Agents Of Chaos: An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure (Federal Agents of Magic Book 4)

by TR Cameron

  She frowned and tried to get a sense of her power level. It was a slippery thing. “Weaker.”

  Another nod. “Logically. Using magic you are unfamiliar with is also more draining.” She produced a transparent plastic vial with a screw top. The liquid inside glowed sapphire. “This is an energy potion, as you are well aware. For most sensible folk, it’s no more dangerous than a healing potion as long as it is rarely used. For the unwise…” She stared at Diana with a raised eyebrow. “It can make one feel stronger than they actually are and lead them to consume more energy than the potion supplies.”

  “Your faith in my discipline is truly heartwarming.”

  “Quite the contrary. I have great faith in your discipline. It is your commitment that worries me. Self-protection seems a secondary concern when it should be your primary focus. You cannot continue to fight if you are dead due to poor decision making.” She paused for a moment to let that sink in. “And it’s not my job to warm your heart. It’s my job to drive some sense into that impenetrable object you keep inside your skull.”

  Diana sighed and took the potion from her teacher’s outstretched hand. “So what you’re saying is that despite the fact that I feel like dirt, I shouldn’t swallow this simply because I want to.”

  The Drow rolled her eyes. “Congratulations, you have understood and taken to heart literally the smallest part of my warning. Well done.”

  She smiled. “You’re so easy to annoy.” When Nylene huffed in reply, she laughed. “Okay, my most amazing mentor and teacher, thank you for this day’s instruction and for the potion. May your worthless student ask one last question?”

  The Dark Elf tilted her chin upward, and Diana didn’t need to be telepathic to know she was thinking, “If you must.”

  “Is there a counter to Rhazdon’s Defense, or are we well and truly fucked?”

  Nylene laughed once at the coarse phrasing but sobered quickly. “A little from column A, and a little from column B.” She leaned forward on her cushion and held a palm up. Above it, the image of a long sword and a pair of matching daggers appeared. “Legends refer to these complementary pieces to Rhazdon’s Defense, known collectively as Rhazdon’s Vengeance.” They rotated gently, and the image was sufficient for Diana to see the quality of the workmanship and to note the multifaceted purple gem that lay in the pommel of each.

  Her teacher flicked her middle finger gently, and the sword grew in size and detail. “The main blade is reputedly named Fury. The magic it supplies is unclear, but words passed through the years suggest that the sword imparts power to its wielder that is triggered by anger.”

  Diana groaned. “Is nothing simple?”

  Her mentor laughed darkly. “Of course not. If it were, would you be here?”

  “A very valid point. However, I am coming to simply adore your company.”

  A snort. “Sure, Diana, sure.” She twitched her fingers again, and the daggers grew. “One is Angel, the other Demon. Again, there are many rumors but not much in the way of actual historical fact. The one persistent truth seems to be that they must be used together. There are no records of mixing one dagger with the sword, nor of using one on its own, only of both.”

  “And they are effective against Rhazdon’s Defense somehow?”

  Nylene shook her head with a frown. “Not as such. They are simply tools that may possess a similar power level and may be willing to work in proximity. When artifacts are hostile to one another, even when used by different people, they tend to add chaos and discord where none is required.”

  The Drow looked speculatively at the blades that hovered over her hand, then gestured them away. Diana watched them waver and vanish before she rose tiredly to her feet. “Is there any chance of a ride home?”

  That grin appeared again, the one that seemed condescending but somehow warm in a hidden, sarcastic, probably-making-fun-of-you sort of way. “But of course, protege. Mind you, watch out for the tentacles.”

  Diana put a fake smile on her face. If I didn’t need your help to portal out of here, I’d have some choice words for you. She listed them in her head until the moment she stepped through the portal, made it three feet, and collapsed onto her living room couch, already asleep.

