by Gary Starta
What he said next had me fighting to keep my jaw from dropping.
He told me he had the ‘skinny’ on the terrorist’s big plan.
I had to ask how he could have come by such information. Surely, the people behind such a plan would never risk educating a flunky--yes, that’s Sweeney in case you’re confused--on their most diabolical plans.
What he told me reaffirmed by vision.
“I just couldn’t go through it with it, Diggs. I was supposed to be their eyes and ears.”
“You mean you were a double agent?” I feigned surprise. “And you took my money; you were supposed to be on my side.”
“Yes. I did it. I’m a rat. But I’m a rat who wants to come clean. When I found out they were out to kill a teenage girl, I decided to cut and run.”
He explained how this secret society, which sounded a lot like the Knights of the White Temple, had genetically created a being to aid Mollini’s escape. “It carried genetic enhancements with it. I don’t know how, but I’m sure it’s the truth. One of their scientists bragged about how he had created a mule. It was designed for one sole mission.”
“Mule,” I asked, “like mules that carry drugs across borders?”
“Yes, in a sense; but these mules carry science… magic, if you will. It was how this thing you thought was a demon was able to masquerade itself. Get itself through the portal to your reality and back, all the while upgrading Mollini in the process.
“So do you think Mollini was a genetically created being as well?”
“Can’t tell you, don’t know that much. It’s doubtful when you consider these mules are designed to live very short life spans. This mule is most likely dead or exterminated--if you know what I mean. I think Mollini is human, but somehow amenable to genetic upgrades. I really don’t know. All I know is that I agreed to work for these people.”
“At least you can identify them as people. Are you certain they aren’t the Knights of the White Temple?”
“Again, lady, I was on a need to know basis. They never told me. I never asked.”
“So you sold your soul to nameless, faceless beings?”
“I thought they were out to waste a lot of demons. I didn’t know about their plans to kill a teenager in the process. I wouldn’t have discovered this if the scientist weren’t so loose lipped. I guess that’s a good thing for you, Agent. But if it makes you feel any better, I could have never been their eyes and ears because I’m pretty sure they don’t know who or where this girl is.”
I fought the urge to punch him. I chose to weigh his words instead. If he were dealing with a scientist as a go-between, he probably wouldn’t be able to identify the terrorist cell. It also made sense that the hate mongers weren’t getting into bed with the demons--whom they despised. Instead, they had created a means to genetically mimic a demon. I’m sure they killed the little minion with sheer delight when its use came to an end.
But the real kicker was that I had been harboring suspicion of Manners when I should have been more wary of a man who shared the idiosyncrasies of a scientist.
Eighteen
After a quiet Sunday, all hell broke loose on Monday. It didn’t surprise me. It had been too quiet… eerie quiet.
Briana had called me as I readied for work. Dripping wet from a shower, staring at the strange branding on my shoulder, I went silent for nearly a full moment.
Stunned, not surprised. I had failed someone again. Brahms had gone missing sometime between Sunday evening and the morning.
Briana implored me not to aid in the manhunt. She had help. But not the kind of help I approved of.
“Judge Manners is back, Caitlin. He had to tend to some business.”
“Business?”
“He is a commercial real estate broker and sometimes he works as a judge at cat shows. He’s not a man of leisure, nor is he part of our investigation team.”
She took a breath and apologized for being curt. “He’s sorry for abandoning the stake-out and is very sad to hear about Yilosk. I suggest you go meet with AD Grant. We’ll comb the area for Brahms. I don’t think he could have gotten far. He didn’t take his car. Maybe he went for a walk and got lost.”
I pondered Brahms taking a walk in the dark. Maybe he’s despondent. I asked Briana about his behavior.
“He’s eccentric, Caitlin. Kind of crazy, but not manic; for goddess sakes, he hums tunes around the house all day. I don’t think he would kill himself.”
“Then we have to consider Mollini. Maybe he’s back.”
“I’ve already considered that. I think he would have left us a trophy.”
“Yeah.” That’s all I could say, numbed by what Mollini had done to Diggs, leaving her dead body on a doorstep. I also had to believe Charlize was Mollini’s main target.
“You’re probably right, Briana. Let’s just hope he wandered off to buy some avocados.” Not one bone in my body believed that.
I made a call to the Washington PD after disconnecting with Briana. The coroner, Kady Spelling, answered on the second ring. “I’m not under any orders to cooperate with you, Agent Diggs.” Her bluntness reminded me of my former partner. Despite her less than warm welcome, Spelling did estimate a time of death for me. Yilosk had died before Manners’s watch. In fact, the time she estimated meant he had died on my watch.
I fell onto the couch and patted my wet hair with a towel. I couldn’t afford to be mad at myself. I had to make sense of this. Bastet had jumped onto my shoulder, quiet as a mouse during this interim. Yes, that was it. Stealth... I know I hadn’t dozed off for any significant amount of time on my stake-out. There was no forced entry. No DNA left. The killer most likely had to be a genetic mutation, one of the mules Sweeney had told me about. He, or it, was designed to be as quiet as a mouse. If so, the Knights of the White Temple were good for this. I would have to find a way to connect the dots. I would have to prove they had manufactured an assassin who could walk through walls. Yet, even if I did, could I prove they had programmed it to kill? Working for the Preternatural Crime Division was definitely a bitch.
