Magic Ops: An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure (Federal Agents of Magic Book 1)

by TR Cameron

  “You should’ve chosen the Cube, asshole.” She rocketed forward and feinted low. When he flinched to block, she launched upward, snapped her foot out at the perfect moment, and channeled the waiting power into it. The combination of momentum, muscle, and magic struck his chest right of the center line. His ribcage buckled and caved in, and her momentum thrust him back and crushed him between her knee and the wall to maximize the damage. She landed poised and ready to deliver a finishing blow, but he only coughed blood and slumped without a word. His eyes were wide with pain and shock.

  She shook her head. “Threatening people I care about is a bad idea. If you survive, I’m up for round three any day, any time.” Then, she ran for the exit.

  Bryant followed the passage through several twists and turns before it finally ended in a small room with a heavy old door that swung closed as he entered. In front of it stood the wizard who had blasted Rath and he looked furious. The agent emptied his pistol as he closed but the mage waved his wand disdainfully to deflect the bullets.

  “Idiot.” He sneered and twisted the wand to release a strange shimmer at his adversary. It was different than any force or fire attacks Bryant was familiar with and seemed flatter and more solid. His brain finally put the pieces together and decided it was most like the blade of a longsword.

  Bryant dropped in a panic as it swished dangerously above him. The mage laughed, and the agent heard the roar of the fire before his brain could anticipate the follow-up attack.

  “Scield!” A sphere of protection surrounded him in an instant.

  I owe Kienka double for delivering the charm early.

  He had barely managed to attune it in time and had, in fact, only finished the process on the trip to the dinner.

  Fire washed over him but didn’t pierce his protection. He bounced back to his feet in time to register the warning as the wand flicked at him once more. A physical blow shuddered painfully when the shimmer met the edge of his shield and knocked him to the side. He turned it into a roll to avoid another fire blast. Panic lapped at the edges of his mind as the time remaining on the shield—kept by careful count in his head—descended into single digits.

  Rath saved the day. The troll careened into the room as fast as his short legs could carry him. In seconds, he had closed the distance before the man noticed him. His arm was cocked, ready to deliver a vicious blow, and his target flinched and redirected all his power at this new enemy. Rath slid under the fire and followed it with a diving tumble over the blade of force that even the most cranky Olympic judge would have respected. The mage scampered to the side to put some distance between himself and the angry creature.

  Bryant grinned as his shield fell. He primed the sonic grenade, yelled, “Rath!” and threw it at the mage. The troll dropped into a tightly curled heap on the ground and shielded his head with his long arms. The agent’s earpieces reduced the noise in the room to virtual silence as the sonic grenade emitted its activation pulse and detonated.

  Unfortunately, his warning to Rath had also alerted the wizard. He responded and a blast of force intercepted the grenade and bounced it back, resulting in minimal impact to himself and none to Bryant.

  Waste of a good grenade. The agent switched magazines and tried the bullets again, this time to cover Rath’s actions. While the mage blocked the rounds, the troll curved out of his vision and attacked from behind. He vaulted onto the wizard’s back and used his hands to claw at the enemy’s eyes.

  Bryant had to admit the wizard’s reflexes were deceptively quick, given his scholarly demeanor. The man ducked his head and took the scratches on his forehead. Blood flowed, and he screamed in pain or anger or both. He thrust his wand forward, and Bryant braced himself against the impending force blast. Instead, the mage rocketed backward and slammed the troll between himself and the wall. Both fell to the ground, dazed. They recovered simultaneously, and the man drew a runed blade from behind his back and slashed viciously at his adversary. Rath scrambled away, found his feet with a backward somersault, and easily avoided the frantic swipes. The familiar toothy grin looked far more ferocious in his larger form.

