by TR Cameron
The three women looked at each other, and Kayleigh summed up their shared opinion. “Damn. That doesn’t sound good.”
Cara nodded. “Do you think they’ll go after the stadiums here, too?”
Diana shook her head. “I really don’t. It seems that was all about misdirection. I imagine what they really wanted was to wipe out the defenses against them in Philly. It’s probably a prelude to making a power grab of some kind. But I can’t see them doing the same thing here since they know we’re around. It’s actually odd that they sent people from Pittsburgh there, isn’t it?”
Kayleigh jumped in with an answer right away. “I’ve worked on that idea for a while. I can see two main possibilities. Option one is their Philadelphia team was doing something else that night, or there weren’t many of them and they needed supplementing.”
Cara tapped her temple. “Those are some deep thoughts there. Couldn’t you come up with anything more obvious?”
The tech made a gun with her fingers and pantomimed shooting the other woman. “Option two—and this is the one I prefer—is we’re looking at a situation like the mafia in movies, where a single person is in charge of a city. They don’t have all that many top people in the game, so they don’t have many cities with a strong presence.”
Diana nodded. “The last one might make some sense. Although it could also be that there’s enough activity going on in so many places that they’re working regionally.”
Cara replied “Uh-uh. I don’t buy it. I think it could have something to do with what you both have said, but that’s granting them too much deliberate choice. Maybe they make it up as they go along. Some of this seems fairly random, you have to admit.”
The discussion was ended by Tony’s arrival through the door from the parking garage. He hurried over to them. “I didn’t want this on the radio, even the encrypted ones, but the Warden says there’s something going on in the Cube. That Vincente dude, his human follower, and a group of Kilomea all seem more animated and are chatting more. She’s allowed it for now but can shut it down if we need her to.”
Diana shrugged. “As long as we listen in, we might as well see where they lead us, right?” The others agreed.
Her second in command asked, “Hey, Tony, how’s the dumbass pirate doing in there? I still regret not shooting him for being an idiot.”
The former detective shook his head with a disbelieving look on his face. “So, this is about the best story of the day, really. They put him on the fourth level—where Vincente is—which basically means solitary confinement. Warden Murphy didn’t want him to talk to any of his followers in there, which is logical. Well, after the tranquilizers they’d given him wore off, he freaked out and acted like he had a seizure or some garbage. They brought him to the infirmary and checked him out, but found nothing.”
Kayleigh made a tsking sound. “Was he merely being a baby?”
“I’m almost there, hang on. So, he’s going down in the elevator, and the guards can see him getting worse with each passing floor. He was okay on the top, began to itch on two, trembled on three, and freaked out again on four.”
Diana realized what he was about to say before he said it. “No way. He is not.”
Tony laughed. “He is. He really is. The Prince of Plunder is a bonafide magical creature. He’s apparently used his magic so often it’s part of him now, and he can’t function normally without its presence.”
Cara blinked. “I did not see that coming.”
“No one did, least of all the workers at the Cube. So he’s been moved to level five and now hangs out with the guard-bots, seemingly as calm as can be. No wands permitted, of course.”
Diana had that odd feeling again of a big picture she couldn’t quite see. Damn, woman, you’re paranoid. Knock it off. “This town is weirder and weirder. I vote we move. Who’s with me?”
Kayleigh snorted. “You just made me come here. No leaving.”
“All right, fine. Let’s put a proverbial pin in this and return to it when we have more information.” She stared at them and they didn’t move, so she made shooing gestures with her hands. “Clueless people, this means you need to go and get more information. Off with you.”
They departed, laughing, and Kayleigh gave her a one-finger salute before she left. Diana shook her head. After she’d learned of the troll’s roller-boots, she and the tech had downed a few drinks and engaged in a heart-to-heart. It hadn’t gone quite the way she’d expected, as their new roommate shared some very deep and insightful thoughts on the things they needed to do to allow their resident troll to reach the heights he wanted to reach. Diana had been convinced, but Kayleigh went a step too far when she suggested rocket boots. She’d gotten blustery, and the tech had departed for the basement with mocking laughter at how well the provocation worked following her all the way down.
She activated the buttons to isolate her comm and connect it to her phone and dialed Bryant. He picked up after one ring. His voice was concerned. “What’s up?”
“No hello? No how are you doing?”
He chuckled, but the worry didn’t leave his tone. “Hello, Diana, so lovely to hear from you! I pray that you are doing well. What inspires your ever so welcome call on this fine day?”
She laughed despite her effort not to. “Have I told you you’re a jerk lately?”
“I merely insert those words mentally every third sentence or so to save you the trouble.”
“Okay. You win this round, but I will have my revenge. The word around town is that something big will go down in the not too distant future.”
“Like stadium big?”
“Uncertain.”
He sighed. “Damn.”
She nodded. “Yep, couldn’t have said it better myself.”
“What do you need from me?”
She laughed. “A mobile armory.” He sputtered, and she finished quickly. “I think it’d be good if you were in town.”