I still felt stunned when I arrived at work, not giving much thought to my appearance. I didn’t know if I had combed my hair quite right or matched the correct shade of mascara with my attire, but the way AD Grant’s eyes perused my body told me he had not forgotten about our liaison.
“You look gorgeous as ever, Agent,” he said. He didn’t seem concerned that Briana was not at my side.
“Agent McFadden says she’s feeling ill today, sir. She asked me to tell you.”
He still stared at me, agog, apparently not caring that the already shorthanded PCD would be shorthanded today. I smiled with my mouth, not with my eyes, both fascinated and disgusted at how men are fueled by lust. Maybe I would have taken it as a compliment on another day, but today I felt stunned, not stunning.
To make matters worse, I couldn’t tell him about Yilosk, nor did I dare mention that our protective custody had failed Claude Brahms. Gee. What could I tell him? I decided right then and there to request assistance. I had to protect Charlize.
“Sir, I want you to temporarily reassign agents from the homicide division to the PCD.”
He answered with a sly grin. Hands propped behind his head.
“And tell me, Caitlin. What reason should I give the Deputy Director for the request?” He dropped the phony smile. “For that matter, should I just ask the Deputy Director to let you handle the reassignments so you can utilize the Bureau to your full advantage?”
Hmm... First lovers spat. A smile tugged at my lips. Maybe he really cared about me to get this angry. I stared into his sea green eyes, adrift at sea.
“Caitlin. Hello? Are you listening? What reason can I give Deputy Director Seals?”
Oh no. My golden ship just wrecked itself on a rocky shore. Seals... I knew that name. He was the Deputy Director of my FBI as well. If this Seals mirrored mine, he was a dispassionate bureaucrat.
“Tell him it’s about Mollini. I’
ve found his target and she needs our protection.”
I guess saying something with conviction works. Either that or Grant wanted to stay on my good side, hoping to reacquaint me with his couch again. His hand brushed me on the arm as I left. It angered me as I rode the elevator up to Seals’s office. What kind of signal was he sending? Empathically, all I could read was lust. So was I just a sex buddy, a friend with benefits, a booty call? I realized why my alternate refused his advances. Diggs had probably known better. Still, the thought of the incredible sex we had tempered some of my rage. But not enough to turn a lion into a lamb by any stretch of the imagination, in fact, one might say I appeared as bull to the Deputy Director. If Seals lusted for me, he didn’t dare show it.
He remained seated at his desk, hands folded. His eyes told me sit down.
Great! He was already pissed off. Maybe pre-pissed as in “pre-cooked.”
I wondered if we would just ram heads. I had confronted the Seals of my world with a possibly conspiracy and ended up leaving his office without my badge and gun.
“I understand Agent Diggs you have come upon some Intel that validates your theory. Care to share your revelations?”
I would have to lie. I couldn’t tell the FBI of my world about my visions and here I was again facing the same scenario. My anger fortified my conviction to protect Charlize. I simply said, “Divulging those sources might endanger more lives.”
“All right, Agent Diggs. Then you can tell me about this woman you need to protect. How can I justify the additional resources?”
“Aren’t we all here to preserve life?’
“Agent Diggs, flippancy does not become you. Although I can’t say it surprises me. I have to wonder how AD Grant puts up with your insubordination.”
Looks like my alternate had handed me her baton. I guess agents named Diggs were predisposed to piss off FBI superiors.
“Okay, sir. I apologize,” I lied without even crossing my fingers behind my back. “We have a chance to lure Mollini into a trap. He’s coming after her. I’ll stake my career on it.”
“Please do, Agent. Then please tell me how you’ll stop this Aldo Mollini. AD Grant says this man is nearly unstoppable, killed dozens in an alternate universe. So how will additional agents help you in this endeavor?”
He sat there smug, hands still folded, he had me. I would have to resort to storytelling, preferably the fantasy genre.
“Agent McFadden is working some spells as we speak. I think we can--”
He cut me off. “I agree that taking down Aldo Mollini is a worthwhile endeavor. In fact, I’d like you to find a means to send him back to his reality, permanently.” Not a believer.
“That’s just it, sir. I believe Mollini is originally from this reality. I also think he was manufactured by a terrorist cell to kill demons. But his programming was faulty. His creator banished him from this world.”
“So why in God’s name is he back?”
“A new agenda. I believe the terrorists want to take out the target because of the threat she poses. They can’t stand the fact she is aiding demons with a gift, one that might make some people believe she is a goddess. She threatens everything these terrorists stand for.” I explained this woman had the power to temporarily cure demons of their natural inclination to harm humans. I deduced she could help millions of afflicted beings in this world. Seals stared me, perturbed, unimpressed.
