Cloak Games: Hammer Break

by Jonathan Moeller

  “Not like this,” said Corbisher. “The Royal Bank will have the best security in the US…”

  “What Marty is trying to say,” I said, “is that Elven nobles and Elven commoners bank there.” I rubbed my forehead. I felt a nasty headache coming. “Which means that the bank will have Elves on its staff. That means the security guards can use magic, which also means that the bank will have magical defenses in addition to conventional ones.”

  We considered that in silence for a moment.

  Morelli muttered something in Italian.

  “I don’t speak Italian,” I said, “but if he just said this is an incredibly stupid idea, I agree.”

  “You can see,” said Nicholas, “why we required your unique talents for this task, Miss Stoker.”

  I sighed. I could have argued. But to be blunt, I was over a barrel. The Forerunner’s deal with Morvilind required that I steal three things for Nicholas. The first thing had been Jeremy Shane’s briefcase from the ruins of Chicago.

  It looked like the second thing was in the Royal freaking Bank of Washington DC.

  “Fine,” I said. “All right. If we’re going to do this very stupid thing, let’s get on with it. What are we stealing from the Royal Bank?”

  “Fortunately, the item we are stealing is neither large nor unwieldy,” said Nicholas. “I require you to steal the contents of Deposit Box 547, Vault 19. The item itself weighs only a few ounces, and is two inches long and about an inch wide…”

  I blinked. “A thumb drive? You want me to steal a thumb drive?” That brought back a wave of déjà vu. Morvilind had sent me to steal thumb drives several times. Granted, the drives had never been in the Royal freaking Bank.

  “A very old thumb drive,” said Nicholas.

  I let out a long breath.

  I was willing to bet that thumb drive held information about Operation Sky Hammer and Jeremy Shane.

  “Okay,” I said. “Before we start, I have to make one thing clear.”

  “Oh,” said Lorenz with a smirk, “she’s going to make a speech now, is she? Silence, ladies and gentlemen, and…”

  “Shut up,” I said. “This isn’t a game, and this isn’t a movie set. We got into Chicago and got out alive again, yeah.” I overlooked the fact that Nicholas had tried to abandon me there. “That was hard enough, but all we had to deal with was one myothar and its army of insane undead. This is going to be a lot harder. Everyone working at the Bank will be looking out for Rebels or thieves or saboteurs, and one screw-up and we’re all dead.”

  “Your point?” said Nicholas.

  “That we must do this properly,” I said. “I doubt I can do it by myself. We’re going to need a plan, and a damned good one.”

  “As it happens, I agree,” said Nicholas. “Which is why you’re going to the Royal Bank tomorrow to have a look around.”

  “Oh, I am, am I?” I said.

  “You are,” said Nicholas. “Swathe, Morelli, and Murdo will accompany you.” Swathe looked displeased, while Morelli only nodded. Murdo remained impassive. “Your objective tomorrow is to look around the Bank and assess its defenses. Your ability to Cloak will allow you to access areas none of the rest of us could visit, and if possible, I want you to look at the vault level. It will be heavily defended, but we’ll need to have a better idea of those defenses before we can prepare a plan of operations.”

  “I don’t suppose you have a floor plan or any useful information about the building, do you?” I said.

  “Fortunately, I do,” said Nicholas.

  Corbisher smirked. “It’s amazing what bribes to the right officials can accomplish.”

  “It’s about time for lunch,” said Nicholas. “I suggest we get something to eat and reconvene here in one hour to begin planning.”

  “Yeah, you guys go do that,” I said. There was absolutely no way I would eat or drink anything Nicholas or one of his crew prepared for me. If Corbisher really had sent those anthrophages after me, I had no doubt that he would try to drug me if he could get away with it. Maybe his financier’s brain would realize that a drug would be way more cost-effective than ninety anthrophages with AK-47s.

  “You will not join us?” said Nicholas.

  “Nah,” I said. “I ate like, fifteen donuts this morning. I’m stuffed. Maybe I’ll take a nap.”

  “Fifteen?” said Hailey, her disdain clear.

  “All right, all right, I’m exaggerating,” I said. “It was actually more like twelve.”

