Unholy Heist (Lucifer Case Files Book 5)

by Thomas Green

  Amaranta’s phone buzzed. She waited for Katherine and Zhang to be looking away, and then took out her phone from her handbag. She had a new message from Lucas: ‘Go to the local black market and get something that quickly repairs shot-through bones and a high capacity teleportation matrix with a path-memory function. Use my credit card.’

  Truth, everything. She smiled and put the phone back. Finally, she had something to do. “I will go scout the area,” Amaranta shouted after Zhang and Katherine. Without waiting for a reply, she turned into lightning and bolted into the sky.

  Amaranta followed the lightning with her spiritual form and looked down on the city. Even from up here in the clouds, she could see the ground in perfect detail. She spotted a good place in a side alley and streaked down, reforming next to a large trash container.

  Technically speaking, she wasn’t supposed to be doing Lucifer’s bidding, but screw that. When she was in the Vatican Inquisition, she went through one mission after another. During her seventeen years of service, she averaged eighteen missions per year.

  And then, she became an angel. Since angels required five years of experience to be assigned to a special investigation or strike team, she was assigned a territory she was supposed to guard. She got the entire East Coast.

  At first, she was ecstatic. Such a huge territory had to have a lot of opportunities for her to turn the place for the better, many monsters to slay, hundreds of mysteries to be solved. Even the Devil herself had her USA headquarters in her territory.

  She had never been so wrong.

  East Coast was Katherine’s territory, and she kept the entire area spotless clean. Sure, there were a few stray monsters, a couple of rogue warlocks, and a not-yet-destroyed demon gate, but Amaranta cleaned all of those up in the first two weeks of her assignment.

  And the Devil has been fully committed to financial crime. While stock market manipulation, multi-level marketing schemes, commodity price manipulation and insider trading were vile on their own, they weren’t something over which she could go stabbing people with a spear. Especially since Lucielle’s top servants in the US were essentially two groups – Ivy league graduates making a career on Wall Street, and Lucas, the attack dog that made sure no large crisis happened, so both the stock market and the real estate market remained high.

  When she thought about it, the best way to spoil the Devil’s plans would be to lobby the government for stricter stock market regulations. But Amaranta was a warrior, not a politician.

  In summary, for the past fourteen months, she had nothing to do aside from leading sermons, signing bibles, and smiling at everyone.

  She tried to apply for another territory, some place where she could make a difference like anywhere in Africa, but she got denied every time.

  Amaranta refocused on reality as she still stood in the side alley. First, she needed some clothes that weren’t as noticeable as a blue dress. She entered the connected street and walked forward, looking for a clothing store.

  After earning a few dozen curious stares from people passing by her, she found one, and entered. With a glance, she confirmed they had the terminal for credit cards.

  Ten minutes later, she was leaving the store dressed in jeans, t-shirt, hoodie, and with her dress bagged in a satchel. She couldn’t understand a word of what the shopkeeper was saying but waving around Lucas’s platinum credit card did the trick.

  Okay, time to find the black market. Once in her life had she visited such a place. Back then, she arrested over thirty people and closed down the entire area.

  But that was when she was still a common human, back when she wasn’t too precious for common agent work. The thought made bile rise into her throat.

  Amaranta returned to the side alley, looked up at a lamp, turned into lightning, and bolted into the electric grid. She had no idea how to find a supernatural black market. But with traveling speed of lightning, some two-hundred and twenty million miles per hour, and with her senses fully functioning at that speed, she could literally look everywhere.

  And that she did. A few minutes later, she was looking through a lamp in an underground complex that looked like it still existed in the ancient times. Ornate shrines were everywhere, inlaid with gold and jade, and the people who coursed among them wore traditional clothes of ancient China.

  If Secret Societies loved something, it was tradition, so this had to be the place. She moved through the electric lines until she found a socket in an empty shrine and materialized there.

