Deicide

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Deicide Page 22

by M. K. Gibson


  “Conference room. Now.”

  “Umm, can it wait 5-ish minutes?” Arby asked. “I kinda need some pants.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  15 May - 7:10 am

  MORTAL Headquarters, Main Conference Room, District of Axis Mundi

  Sitting at the sleek black marble table, Eric felt out of place and exposed. Not because of his near nudity—that was fine. To be admired, really.

  No, it was the people in the room and the overall . . . scene. It was too gloomy. No one likes the moments in the story when everyone is low and overly moody. If life had a fast-forward function, he’d use it to skip past scenes like these.

  Well, it was time to do what he did best.

  “I’m just saying, would it have killed her to let me go get a pair of pants?” Eric asked aloud.

  “Arby, please,” Cass said from beside him. She tried to look at anything in the room except the man sitting across from her.

  “Cass, I—I still don’t understand,” Kyle said. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “I’m just saying, Mother-1 isn’t even here yet,” Arby said, a little louder than necessary. “I coulda gone and gotten some pants. While I have excellent wiping technique, accidents do happen. Hope I’m not ruining these seats. They look expensive. What kind of leather are these, anyway?”

  Gabby shrugged from where she sat while Kyle shook his head.

  “Hey Arby,” Kyle said. “Come on man. I’m trying to talk to Cass.”

  “No one stopping you. Besides, I’m talking about important issues,” Eric said. “My bits are hanging out. If MORTAL has an HR department, then I’m in trouble.”

  “Will both of you shut up?” Cass said. “We’ll talk later, Kyle.”

  “But—”

  Cass slammed her palm down on the table. “Later, okay?! I’m tired, I’m bruised, and my vagina is killing me.”

  Jessie shrugged. “Sorry?”

  Cass shook her head. “Don’t be. I woulda done the same to you.”

  “If it makes you feel better,” Jessie said, rubbing her mouth, “I think you knocked one of my teeth loose.”

  “It does,” Cass nodded.

  “Jeez, you people,” Freeman said from the end of the table. She looked at Kyle. “Were we this bad?”

  “When we first met? Yes,” Kyle said. “Remember how you and Deek used to fight over the dumbest crap? Music mostly.”

  Eric looked over at Kyle. “Deek? What do you mean . . . Deek?”

  “Hey there, baby brother,” a voice said from the conference room door.

  Eric’s guts locked up. Looking over, he saw his brother roll in. From his wheelchair, his low-rider reflection tossed him a set of 2XL APD sweats. The clothing hit him in the face and then fell to the floor.

  “Nice reflexes.”

  “D-Derek?” Eric said. “Is—is that you?”

  “Yes. Now stop babbling and put your clothes on. Not only are you embarrassing me, but you’re making me regret nominating you for this position.”

  “Wha—what are you doing here?” Eric asked as he mindlessly began putting on the sweats.

  “I work here,” Derek said, then sighed. “I was hoping this was going to go a bit more smoothly.”

  “You haven’t spoken to me in years. Why would this go smoothly?”

  Derek sighed. “Because I’d told DeLeon to let you know that I was here.”

  Eric’s head whipped over at Jessie. “Something you wanna tell me?”

  “Uh, sorry, got kinda sidetracked.” Jessie shrugged. “Hey uh Arby, your brother works here and he said to tell you that he’s glad you’re on the team?”

  “Gee . . . thanks, New Girl.”

  “Nice cover,” Cass whispered and shot her a thumbs-up. Jessie gave her a middle finger.

  Eric turned back to his brother. “I—”

  “Later. We have other things to deal with and—”

  “No, now!” Eric insisted, his voice booming. “What the hell is going on? You disappear for years. And—”

  “I couldn’t!” Derek yelled up at him. “I couldn’t talk to you.”

  “Why? Because of what happened?”

  “You think I blame you for this?” Derek asked, patting his hand against the wheelchair.

  “Yes?”

