by P. S. Power
“Not unless we have to go in, then we’ll probably use snipers and an insertion team, not you. Ideally, we talk our way through this instead of fighting. If it comes to that, you’ll be the last line of defense, before the civilians can be hurt, not the first line. Understood?” She seemed serious and the others with them all nodded. After a moment, the negotiator did as well, even if he didn’t understand why Liam would be tasked with something like that.
Sanchez sighed though.
“Unless this is a certain type of supernatural. In that case we might have to send him. So stay ready, Liam. What do you need us to do, McClaren?” That seemed to be spoken to the man in the suit, giving him a name.
He looked strained for a few seconds, about three, and then nodded.
“Stay local, for now. Out of the way, in case shooting starts. If this is one of your people, we might need you to try and talk them down. Workplace violence is a fifty percent chance here. If it’s… One of your type of… clients, then I’ll get with you. Have your man here stay ready, like you said. We can’t afford to screw this up.” There were nods then, at everyone and the man called out, to another fellow in the blue van they were behind. “Try calling again. I want an open line.”
The others moved back, so Liam followed their lead, not wanting to be in the way. After all, he lacked the skills needed to make a difference at the moment, even if he was a specialist now. Whatever that was. It wouldn’t be in using his whispered tones to talk people into surrendering. Everyone else there was better suited for that particular role.
They waited then. For a very long time, it felt like. Not far from the van, so he noticed when McClaren moved rapidly to the back of it and picked up a phone handle, a thing in stark black, with a curly cord in the same color attached, and press the thing to his ear.
“That won’t be needed. We normally get to hear the requests, first. Perhaps you could…” There was a bang, a single shot from inside the building. Muffled, since the FBI offices there for the Special Investigation Branch didn’t have any windows at all.
A thing that meant that no one shot back. It was simply too risky to shoot through a wall, Liam could tell. Not without a nice clear window being there to allow them to see what was going on.
The others with him all winced at it, and the negotiator went still.
“Tell me that you didn’t shoot him.” There was no heat in the words. Not until the next one. “Fuck. That wasn’t good. Don’t touch anyone else. Just… Give us the demands. What is it that you want?”
There was no audible speaking for a while. If anything was being spoken over the phone, Liam couldn’t tell what it was. Not from twenty feet away. His hearing was good. Just not at that kind of level. After a while, the man in the gray suit, holding the phone with his face and shoulder, pinching them together, wrote quickly. Then he looked up at first a man in all blue, who was wearing bullet resistant armor and then over at Brenner. She was waved over.
She nodded, speaking softly.
“This can’t be good then. How much do you want to bet that it’s a demand for millions of dollars, or all our coworkers are going to be killed?” The words got Sanchez to make a hard face.
Then he sighed. “I won’t take that bet at all. Not if they need your input. This is…” He stopped then, since the woman had walked past, having work to do.
After a moment she nodded, then came back toward them all.
“Fuck. Just… Fuck. AIC Ripley is dead. That’s the report. Whoever is in there says that the rest of them will die, one per hour, unless Narran, the vampire Queen, comes here to fight the people inside, herself.”
Liam nodded at the words. Not because they made sense, though. Just because he was pretty certain that wouldn’t be happening.
Chapter three
It felt obvious to Liam, that what was being asked wasn’t really. It was a distraction being used for something else. The trouble there, he knew, was that he was too young to be taken seriously if he simply told everyone else that basic fact. Still, not trying would be leaving those around him in trouble. At risk.
So he tried, whispering gently as everyone else stood there in annoyed silence.
“These people know that the Queen of the vampires will not be attending them here. It’s a trick to buy them time or to force us to do something that we wouldn’t want to.” What that might be, exactly, Liam couldn’t tell.
Everyone looked at him then, as if he were stupid. It was McClaren that simply nodded at him though, seeming harder than he had before in some ineffable fashion.
“Agreed. What the plan is… Well, we need to get eyes inside. Ears as well. We don’t even know if this is one person or a group in there. Any suggestions?”
Liam simply tilted his head and tried to listen, in case he could hear anything. The answer was clear to him, since nothing at all came then. He heard people outside, milling around, talking to one another and off in the distance he could see news reporters with vans and cameras. There was a helicopter above them, which was a thing that he only knew of from movies. He’d seen some few of those, in the last months, which was useful, since a few had covered situations like the one that they were in at the moment.
They were fiction. Things that held false stories that had never taken place. At the same time they’d all described things that were also real. Like fighting and that people could fly, using planes and a few other methods. Such as the bladed machine above him and possibly space craft. Shuttles and other kinds of ships. At least aliens had those, he thought.
His ears weren’t keen enough for that kind of thing, of course. Which he’d known, even if he’d tried anyway. After all, he might be wrong on that score, having lived a fairly sheltered life prior to that time.
From books he had some other knowledge, however.
Vampires were better at hearing than he was or than the more human people there would be. For that matter, even unshifted werewolves had superior talents that way. Several other groups might also be able to do things that would be helpful as far as getting information from the building.
