Agents Of Mayhem: An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure (Federal Agents of Magic Book 2)

by TR Cameron

  Sarah and Marcus were more silent than one would have expected, given the show downstairs.

  But that’s what it is—a show to make sure their crews stay loyal. In reality, they are only half as antagonistic and twice as smart as they let on. I would admire them if such cunning didn’t pose a potential threat to my position.

  He turned and raised his right hand toward them, then let it drop as he spoke. “I felt it was important to give you a glimpse of the larger picture. There have been setbacks to the branches of the Remembrance in other cities. This offers both challenge and opportunity. Challenge, because we are weaker due to their failures. Opportunity, because success will grant us and those above us the chance to rise in power and stature.”

  Sarah was the first to respond. “Just say what you need, and we’ll make it happen.”

  Marcus nodded his agreement.

  Vincente paced the boundary of his medium-sized office—ten steps in one direction, turn, then ten steps back. His words emerged slowly as products of deep thought. “Some time ago, we identified a new enemy, an organization that has risen in power to the point where we now must contend with it. It is called ARES. It was the undoing of certain plans in Washington, DC, and is the driving force behind the second prison that has been established here. We can only assume that there will be a greater presence of organized opposition to our efforts because of it.”

  He unconsciously flexed his right hand in a fist with each step. It was the only outward sign of his anger. “We have acted against them in subtle ways—intercepted shipments, thrown up distractions, and even undertaken a personal attack on an agent. But we will need to do more.”

  Marcus barked a laugh and scratched the short brown beard that matched his hair. “No one’s been able to defeat the combined strength of my weapons and Sarah’s magic.”

  He nodded but frowned as he addressed his subordinate. “It doesn’t do to be overconfident. Overconfidence leads to assumptions, and assumptions lead to defeat. We must redouble our efforts on all matters, including discovering if anyone knows details about this organization.”

  The other man laughed. “I’m not real friendly with any politicians. I bet, though, that with a little money, we could make some quality friends.” He rubbed his fingers together to illustrate his point.

  That drew a smile from Vincente. “That’s a good idea, but one already worked on by others. For our part, buy more eyes, ensure we know what’s going on in our streets, and remain alert for these newcomers.”

  He paced in silence until Sarah finally built up the courage to ask, “Is there anything else?”

  With a sigh, he stopped and turned to them again. “Yes. I didn’t fully express how important it is that we succeed from here on out. It was not said in so many words, but it was nonetheless made clear that lives will be forfeit as a result of any failure, no matter how small.” He closed his eyes as he recalled the less than pleasant conversation with his superior, one of the most aggressive figures in the Remembrance. It was the only sign he would show of the unpleasant feelings that rose as a result.

  He opened them again to see both of his lieutenants pale. They were likely imagining the methods that would be used for their punishment.

  Certainly not a clean or fast death.

  “As such, I will join the raid. You both will run all plans by me for approval. Get to work setting the stage. We need to move as soon as we can be assured of success.”

  He turned to the windows again. “Go.” He knew the dismissal wouldn’t be questioned. He contemplated the vast stores one floor below him. The money he could make from those goods would equate to a small fortune. But those riches wouldn’t buy him even a second’s mercy if he failed his superiors.

  Chapter Ten

  Diana pulled the nondescript black SUV into the parking lot outside an equally unremarkable office building. Cara rode shotgun, and Tony sat in the back. Both passengers gazed around appreciatively as they drove through the city on the way. The marshal discovered new parts of it for the first time, while Tony renewed his acquaintance. They entered through the front doors into a sparse lobby that contained only a mammoth desk with a bored security guard behind it. “Can I help you?”

  “We’re here to see Anderson Stevens.” There was no person by that name at the facility and the statement was simply a code to inform him that they weren’t random visitors. He straightened with a nod and reached for something hidden by the counter in front of him. A panel on the top of the desk slid aside to reveal a glass surface.

  “Palm prints, please.”

  They complied one at a time. Diana had set the visit up the day before, so there had been ample opportunity to draw their biometric records. Hers, of course, was already on file from her previous trip.

  I wonder how Sasquatch is doing. Hopefully badly.

  The guard gestured them toward a door on his right, and it unlocked to admit them into a small anteroom. Once inside, the door closed behind them and another opened ahead. A new, no-nonsense alto voice said, “One at a time, please.”

  She recognized the cylindrical transparent wall before her and stepped forward. The oval rotated to seal her inside, and she extended her arms without being asked to do so. In addition to another biometric palm scan and the buzz of detection devices, a sharp pain stabbed into her index finger as the system sampled her blood. The barrier ahead rotated open, and she walked through.

  Dang. She sucked on the injured digit. I wonder if they replace the needle between uses.

  She waited in another featureless room while her team cleared security. Tony came last and rubbed his fingertips together. “I hope they change that needle.”

  Diana laughed and shook her head. “I’m sure they do. Well, reasonably sure.”

  Cara rolled her eyes in silence. The door opposite opened, and they passed through it to be greeted by Warden Murphy’s thin, hard, and smiling face. She wore a sharp blue suit, a white shirt, and low heels.