“Okay. You got it. I’ll be there tomorrow at the latest.”
“Perfect. Thanks, Bryant.”
“Is that your sincere voice?”
She blew out an exasperated breath. “No, this is, so listen carefully. You, Bryant Bates, are a jerk.” She hung up to his laughter and wondered if calling him in was overkill. I really, really hope so. But I doubt it.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
It had cheered Rath up when Diana finally went back to work a few days before. He had been worried after the battle out of town and both disappointed and illogically ashamed that he wasn’t there to protect her from getting hurt. Partners should stick together. Still, he understood that there was no way to dependably disguise him and agreed that risking Sloan’s cover would have been bad.
Despite that, a voice inside whispered that he’d failed somehow.
He and Max had patrolled with a purpose the last few days, both in their neighborhood and in the downtown area, looking for clues or leads or anything that would be of some use. The ominous sense that something big was about to happen hung over everything. He even thought that the average person on the street looked a little more tense than usual.
The troll spent hours each night doing the same thing with Gwen instead of the Borzoi, but not a single piece of the puzzle had shaken out yet. His biggest accomplishment in the last trio of days and nights was intervening to shoo away a couple of mangy dogs that had cornered a cat in an alley. The feline hadn’t even been grateful for the rescue and tried to claw him. He’d growled, the cat panicked and ran, and that had been that.
His mood was low as he and Max wandered through their old neighborhood, headed for the Cathedral where Professor Charlotte now worked. He figured that he could at least spend some time in the ancient-looking common area, or maybe in one of the classrooms decorated in the style of a different culture. He particularly enjoyed the Irish-themed room and had more than once heard a child whisper, “Look, it’s a leprechaun,” as families toured the spaces.
But when he saw the Professo
r and Manny walking together toward the coffeehouse with the delicious bubble tea, he and Max diverted to follow and caught up with them about a block before the entrance. Both of their expressions were uncommonly grave, and they greeted him with only a nod and a gesture for him to precede them into the store. Booths made up the wall the door was on and the one to the left, and Max selected a table to lay under. Rath slid in, and shortly thereafter, the older folks returned with a bowl of water for the dog and tea for the rest of them. Professor Charlotte sat beside him, and Manny took the opposite side.
“Why upset?” Rath’s sense that things were heading in the wrong direction had intensified upon seeing their faces and grown with every second since.
Emanuel shook his head. “We all feel like something bad is about to happen. Each of us thought we were the only one but then we talked about it and discovered we all shared the same dread.”
The troll nodded. “Me too. Other shoe.”
Professor Charlotte replied, “Exactly that. I’m not sure what the first shoe was, but it truly feels as if another one is about to fall. And land right on our heads.”
“Attack in Philadelphia. Remembrance.”
Manny blinked, startled. “Really? The news merely said it was a freak accident.”
“Coverup. Bad guys.”
“Holy cow. That’s…bad, I guess is the only word for it. But very bad.”
“How can we help your group, Rath?” she asked.
He looked at Max, but the dog didn’t have any ideas either. “Not sure. Keep lookout. Tell if you see something.” He raised his eyes to the man across the table. “Hide artifacts.”
They both nodded. The troll took a sip of his tea, but even the tapioca bubble filling his mouth with sweetness failed to lighten his mood. The others sensed it or felt it themselves, and the gathering quickly broke up. Rath and Max headed home to be ready in case they were needed.
Reflecting back upon it, Nehlan thought that never in his life had he been as angry as when Dreven denied him the opportunity to kill the woman after he’d tagged her. His plans had been set and his weapons prepared, all in readiness to eliminate her that very evening. He was sure that when his master contacted him, it would be to wish him good fortune on the elimination of that particular threat.
But no.
Instead, his increasingly hateful superior had told him to wait until the moment was right. Nehlan had argued vehemently about the benefits of catching the woman unaware while she believed she was safe with her friend. He’d made the case that they would never, ever, have her more defenseless than that night. His logic was flawless. He was positive he would have his wish.
But no.
“You will wait,” was all Dreven had said before his magical representation vanished, leaving the elf sitting at his table, the deactivated statue in front of him, completely stunned and more furious than he had ever been. He’d called his human servants in and planned to kill them in her stead, but the fact that they had no minds left to resist with made it a futile gesture, and he sent them away with copious curses instead.
The intervening time had been spent uselessly. His mind was locked on the woman, obsessed with vengeance. Killing her would get him back into the good graces of the Remembrance leadership, and to have it delayed was maddening. His brain went around and around and made arguments that his imaginary superior denied one after the other. He managed no sleep, only unconsciousness when his body stopped responding after several days of wakefulness.
But today, finally, his journey to vindication would begin, even though it was to be far different than his imagination had painted it. When given the new approach, he’d done his reconnaissance and located a secluded space close to his target’s house that he could portal into. His contracted subordinates had watched her for days, ready to alert him if she should do something unexpected, but her routine was like clockwork. While the middle of the night would have been his choice of timing, the orders were to make his move in the late afternoon. That was not optimal but doable. At least it was a weekend day, so she would be at home.