  Amaranta left the room and walked out. No, she wasn’t going to fit in wearing a hoodie, but neither would she fit in wearing a modern dress. And the hoodie was at least comfortable.

  With a casual smile, she walked onto the stone-crafted street. Everyone stared at her, whispers passing around. From one building, two men dressed in ancient-Chinese-style armor rushed to her from a larger temple.

  She waved with her hand in a friendly greeting. “Hi.”

  “How did you get here?” one of them shouted, immediately followed by, “You aren’t supposed to be here,” from the other one.

  Truth; partial truth. So, there was a scenario under which she could be here. She waited for them to come close so she wouldn’t have to shout. “Li Wei Zhang sent me to buy him something, so I followed his instructions on how to get here,” she said. No, angels weren’t supposed to lie, but that was more of a guideline rather than a rule and her patron, the only being that actually mattered, never cared.

  “Why would he send you?” Untraditionally, the man reached toward a high-caliber pistol hidden behind the thick belt. He placed his palm on the grip but did not draw.

  “Because his casino got attacked, apparently due to insider information. I saved him, so he entrusted me with this.” Amaranta kept her voice steady, controlled, but she started feeling dirty. She could lie, sure, but she didn’t like it. But what was she supposed to do?

  They stared at her for a moment. “What are you here to buy?”

  Now, that sounded better. Zhang was a rather high-ranked Secret Societies’ member, so potential conflict with him apparently wasn’t worth the trouble of getting her out of here. “Something to heal bone damage, and a high-capacity teleportation matrix with a path-memory function. Do you know where I could get one of those?”

  They glanced at each other, and then back at her. “A what?”

  Truth. She also didn’t know what that was. “Could you take me to someone a bit higher ranked?”

  They walked to her sides, as if to catch her hands. But they didn’t touch her, saying, “You will need to come with us.”

  False. Amaranta interpreted that as them agreeing, and thus nodded. They motioned forward and she followed, slipping from the whispering crowd that had gathered around them.

  They led her by the large temple, which had carvings of dragons all over the most visible surfaces. Dragons, she wondered how many still existed. The Church evidenced six dragons living in its lands underneath a human disguise. But Linn, the member of the Hand of God who effectively ruled China, was rumored to be one, and she was sure to have surrounded herself with more of her kin.

  They entered another temple devoted to dragons. Here, the dragons were all painted with red color, so this was probably a fire dragon shrine. She examined the paintings as they passed through the main hall. They depicted a dragon living in a volcano, flying around, fighting a woman in a white, witch-like garment, and the dragon turning to dust. Then an asteroid, apocalypse, and then the rebirth of that dragon in the hands of a woman dressed in green.

  She eyed the guards but doubted they would stop to give her an explanation. They exited the main hall through the opposite end and walked up the stairs to reach a wide door with a symbol of a red dragon head breathing golden fire.

  The guards stood by the sides. “The director will speak with you.”

  Truth. She shrugged, knocked, opened the door, and slid through. Beyond lay an office, fashioned in the same, ancient style, but with a ma
n in a modern suit sitting behind a large monitor. The traditional garment hung on the wall near him.

  He aimed a curious glance at her. “The winds seem to have brought an interesting guest.”

  False. He did not find her interesting. She peered at the middle aged man with long hair tied into a ponytail, face weathered. “Hi, I’m Amaranta.”

  “I am Shi Kul Shaan.” He motioned at a chair across the table. “Please, take a seat.”

  Truth. She did, smiling pleasantly. “So, I need to buy a few things, and I’m not here to make trouble.”

  “As you have not made trouble at the casino?”

  “I had nothing to do with that.” She raised her chin. “If anything, I helped to resolve the problem.”

  “And I suppose that if you find yourself unable to purchase what you seek; you will also resolve that.”

  Truth. She sighed. “Look, I have the money, and I need only two things, so this really doesn’t have to be a problem.”

  “That is rather difficult to believe, given your reputation.” He turned the monitor so she could see the screen. On it was her Hand of God file with her face, full name, even the Lightning of God title.

