work. A lot of other offices, as well. It was a Federal building, so they were all of that sort of office. The sign said it was the Kinsey Federal Building, in fact. So they didn't have a store inside the place or a coffee shop. Just a little cart that had some things that people might want or need. At least that was what Agent Brenner had mentioned to him.
The woman nodded as she looked at the flashing lights there. They made the side of the brick building turn colors, in an interesting fashion.
“Well, holy fuck. This can’t be good. Let me… See if I can find anyone that will fill us in on this.”
She drove then, stopping when a regular police man, in a blue uniform, waved for them to stop.
“This is an ongoing crime scene. Leave.” The man was stern sounding, his gray and tan mustache moving as he spoke. He was also a bit heavy set and had creases on his earlobes.
That indicated the fellow was dying of heart disease, even if he didn’t know it yet. Liam had come across that fact in his research. It was needed for diagnosing things rapidly. Even if some of the other groups didn't have things like heart disease at all. Some of them did and all of the information he was able to find was either about humans or animals.
Agent Simpson pulled her badge out then and nodded at the man.
“Agent Kim Simpson, FBI. This is Liam Brenner. A specialist that works with us. What’s the situation here?”
The man looked annoyed, but spoke anyway.
“Hostages taken. In the FBI office here. If you want more than that, go and talk to the negotiator we have in. Over there. Move the car first. Blocking the exit won’t fly right now.”
That was done carefully, and a bit slowly, since there were three more vehicles right behind them that had to move first. All of them being people that were with them.
When Simpson the agent got out, she waved for the others to follow her, toward the back of the van the police officer had waved at. Liam simply followed along, walking as if he belonged there, which he obviously didn’t. No one was fooled at all, even if Kim had named him a specialist. What that was supposed to be in, he wasn’t certain. Though if they needed emergency footwear made, he might be able to help them out.
Brenner moved in next to him, touching his shoulder with hers, while not speaking at all. Simpson did that, her voice low as they moved.
“Hostage situation. They have a negotiator in. I don’t have any specifics.” She pointed though, in their direction of travel, which everyone seemed to understand easily enough.
When they got there, a man who was in a suit, dressed like a civilian, looked at them, He seemed angry at first, then schooled his face and didn’t shake or seem afraid at all. Indicating that he wasn’t responding to Liam. Or if he was, that was being burie
d at the moment, due to his job. His clothing was nice, being well made. Tailored and designed to fit the man’s lean body. He had some gray going on, his bare face not seeming all that wrinkled as a sign of age. Enough to show character. His chin was weak, making him seem a bit nerdy. That meant a person who was awkward or intellectual, though it was impossible to know such things from visual examination alone.
“Can I help you folks?” He sounded cold, and glared at all of them, glancing at Liam then locking on Brenner. “Crap. Tiffany… They called you in on this? Is this some kind of spooky shit, then?” The man seemed to be short handing things, for some reason.
Brenner shook her head.
“No, we just couldn’t get with anyone at the office. We were attacked. At my house. Two separate events inside a few hours. A grenade, some shooting, then motion sensors and timed booby traps. One set up with two RPGs attached, so that isn’t a small thing. As if someone didn't want us to show up here.” She waved at Liam then. “He soaked a bullet.”
The man looked at the wound on the light tunic style top and nodded.
“We haven’t been able to open contact yet. We got a call in, early. They claim to have seven hostages and will be killing one per hour, until their demands are met. Then they didn’t give any and hung up, the line being cut. That’s never a good sign. It’s in your offices. Do you have any idea how many people might be in there?”
Liam nodded.
“It should be six, at last count.” That was what had been said and no one, not even Carlisle, tried to refute that. The trouble was that the words were whispered, making them seem weak or as if he might be in shock. The man in the suit reached out and patted him on the shoulder.
“Do you have friends in there? Family?”
He shook his head, trying not to seem shy. It was a danger of being him. Not one he loved, either.
“No. I can go and see what’s going on?” That had every single person that heard him shaking their heads, with Brenner leaning in to touch him on the shoulder. The injured one, which she noticed herself doing. The move continued anyway.
