by TR Cameron
She looks right in a suit.
The AR glasses that adorned her face were a new model, one of several different options they had acquired to assist in their multi-agency camouflage. If she seemed to talk occasionally into the microphone that dangled from her earbuds, an observer would put it down to ordinary texting or phone chat.
Which it is, only to someone closer than an observer might expect.
Her voice was clear in Diana’s earpiece. “It’s about time you got here. You’ve cut it a little close, haven’t you?”
Diana angled for a chair at one of the low tables around the edge of the bar space. “You have a lot to learn about subtlety, Cara.”
A soft snort sounded in reply. “Subtlety is overrated. Force, that’s where it’s at.”
Her response was forestalled by the arrival of the skinny bartender with the spiky hair, who seemed disappointed when all she ordered was two coffees. He trudged away with an expression that suggested someone had hurt his favorite pet. “What’s his deal?”
Cara’s tone turned gossipy. “Well, his girlfriend left him, and he’s not sure he wants to stay in Pittsburgh anymore.”
Diana shifted position to watch the door. “You’ve gotten pretty personal with the bartender. How long have you been here, anyway?”
“Please. He told me that in the first five minutes. I think he’s on a quest for moral support rather than tips at the moment.”
“Then it’s good you’re the one at the bar. I don’t do emotional counseling so well.”
“It’s not my strong suit either. I prefer shooting my problems.”
She smothered a laugh. “That’s probably not an appropriate way to deal with romantic entanglements.”
Cara’s voice held the satisfaction that came with having successfully set someone up for a punch line. “It’s worked so far.”
Diana groaned as two things happened at once. The morose server dropped the coffees off, and the revolving door spun. She blinked, and her glasses performed their cyber wizardry to confirm that the tall man who strode into the lobby was detective Tony Ryan. He seemed average in most respects—neither fat nor thin, neither muscled nor weak, with nothing distinguishing about his facial features aside from the bushy hair that crowned his lip. It was a solid patch of ebony and seemed a natural progression from the man’s dark skin. Cara’s voice whispered in her ear. “I bet he grooms that mustache for at least an hour a day.”
She didn’t reply and instead, stood as the man approached. “Detective Ryan, I’m Diana.”
He took the outstretched hand and gave it a shake—neither hard nor soft—and replied, “Tony.” His heavy wool coat went over the back of the chair, and he gestured at the cup in front of him as he sat. She nodded, and he took a sip before he unwound the scarf from around his neck. “Thanks for the invitation—and the coffee.”
“Thanks for coming.”
He bared a set of perfectly white teeth in a grin. “When Tyson Samuels suggests I should do something, I tend to do that thing.”
Diana laughed. “He does have a way with people, doesn’t he? Let me guess, it went something like”—she dropped her voice and injected a dose of rasp into it—“‘Got an opportunity for you. Get your ass to Pittsburgh.’” Her gruff impersonation made him smile wider.
“Yeah, that’s about right.”
They shared another laugh that ended quickly, and his eagerness to get down to business was obvious in his body posture. She was happy to leave small talk behind as well. “So, before we start, I need your word that what we speak about will remain only between the two of us, plus Samuels, if you require an outside opinion. He told me your word is gold.”
Tony nodded. “I work hard to make it so. And you have my promise.”
The bartender returned to refill their cups, and Tony thanked him. His immobile frown seemed impervious to social niceties. The detective’s face showed he’d noticed, and Diana gave him the short version. “Bad breakup. He’s down. If we're lucky, he’ll stay away for a while.” The last was for Cara, who she hoped would distract the boy while they talked.
Diana set her phone on the table and activated the comm jamming app. It would block most signals in the lobby other than the encrypted comms she and her partner wore. “I’m not sure what Tyson told you, but I’ll go through the broad strokes quickly. ARES is an off-the-books op, with oversight that goes all the way to the White House.”
She took a drink to soothe her throat.
Stupid winter.
“We have identified Pittsburgh as a growing hotspot for magical trouble, so we’re establishing an office here. We need someone who has good investigative skills, knows the city, and can also kick ass. Samuels says you fit the bill.”
Tony nodded and seemed to display clear confidence that he met all areas of the description.
“Right now, there's only me and one other on the team.
And a troll. And a dog.
“Once you’re on board, we expect to continue growing aggressively, both in the number of agents and support staff. We have a good location in the downtown, and it’s mostly finished, finally.”
He took her pause as an invitation to ask questions. “Is the new Ultramax part of your group?”
“It is. We'll claim it’s identical to the other one in town and not as big an eyesore, but it does actually belong to us.”
“I read that there are ongoing transfers in from around the country.”
Diana rolled her eyes. “That wasn’t actually intended for public consumption yet. When we think someone is relevant to the work we do, they're brought here so we can keep a closer eye on them. My team doesn’t run it, but we'll act in support when needed. In practice, there will probably be a fair amount of interaction.”
He nodded again. “What kind of ass-kicking do you expect to do?”
She grinned. “If it’s weird, then it’s us,” she responded and smiled at his chuckle. “Seriously, though, if it involves magic, it falls under our mandate to either investigate or deal with.”
