ONSET: To Serve and Protect

by Glynn Stewart

  “This is Malcolm Akono, our pilot and infiltration specialist,” Michael introduced him, and the small man inclined his head in greeting. “And it’s not you,” Michael added, smiling at his subordinate, “he doesn’t talk much to anybody.”

  Akono gave his superior a look and turned back to David. “Welcome to the team,” he said softly, even his voice somewhat dreamy.

  Something about the man, beyond his far-away voice, vague look, or androgynous features, bothered David. It wasn’t that Akono didn’t feel trustworthy, just…very different.

  “And here we have the member of the team voted least likely to get a credit card under their real name,” Michael said, turning to the last member of the team in the room and taking a deep breath. “May I introduce Ixiltanequestelanaerith?”

  “My credit card says Nathan, actually,” the figure said in an unnaturally deep voice, and David took a long look at him. On first glance, he thought the man was black, with some sort of forehead tattoo. After a moment, however, he realized that the “black” was actually a deep burgundy, and the “tattoo” was in reality twelve small horns in two rows across the top of his forehead.

  David began to take half a step backward, the memory of Koburn’s lecture on the Montana Incursion still fresh in his mind, but stopped himself. While the thing sitting in the room with him was very definitely not human, it was also very definitely not an enemy.

  “But you, Agent White,” the demon continued, apparently unaware of David’s internal conflict, “can call me Ix, like the rest of the team. Especially seeing as how, even with much practice, our esteemed Commander cannot pronounce my name correctly.”

  “Thank you,” David said faintly, still half-staring at the first real demon he’d ever seen.

  When they’d taught him about demons, they’d told him that most of the ones that had come through were relatively minor. Some more powerful ones snuck through occasionally, such as the shock troops that had met US tanks on even footing in the Incursion, but they tended not to last long before the various supernatural defense forces around the world took them out.

  They were, however, still the physical forms of beings the world hadn’t seen in any real quantity in thousands of years. Beings that had spent those thousands of years locked up in the dimensional equivalent of a cupboard under the stairs.

  David had been told that some of them liked the world the way it was, as opposed to the way their masters wanted it to be, and had joined the human defenders of Earth. He still hadn’t expected to actually meet one.

  “Where’s Kate?” Michael asked the other members of the team, causing David to move his eyes away from Ix, who, if he’d noticed the stare, had genteelly ignored it.

  “She has a date tonight,” Bourque replied snapping together two bits of the dismantled weapon on the table in front of her. “She’s upstairs prettying up.”

  “We’re leaving in the morning,” the team Commander observed.

  “I’ll be back by then,” a new voice replied, from the stairs leading up to the second floor of apartments. David turned to the stairs to see the speaker step into the common room.

  For every ounce of femininity that Bourque lacked, this girl probably had three. She was tall and slim, with a long blond braid that fell most of the way to her waist. Carefully done makeup enhanced her bright green eyes, and a small silver pendant of an encircled five-pointed star hung delicately in the cleavage exposed by her tight silver tank top. A short black skirt and long black boots completed a “date ensemble” that was as almost as much a weapon as Bourque’s machine gun.

  “David, this is Kate Mason,” Michael introduced her. “She’s our second Mage and resident little sister.”

  Kate breezed down into the room, smiling at David brightly before turning to Michael. The smile hit the cop, who was well aware he probably had at least five years on the Mage, somewhere under his ribs and made his heart jump.

  “It’s only an hour’s drive into town,” she told him, “and we’re not leaving until the morning. I promise I’ll be back by oh six hundred hours at the latest,” she finished with an impish grin.

  “No sleeping in the chopper,” Michael told her calmly. “No hangovers. And be careful.”

  “Yes, sir,” she replied crisply, all impishness gone for a second. Only a second, however, before it returned in full force. “I’ll see you all in the morning,” she told the rest of the team, the bright smile returning in a flash.

  A chorus of farewells came from the team, and she turned to look at David again.

  “It’s good to see you conscious and well,” she told him, serious again. “Goddess’s blessings on you—I look forward to working with you!”

  With that, she breezed out of the room, leaving it seemingly darker in her absence. David found his gaze lingering on the door she’d left through, and he doubted he was the only one in the group.

  “Also our tame whirlwind,” Michael said finally in the sudden quiet. “I keep forgetting that part.”

  #

  From the common room, Michael led David up the stairs to the second floor of apartments. A single short hallway at the top of the stairs, painted a darker blue than the omnipresent shade of blue, boasted two doors on either side, each marked with a small nameplate, and a door at the far end that presumably led to the stairs up to the third floor.

  The one on the right at the far end of the hall was blank, but Michael led David to the one on the left-hand side. The small name plate read David White.

  To David’s Sight, the plate glowed slightly, revealing a slight magical aura.

  “The nameplate is an alarm, among other things,” Michael told him, confirming his thought. “Not much of a security measure, but if they make it into the dormitories in this place, we have bigger issues than breaking and entering.”

  Michael opened the door and gestured for David to precede him. “Welcome to your new home away from home.”