  “Enough of this,” Bryant muttered and drew his backup weapon. He sighted carefully and calculated the mage’s path as he stalked toward the troll with the dagger raised. Aiming for a headshot was purely reflex, and the agent shifted the barrel down at the momentary thought that a prisoner might prove valuable. He pulled the trigger twice. The mage reacted immediately to the gun’s soft bark and threw up a shield in an awkward cross-body movement. The anti-magic bullets sliced through the barrier and pounded into his leg at knee and thigh. He screamed and fell.

  Rath attacked and delivered a boxing combination that looked suspiciously like something Rocky had used against Ivan Drago. He stood over the downed mage and grinned.

  Bryant shook his head and retrieved some zip ties from his back pocket. “Tie him up, Rath. I’ll go after the ambassador.”

  The troll nodded and caught them out of the air. “Bryant. Rath. Diana. Team.”

  “You got it, big guy.” He re-holstered the Ruger and grabbed his Glock, ejected his part-empty magazine, and swapped it with his last full one, then opened the heavy door. Beyond was a dusty tunnel with two sets of footprints in the dirt. It was only as he pounded along the passageway that the image of the ambassador floating from the room entered his mind.

  Reinforcements. Shit.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Diana burst into a smallish room in time to see Bryant vanish around a corner in the dimly lit corridor ahead. She skidded to a stop at the sight of Rath applying zip ties to a crumpled wizard. His three-foot size was still a surprise every time she saw it, accustomed as she was to his normal stature. “Is Bryant okay?”

  The troll nodded. “Bryant and Rath strong. Stupid wizard weak.”

  “Excellent. I’ll go after him. Oh, wait.” She fished around in her front pockets, withdrew Rath’s batons, and threw them, and he caught them with a grin. He flicked one open and poked the figure on the ground before him, then laughed at the resulting snap and sizzle. The smell of ozone wafted through the room.

  He looked at her with a wicked grin. “Had to test.”

  Diana shook her head. “Of course. You can’t go into battle with a weapon you don’t trust. Catch up when you’re done.” She drew her pistol, bolted into the corridor, and activated her comm. “Bryant?” There was no reply. Even the subtle carrier sound of an empty channel seemed to be missing. She took the turns and curves of the passage at breakneck speed on the assumption that he would have identified any traps along the way or enemies lying in wait. After a few moments, she caught up in time to see him peek around the corner before he entered a wider space.

  Angry voices echoed, but she was too focused on running to make sense of them. She lurched into the room to find Bryant with his pistol aimed at the enemy closest to the ambassador and an outstretched hand directed at the room’s other occupant.

  The agent sounded smug. “What was that you said about two on one?”

  The dwarf who stood beside the ambassador swiveled to target Diana. Arrogance dripped from his words. “No matter. You’re both human and easily defeated.”

  She aimed her gun at him and snaked the other hand behind her back to palm her pepper grenade. “That’s what the other two thought. It didn’t work out too well for them.”

  The wand-wielder in the far corner barked a laugh. He was of normal height but ugly. It looked like someone had stood on his face and pushed it inward. “Disposable soldiers. Their skills are much less than ours.”

  Bryant shook his head. “If you try to leave, you’re dead. If you don’t, our reinforcements will be here in short order. You’re stuck. How about you put your weapons down? Nobody has to die here today.”

  The dwarf gave him a thin smile. “Failure is death, human.”

  Time slowed and Diana moved. She threw the pepper grenade at the wizard across the room, not trusting the ambassador’s ability to
breathe while trapped in the massive tentacles that encased him. The dwarf summoned a bolt of darkness that raced toward her even in her adjusted vision. She pivoted back on her right foot, knowing she couldn’t dodge all of it but hoping to at least evade some. Her gun barked, and with his attention focused on the ambassador and the attack, his hasty shield activated too late. A bullet caught him in the right upper arm, and he cowered and raised his left hand instinctively to cover the wound. She caught the glint of metal. Does everyone but me have one of those stupid bracelets? The tentacles began to uncoil, and she had a brief moment in which to enjoy her success before the shadow bolt pounded into her.