  Hailey rolled her eyes, got to her feet, and stalked out of the room. I knew she was using contempt to hide the fact that I frightened her a great deal. Which was an odd thought. I didn’t want to frighten people, mostly because I had been trained to be unobtrusive. But after the Eternity Crucible, it had become harder and harder to pretend to be anything than what I really was.

  And what I had become a dangerous, possibly crazy, wizard of considerable power.

  “I’ll keep an eye on Miss Stoker, Connor,” said Murdo. “After all the work it took to get her here in one piece, I don’t want her wandering off and getting shot by one of the security guards.”

  “As you wish,” said Nicholas. He got to his feet, and the others followed him into the hallway, leaving me alone with Murdo. I wondered where they would get food. Maybe Nicholas had a cafeteria hidden in the basement. I had worked in a cafeteria a few times as a cover during some jobs for Morvilind, and it had been hard unpleasant work. Working in a Rebel cafeteria had to be even more unpleasant.

  I shook my head to clear away the odd thoughts and looked at Murdo. He still stood by the door, as motionless as a statue, albeit a muscular statue in a good suit. He looked as if he could stand there all week.

  We looked at each other for a while.

  “What,” I said at last, “a bunch of assholes.”

  Murdo coughed. “You realize this room is bugged.”

  “Of course it’s bugged,” I said. “That’s what they’re listening to while they eat lunch.” I leaned back in my chair and crossed my legs. “You realize that Corbisher was probably the one who sent the anthrophages after me.”

  Murdo nodded. “He did look guilty.” He sighed. “If he’s gone off the reservation, Connor will have to slap him down.”

  I blinked. “What reservation?”

  “Off the reservation?” said Murdo. When I showed no sign of comprehension, he kept speaking. “It’s a slang term from the Wizard’s Legion. When someone violates official rules or orders, we’d say he went off the reservation.”

  “Huh,” I said. Guess you learn something new every day.

  “Corbisher doesn’t seem to like you very much,” said Murdo.

  “Really? I thought he hated my guts.”

  Murdo waited.

  I sighed. “Did you know he was running for the governor of Minnesota about a year ago?” I almost said a hundred and sixty years ago, but I stopped myself in time.

  “And now he’s not,” said Murdo. “Guess you had something to do with it.”

  “Yeah. I got an elder bloodrat mad at me and escaped, so the bloodrat took out its temper on Corbisher instead,” I said. “That was before I got tangled up with these jerks.”

  “Why don’t you turn them in?” said Murdo.

  I blinked. “Sorry?”

  “Turn them into the Inquisition,” said Murdo. “You could do it easily. Especially if you really can cast a Cloak spell. If the Elven noblewoman you work for is dealing with the Rebels, the Inquisition will come for her as well. You could be free of them all.”

  “Yeah.” I grinned my mirthless grin at him. “Little problem with that, though. I’m married.”

  Murdo blinked. “Married.”

  “With a toddler, too,” I said. “Cute little boy.” I recalled the details of the lie I had told Nicholas in Indiana. “So, the Elven lady who trained me as a shadow agent made a deal with the Forerunner. I would steal three things for the Forerunner, and in exchange, the Forerunner would give some information to my la
dy. So, yeah. I know enough to take down Nicholas and to take down my Elven lady. Except if I do…”

  “The noblewoman will kill your husband and child,” said Murdo.

  “Yup,” I said.

  And it was almost the truth, except for the details. I didn’t serve an Elven noblewoman, but an Elven lord who also happened to be the most powerful wizard of the Elves. And if I screwed this up, Morvilind wouldn’t kill Russell. He wouldn’t bother. He just wouldn’t cast Russell’s yearly cure spell in July, and Russell would die of frostfever sometime in August.

  “I’m sorry,” said Murdo. “That’s a difficult position.”

  I folded my arms over my chest. “So why are you here?”

  Murdo didn’t say anything.

  “You’re not an asshole, and you’re not a coward,” I said, “and you’re not a bitter loser like Swathe or Corbisher. So why leave the Wizard’s Legion and join the Rebels?”