  “Oh, little brother, no,” he said, his eyes wide. “Getting shot ended my gangbanging days. I became an engineer and a scientist, man. MORTAL recruited me out of college. I couldn’t talk to you because . . . well, you saw what happened. When the bad guys know who you are, they come after you. Come after your family. It’s what they do. I’d rather you be mad but be alive.”

  Derek looked over at Kyle and at Freeman. “It’s the same with them.”

  “I thought you had a husband and kids?” Jessie asked, looking at Freeman.

  “No,” she said. “Not anymore. Husband left me and took the kids because I was too . . . distant. I had to push them away.”

  “And you?” Cass asked.

  Kyle shook his head. “After you left me, my work was all I had. Messer found me in a bad place and recruited me.”

  “Sorry you had to learn it this way, baby brother.”

  Eric frowned. “And you can knock that baby brother crap off right now.”

  “You need to respect your elders.”

  “Two minutes does not count!”

  “I disagree,” Derek said with a smirk. “Two extra minutes matters. As I’m sure all your sexual partners will attest to.”

  Eric went to say something biting . . . but stopped. Instead, he laughed. “Well, I can’t argue with facts. Goddamn . . . it’s good to see you.”

  “Yeah. Me too,” Derek said. “I love seeing me also. Damn, I’m good looking. But it’s also good to see what would have happened if I let myself go. Seriously man, you ever hear of portion control?”

  The room was silent as the two estranged brothers looked at one another. Then, everyone slowly broke into bits of laughter.

  “Great, there’s two of them,” Jessie said.

  “Yup,” Derek said. “Geeky and Freaky Deaky. But seriously, sit down.”

  “Why?” Eric asked. “We were told to meet Lady Casper here and . . . and she’s behind me, isn’t she?”

  “Yes, I am,” Mother-1 whispered directly into Eric’s ear.

  “God . . . damn it, ghost-woman,” Eric winced, clutching at his chest.

  “Arrhythmia again?” Derek asked.

  “Yup,” Eric said, his eyes closed. “I really should see a doctor about this.”

  “I am a doctor.”

  “How do I look?

  “Chubby.”

  “I hate you,” Eric said as he sat down. “Proceed, oh spectral one.”

  Mother-1 drifted through the table and took her seat at the head of the table. “At approximately 1815 yesterday, the criminal enforcer ‘Mr. Whiskers’ was found dead in his cell. Later, at 2205, the god known as Vulcan Fireforge, after ingesting Vitae smuggled to him by two APD officers, exploded. Detective Sergeant Messer was critically injured and is currently out of commission. The APD’s First Precinct was badly damaged, as was the detention facility. As of this morning, dozens of criminals have escaped back onto the streets. Already, crime is rising throughout the city. The underworld senses weakness. No matter what we do next, we will be at a detriment because the bulk of the police force is responding to all manner of insane actions. So, to recap, all our current witnesses are dead, we have no active leads, we have little to no backup, and our top agent was nearly killed. Did I miss anything?”

  No one spoke.

  Mother-1 continued. “Detective Sergeant Messer believed that a forward-facing team was the next evolution of MORTAL. A team that not only the public knew about, but the underworld as well. It is our belief that darker tides of crime and evil are coming. Which was why he sought a team. And his selection process yielded you three. And in so, you all have made a mess of this investigation. Messer had faith in you. And I see that fait
h has been misplaced.”

  “That’s not fair,” Cass said.

  “And why is that, Detective Cross?” Mother-1 asked. “Other than fighting with your teammates and sleeping with a person of interest, I don’t see what you’ve brought to this investigation.”

  “Hey!” Jessie yelled as she stood. “Cross was the one who came up with the idea to stop Whiskers at the ley-line junction, and she helped chase down Vulcan.”

  “Officer DeLeon,” Mother-1 said. “The orphan suck-up. And what have you done to help solve the death of Hermes and stop the spread of Vitae?”

  “She took a bullet meant for me, you sanctimonious bitch,” Cass said, nodding at Jessie.

  Eric was so proud of her.

  “And we have a couple of the redcap assassins in holding here.”

  “Yes, that is true. But I don’t know if it will be enough,” Mother-1 said, looking at Gabby.

