Cloak Games: Hammer Break

by Jonathan Moeller

  “The door to the stairs and the elevator have space for security systems as well,” said Morelli. “At a start, it looks like Bank employees need to use keycards to access either the stairwell or the elevator. All access is therefore recorded, and the elevator and stairs have camera coverage.”

  “What about the vault doors?” I said. “You know more about them than I do.”

  “More conduit under the floor,” said Morelli. “Almost certainly every vault door is wired with an alarm.”

  “Any lethal alarms?” I said.

  Morelli hesitated. “Mmm…probably not.”

  “Probably,” I said. “I don’t like that.”

  “Any lethal defenses in the Bank’s vaults,” said Nicholas, “are almost certainly magical in nature.”

  Great.

  “Okay,” I said. “Honestly, I think my best bet is to keep this as simple as possible. I don’t dare use a Masking spell in the Bank. Any Elf who comes close enough will sense it. I’ll just Cloak near the door, wait until someone goes downstairs, and follow them to the Vaults. I’ll have a look around and then follow an employee back upstairs. Then I’ll get the hell out of there, and I can come back here to plan the next step.”

  Morelli grunted. “Waiting for an employee to access the vaults is a bad idea. There might not be anyone wishing to access the vaults that day.”

  “We may be able to take a more direct hand with that,” said Nicholas. “One of Corbisher’s businesses has a deposit box at the Royal Bank.”

  I frowned. “How does Corbisher have any businesses left at all? Both the Inquisition and Homeland Security want his head.”

  “Really, Kat,” said Nicholas. “Don’t be naïve. Corbisher was a politician, and he conducted a great deal of his business under the table. He retains a controlling interest in several companies via false identities and shell corporations. Eventually, the Inquisition will track them all down, but they have numerous other concerns just now. Anyway, we will send you with some papers to secure in the deposit box. A Bank employee will collect the papers, and place them in the vault. You can then Cloak and follow the employee to the vaults, and then come back up again.”

  “All right,” I said with a frown. The plan made sense. And if it went wrong, if I was captured or killed, Nicholas would lose nothing. He could regroup and try something else.

  “We’ll send you in two cars, I think,” said Nicholas. “You and Murdo in one, Swathe and Morelli in another. False ID cards will be easy enough to prepare by tomorrow.”

  “We’ll need them,” said Morelli. “The guards at the front door do an ID and weapons check.”

  “Will I be able to get a camera inside?” I said. “I want an earpiece like I used in Chicago, something that will capture video and store it on a phone. I might not have the time to examine things properly.”

  “It shouldn’t be a problem,” said Morelli. “They will wand us down at the doors for weapons and explosives, but simple electronics shouldn’t pose a challenge.” He peered at the side of my head. “Are your ears pierced?”

  “Yep.”

  Morelli nodded. “We have a set of earrings with a concealed camera.”

  I grimaced. “I suppose they’re big and ugly and chrome.”

  “Actually, they’re quite tasteful,” said Morelli. “To the naked eye, they appear to be set with 12-carat diamonds.”

  Both Nicholas and I stared at him in surprise.

  Morelli remained unruffled. “When I was still with the Men of Honor, one of my duties included handling the import of recently acquired diamonds.” That was a polite way of saying he handled diamond smuggling and theft for the mafia.

  “Very good,” said Nicholas. “We have a plan. I will instruct Corbisher to prepare the appropriate documents, and to give you the account information.” He rose. “If there’s nothing else…”

  “There is,” I said.

  Nicholas waited, his eyebrows raised.

  “Why does Murdo obey you?” I said.

  “Ah,” said Nicholas. “I’ll need a moment alone with Miss Stoker, Enzo.”

  Morelli nodded, collected the blueprints, and departed.

  I looked up at Nicholas. It felt strange to be alone with him, both strange and unpleasant. He was the only man I had ever slept with, and it had ended badly. I no longer felt any affection or physical attraction for him, but I regarded him with a mixture of loathing and respect. He was brilliant, though he had no conscience whatsoever and used people the way most people used paper towels. He was as smart as I was.