  She extended a hand to Cara and Tony in turn. “Evelyn.” Once greetings were exchanged, she turned to Diana. “Full tour, right?”

  “Plus a chat.”

  Murphy nodded and gestured them forward. Another featureless door opened, and they emerged into a large oval area. A guard post made from the same transparent material as the security quarantine was positioned in the middle of the space. Four officers in black uniforms were stationed within, one facing each quadrant. They sat on tall stools with monitors to the left and right but a clear view out over the space ahead. Elevators broke the smooth curve of the walls in four places, each with oversized doors that could accommodate many passengers.

  Above them, a pair of gun turrets whirred and tracked their steps. Tony gestured at the weapons. “That’s some serious security. Should we be concerned?”

  The warden chuckled. “Well, they’re only stun cannons on this level, so no need to be too worried. Plus, your ARES credentials will cause them to disregard you as a threat, so long as you’re not doing something obviously destructive.”

  Tony laughed. “Is there anything our watches can’t do?”

  Cara sounded distracted as she gazed at the barrels above. “They could use a fitness tracker. Even cheap smartwatches have fitness trackers.”

  Diana shook her head. “I’ll put that in as a feature request. I’m sure they’ll get right on it, given its obvious importance.”

  The warden laughed, raised her wrist with a smile, and spoke into her own smartwatch. “Open two.”

  The doors to an elevator with the big number two painted on them slid free, and the party stepped inside the mostly featureless plastic box. Murphy gestured upward. “The Cube has four floors above ground—mainly offices, storage, and such. There’s nothing vital, except for our entrance point on the main floor. And, of course, there’s a backup exit if that should be compromised. Underground, we have five levels, each of them at least two stories high.”

  Diana gestured at the thick plastic shackles set at elbo
w height all around the elevator. “Prisoner restraints?”

  The warden nodded. “The elevators have anti-magic emitters, as does most of the facility. However, we find it’s handy to make sure prisoners can’t cause more mundane kinds of trouble on the way down, especially the larger ones.” She stared at Diana.

  “Is the Kilomea your largest?”

  “Yes. Not our most troublesome, though. The out-of-towners have begun to arrive, and some of those convicts are real challenges.”

  Cara looked from one woman to the other. “Wait. You’re saying the Kilomea isn’t a real challenge?”

  Diana laughed. “Well, talking to him is certainly an epic task, but beyond that, not so much.” She tried not to picture the Diana-shaped dent in her car.

  Her teammate’s eyes widened, but she didn’t reply.

  The elevator halted and the door slid aside. Murphy led them into an oval that matched the one above. “This is the highest underground floor. We call it level one. The above-ground levels are A through D.” She gestured as she spoke. “It’s separated into two halves. That way is the infirmary and it's very specialized holding cells. On this side, we have the interrogation rooms.”

  Tony looked interested, and the warden led the way to the closest chamber and used the panel beside it to pop the locks. Tony and Cara soon disappeared inside. Sounds of approval came through the open door, and the woman in the corridor shared a grin.

  Cara emerged first. “That chair looks solid.”

  Tony followed her out. “It’s certainly not like any of the interrogation rooms I’ve ever worked in.”

  Diana nodded. “It’s lots of fun because the chair releases electric shocks.”

  The others looked unexpectedly uncomfortable, and Diana felt the need to explain. “What? Sometimes, a prisoner requires some extra persuasion. You try talking to a Kilomea and see how you feel about a little buzz then.”

  Murphy laughed and led them back to the elevators. She raised her watch and made the same request as before, and they entered. The warden pressed the button for level two. Tony asked, “Any staircases?”

  Murphy shook her head. “Nope. They’re too much of a security concern. The only way up or down is these four lifts.”

  He whistled. “It seems unsafe for the workers as well as the prisoners. “What about a power outage? What then?”

  She pinned him with an unflinching look. “There’s a backup power source to the backup. Look—sometimes, you have to choose between safety and doing the job right. Our people are carefully recruited and have knowingly made the decision to accept the risk.”

  “How do you ensure they stay loyal?” Cara asked.

  “They’re under voluntary surveillance. It’s part of the gig.”

  Diana winced. “Now that makes me a little uncomfortable.”

  The warden shrugged. “There are too many examples of people on the inside working with criminals on the outside. Until we can develop unhackable robots with all the skills of humans, it will be a constant dance between privacy and security. We might be have taken it too far. Time will tell. But I comfort myself with the knowledge that at least the oversight isn't kept a secret from them.”

  The opening doors forestalled additional comments. Murphy led them left out of the central elevator area, which was identical to the floor above. They walked a short distance, turned right, then right again. Diana took note of the dual turrets mounted at each corner with one barrel facing in either direction. Others were positioned at regular intervals in long stretches of the corridor.

  The warden caught her interest. “Stun cannons are everywhere. These are either controlled from the booth in the center or can be put into motion-sensing mode after interaction hours. We have heavier artillery if needed, but those require human intervention at every stage. They’re too powerful to be automated.”