  The elf scanned the room. Her face darkened and she shook her head no.

  “Why?” Cass asked. “What’s going on?”

  Mother-1’s mouth tightened for a moment. “If we cannot prove to the elves that we can control this city, then they will descend on the city in force.”

  “And what does that mean?” Jessie asked.

  Eric smiled. “Pleeease . . . please please please be the ‘you have forty-eight hours to crack this case’ speech.”

  “Right?” Derek said from beside him. “I’ve always wanted to hear that.”

  “Detective and Dr. Deacon, at this moment the APD has been crippled by unknown criminal forces. Persons unknown have killed gods and are apparently siphoning souls and processing them into street drugs. So no, you do not have forty-eight hours. You have until midnight to find the person or persons responsible.”

  “Why?” Cass asked. “What happens at midnight?”

  “Gabby?” Mother-1 said.

  The elf hung her head slightly, then began to gesture in a complex pattern of symbols.

  Jessie raised an eyebrow, watching her hands. “What does ‘scorched earth’ mean?”

  Kyle hung his head. “Scorched earth policy is, in effect, a rest button.”

  “Could you be more clear?” Cass asked.

  Freeman shook her head. “It means that the elves built this city so that myths would have a home when the real world rejected them. And it works as long as everyone plays by the agreed-upon rules. But if things get too bad, then they will no longer play by said rules. The elves come in and put down anyone or anything they see as trouble.”

  “And I cannot guarantee that innocents would be spared,” Mother-1 added.

  “What about The Eye?” Cass asked. “Why don’t you just use that to find the ones responsible?”

  Freeman shook her head. “With the amount of crime going on right now, The Eye of Balor is being tasked like mad to help the APD.”

  “But what we’re dealing with trumps that!” Cross said in frustration. “Jesus, what’s the point of having the damn thing if it can’t be used to find out who the Laughing Man is?”

  Suddenly, it all snapped into place. Eric almost started to laugh.

  “What?” Cass asked.

  “They can’t,” he said. “We already suspected that the Laughing Man is a god. That’s the only thing that makes sense. The Eye can’t see who’s behind all this. It’s another reason Messer needed an active team on the streets.”

  Mother-1 nodded. “Well done, Detective Deacon. Yes, The Eye of Balor does have limitations. It cannot directly, or indirectly, see the movements of gods, higher beings, power users of magic, and select locations in the city.”

  “But that’s a closely guarded secret,” Freeman added. “If the populace knew, then who knows how they’d react.”

  “Very true,” Mother-1 said. “So, you have your time table and your parameters. You have the resources of MORTAL to back you up. Agent Freeman, as the ranking officer, the operation is under your supervision until Detective Sergeant Messer has been fully restored. Good luck.”

  No sooner had she finished her statement than Mother-1 vanished.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  15 May - 7:32 am

  MORTAL Headquarters, Main Conference Room, District of Axis Mundi

  Arby threw his hands in the air. “Does anyone have a plan? Or are we just doomed?”

  Cassy eyed her partner. “I—I think I might. But I need to know all the variables.”

  “Right,” Freeman said. “Let’s work this. We have pieces, so let’s put it together.”

  Cassy watched Arby stand while shaking his head. “Okay, which way is out of here?”

  Freeman’s brow furrowed. “Where are you going?”

  “Messer makes us do this back in the crappy Transit Authority conference room.”

  “Just sit down. I think you three have earned your position here,” Freeman said.

  Arby turned to Cassy and Jessie, waggling his eyebrows. “Didja hear that? We’re people now!”

  “Plus, the basement is a mess, what with the exploding god and all,” Freeman added.

  Cassy sighed. “Okay, we all heard the stakes and what we’ve lost. We have a short time to get this done. So let’s see what we do have going for us.”

  “Redcap assassins in holding,” Freeman said. “If we get them to talk, it might give us a name to the one who hired them. That’s a possible starting point.”

  Cassy shook her head. “Sure, that would be nice. But they’re pros. They won’t talk under simple interrogation.”

  “She’s right,” Kyle said. “If we push beyond that, anything they say would be inadmissible due to perceived torture and extreme duress.”