Looking at Brenner, he whispered, trying to not give anything away for once, rather than being less than noisy due to it being his only real option.
“Mitchel?” He didn't add anything else to the idea. After all, regular humans weren’t supposed to know that the other groups and people existed in any way. Not as a real and tangible thing.
Why that was, Liam hadn’t been able to find out at all. The concepts clearly showed up, in fiction. Some of it, a small portion, was even accurate enough to be used as a general guide to different groups. People read and watched that kind of thing without taking any harm at all.
For some reason the governments of the world wanted that sort of thing to remain hidden. Thinking, it seemed, that the spirit and ability to adapt of the average man or woman wouldn’t be up to the job of handling something that different.
That could be the case, for all Liam knew. After all, he’d rarely met average or ordinary people. Brenner and Sanchez worked and even lived in a world that was steeped in supernatural things. The other FBI people did that as well. At least for the special unit. They all seemed to be sane and able to feed themselves without their minds breaking too easily.
Then, the idea that they might be other than average was very possible. It was clear to him that Brenner often seemed to know things that she didn't have access to. Without seeming to understand that she was doing it, on a conscious level. Agent Sanchez was different, though remained more or less calm when things got stressful and seemed to understand what was needed in different, often novel, situations.
That the others might be like that, in their own ways was likely.
Instead of asking about his clever Mitchel related plan, Brenner nodded, picking up the basic idea. She pulled her cell phone and dialed far more quickly than Liam could have managed the same thing. That was due to having the man in her contact information as well as simply having a lot of practice w
ith the device. Small deft fingers, too.
As the others moved back to the problem at hand, Tiffany spoke, her voice dark and brooding. Almost as if she didn’t want to be making the call in the first place.
“Mitchel? We have a problem. The unit, about a third of us, have been taken hostage by someone. They’re currently demanding that Narran meet them here at our headquarters for a fight. We need eyes and ears in the room. Are you willing to help with that?” She stopped and then shook her head. “No. We called you first. We aren’t giving over anyone like that. Even if it means we lose our own people. That isn’t the plan.” She looked at Liam then, her lips almost white with tension.
After a few moments, she nodded.
“I can do that. You’ll come? We could use the help.”
The phone hung up then, it seemed. At least Brenner dialed again, after a moment, this time having to search her phone for a bit, first.
“Nic? Tiffany Brenner. We have a hostage situation. My group, some of them have been taken. We don’t know who’s holding them. They have a strange demand…” She waited then, making a few small and encouraging sounds. Finally, she took a very deep breath and explained the whole thing.
When she was done, there was a growl from the device in her hands, after a moment she nodded and spoke, her voice bland.
“Nope. We’ll go in and kill them all, first. We just figured that you and yours should know what’s being said. This isn’t being broadcast or anything… Then, it wouldn’t be, since no department in the world does that during a hostage situation. So, you know, we’re keeping you all in the loop, since this seems to be aimed at you, if only as a way to distract us. Mitchel Warner is coming in for intelligence gathering.” There was a pause then and a few encouraging sounds to go along with it. “Okay. That sounds like a plan then. We’ll talk later?”
After a bit of time, she pulled the device from the side of her face and tapped it.
“There. I’ve done my part for the moment. At least with the vampire community. Nicodemus is going to tell Narran about this. Also, at least his plan, is to keep her far away from here. Not that she wouldn’t have to take a challenge to fight, in ordinary circumstances. There’s just too great a chance this is a set up. Like you said, Liam.”
There was a depth of meaning to her words, which for once Liam actually felt like he mainly understood. Interestingly, the man who was trying to keep the hostage takers on the phone had been listening and he seemed more or less not to understand it at all.
Sighing, the man, McClaren, shook his head, the phone to the side of his head again.
“We’re having trouble finding the person you’re talking about… Is that in the phone book? Vampire Queen isn’t listed for some reason. If you have a number we can try to call for you…” The words were incredibly genuine sounding, even if the man was lying. Through his teeth, as the saying went.
Liam had seen that one online a few times. That all lies and even truths were spoken the same way was apparent to him. It seemed important to people that there be ways to differentiate such things though. Oddly enough, most of them were lies themselves. For instance, saying that a man’s nose was growing when he lied wasn’t to be taken literally and was, clearly, untrue in every single case. That a woman’s pants were on fire was, similarly, also a confabulation and exaggeration to the point of distorting reality.
More, lying was supposed to be bad and wrong. Yet almost everyone lied during the course of an average day. From what Liam had heard and read about it was nearly ten percent of all communication between other people. He didn't lie nearly that often, himself. Agent Brenner did though. That had been a thing he’d missed at first, since she seemed kind enough about things.
For instance, she’d claimed that the men that had stolen Mary, his mother, weren’t bad men in particular. That they had simply been doing their job. While there was some truth to that, it also seemed that they weren’t doing their job well or fairly and that many thought of them as being bad. It wasn’t simply him doing it because he was too young and naive to know better.