  Truth. The wonders of facial recognition. “Well, you’ve found my file. Good job. Should I look up yours?”

  His face turned into a cold glare. “How did you enter this place?”

  “Through the power lines. But the local defenses are pitiful at best, so worry about those first.” She relaxed on the chair, chin still high. “Though I’m off duty right now, so I’m not here to bust you for smuggling of illegal goods or drugs or whatever else you smuggle around here.”

  “Are you blackmailing me?”

  “Not yet.” She smiled pleasantly.

  The door opened and Sun Wukong entered, eyes sleepy and suit unarranged. He glanced at both of them, covered his yawn with his palm, and sat on the side of Shaan’s table. “Got a coffee machine somewhere?” he asked Shaan in fluent English.

  Both Amaranta and Shaan stared at him like at a specter. He looked like he just woke up, so he had to be sleeping somewhere in the underground complex.

  “What do you want here, Wukong?” Shaan asked, features cold, but voice heated.

  “Right now, a large cappuccino with four sugars.” Wukong flashed a grin. “But generally, I’m here to make sure you two don’t kill each other.”

  Truth; false. “And that we don’t damage Linn’s property,” she pointed out.

  He waved off the line with his hand. “I couldn’t care less about that. But really—” he looked over the office. “I don’t see a coffee machine here, so I guess we need to go elsewhere. Come Amaranta, I will allow you to treat me to a coffee.”

  Truth, all of it. And she didn’t want to go. She wanted to deal with Shaan herself. The last thing she desired was for this to be resolved through Lucas’s prison buddy. But she also wasn’t in the position to refuse since, unlike Shaan, Wukong was high enough in Secret Societies for her to have heard about him. “Yes, I would love that.” She rose.

  “I am not finished with her,” Shaan said, almost shouting.

  “You are now.” Wukong motioned toward the door and then led the way.

  Both truths. Amaranta followed him. Her stomach churned as she did, but what else could she do?

  They left the office, passed by the now-sweating guards, and returned to the temple hall.

  She motioned at the paintings on the walls. “What is this about?”

  “Most men like to talk about their tale. Some even write it down. Shaan, well—” Wukong chuckled shortly. “—he painted his to display at his temple.”

  Truth. She shook her head. This wasn’t how she imagined her first chat with an ancient dragon would go. “And yet you bully him around.”

  “I am but a humble servant of the Empress of Heavens.” Wukong flashed a smile as they exited the temple. “So, what do you seek in this market?”

  She didn’t want to tell him. But she wasn’t going to get anything if she kept her mouth shut, so she sighed, and said, “Something to repair bones and a high-capacity teleportation matrix with a path-memory function… whatever that is.”

  “I have both. What do you offer?”

  Truth, again. And he wasn’t going to help her get the items from anyone else. “Got Lucas’s credit card.”

  “Her Divine Grace pays me seven figures, so I have little use for money. But a man can never have enough favors. The tincture is barely worth talking about, but the matrix isn’t cheap. You will owe me a large favor in exchange for me giving it to you.”

  She raised her chin. “I won’t be able to do anything my vows forbid.”

  “Which is pretty much only murder.” He grinned. “Given the St. John’s incident left you without any real punishment.”

  Truth. She stared at him, mouth gaping. “How do you know about that?”

  “Her Holiness has granted me the role of the head of her intelligence. It is my job to know.”

  Truth. As the disbelief faded, her face turned dark red. She didn’t think anyone outside of the Church would find about her doing that, but if it reached China, then everyone knew. For the first time, she regretted doing it.

  “But don’t worry. I won’t ask for anything immoral.”

  Truth. And actually, that sounded exciting. Sure, she wasn’t supposed to hand out favors to anyone, ever, but trading favors with Wukong was going to be a lot more exciting than holding religious seminars. “First, tell me what exactly the teleportation matrix does.”