  Gabby snapped her fingers, then took out her wand.

  “Where you going, Gabs?” Derek asked.

  She flashed a wide, mischievous smile, then vanished.

  “Where’d she go?” Jessie asked.

  Freeman shook her head. “Who knows. She does this, especially when Messer isn’t around. But back to the task. The redcaps can wait. Kyle, what did your CI’s turn up?”

  Ito shifted in his chair while his tail swished back and forth. “Weird stuff. While I couldn’t get any information about who the Laughing Man is, or where the Vitae comes from, I did hear from several sources that there is a major push to find old-world relics and artifacts of power.”

  “Why?” Freeman asked.

  Kyle shook his head. “Dunno. But there are several big names out there paying serious money to get their hands on them. At first I didn’t pay it much mind. But the more I thought about it, I started seeing a connection.”

  “What kind of connection?” Freeman asked.

  “Well, I think Deek would know better than me from his end, but if Vitae is made from processed souls, then these relics and artifacts would a great way for someone to access old magic and godly power. Maybe this Laughing Man is using them to . . . I dunno, make a machine or something?”

  “A soul-sucking machine?” Arby asked. “I could get down with that.”

  “You would,” Deek said. “But it really isn’t that far off. I mean, the physics is wonky at best. But if you had the right relics, and the technical know-how to break down the artifacts, or transfer their raw power into some kind of machine, it’s possible. I’d need to check the math and a few magic grimoires, but its plausible. But you’d need a technical mind that’s a helluva lot more keen than mine.”

  “Like Vulcan’s is. Or was?” Arby asked.

  Deek looked at his brother. “Yeah. A god of forge and creation? That’d do it. But we’d still be talking about massive amounts of power. The human soul gives gods and magic a kick that goes beyond normal understanding. Controlling that much power from these relics would be near impossible.”

  “Unless Thor was involved,” Jessie said. “We know he and Vulcan know—well, knew—one another. If there is a god capable of channeling power, wouldn’t he fit the bill?”

  Deek nodded. “Again, plausible. But all this is if these two t
hings are related.”

  Cassy inclined her chin at Arby. “Sound familiar to you?”

  Arby nodded. “Little bit. Hey Kyle, your CI’s, they give any names for some of these relic buyers?”

  “Yeah, why?” he asked.

  “Because Cass and I were working an undercover job before being reassigned. There was this guy, Kilkenny, operating out of Shadowlake. He was buying up all kinds of artifacts.”

  “The Brobdingnagian?” Kyle asked. “Yeah, he’s one.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Cassy said. “Shifty leprechaun was under our nose the whole time.”

  “Well, let’s have a chat. He’s in holding!” Arby said.

  Jessie shook her head as she looked at a data tablet. “Sorry, but not anymore.”

  “What?” Cassy asked.

  Jessie looked over the report from the First Precinct. “Looks like Kilkenny was one of the suspects in holding that escaped. He’s in the wind and there’s no way to find him.”

  “I’ve got that covered,” Arby said, buffing his nails on his chest. “Slipped on him a few days ago.”

  “Right,” Cassy said. “He wasn’t wearing that coat when we saw him in Agartha, but odds are he has a new nest. We can find that. Okay, we have a lead.”

  A moment later Gabby reappeared through a small portal. With her, she had one of the redcap assassins. The goblin, wide-eyed and panting, stank of sweat and urine.

  “What’s going on, Gabby?” Freeman asked with half a smile.

  The elf nudged the redcap, who took a seat at the table. “Uh, hi?”

  “Hello,” Freeman said. “And you are Mr. Grmdjack, correct?”

  “Y-yeah,” the redcap said. “T-that’s m-me.”

  “Is there something you’d like to tell us, of your own free will?” Freeman asked.

  Grmdjack nodded. “I, well, we . . . we were contracted to—to . . .”

  “Kill us?” Cassy asked.

  “Yeah,” Grmdjack said, not meeting her eyes. “We were hired through the dark web. But we’d worked with this company before, doing . . . jobs.”

 

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