  Chapter Four

  Cara lowered the rear gate of the SUV and pushed it closed with a soft click. They were several blocks away from the target, but it never hurt to be careful. She whispered, “Procidat,” to activate her illusion necklace. There was no indication that anything happened, but the nod Anik gave her confirmed that her disguise was in place. She led her two teammates to the staging area, and they all crouched in the shadows, their dark uniforms and gear blending in seamlessly.

  She whispered again, this time to the AI contained in the metal collar that rested flat against her neck. She’d been third in line after Diana and Rath, and tonight was her first action with the device. “Quinn, objective status.”

  The AI’s female voice, warm with an edge of sarcastic sass, replied “No change. Traffic in and out as expected. No evidence that target has left the building.”

  “At least he’s a predictable scumbag.” They’d identified the level-three bounty through one of Kayleigh’s scanning algorithms, made possible by their new access to the city’s entire surveillance grid—a small fact the local PD would probably have a problem with if they knew. The man they sought usually worked as part of a gang and displayed no obvious magic when with them. He freelanced every so often, though, and indulged in the wanton destruction of property through the liberal application of arcane fire.

  Fortunately, when people were present in the structure he’d marked for demolition, he provided a warning in the form of a magical shout and potential victims had obligingly fled. Without exception, by the time the authorities arrived, he had vanished. They’d only identified him when they located camera coverage of the lookout point from which he admired his handiwork on his last job, which had destroyed a newly constructed apartment building.

  Tony suggested there could be an ulterior motive at work, that rather than being a simple firebug, the man might be a freelance property assassin of some kind. Anik countered that he might be reading too many novels, but privately, Cara could see it as a possibility. Corporate espionage had always been an element of the business, and to imagine such activities on the forefront of the magic-human interface and a small step over the line of legality wasn’t much of a stretch.

  The asshole is lucky no one’s died as result of his games, or this would go down very differently. His mundane gang limited itself to those in the game and had thus far avoided killing anyone. They’d also popped up on the radar of the group Sloan had infiltrated as a hindrance to their advance in yet another organization. Tonight’s action was, in part, to clear the path so their undercover face could get deeper.

  There are too many levels. I liked it better when we simply kicked ass and didn’t worry about the rest. Even as she thought it, Cara knew it wasn’t true. The intelligence and strategic sides of things appealed to her almost as much as the tactical, which fit her role as second in command extremely well.

  “Quinn, let’s hear them.” A soft chime signaled the AI’s acknowledgment of the order, and after a short pause, it activated the directional microphone on the drone. The bar the gang used as a clubhouse had only a few windows, and those high and small, but the equipment was sensitive enough to pick up vibrations as sound waves reached them.

  At first, a cacophony of music and gabble fed into their earpieces, but Quinn quickly applied algorithms to eliminate the unnecessary noise. The AI focused on conversations in sequence and switched to a new set of voices after several seconds until Tony said, “That one,” over the comm. Cara relayed the command to the AI. A few moments of imperfect resolution followed as the system tested various sound filters. Finally, the sounds of three men resolved into enough clarity that the BAM agents might have been sitting at the next table.

  The first spoke quickly and with a heavy Pittsb
urgh accent. “Boss, we’re in this to make money, not to wait around for some wicked witch to decide it’s time for us to do something. The crew is all here. Let’s go break some stuff and take some stuff.”

  Another voice offered a grunt of either acknowledgment or approval, she couldn’t tell which. The third, when it spoke, was cultured, accent-free, and with a low, even cadence. “We need to wait and see what happens. We knew that joining up with Marcus and his group would mean giving up some choices.”

  When the grunter replied, he was almost an average of the other two and placed between them in speed, accent, pitch, and timbre. “Well, it was one thing when Marcus was in charge, right? Even after, when that Vincent dude called the shots, it was okay. But the witch, man…she’s crazy.”

  “Vincente,” the third voice corrected. The team exchanged nods to confirm their agreement that the speaker was the target. “And yeah, she’s nuts. But hopefully, we’ll have Marcus back soon—at least, that’s the word on the street.”