  “I had no other choice,” said Murdo.

  “Come on,” I said. “That’s a non-answer. What’s the real reason? What, did some Elven nobleman shoot your dog or steal your car or something?”

  Murdo almost smiled. “I’m not really a dog person.”

  “I know why I’m here,” I said. “Why are you here, Rory Murdo?”

  Murdo didn’t say anything. His hard face remained a cold mask, but I had the impression he seemed…relieved, somehow. Like he had been afraid I might say something else. I didn’t understand why. And didn’t understand why I liked him. In fact, my instinct was to trust him, but I couldn’t understand why.

  Murdo tensed, opened his mouth, closed it again. I waited.

  He started to speak…and then the door swung open.

  Victor Lorenz strolled into the room. He even managed to do that dramatically.

  “Isn’t this cozy?” said Lorenz, looking back and forth between Murdo and me and smiling. “I do hope I haven’t interrupted the interesting parts.”

  “Hi, Vicky,” I said. “If you’ve come here to grope me, I have a witness present.” I jerked my head at Murdo. “Also, if you try it again, I’ll shoot a fire sphere through the front of your skull and out the back. Just so we’re clear.”

  Lorenz only smirked and strolled forward a few paces. Murdo tensed. I just stared at Lorenz, my arms crossed, though I called power for a spell.

  “I know it was you, Katrina Stoker,” said Lorenz.

  “Gosh, are you trying to be mysterious?” I said.

  “I know it was you at Red Ditch,” said Lorenz.

  I didn’t say anything to that.

  “I thought I recognized that stupid ugly coat of yours,” said Lorenz. “Someone who looks a lot like you blew up my supply dump. But, well, I wasn’t sure. It was dark, and we were in a hurry. But then you used magic in front of me, and I recognized the feel of your spells. It’s one of the things I’m good at, magically speaking.”

  “If you’re trying to hit on me, it’s a really weird way to go about it.”

  Lorenz laughed. “Hit on you? Why do you think I groped your admittedly disappointing breast? Because I’m that hard up? No. I wanted to see what you would do. And when you summoned magic, I recognized the feel of your power. You were the one who wrecked our operation at Red Ditch.” His smile widened. “So, what do you have to say to that?”

  I stared at him, and I felt a cold prickle of unease.

  This was a dangerous man.

  He seemed like a self-absorbed, shallow, cruel former celebrity, which was because he really was a self-absorbed, shallow, cruel former celebrity. But underneath all the vanity and ego was a clever mind. I had known it at Red Ditch, and I saw more proof in front of me now. Despite all my precautions, he had realized that I was the one he had seen in Wyoming.

  And if he taunted me into admitting it, and the room really was bugged…then Nicholas and the gang would hear everything I said. And if I admitted that I had caused so much trouble for the Rebels, Corbisher would jump on it, and he might be able to force Nicholas to kill me. A leader can’t look weak in front of his followers.

  It was a neat little trap, and Lorenz had managed to think it up on the fly during the meeting.

  A very dangerous man.

  “What do I have to say to that?” I said. “I thought it was a stereotype that all actors were on cocaine, but given the level of paranoid delusion I see here, I wonder if you just snorted your lunch.”

  Lorenz smiled and gestured at himself. “Cocaine? And risk damaging this face? Certainly not, Miss Stoker. But don’t bother denying it. I know it was you. I know you’re too clever for me to prove it. But you can’t keep that up forever. Sooner or later you’ll slip up, and when you do, I am going to execute you as an enemy of the Revolution.”

  “Nicholas will be pissed,” I said, “especially since he’s listening to this conversation.”

  “Why would Nicholas be upset?” said Lorenz. “I am merely stating simple facts. When you show yourself as a traitor to the Revolution – and you will – I will deal with you as a traitor deserves. I am just informing you of that simple fact.” He flashed his too-white smile at me. “Though we can come to an arrangement. If you take off all your clothes and get on your knees…”

  “Get out,” I said.

  “Goodbye, Miss Stoker,” said Lorenz. “I enjoyed meeting you, and I do look forward to continuing this conversation.”

  With that, he strolled out of the conference room, the metal door clicking shut behind him.