  Wordlessly, David entered the apartment. The first thing he realized was the sheer size of the place: his brain hadn’t quite done the math between the outside of the building and the fact that it was only split into four apartments per floor. The single-floor apartment was easily the size of a normal bungalow, and the open arrangement of the major rooms left almost the whole place visible.

  He stood in a medium-sized living room, and he could see a kitchen and dinette assembly, equipped with cheap white and black appliances, to his right. A smaller room off to the side seemed to be an office cubbyhole, and a door leading off next to the office was presumably the bedroom.

  Despite the size of the apartment, however, it was only sparsely furnished, with a single couch and coffee table in the living room, a table and chairs in the dinette area, and a small desk and chair tucked into the smaller office room. All of the furniture was cheap military standard issue.

  “Sorry about the Spartan setup,” Michael told him. “We generally leave the apartments for people to decorate themselves—we just provide help bringing the stuff in from Colorado Springs.”

  “So, that’s where we are, huh?” David asked. It was the first time anyone had mentioned the Campus’s location to him. He’d guessed the base was in the Rockies, and probably farther south, but to know where he was was comforting.

  “Yup,” his new Commander told him. “We’re about eighty minutes’ drive out of Colorado Springs—that’s why I was concerned about Kate going on a date tonight. She has a ways to go.”

  “Didn’t we fly in through Salt Lake?” the new agent asked. That seemed like a long detour up the Rockies to come here.

  “Security measure,” O’Brien replied. “Throws off people who may end up not getting the clearance to know where the Campus is. Speaking of which, here.”

  The werewolf extended a brown envelope. “You know that ID folio we gave you?” he asked. “These go in there. They’re your full ONSET Agent identification and your Omicron-Delta clearance cards.”

  David took the envelope and put it
very carefully, along with the ID folio, on the counter in the kitchen. Minor as the brown envelope and its contents might seem, they were the final confirmation that he’d made it there. He knew that there was some disappointment that he hadn’t manifested greater abilities than he had shown, but it seemed like the ones he did have were enough.

  They were enough for ONSET to want him, and perhaps even enough to make a difference. He wasn’t here for power, or for the “fun” of being part of the most classified agency in the USA. He wasn’t here because he wanted to be a supernatural. He was here to serve and protect.

  “So, ONSET will help if I decide to move my stuff down from Charlesville?” David asked, his thoughts returning to the more mundane.

  “Help?” O’Brien shook his head. “You’d have trouble getting yourself involved in the process. They’ll probably just run the nearest OSPI security detail down and load up your things lock, stock and barrel. On the other hand, if you decide to keep the house, it’s not like you can’t afford new furniture.”

  David blinked. “You know, that brings up a thought,” he said plaintively, realizing there was something he’d never asked. In all of his questions about ONSET, all of his lessons, all of his determination to succeed at becoming an ONSET Agent, one question had never even crossed his mind. “I don’t think at any point it’s been mentioned what I’m getting paid.”

  Michael looked at him, laughed, and quoted a number. The younger agent choked.

  “That’s five times what I was making in Charlesville,” he protested. He’d expected some more money, but it hadn’t been a factor. He hadn’t cared—and he certainly hadn’t expected a six-figure salary!

  “In Charlesville, you were a small-town police officer,” O’Brien told him gently. “A senior officer, true, but there are thousands like you in the country. Here, you are a supernatural trained in law enforcement, equipped and deployed as a member of a high-threat-response team operating on a national level. Did you really expect not to get paid more? Even a lot more?”

  David shook his head slowly. It made sense. It was still a shock to the system.

  “For now, you have a bed, a computer and a kitchen,” Michael told him. “I suggest you get unpacked and start making a list of things to either grab from Charlesville or from the Springs when we get back. We are leaving in the morning, so get some rest.”

  “Where are we going?” David asked.

  “Northern Louisiana,” O’Brien told him. “We’re relieving ONSET Thirteen as they go on their week off. I know some things about the possible situations down there, but I’ll update everyone in the morning.”

  #

  Unpacking took David longer than he would have expected in other circumstances. He’d really just thrown everything into the cases for the quick move, which made removing and untangling everything a complex task.

  It was also a completely new storage setup, which he figured he wouldn’t bother getting used to. Almost as soon as he’d finished unpacking, he loaded up a file on the desk terminal and started a list of things to add to the apartment.

  Starting with food. The portions of ONSET training outside the training bunker had been David’s first experience with the military’s Meals, Ready to Eat, and he was sure it would not be his last. Nonetheless, he wanted more food in his fridge than the six MREs currently in there. In his newly acquired opinion, nobody should be forced to eat MREs unless there was no choice.

  Tonight, however, he had no choice unless he wanted to try to find the cafeteria he knew had to be around there somewhere, so he picked one of the trays and prepared it.

  As he ate, he continued to enter data at the computer. The apartment really was bare-bones, and if he was getting paid what Michael said he was, he could afford to upgrade.

  Eventually, after slogging through several online sites with varying English and Swedish names for furniture, he checked his personal email for the first time since arriving on Campus.