“Budget?”
“Not bad and getting better. We’ll run lean for a while, but you won’t have to take a pay cut or anything.”
He took another drink and leaned his long form back in the chair to stick his legs out the side. “Upward potential?”
She shrugged. “That would be more appropriately answered by the next higher layer of authority, but with the level of expansion ARES has planned, talented people will be needed. It’s reasonable to think that if you have the skills, you’d have a good shot at one of those posts. But that’s not a promise, merely an observation.”
He sighed. “I do have a soft spot in my heart for Pittsburgh, and it is way too cold on the lake in Cleveland.”
“So, I take it you’re still interested.”
He nodded.
“Then I have a couple of questions for you. First, what kinds of magic have you come up against so far?”
“When I was here in Pittsburgh, I saw it creep in at the edges of some of my cases. Nothing definitive, only suspicions about what might be going on at the root of certain situations. I’ve never actually had to confront a magic user.”
Diana sipped her coffee and waited.
“In the military police, we had one guy who joined in ROTC and made his way up to active duty, then started using mental powers of some kind to steal stuff. The trouble is, magic doesn’t make you smarter than any other chucklehead, and he screwed up when he tried to mess with the mind of his fence’s girlfriend.” Diana’s eyes widened.
Not a good idea.
“It turns out he hadn’t locked in as much control of the man as he thought and was shot while he tried to seduce her. We investigated, put the pieces together, and apprehended him while he was still in the hospital.”
Diana recalled her own recent public capture attempt. “That seems like a dangerous play.”
He shrugged. “We borrowed some intelligence types and had them dress up as doctors and nurses. He twigged to on
e, but the others had him sedated before he caught on that everyone in the room was a plant.”
“Nice. Your idea?”
Tony nodded stoically. His lips never twitched. He stated a fact, but if he was prideful, he hid it well.
“Okay, next question. Why homicide?”
“I’m always looking for a new challenge, I guess.” He shrugged. “Plus, I have a thing against people who are psycho enough to believe they have the right to take someone else’s existence away from them.”
“So, you’re softhearted?”
He laughed. “My ex-wife would certainly argue against that sentiment. No, I simply think that sort of action should be confined to those who opt in, not the innocents on the periphery. I was a big fan of The Wire, you know? It’s like Omar says. You only mess with those in the game.”
Diana kept her eyes on his and maintained her neutral expression with some effort. “So, you don’t mind when criminals off each other?”
Tony laughed. “Oh, hell no. They still have to go down. It simply doesn’t make me quite as upset as when someone shoots a civilian.”
She let her body relax.
Right answer.
“Okay, last question. Why are you interested in leaving? You seem to have everything where you want it to be.”
His face settled into the most serious expression she’d seen from him. “Sometimes, it feels like things are getting worse instead of better. More crimes and more murders, whether magic-related and not. People seem unsettled at the new reality of the worlds coming together, even though they’ve had plenty of time to wrap their heads around it.”
She nodded.
Tony continued. “If there’s a chance to diminish the flow of trouble at its source rather than downstream, that seems like a worthwhile useful endeavor. Plus, Samuels told me I’d be a moron to refuse.”
“That doesn’t sound like Samuels.”
He nodded a little sheepishly. “Okay, what he said was I’d be ‘a fucking lunatic moron’ to turn down the chance to join your team.”
Diana burst into laughter. “Now that does sound like Samuels.” A line of text appeared on her glasses and momentarily distracted her. “Okay, I thought of one more. Have you done any bounty work?”
“Nope. It’s not part of my job, and I’m a little too busy to hang out my own shingle.”
“But you could certainly handle the investigative side of tracking them down, right?”
He shrugged. “It’s what I do. I take the pieces and put them together until the picture makes sense.”
She inclined her head as she read both his expression and body posture. “And when the picture makes sense, punch the person it reveals in the skull?”
Tony grinned. “At the very least.”
She shot a glance at Cara and smiled at the message that appeared in her lenses.
Looks good.
Diana turned back to him. “Okay, one more thing. Since you were an MP, I know you’re familiar with our weapons and paraphernalia. We’ll still run you through some tests to make sure your skills are sharp.”
He nodded his agreement.
“We’ll mix it up fairly often if recent history is to be believed. Is that a problem for you? I imagine the life of a homicide detective is a little slower paced.”
“I hate to be bored.” His grin widened.
She laughed and shook her head. “One thing I can guarantee, you will not be bored. You’re in—provisionally—if you want it.”
“I can take a leave of absence from work without a problem.” He raised his cup in a toast. “Here’s to living in exciting times.”
Chapter Eight
Under cover of early morning darkness, Diana unlocked the front door of the security agency and swung it open to discover Bryant seated behind the desk. He fiddled casually with his phone, then looked up. “About time you got here, Sheen.” His grin showed legitimate warmth, however, rather than his usual teasing.
Her own smile stretched her face enough that even she noticed it as she stepped into the room. “Missed you, too, BC.”
He smiled at the old joke.
“I thought you were still out of town for a week or two,” she observed casually.