  Smarter, if I was honest.

  “So,” I said. “Are you going to answer the question?”

  “Why do you ask?” said Nicholas.

  “Answering a question with another question doesn’t answer the first question.”

  Nicholas smiled. “I can guess. Murdo seems so…so very knightly, doesn’t he? The paragon of a soldier, one of the High Queen’s elite. His disdain for me personally is obvious, as is his disdain for my methods. He’s so squeamish. He wants to be a good soldier, but he doesn’t have the stomach to do what is necessary to make a better world.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “He won’t blow up a soccer stadium or poison a doctor when she has a flicker of conscience. What a jerk.”

  Nicholas’s smile was thin. “We’re at war, Kat, and it’s a war that the Elves started. Any tactic is legitimate in a struggle to the death.”

  “Like murdering children?” I said.

  “The children of collaborators,” said Nicholas, “are entirely fair game. Perhaps the pain of their loss will make their parents wake up and realize that they’ve chosen the wrong side.”

  God, I hated that man.

  Nicholas leaned forward a little. “You see, Kat, we’re at war. There are the Elves and the High Queen, and there is the Revolution. There’s no such thing as remaining neutral in a war like this. Either you’re on the side of the Revolution and victory…or you’re a collaborator of the Elves. The veteran man-at-arms who pays his taxes, goes to work, drives his children to school, and takes his wife out to dinner once a week? He’s part of the system of oppression we are fighting against. Which means he is as much of a legitimate target as the High Queen herself.”

  “And his wife and kids?” I said.

  “Yes.”

  We glared at each other for a while.

  “Gosh, what an inspiring speech,” I said. “Is that how you got Murdo on your team? Join the Revolution and shoot kids?”

  Nicholas laughed. “You are persistent. Very well. If you must know, Murdo murdered his commanding officer in the Legion and made it look like an accident. It was the sort of murder that would warm your heart, Kat. His commanding officer had a habit of forcing his attention on teenage girls, and the Elves looked the other way because he was so useful. Murdo caught him in the act, shot him in the head, and made it look like a suicide. But there was video…”

  “Ah,” I said. “And if the video comes out, Murdo gets in trouble. No. I doubt he’d care. No, if the video comes out, his family gets in trouble. And you’ve got the video.”

  “Just so,” said Nicholas. “Men who think themselves honorable are so very easy to control.”

  It made sense. I had seen Murdo fight, and he was the sort of fighter Nicholas would want to recruit. And if Nicholas could ruin Murdo’s family, it was the lever that would compel Murdo’s obedience.

  Which meant if I could get my hands on that video file, or if I could find a way to protect Murdo’s family…then I would have my own ally against Nicholas.

  Assuming Nick was telling the truth, of course.

  I jumped to my feet and was amused to see Nicholas take a cautious step back.

  “Great story,” I said. “Tomorrow’s going to suck, so I’m going to get some sleep.”

  Nicholas inclined his head. “We have a room for you on the third floor. Along with a selection of clothing for tomorrow.” He smiled. “Given that you were pregnant only two years ago, it is surpr
ising that your sizes haven’t changed at all.”

  “What can I say? I like to exercise after eating potato chips on the couch,” I said, turning towards the door.

  “Kat.”

  I looked back at him. “What?”

  “You will have to choose a side,” said Nicholas. “You like to think you can keep to yourself and your family, but you will have to choose. Right now, you’ve chosen the side of the Elves. But it’s not too late to choose the Revolution. Because if you’re still on the side of the Elves when our deal is done, I will kill you.”

  There was no bravado, no boasting. Just a simple statement of fact.

  His eyes were as cold as I felt.

  I walked away without another word.

  About an hour later I sat on the bed in my room on the top floor.

  It was a grim-looking place, all concrete floor and walls and steel beams in the ceiling, but it was clean and reasonably warm, and it had a private bathroom. There weren’t even any cameras, and I had checked thoroughly. A couple of plastic storage containers held a variety of women’s formal clothing, all in my size. I would need to pick an outfit for tomorrow since people dressed up to visit the Royal Bank.