  Cara ordered, “Quinn, send that whole conversation to Kayleigh for analysis and flag it for the boss’s attention. I don’t like the sound of that. Also, keep the recording going until we get inside. Once we do, move the drone to watch the area around the bar.”

  The AI replied, “Gotcha. Consider it done.” Cara shook her head. Kayleigh’s really outdone herself with these personalities. She waved, and the team advanced. The building stood on the end of a cramped neighborhood block, and they approached it from the rear.

  She found cover in the shadows of the structure. “Anik, do your thing.” He moved ahead in a crouch without answering and put his spine to the wall beside the facility’s rear exit. The position of the hinges had revealed the door swung outward, so they’d chosen an old school method of blocking it. The demolitions expert extended the sections of a collapsible pole, locked them in place with a series of sharp twists, then wedged it between the handle and the ground. A forceful enough attack might dislodge it, but it would at least provide a delay. He nodded when it was set.

  Cara hurried them down the alley that ran along the side of the building not bounded by the street. A dim light filtered from above, but ample shadow provided concealment as they moved forward. They had eliminated the high windows on this surface as a concern since the angles were all wrong for someone to look out of them unless they had a ladder. She stuck her head out of the alley entrance for a quick glance and confirmed that no one was present at the front door. “Is everyone ready?”

  Tony’s grin was almost audible. “I’ve been ready for about seventeen hours now. Are you ever going to kick this thing off?”

  “Quiet, you, or I’ll show you how well I kick things off, starting with your head.”

  Anik chuckled as he added, “Ready.”

  Cara gripped her stun rifle tightly and wished she could lead with the AR-15 strapped to her chest instead. She would be the third to move but the first to cross the threshold into the building. They’d received a video of the interior earlier, which showed a generally featureless rectangle with a long bar on the left, tables down the middle, and booths on the right. The place didn’t have a kitchen, apparently, and any storage was probably down below.

  “Quinn, red lights.” A confirmation chime sounded as the AI blocked entry to the area at the nearest streetlights. It wouldn’t last for long and wouldn’t stop purely local traffic, but they had the access and keeping the number of bystanders down was always valuable. She paused a moment to run through the op in her mind to be sure she hadn’t missed anything.

  All the boxes held check marks. “Go.”

  Tony bolted from the alley, ran to the front door, and yanked it wide. Anik was a step behind him and flashed past the opening without breaking stride to throw a pair of flashbang grenades into the large open space. Cara ducked in a second later as those within reacted to the clatter of the canisters. They emitted their warning pulse, and her earpieces and goggles shifted into protective mode as she crouched to the left behind the curve of the bar.

  Cries and screams followed the sensory barrage, and she rose to take advantage of the enemy’s disorientation. A trio at the bar looked like what she’d pictured from the overheard conversation and she fired at the nearest man. Another goon crashed into her at that instant and the shot went wide and struck the bartender instead. He fell back with a comical look of shock and dismay to disappear behind the bar.

  She impacted against the wall, and the man rebounded slightly to give her enough room to free her leg. Using the wall as leverage, she delivered a sidekick into his ribs and felt them give, then shot him with the stun gun as he fell to make sure he stayed down. The three targets abandoned their high barstools and raced toward the back. Their flight brought a smile at the thought of the surprise that awaited them. She fired at enemies who presented themselves and heard the whines of Tony’s and Anik’s weapons as they did the same. Easy Peasy.

  A shouted curse revealed that the fleeing hoodlums had found the blocked door. The agents chuckled as they made their way toward the rear and cleared the room as they moved forward. Tony’s voice sounded as calm as if he sat at the office. “Maybe we’ll get bounties on all these dudes since they’re in the company of a level-three.”

  Anik’s humor-tinged reply followed immediately. “And rightfully so. We have a business to run. Dealing with criminals is expensive work.”

  Cara fired at the last person standing upright in the main room and dashed into the back. An explosion emanated from the small hallway that led to the exit, and smoke billowed out of it. “Damn. It looks like our target found a way through our clever blockade.”