He stepped through from his Oriceran bunker to a park around the corner from the woman’s house. The space had been cleared in advance by his human employees. He’d considered letting them take care of this step of the process, but his anticipation of defeating Agent Diana Sheen had nagged at him for so long that he couldn’t pass up any part of it, no matter how small.
With an incantation and a wave of his arm, his features changed into those of the old man he’d used before. He walked slowly down his target’s tree-lined street and admired the houses and watched the traffic, prepared to slow his approach or abandon the action for another walk around the block should any human authority appear. Nehlan scanned extra carefully for one of the dark, supposedly unmarked government vehicles that were nonetheless surprisingly easy to distinguish from any other cars that might be near them.
There was nothing to see. The time was right. His heart beat faster at the thought that finally—finally—things were about to begin. If he played his cards right, if it all went according to plan, Diana would give her power up to become part of his necklace, which inched ever-closer to completion. Soon, my magical strength will surpass Dreven’s, and then we will see what we will see, oh yes, indeed.
He glanced forward and back at his hirelings whom he’d posted as lookouts on the corners, and neither signaled him to stop. The old man walked up the small flight of stairs with a totter appropriate to the image he presented and rang the doorbell. His wrinkled face tilted to smile at the camera mounted above and held up the package he had brought as an excuse, printed with the words, A gift for, followed by the target’s name.
She opened the door, kept the chain latched, and looked through the gap. “Hi, I don’t think I know you.” Her hand was hidden, and for a moment, he worried she might have a weapon and be about to attack. Then, he smiled. Maybe if it was the other one. But not her.
He grinned wider, and even though he knew he should continue the charade, he simply couldn’t wait any longer. He stood tall and allowed the illusion to fall away, and the woman’s jaw dropped. She started to push the door closed, but a blast of power knocked it open, shattered the chain, and threw her across the room. The woman slammed into a small wooden dining table and tumbled over it to land in a heap on the far side.
Supremely confident, he stalked inside slowly and gestured with a hand to shut the door. He’d seen that she had no weapon hidden, so now it was merely her skills against his power. He held no fear that she might win. Again, maybe the other one, but not her.
The woman’s blonde hair was the first thing to emerge from behind the table, followed by a very angry face. He nodded. “You don’t seem afraid. You really should be.”
“Of you?” she replied. “Come closer, pointy, and I’ll kick your ass right back to your own planet.”
He laughed, deep and long. “It figures that the best friend of Diana Sheen would be as overconfident and disrespectful as the woman herself.” His target paled when she realized that he desired to not only hurt her but to use her against one she cared for. It makes the effort even more delicious. Perhaps, before I kill him, I will thank Dreven for changing the plan.
She yelled a battle cry, vaulted the table, and charged at him. Nehlan let her get close so she’d imagine she was doing well, and when she jumped to kick him, he slapped her aside with a fist backed by his power and catapulted her into the couch at his side with enough force to topple it. He circled slowly and looked at her where she lay blinking and dazed on the floor, her temple bleeding. A small gesture applied gentle magical pressure to the blood vessels in her neck until her eyes rolled back in her head.
He crossed to the door and leaned out, then beckoned for his hirelings to join him. Things had to move quickly now if they were to close the trap on the vexing agent.
Diana had come into work on Saturday because she couldn’t stay at home any longer. She and Rath drove each other nuts
and both of them fed off the other’s sense that something was in the works. They talked about it but had arrived at no solutions. They’d sparred, gone for a run, and even tried playing board games, but nothing would push away the funk that hung over them.
Even Kayleigh wasn’t immune to it and had locked herself away in her basement apartment with her video games and essentially remained disconnected from the world. The only thing Diana could think of that might have helped was a training session with her magical mentor, but the relationship with the Drow was still very much one-way. Unless it was a dire emergency, Nylene called her, not the reverse.
She replayed the footage fed back by their glasses from the battle in Philadelphia to see if there were any clues at all in it. Alfred hadn’t found any, so she wasn’t particularly confident about her ability to do so, but she had to do something. When her phone rang, she instantly hoped it was the Drow somehow reading her thoughts, then reconsidered. If she can read my mind and knows what I think about her during training, I’m basically screwed. When she saw Lisa’s name, a small smile managed to crack through her stress.
She forced a light tone, not wanting to burden her friend with her worries. “Hey, girl, what’s up?”
“I’m sorry, Lisa can’t come to the phone right now.” The voice was deep and menacing.
Diana’s blood turned to ice. “Who the fuck is this, and where’s Lisa?”
He laughed. “Oh, Agent Sheen, there’s no reason to be that way. After all, it’s you we want. And your friend is unharmed. Well, mostly. For the time being, anyway.”
She growled a rumble of anger. “I promise that I will end you in the most painful ways I can find if Lisa comes to harm.”