“True. But I felt it was worth the trip to see your first training run in the new space. When I heard you’d requested BAM folks to play the opposing force…well, I had to be here.” His jeans and t-shirt suggested he’d join in.
“And here I thought it was my sparkling personality. Do you want to take a look?”
He nodded and rose to join her as she walked to the otherwise unremarkable door that led to the back. A wave of her watch in front of the sensor popped a hidden wall panel open, and she typed in the code to unlock the door. As she was about to lead the way through, the main entrance behind them swung open, and the rest of her unit entered.
Cara offered a bubbly, “Bryant, good to see you.”
Tony walked forward and extended a hand. “Tony Ryan, newest team member.”
“Bryant Bates, oldest team member.” The group laughed as they wandered into the rear of the building.
When Diana had departed for DC, the base had been practically empty. Now, it was filled with a variety of rooms and goodies. The group stood in a preparation area that stretched to the back of the warehouse. A complicated computer terminal had been mounted on the wall near the entrance. It ran a custom ARES software program that created floor plans and structures based on strategic objectives. The people who installed it had set it up for their first run.
The system gave orders to a pair of bright yellow autonomous forklifts parked in the middle of the preparation area against the wall, neatly centered within the slashed warning lines that marked their home bases. There was a note that cautioned against having humans on the training room floor beyond the safe zone while the forklifts did their work, as they had no particular programming to avoid living beings. Diana had made sure to file that under the very important things to remember section of her mind. The far side of the facility held lockers full of equipment arranged around several benches.
The warehouse was filled with crates that had been stacked and attached with clever plates and grooves to maintain a sense of uniformity. These were a uniform dark-gray and were very sturdy without weighing a ton, which made it possible to arrange them in unique ways. Right now, they formed a solid barrier that cut off the remainder of the space, save for a single-file path that ran back six feet before it turned.
They all moved to the equipping area, and Diana unlatched the mounted cabinets to display sets of army laser training gear. Bryant checked his phone and reversed course toward the door. “The rest of the OPFOR’s here.” He opened it to reveal Gillians and Johnson from the DC team. Diana crossed and exchanged fist bumps and hugs with both of them. Bryant frowned. “Why didn’t I get hugs?”
Diana raised an eyebrow. “Go away for long enough that I miss you, and you might. In your case, maybe a few months. Possibly a year.”
He laughed and touched his chest to acknowledge the point.
She turned back to the newcomers. “I didn’t realize they’d send the A-Team.”
The other woman grinned. The expression transformed her strong face from aggressive to warm. “When the word came in, there were plenty of volunteers.”
Johnson added, “It turns out most of us liked the idea of checking out the new unit. Blackwood wanted to come, but we couldn’t be down both snipers at once.”
Gillians nodded her agreement. “We’ve got HRT in place as backup and the ability to request PDA support if needed. Those folks aren't big fans of ours, though.”
Bryant laughed. “That’s putting it mildly.”
Diana frowned and asked, “Because of the lack of oversight?”
“Right on target,” he affirmed.
Johnson clapped his hands. “Speaking of targets, how about we get to the shooting?”
She gestured for them to follow her back to the lockers. Her team had alrea
dy donned the sensors, which strapped on above the knees and elbows, plus a chest piece and collar that would register strikes to the head. While the others suited up, fast-dressing Cara pulled a carbine from the wall and inspected it. “Pew, pew.”
The room filled with good-natured laughter. Not only did this serve as a good test, but it also helped as a team-building exercise. Diana looked up from fastening her leg sensors. “I hope you guys can handle the high-tech nature of our gear. It’s not quite the same as being pounded by a paintball.”
Gillians laughed. Her voice was low and appealing. “Pain is a good teacher, though.”
Johnson nodded and grinned. “I bet you won’t forget to check for tripwires anytime soon after those claymores.”
Diana scowled. Her first run at the ARES gauntlet still bothered her, mainly because of her mistake, but she would never forget how painful that deluge had been as the pellets exploded over her body. “Maybe there’s a way to make the laser tag system reinforce the need to not do stupid things. Once we have a tech attached, we’ll look into it.”
Meanwhile, Cara had pulled rifle magazines—batteries, actually—and a pistol and matching mags from the cabinet. She slotted each into the appropriate spot on the lightweight vests, belts, and thigh holders.
In companionable silence, everyone geared up and were soon ready to rumble.
Bryant grinned. “See you inside, kiddos. Go Team Red!” His partners echoed the call, and the three of them disappeared into the aisle created by the stacks of crates on either side.
Tony looked doubtfully at them. “Are those things safe?”
Diana laughed. “Very. They’re anchored to each other and the walls. They’ve been well tested, believe me.” During the visit to DC, Rath and Diana had visited the ARES training facility at Emerson’s insistence. The man had even gone so far as to escort them himself in a rare trip outside the bounds of his lab.
The troll did more than simply visit. He ran through the course at three feet, then tried it at full size. The exercise proved an eye-opening experience as she watched the troll leap from crate to crate and climb and tumble. He was less acrobatic in his largest form, but at middle size, he maintained all the grace of his tinier self with more force added to his blows. At the end of the session, Emerson shook his head. “This will never do. You’ll need gear for your biggest form, too.”