  The demolitions expert laughed. “If you had let me rig it with explosives, they wouldn’t have done so.”

  “These are not dead or alive bounties. And who knows what bystanders could wind up finding your toys? Not every problem can be solved with explosives.”

  Tony joined them at the mouth of the hallway. “Actually, every problem can but not every problem should. Arguably.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to believe in the rule of law and stuff?”

  The former detective laughed. “Yeah, but I’m also anti-running. And now we have to run.”

  Anik led the way down the corridor, one careful step at a time. “Maybe you need to exercise more.”

  She saw Tony’s frown out of the corner of her eye as they advanced. “Maybe we need to find more people for the Agency so we have backup when they run.” A window opened in their glasses to display the feed from the drone which revealed that the three runners had split up. The leader went straight and the other two headed left and right.

  Tony sighed. “I have the one on the right.”

  Anik said, “Left,” and turned immediately when he dashed out the door.

  “I’m on the leader.” Heh. Rath would be all over that quote. The comms remained silent except for breathing as they sprinted after their targets. “Quinn, show me feeds from Tony and Anik.” A pair of windows opened to display the cameras mounted in the center of the other agents’ glasses frames. The demolitions expert closed on his target in the bouncy view. The man was thin with long hair that trailed his running form. Cara estimated that Anik would have him in another minute, but the camera tilted down as he skidded to a stop. She saw it all from his perspective as he snatched a flat piece of metal from the ground—about twice the size of a license plate—and whipped it like a frisbee at his foe.

  The missile flew true and connected with the man’s calves to bring him down in a hard stumble and fall. Anik’s view bounced again as he closed on the rising man to deliver a perfect jab-jab-uppercut to put him on the pavement for good. Cara grinned and focused on her own quarry, now about ten seconds ahead of her. He wove and shifted his speed intermittently enough that she couldn’t be sure of a stun gun shot and didn’t want to pull her pistol for fear of a fatal wound. She kept a wary eye on him as she pounded along his trail in case he decided to bring his magic into play.

 
; Quinn closed the window as Anik zip-tied his target and the team leader spared some attention for Tony’s feed. His opponent had made it halfway up the ladder to a fire escape when a shot from the stun gun pounded into his back. The man fell at the former detective’s feet and his collapsed form wavered in the head-shaking view. Tony panted into his mic. “Idiot. You can’t out-climb energy blasts. Hopefully, the fall did his IQ some good.”

  That window closed as well and left her to focus on the man in front of her. A fence lay a short distance ahead and separated their alley from the street beyond. Suddenly, a blast of flame jetted from his lowered hands to propel him up and over the barrier. Cara growled and angled toward a dumpster, vaulted upward and onto it, then pushed against it to leap off and clear the barricade.

  Only a frantic tumble saved her from the blast of fire that set the wooden slats behind her ablaze. Her foe stood before her, his arms raised to show his neutral intentions. His voice was deep and recognizable from the recordings. “We don’t have to do this. You can walk away. I take pride in not hurting people.”

  She rose to her feet. “You call burning down people’s property not hurting?”

  He shrugged, an elegant move, and his leather jacket rippled in a way that displayed its quality when it fell back into perfect lines. Diana would be jealous. “There’s hurting, and there’s hurting. At worst, I’m inconveniencing individuals and making life difficult for insurance companies.”

  “Being magical doesn’t give you the right to ignore our agreed-upon rules for living. You know, like laws?”

  The man laughed. He had perfect teeth in his handsome face. Okay, maybe it’s pretty-boy Sloan who would be jealous.

  “Please. Spare me.” He raised his hands slightly. “This is your last chance.”

  She’d shifted her weight subtly while they talked, inch by unnoticed inch, and arrived at the fulcrum point between preparation and action. Without warning, she hurled the stun gun at him, broke into a sprint, and angled to the right. He blasted the weapon instinctively, and when the fire met the battery, the heat caused it to explode and hurl shrapnel in all directions.