  “As the name suggests, it allows the user to teleport. The high-capacity is pretty much the size of the aether battery it has, so the teleportation can cover a large combination of the number of people and distance. The more people, the lower the distance can be, and vice versa.”

  Truth. “And the path memory means one can store into it a set of coordinates, through which the matrix should teleport to avoid teleportation-blocking walls and stuff like that,” she added.

  “Precisely.”

  The perfect instant-escape item for breaking into Lucielle’s vault. She was not letting Lucas hold onto it.

  Lucas 10

  LYING IN THE HOTEL ROOM BED, I enjoyed Katherine’s care. She exchanged the bandages on my shoulder, sat by the bedside, and kept nervously tapping with her foot, arms crossed across her chest. “What’s taking her so long?” she asked for the eighth time.

  “It hasn’t even been two hours.”

  “She can turn into lightning, so anything above an hour is her slacking.”

  I smiled. “Aren’t you taking it too hard on her?”

  “No,” she snapped. “If anything, I’m taking it too easy. The doctors may have stopped your bleeding, but they cannot help the bones. And the last time I checked; you need both of your shoulders.”

  I wasn’t sure how to interpret this – did she care about me or did she want something from the vault that much? I liked to think the former, and I wasn’t going to screw it up by asking directly. “I’m fine. So,” I said dramatically, “what are you planning for to do after the heist?”

  “The usual,” she said but her face flushed slightly.

  “When I was in your room, I spotted a resignation form. You don’t do human resource stuff, so I suppose that was yours.”

  She clutched her arms around her chest tighter. “You weren’t supposed to see that.” After a moment of glaring at me, she sighed. “But I suppose I might as well tell you. I will need to step back from my paladin duties.”

  “Why?”

  She rose, walked to the minibar, pried a beer from there, flipped off the cap, and drank half in one go. But she returned to the chair by the bedside. “I am not as young as I make myself look. And, well, the biological clock is ticking.”

  That explained the Dating for Dummies book I also spotted in her room. “You want to start a family.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t want to. But I have to. I am the last of my bloodline, so if I don’
t spawn an offspring or two, the O’Connor bloodline will die with me. And I can’t let that happen.”

  I smiled. “Got any husband candidates?”

  Her face turned red, looking away. “That’s none of your business.”

  Just as I wanted to press her more, lightning flashed from a socket, and Amaranta formed next to Katherine. “I’ve got the stuff,” she said, stretching out her hand with a glass jar filled with ointment.

  “That took forever.” Katherine swiped the jar from her hand and pried open the lid.

  “Thanks,” I said, “Did you get the matrix?”

  Amaranta focused for a second, lightning flashed, and what looked like a giant twelve-sided dice formed in her palm. Each surface area was different, featuring holes, sockets, and carved symbols, each from a different language. “They sold me this.”

  Yep, that was the matrix. “And I suppose they didn’t have a full one.”

  She frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “The core of the matrix is an aether battery. This one isn’t glowing, so it’s empty.”

  Amaranta and Katherine exchanged a glance. “You should have said that earlier,” Amaranta pointed out.

  “You should have asked,” Katherine countered.

  They looked ready to start an argument, for which I didn’t have the nerve. I stretched out my aether, reaching for the matrix. With a focused thought, I fuelled my power into its core. That took a chunk of my strength, but the matrix started glowing faintly. “There.”

  Amaranta glared at me. Yes, I set her up to show off in front of Katherine. What about it?

  For the way back to New York, we flew in Zhang’s private jet. That was way more comfortable than the common flight. The bone-repairing tincture also worked, so my shoulder almost fully recovered mid-flight.

  We landed in New York in late afternoon. Before we exited the plane, I cleared my throat. “We will be heading into the Void tomorrow morning. We meet in front of St. John’s Cathedral and use the local portal. Tonight, I will do some light preparations in the Void, so I will need to head off by myself.” I turned toward Katherine. “I need you to pick up our cipher mage and deliver him to the meeting.”