  Four loud pops erupted as the anti-magic deflectors on her vest were consumed. Each felt like a jab from a skilled boxer and she stumbled in the direction of her pivot. She spun to the ground with a cry of surprise and pain. Her magical perception fell, and Rath moved at real speed when he bounded over her prone form on his way to the foe who had attacked her.

  Across the room, Bryant fired bullets one at a time to keep his opponent pinned in place. The wizard extended his arm and yelled a command, and lightning flared from his wand. One multi-forked blast burst into Bryant, dropped him to one knee, and turned the deflectors on his vest black. Another caught Diana. The icy needles stabbed at every nerve and pinned her to the ground as she rolled onto her arched back with a shout, this one more of rage than pain.

  She heard the pepper grenade detonate and the lightning fell away. Rath flung himself at the dwarf, who now wore a look of absolute fury. He made a scooping motion, and the troll was lifted and thrown to the far side of the room. He managed to position his legs and landed in a skid, then seemingly realized for the first time that a second enemy was present.

  One that coughed and gagged from the pepper spray.

  One that was only a few feet away.

  With a loud bellow, the troll hurtled at the wizard and smacked his forehead into his target’s nose. An echoing crunch confirmed the effectiveness of the strategy.

  She heard chanting as she pushed herself to her feet. The dwarf opened a portal behind the ambassador, who swayed senselessly although now tentacle-free. Bryant shouted a word she didn’t recognize, and the opening collapsed on itself. He cried out, and she turned to see him grip his collarbone.

  The dwarf snarled defiance. “There will be another time, humans. Count on it.” He fled down the corridor and Diana stumbled after him, firing with each step.

  Her bullets sparked off a vibrant shimmer that encased him, and she cursed. Her gun clicked empty, and she resisted the urge to throw it at him. She closed the distance as her gait steadied, his shorter legs no match for her enraged sprint. There was an intersection ahead, and she saw him pass the opening to the left and continue. She put her head down and added a burst of speed.

  The blast of force that struck as she crossed the intersection careened her into the wall and pinned her off the ground. Her gun fell from numb fingers to clatter on the cement floor. The figure ahead had vanished, and she fought to turn her head to the left against the giant hand that now crushed her. The dwarf stood there, smirking, in the center of what appeared to be a library. His right hand was extended toward her, and his left pointed at the floor. Tendrils emerged from it and slithered toward her like snakes. She noted, far too late, that the bracelet on her wrist had been icy cold and now faded to normal.

  He twisted his right hand into a fist, and the force pushed harder to grind her shoulder blade against the wall. She snarled at her own stupidity. An answering growl echoed from the direction from which she’d come and she knew Rath was on his way.

  I only have to hold out.

  The dwarf couldn’t resist taunting her as the first tentacle encircled her calves. “We should have plenty of time to make it out of here before your friends find their path through my illusions. Once the tentacles have you, we will retire to a place where we can spend many an hour getting to know one another very well indeed.”

  “Let me go and I’ll show you everything you need to know about me, asshole.” She panted against the pain. He laughed, and the tentacles climbed higher. Diana tried to summon a clever comment, but he increased the pressure and a scream of rage emerged in its place.

  Rather than overwhelm her senses and force her to fight for control, the surge of emotion did something unexpected. Suddenly, she sensed the edges of the spell that held her. She imagined the cone that emanated from his hand and the steady pulses that ran through it to press her against the wall. It materialized in her vision exactly like another augmented reality overlay. A familiar pressure pushed inside, the same one she unthinkingly blocked by well-practiced reflex whenever it occurred. Her inner voice suggested that since she was about to die—or about to be taken away for the extended torment of being in the pretentious scumbag’s presence—maybe it was time to quit fighting herself so hard.