Apparently, the phone went dead then, instead of a phone number for Narran, the Queen of the Vampires, being provided at all. At least McClaren looked at the handpiece and glared a bit, then sighed.
“This could be going better. They keep cutting conversation. The voice distortion unit suggests that they came prepared as well. They seem to be doing everything they can to keep us off guard and unbalanced, which means they understand the basic tricks I’m trying to use. I really wish we could get eyes in there.”
One of the other men nodded. He had short hair and a police uniform. In short, he was dressed like one of the bad men. In armor and holding a long firearm loosely, as if he were about to use it. There were no particularly aggressive looks over at Liam at least, though McClaren was getting annoyed glances from time to time. The fellow had light colored skin and very short hair. The kind that turned into bristles at the top. His face and jaw were square and he seemed to be stony aspected. That or simply unable to show anything close to a positive emotion.
Liam was willing to suggest that his current facial expressions might have something to do with the stress of the situation. Even if he seemed to be in the mold of people that he, personally had reason to dislike, this particular man wasn’t shouting about death and cursing as of yet.
Instead he made a hard seeming face and nodded.
“We could use the drone platform for that? Whoever is doing this managed to pick the right space. Except that going after the Feebs is insane. At least I wouldn’t want to piss on the government like this. Especially if my only goal was to make up dumb assed stories about vampires.” There was a head shake then. It seemed heartfelt, if nothing else. “The space inside is almost brilliant for this, though. Only one way in or out of the room. No windows, solid walls with other rooms on either side of them. We’ll have to try and blow one of those to get in, most likely.”
That sounded dangerous as well as clever enough to Liam. He wouldn’t have thought about doing things that way. The problem would be in doing that without killing the individuals on the other side of the thing. Which wasn’t his personal problem at the moment. No one seemed to be expecting anything of him at all, even if he had been named as a specialist.
McClaren started to say something, when a uniformed officer waved to him from behind some yellow tape that had been put up. A car had simply driven up to it and parked, blocking the road. The driver was out of it, near the police officer, showing that it was Mitchel Warner.
Liam didn’t wave to the man. Everyone else did though. Brenner, Sanchez, Douglas and Carlisle, as well as Kim Simpson signaled at nearly the same time, showing they all recognized him. The thin white man wasn’t allowed to simply join them, however. Not until McClaren looked at the scene and did his own waving, then called out.
“Let him through.” The words didn’t sound all that certain, Liam didn't think.
Then, jogging, the man moved toward them. There was a certainty in his footsteps, and nods for everyone when he got to them. Including Liam.
His voice was a bit gentle sounding, even if the man was normally polite and friendly seeming. This was something more than that. What it indicated, Liam wasn’t certain. Probably concentration, instead of shyness. Mitch Warner wasn’t that at all.
“I need a moment here. Your office space?” That was spoken to Tiffany directly, so had her red head bobbing a bit in response as she leaned in. Nothing was spoken about though.
Then, over the course of several minutes, Mitchel simply stood there, his head down, as nothing much happened at all. The phone wasn’t even picked back up, even though an officer who hadn’t been named was trying to call the people inside constantly.
When Mitchel opened his eyes, he seemed upset. Scared, rather than angry. He whispered, meaning the words to be only for the small collection of people there.
“Um… I’m not getting anything here. I mean, I can see the inside o
f the office. They’re… The hostages are all dead. In your boss’s office space. There’s no one else in there. From the feel of it the bodies are cold already.” Saying the words left the man uneasy, it seemed. He went on anyway, trying to communicate with Tiffany and Sanchez directly, from the look of things. “There’s a bomb on the door. I don’t think it’s big enough to take out the whole building. I don’t really know about that kind of thing, though.”
Buzz Cut, the well-armed man, let his eyes narrow at the words.
“Who the fuck is this? Also, how reliable is his information. Do we have eyes inside?” There was a searching look then, as if the one man were trying to find the earpiece or communications device of the other.
Sanchez nodded.
“Reliable. We need to go in… That… Hopefully he’s wrong.” There was sadness in the words, even if the magical information hadn’t been confirmed yet.
Liam understood, he thought. Mitchel was an air elemental. That meant he could do certain things that most people couldn’t. Like see things at a distance, after some strange fashion. That talent was literal magic, however, which Sanchez had to believe in for his job, having seen it work many times in his life. The other man wasn’t in the circle of informed people, so was working at a disadvantage that way. Why he wasn’t simply being told that he was incorrect and allowed to change his world view to match reality was hard to understand. There was some kind of reason for it, since the FBI agents there had the job of hiding and managing that kind of thing.
So Liam kept his own words to himself, not whispering the truth just then. Of interest, even if the man with the bristle brush hair couldn’t possibly understand why Mitchel was saying what he did, he touched a microphone that was hanging off his chest on the upper left side and spoke, his head leaning down toward the thing.
“Prepare for level three insertion. Level three. Explosives in play. On the door to the targeted space, by observation. Proceed with caution. I want bomb disposal to stand by.”