  Having answered a couple of personal emails from his old coworkers in as nondescript a way as he could, he went to bed.

  #

  Majestic was actually “working” when the trigger she’d connected to David White’s email account blinked up at her. Cursing, she ignored it. Personal curiosity had to wait—hacking corporate databases took all her attention and a lot of time.

  Some hours later, her original task complete and someone’s proprietary data on the way to someone else, she turned back to the alert. It was cold, but that didn’t mean it was useless.

  A little bit of digging brought up the IP address of the computer that had connected to the email server. A routing address, she recognized, not a personal computer.

  She warmed up a few of her more interesting programs and went digging into that router address.

  Sixteen point four seconds later, according to the log file, her entire computer crashed as her access attempt downloaded a nuke program to her highly secured computer.

  Chapter 9

  The morning saw the members of ONSET Strike Team Nine gathered in the common room on the ground floor of their residence, with Michael standing in front of his subordinates.

  There were no briefing tools, no blackboard or computer screens. The massive TV screen along the wall was turned off. It was just four men, two women and a demon sitting around on couches.

  “We’re moving to ONSET’s North Louisiana base,” Michael reminded them all, “replacing ONSET Thirteen as they stand down to inactive reserve.”

  ONSET Teams, David now knew, were always on one of three statuses: active, meaning in the field at a secondary base; active reserve, meaning on the Campus; or inactive reserve, which meant completely off-duty and often entirely off-Campus.

  “While on site, we will be primarily responsible for Louisiana and the surrounding states and sharing secondary responsibility for the southeastern quarter of the mainland United States,” Michael told them.

  “Remember that after the Texas Incursion, we’re still short three teams,” Michael went on grimly, “which means we’re the primary response team for a seventh of the States, not an eighth.”

  The Texas Incursion was a smaller version of the Montana Incursion Koburn had used for the “why we exist” lecture that had occurred five months before David had even learned ONSET existed.

  Incursions were still astonishingly rare, but when they happened, ONSET went to war. Fourteen ONSET teams—roughly a hundred supernaturals—and a battalion of the Anti-Paranormal Companies had gone up against a relatively minor incursion. Three teams had been wiped out and the remainder left under-strength, but the Incursion had been eliminated.

  “Do we have any details on what’s going on in our area of responsibility?” Kate, in uniform and fully professional now, David noted, asked.

  “We do,” Michael confirmed. “OSPI is performing research on a dimensional hole in southern Florida. They also have several investigations underway into supernatural crime in the area, including what we suspect may be an attempt by a group of fangs to move in on New Orleans organized crime.” The Commander paused and surveyed his men. “Any of these investigations may require deployment of some or all of us to back up OSPI personnel, and dimensional research always requires a close eye kept on it.

  “Things tend to come through those holes,” he said grimly, “and after three-thousand-odd years in the dimensional equivalent of a broom closet, very little of what comes through is friendly.”

  Dimensional holes, David reflected, were one of the things he’d learned about that scared him. Not all other planes of existence were locked behind the Seal, but the links between the other planes weren’t as defended as the link between Earth and the “broom closet” Solomon had shoved Earth’s supernaturals into.

  Ix grunted. “Not least because after three thousand years, the Masters Beyond have made mincemeat of anything that was friendly to humans. They can’t stop the magical essence of mankind coming back,” the demon said grimly, “but they could annihilate the
vast majority of the beings that would have fought with you.”

  David grimaced. He was trying very hard to forget the little he’d been told about the Masters Beyond, the rulers of the demons. None of it was pleasant, and it all sounded rather Lovecraftian sometimes.

  “Be that as it may,” Michael told them all, “our purpose is, as always, primarily to support OSPI’s operations and keep an eye out for major demonic or vampire activity. When needed, we will perform this Office’s mandate and neutralize any supernatural threats to the United States. Clear?”

  A chorus of “Clear, sir,” accompanied by laughs and rude gestures, was his reply.

  #

  The armory slash change room that occupied the rear half of ONSET Nine’s residence’s main floor was spacious enough for all seven members of the team to gear up simultaneously.

  David realized quite quickly that all six of the other members of the team were keeping an eye on him, to make sure he didn’t do something wrong. The realization bothered him for a moment, but not for long. It was as much concern for his well-being as concern he’d slow the team down.

  The first part of the gear the team was wearing was the ubiquitous black bodysuit he’d seen repeatedly on ONSET personnel. When David had first been told to put one on in training, he’d commented that they looked extremely, well, dorky. Koburn’s response had been simple: the trainer had hung up a spare suit, picked up an assault rifle loaded with armor-piercing silver rounds, and emptied thirty bullets into the bodysuit.

  He’d then put the rifle down, pointed at the smeared but unpenetrated suit, and asked if David still objected. Having seen the effectiveness of what was basically an enchanted full-body suit of Kevlar with ceramic inserts, David decided to suck up the dorky look of the outfit.

  Among its advantages, it was actually relatively easy to put on. While David was slower than the rest of the team, it still only took him a minute or so until he closed the zipper up his side.