  I was hungry, but I didn’t feel like finding anything to eat. What I really wanted to do was to exercise to exhaustion, take a dangerously hot bath, and then pass out. But I didn’t dare lower my guard here. That was why Nicholas had sent Murdo to pick me up. He didn’t want me disappearing at will and making trouble for him the way I had during the Chicago operation. I was in a building full of people who wanted to kill me, who had tried to kill me in several cases, and that made me…

  I knew ought to stand up, eat something, do something.

  But I was frightened and exhausted. Listening to Nicholas describe how he was comfortable killing children had left me feeling sick and weary.

  I had just run out of steam, or fighting spirit, or whatever you call it.

  I guess I was depressed. And I was so, so tired. I was tired of the century and a half of horrible memories in my head. I was tired of running, tired of hiding, tired of fighting. I was tired of keeping my guard up around people like Nicholas and Corbisher and Hailey and Lorenz. I was so tired of being alone all the time. A year ago (or a hundred and fifty-nine years ago), I had seen my brother several times a week, and I had a boyfriend I loved. I mean, my life hadn’t been great, but it could have been worse.

  And now it was worse. I was surrounded by murderous enemies, and I was helping Nicholas to find that Sky Hammer thing.

  I sat with my head in my hands for a while, trying to think of what to do.

  And I have to admit that for the first time in my life, I thought about killing myself.

  Yeah. I might have been depressed.

  I didn’t seriously consider it because if I did then Russell would die when Morvilind stopped his cure spells. But for the first time in my life, I started to see the appeal of the idea. I was trapped, and this was either going to end when I was killed, or Nicholas killed me…

  No. I couldn’t think like that. For Russell’s sake, I had to keep going.

  So, instead, I did something else I had never seriously done before.

  I prayed.

  Lucy and James Marney had done their damnedest to make a regular churchgoer of me, but it hadn’t taken. For one thing, I tended toward the antisocial and didn’t like talking to strangers. For another, it wasn’t that I didn’t believe in God, more that I was mad at God. Like, if God was good, why was everything so messed up in the world? Why were we ruled by the High Queen? Why did people like Nicholas seem to get away with everything they did?

  Why had Russell’s frostfever blighted both his life and mine?

  “If you’re listening,” I muttered. “I could use some help. Any help. Anything at all.”

  It was silent in the room.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Whatever.”

  I lay down and drifted off to sleep.

  I awoke about four hours later in the dark. No one had tried to kill me, which was good, but I was so hungry that my stomach felt like it was trying to rip its way through my skin. Murdo and I had passed a gas station on our way here, and I thought it was a mile away. I suppose walking alone at night in an industrial area of Washington DC wasn’t a great idea, but anyone who tried to rob me would regret it.

  I opened the door and froze in surprise.

  Murdo stood outside the door, his hand raised to knock.

  “How did you know I was there?” he said.

  I had no idea that he had been there.

  “Magic,” I said. “What do you want?”

  Murdo hesitated. “I need to talk to you for a moment.”

  “Why?” I said.

  “I think I can help you with something.”

  I frowned and stared at him. His rough-featured face was solemn. He was armed, of course, and he had his magic, but if this was some sort of trap or game, it was a good one.

  “All right,” I said. “Come on in.”

  I stepped back, flipped the light on, and stood by the window with my arms folded. The fluorescent lights sputtered a bit before they stayed on.

  “So,” I said, “what’s this about? If you’re trying to ask me out, this is a really weird way to do it.”

  He smiled a little. “Is there anything about this situation that isn’t weird?”

  “Fair point,” I said. I hesitated. “Then you are trying to hit on me? That’s a bad idea. I should warn you…”

  Murdo spread his hands. “If it will put your mind at ease, I’m not going to sleep with you or anyone else tonight, or for the foreseeable future. I think I am confident when I say that you’re not going to sleep with anyone, either.”