  They arrived at an area with a blue floor instead of the ubiquitous institutional beige. Short hallways led toward the center of the facility, providing access to sets of four cells, a pair on each side of the spoke. Heavy doors sealed each one. Murphy knocked on one and it resonated loudly in the combined space. “Prisoner storage. We can hold twenty-four each on levels two, three, and four.” She raised her watch to her mouth and said, “Guard post two, this is Murphy. Is two-three unoccupied?”

  The answer was instant. “Affirmative.”

  “Open it, please.”

  The door swung wide as the locks retracted with a smooth whir and a sharp bang. It was a reasonably sized room—bigger than Diana’s office at ARES DC had been. The impression was immediately utilitarian in the same white as the elevators, the corridors, and almost everything they’d seen so far. A bed stretched along the left side with built-in shelves above it. A toilet and sink were installed on the back wall of the cell. The right held a desk. Soft lights shimmered above. Diana squinted for a closer look. “Blue light?”

  Murphy nodded. “It’s allegedly similar to sunlight and supposed to help keep people calm. I honestly don’t know if it works, but we’ll take any edge we can get.”

  Tony ran a hand along the desk where it met the wall. “Is this seamless?”

  The warden grinned. “It is, and it’s built out of super-heavy-duty plastic. Each surface of the room is the same. The bed is attached as well, and the facilities are of the same material. There’s nothing to break off and use as a tool, and anyone who has powers involving metal manipulation is out of luck, even if they manage to overcome the emitters. Fortunately, we haven’t found any magic users who can do much with plastic yet.”

  Cara peered at the place where the bed met the wall. “It seems like it will make replacing anything that breaks difficult.”

  “Yeah, I’m not sure they thought that one through all the way from start to finish. I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

  She led them out, and the cell banged closed behind them. Diana quickly identified the cameras she knew had to be there. The small discs were almost identical to the ceiling surrounding them. Further along, the hallway opened into a large common area that made up the rear portion of the level. A basketball court stood in one third, some basic exercise gear in the middle, and tables had been set up on the far side.

  The warden did her tour guide impersonation again. “This is where the prisoners are permitted to gather for a few hours each day, more or less, depending on their own particular issues and the degree of risk. Level two is our lightest security, and it increases at each descending level. Anti-magic emitters generally keep them out of trouble. We have books and board games, plus projectors for television and movies. The opposite side is identical to the cellblock we just left.” She led them through another heavily secured door that accessed the lobby via a small hallway that was secured with its own stun turret.

  When she spoke into her watch again, the elevator doors parted. After she pressed a button, Murphy said, “We’ll skip three and four, since they’re the same as two. They merely have more turrets, an increased guard presence, and fewer privileges. Four also houses the guard station for five.”

  Diana was impressed. “It seems you’ve addressed everything." She faced her team. "What do you think?”

  Tony nodded in agreement, but Cara frowned. “Is this the slowest elevator ever, or is it my imagination?”

  The warden grinned. “No, it’s not your imagination. They are deliberately slow. It’s security again.” She pointed at the ceiling. “There are broad beam stun guns mounted above, and also nerve gas for anyone who can’t be subdued the easy way.”

  Cara shook her head. “Some of this stuff seems as dangerous to the guards as it is to the prisoners.”

  The warden shrugged again. It seemed to be her stock response to questions about concerns for those employed there. “It’s set up so that only human intervention can trigger lethal action. That’s why we’re so concerned about the reliability of those who work here. There are many who think a completely automated facility would be the best
way to go, particularly cost-conscious politicians, but the very idea makes me shake in my boots.” The door stopped, and she gestured ahead. “You’ll see why.”

  The bottom level was very different than the others. There was no central guard post, only a pole with turrets attached. Several pointed in each direction, and they weren’t all stunners. The weapons made mechanical sounds as they swiveled on their axes. The warden led them out of the lobby a touch more quickly than on previous levels. “This is where the most problematic prisoners are confined. We can’t rely on anti-magic emitters here, because these either literally cannot survive if cut off from their magic or have become so attuned that they go catatonic when deprived. While catatonia is good for security, it’s decidedly less good for the long-term health of our guests.”

  Cara’s laugh was a mix of disbelief and sarcasm. “Is that something we’re concerned about?”

  Murphy stopped, turned, and stared at Cara with a neutral gaze. Her voice wasn’t accusing but far from warm. “Our mandate is to incarcerate these prisoners as securely as possible while ensuring whatever quality of life we can provide, given those strictures. So, yes, we are concerned with their health.”

  The marshal raised her hands in a gesture of appeasement. “No offense meant. It’s a little overwhelming, I’m afraid.”

  The warden nodded, and the chill in her voice lessened. “I felt the same way. We’re used to it but will hopefully never get too used to it.” She repeated the procedure to unlock and open one of a pair of cells on a short hallway identical to the ones they’d seen. The inside mirrored those above in size and furnishings, but there was only a single unit on each side of the corridor on level five. “We have significantly increased physical defenses here. The walls, floors, and ceilings are extremely thick. It takes up a lot more space. The level itself is extra-high to accommodate it, so it’s not really obvious to the eye.”

  She led them to where the common area would have been on the other floors. Instead, they discovered a holding station for six-foot-tall plastic machines with four articulated arms and heavy black treads to roll on. The tops were the same white as the cells.