  I scowled at the door. This was bad. Nicholas and Corbisher were dangerous enough. But I knew Lorenz was capable of finding a way to kill me that looked like an accident. He had already decided that I was a threat to the Rebels, and he might decide that it was better to beg forgiveness than to ask permission about killing me.

  Especially if Nicholas decided my help was more trouble than it was worth.

  I looked at Murdo, and he stared back.

  “I don’t like him very much,” I said at last.

  Chapter 7: A Cold-Blooded Woman

  Nicholas and Morelli returned after lunch, carrying architectural blueprints and diagrams. Murdo departed on some errand or another for the Rebels, and Nicholas spread out the plans and we got to work. I wondered why Morelli was here, and then I remembered he was an expert at security systems and explosives.

  Having seen him use plastic explosives to blast the door off a vault in the ruins of Chicago, I knew that firsthand.

  After about five minutes of looking over the plans, I was impressed.

  “Where did you get all this stuff?” I said. “If these are accurate, they’ll be incredibly helpful.”

  Nicholas smiled. “The Revolution has its sources.”

  “No,” I said. “Tell me. Because we’re risking our lives on this information, and I need to know that it’s accurate.”

  Nicholas tapped his fingers against the table a few times and then nodded. “Very well. The current Bank building in Washington DC was constructed fifty-three years ago after the last one was damaged due to storm-related flooding. The Royal Architects & Construction Company received the contract, designed the building, and built it. As part of the contract, they are on retainer to do any necessary structural maintenance or repairs, and so they keep a set of blueprints on file. There are no Revolution sympathizers in Royal Architects & Construction, but the employees in charge of the archives are not paid very much, and so it was a simple matter for Corbisher to bribe them to look the other way while we made some copies. Satisfied?”

  “No,” I said. “But then you were never good at satisfying me, and you know it.”

  That was a lie. Regrettably.

  Nicholas only smirked and turned his attention to the plans.

  “I see one problem right away,” I said. “The plans reference wardstones in the walls. What kind of wardstones?”

  “Stones inscribed with permanent Seals of Shadows,” said Nicholas. “If this were a normal bank, we could simply shoot our way into the vaults, take w
hat we needed, and open a rift way back to Venomhold and safety. Because of the geometry of the placement of the Seals, no rift ways will open anywhere within the Bank or for about three hundred yards outside of its walls.”

  “Great,” I said.

  “It does pose a challenge,” said Nicholas.

  We gazed at the blueprints in silence for another few moments.

  “There’s a big gap,” I said. “There are no security systems in any of these plans.”

  “Unsurprising,” said Nicholas. “The director of the Bank is Lord Maelaeyar, the Duke of Washington DC himself. Duke Maelaeyar is responsible for the security of the Bank and contracted with the Inquisition itself to set up the building’s security systems. As you can imagine, the Inquisition is rather more stringent with its security than Royal Architects & Construction.”

  “Yeah,” I muttered. I wondered if Arvalaeon had a hand in the Bank’s security. It didn’t seem like the kind of thing he would do.

  “But we can make an educated guess about the security systems,” said Morelli, tapping the plans. “There are ways. You just need to look for the wiring conduits, the ducts, and the gaps left into the concrete. Based on that, we can make a guess on what kind of security the Elves have to guard their treasures.”

  “A guess is better than nothing,” I said.

  Except with this kind of thing, if you guessed wrong, you were dead in a hurry.

  “The point of your reconnaissance,” said Nicholas, “is that we have something better than a guess.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Where’s Vault 19?”

  Morelli produced the appropriate chart. The Bank was a larger underground than it was above, and in the three levels of its basement were something like twelve hundred secure vaults, each one about the size of a rented storage unit. The vaults were even laid out like storage unit facilities, with long corridors marching past rows of metal doors. Fortunately, Vault 19 was in the first basement, and it wasn’t all that far from either the stairs or the elevator.

  “Cameras,” I said, pointing at the lines on the blueprints. “There are definitely conduits and mount points for cameras every few yards in the vault levels. I think every single square inch of the vaults is recorded at all times.”