  Frustration marshaled against the suggestion immediately, and she realized with a shock of insight that her instinctive defense wasn’t all strength as she had believed it to be. For the first time, she saw the fear woven through it, cleverly disguised and subtle in its influence. That fear had been part of her since the first time her magic power erupted and blasted apart a toy that had vexed her seven-year-old self—and the table it sat upon.

  That same fear had lain mostly dormant as long as she stayed away from magic. When the squad was attacked in Atlanta—when she was attacked in Atlanta—it rose in secret and masqueraded as rationality to convince her once again to squash her inner power for fear that she would lose control of it.

  You’ve seen what magic can do, it had whispered then.

  All that self-analysis passed in a flash. With an act of will greater than any she remembered and fueled by her anger at the self-deception, she released the mental doors on her mind that she’d strained to hold closed. The magic exploded from her and traveled the channel the dwarf had created between them. He shrieked as the backlash of raw power fueled by Diana’s fear, anger, and self-loathing shattered his hand.

  Diana fell to the ground and stretched her arm out to summon another force blast to end the fight.

  It failed to materialize.

  Shit. So much for control.

  She extended her other hand and pictured his feet flying out from under him, then yanked it toward her. The telekinesis still worked, and he fell hard on his back. She tried to rise but stumbled. Her legs were too weak to stand. He rolled and scrambled to his feet, raised his functional hand with a scream, and snapped it forward. She saw the ball of energy rocket toward her and knew there was no chance she could get out of its way.

  Fortunately, she didn’t have to. Rath jumped in front of her and absorbed the blow, crouched as he weathered the blast, then straightened with a yell. He erupted in a blur of motion and smashed at his attacker with his batons. Sharp cracks punctuated the blows that he rained on the dwarf’s legs and arms. The Oriceran managed another weak blast as he fell, which sent the troll into a violent head-over-heels tumble to slide into the wall beside her.

  The dwarf’s mouth was bloody, and a shard of bone protruded from the arm above his ruined hand. He coughed, and it sounded like something was broken inside him. “At least I’ll have the satisfaction of taking you with me.” The air surrounding him glimmered. The pressure in the room increased, accompanied by a buzzing that grew in volume with each passing second. Diana couldn’t stand, so she did the only thing she could think to do. She flopped onto her stomach, drew the Ruger, and extended it ahead of her. Contact with the floor helped to steady her trembling hands. She squeezed the trigger six times and anti-magic bullets struck the dwarf again and again. As he jerked and writhed with each impact, the noise and pressure continued to build.

  She looked at Rath, and her inner floodgates opened, filled with regret they wouldn’t have more time together and vicious anger at the mage who had stolen it from them.

  No, not only anger.

  Raw, primal fury.

 
; Diana fell into it, snatched handfuls of the molten emotion, and bound it into a shell around her. Her last conscious effort was to use the final physical energy she possessed to throw herself forward and curl around Rath.

  The dwarf’s death spell detonated and shattered the stone walls of the room to spray shrapnel in all directions. The furniture instantly splintered, and they were caught in the maelstrom of whirling destruction that decimated everything it touched.

  Fortunately, it couldn’t reach either Diana or Rath. A bubble of translucent ruby force surrounded them and resisted the onslaught. Finally, the tornado died as suddenly as it had started. Diana’s rage abandoned her, and the shield dropped.

  Rath looked at her with a joyful grin. “Diana. Fighting mode. Is good.”

  When Bryant finally reached the room, he was stunned by the destruction and shocked at the damage the dwarf had taken. The most alarming thing of all, though, was the sight of Diana and Rath lying on their backs, twisting and writhing in spasms of uncontrolled laughter while shredded book pages floated around the room like snow.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Bryant braced himself for the impending noise. Taggart squeezed the trigger smoothly six times and emptied his backup Ruger into the humanoid target at the end of the pistol range. Even through the earplugs, the gun’s reports were startling in the small space at the back of Ems’ domain.

  The bullets had made two tight groupings, three in center mass and three in the forehead. The men removed their hearing protectors. “Nice shooting, boss.”