  I was surprised that I was a little disappointed. I mean, I barely knew him, but I was attracted to him. I hadn’t slept with anyone in my life except Nicholas. I hadn’t even gotten to sleep with Riordan before I had broken up with…

  The disappointment just turned to sadness.

  “Okay,” I said. “Just say what you want.”

  Murdo nodded. “I know why you’re cold all the time.”

  I blinked. “Who says I’m cold all the time?”

  “During our drive here,” said Murdo, “you kept turning the SUV’s heater up to maximum while wearing a heavy sweater and a heavy coat. And I didn’t see you sweat, not once.”

  “Maybe I’m just cold,” I said. “Or sick.” But I was curious. I had been cold all the time ever since I had escaped the Eternity Crucible and killed Castomyr. I had never been able to figure out why.

  “It’s a kind of post-traumatic stress disorder,” said Murdo.

  “I thought that was just flashbacks, nightmares, irritability, sleeplessness, that kind of thing,” I said. All of which I had.

  “It’s a type of post-traumatic stress disorder that only affects magic users,” said Murdo. “You’re constantly holding your magical power clenched and ready to fight, even if you’re not entirely conscious of it. The gathered magical energy keeps sucking away at your body heat.”

  I opened my mouth to say that was ridiculous.

  Except…it really wasn’t, was it? I was always on my guard. I sometimes saw anthrophages and wraithwolves lurking in every shadow. I couldn’t relax, not ever. The only time I ever managed to get my guard down was by exercising to exhaustion and then getting dehydrated and woozy in the bath.

  “You did say,” said Murdo in a quiet voice, “that something bad had happened to you.”

  “Yeah,” I said, not looking at him.

  “And I know what I’m talking about,” said Murdo, “because I used to have the same problem.”

  “You did?” I said. I wondered if this was a trap or a game of some kind. It was the perfect con, right? Make friends, express sympathy, all while holding a knife behind the back? Yet I was curious. And…it would have been nice to talk to someone who understood.

  And I was so damned tired of being cold all the time.
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br />   “My first year in the Legion,” said Murdo. “I had a friend who came through the Royal War College with me. The first time we went into the Shadowlands, we were attacked by cowlspawn. One of their tentacles closed around his neck and ripped his head off.” He shook his own head. “I killed the cowlspawn, but I couldn’t save my friend. After that…after that, I couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t sit still. Couldn’t relax. I held my power clenched all the time, and I was freezing.”

  “How did you deal with it?” I said. “Being cold all the time, I mean.”

  “There is a mental technique,” said Murdo. “It’s…not that different from casting a spell, to be honest. I can show you how.”

  “Why?” I said. “Why would you help me like that? What do you want in return?”

  We looked at each other in silence for a moment.

  “I don’t want anything in return,” said Murdo, “and I’m helping you because you seem so profoundly miserable. But…unlike everyone else here, I don’t think you deserve it.”

  “So, you deserve to be miserable?”

  Again, we lapsed into silence.

  “I’ve made a lot of mistakes,” said Murdo, “and I deserve worse than I’ve gotten.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ve made a lot of mistakes, too,” I said. “How else do you think I wound up in this mess?”

  “Maybe,” said Murdo. “But I still think you deserve better than the hand you’ve been dealt.”

  For some reason, I laughed. “Fine. All right. I’ll give it a try. What do I need to do?”

  “First,” said Murdo, “close your eyes.”

  I frowned. “If this is so you can cop a feel, it’s not going to go well.”

  Murdo snorted. “I saw what you did to Lorenz. I’m not going to touch you. Close your eyes.”

  I sighed and closed my eyes.

  “Okay,” I said. “Now what?”

  “Whoever your Elven noblewoman is,” said Murdo. “Did she teach you the basics of clearing your mind in preparation for working magic?”

  “She did,” I said. I had learned a lot of mental disciplines from Morvilind since magic was driven by thought and will. I focused my will and cleared my mind, emptying it of thought and emotion. I felt all my worries and fears…well, they didn’t quite go away, but they were no longer the center of my attention. “All right.”