“Agent Diggs, will you please stop referring to this woman with pronouns? Who the hell is she? And if she possesses such power, why can’t she protect herself?”
I decided not to answer direct questions. I admit I behaved more like a broker than an officer of the law. “If you agree to give me the requested resources I’ll give you her name.”
“I can’t help you, Agent Diggs.”
“Is this all because I won’t give you her name? Deputy Director, I’m doing everything to protect her identity. The most lethal killer in the universe is after her.”
“That’s not the reason why; although, you do present a convincing argument. I know all about these ‘anti demon’ hate groups. They rattle some cages then, they go into hiding again.”
“But this time they have the means to do a lot more than rattle some cages. I fear they’re associated with Mollini. They are the ones who designed him, and now they’re bringing him back.”
“Nevertheless, the Bureau can’t take sides in this matter. This is a race war. If we were to save this woman you speak of, our actions might bring about Armageddon. You’ll have to take care of Mollini--discreetly.”
“So you’re saying saving one woman’s life will bring about war?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying. You believe curing demons of their evils is a good thing. But not everyone will share your opinion, not even demons themselves.”
“I don’t think you or any humans really care about demons. Humans lump vamps, lycans and incubi into the demon category. It’s politically incorrect. And if we follow this logic, we just might be one small step away from joining these terrorists.”
“Well if vamps and lycans are offended now, what will they be like when we come out and say they’re evil and they need our help? That’s what this is all about. If we legitimize this woman’s mission, we’re saying humans are better, that demons are lesser beings, in need of our guidance.”
I locked eyes with Seals. “At this moment I can’t say humans are better.”
He ignored me. “We can’t afford to offend this group, Agent Diggs. They comprise nearly sixty percent of the world’s population. If we were to effectively tame our demons, another nation might draw us into conflict to purposely take advantage of our weakness. Think about it. The nation with the most demons wins if a war breaks out. We need our demons to remain demons. Besides, most of them keep to themselves anyway.”
“They keep to themselves because we’ve created segregation.”
“And we better hope this never changes because if it does we might become extinct. Just because humans currently head all the major government branches, including the presidency, doesn’t mean we are really in control. Not when push comes to shove. And I won’t allow this mage to tip the cart. It’s best she stays underground. It might be best for all if she discontinues her work.”
“Are you saying we should let Mollini kill her?”
“I’m not saying that. But if that would give Mollini what he wants--what these terrorists want--maybe they’ll leave us alone.”
“I’m going to forget this conversation, Deputy Director. I don’t want your assistance. I can’t believe you think spilling anyone’s blood is for the greater good or that a hate war could end so simply. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got work to do.”
“Yes, you do Agent--stopping Mollini.”
“And preserving life--all life--while I’m doing that.” With that, I left his office, back arched, head high, stubbornly indignant.
Not the best exit strategy. But at least he didn’t doubt I was his Agent Diggs. And as I rode the elevator back down, I had to wonder if I didn’t put Charlize at more risk. Could the government be in bed with these hate groups? Would they exterminate Charlize to preserve segregation? I continued to ride the elevator to the ground level, phoning AD Grant to say I would be out in the field. I couldn’t stomach the hypocrisy of the Edgar J. Hoover building one minute longer. Why did the words ‘Federal Bureau of Investigation’ and ‘conspiracy’ always seem to go hand in hand?
~ * ~
I spent the next hour making a mental list. Means to protect Charlize… I considered Bastet. Her darker nature might help in a pinch. And Briana could cast spells, maybe not the kind to kill Mollini, but possibly trick or fool him. Even Manners might help. Maybe he could transport Charlize to safety, in case of an incursion. I was glad the phone interrupted me. My mental list was seriously lacking oomph.
Briana said Dr. Federov had enlisted our protection for another holi-concert this evening. “Good news, Caitlin. Manners has been a
given a pass-plus one-so he’ll be taking his son along.” I concurred. Then I worried. In effect, I would be putting Manners’s son, another teen, at risk. I deduced the only protection I could provide was in theory… just intent. Wouldn’t it be great if intentions were enough?
Briana painfully reminded me of another person I had left unprotected. Brahms was still MIA. She thought it might be best if she skipped the concert to continue her search. I had to convince her otherwise. If Mollini did show up, I would need--Charlize would need--her skill at magic. I finally twisted Briana’s arm by doing something I might regret later. No, it wasn’t sleeping with AD Grant again. I vowed to hire my sleazy PI friend to track Brahms.
“But you don’t trust Sweeney. I don’t trust him. He admitted he was double crossing us.”
I had to share my theory with Briana; it was the only way I could stomach asking Sweeney’s help.
“Briana, we have to consider Brahms has double crossed us. What if he staged the kidnapping? What if he is really working with Mollini to find Charlize? Why else would he disappear? Maybe he feared we were on to him. If so, who better to catch a double crosser, than a double crosser?”
“I hate to consider that possibility, Caitlin. I’m sure you know why.”
I sure as hell did. It meant her Agent Diggs might have given her life in vain.
“Briana, Brahms may have intentionally created Mollini to be a monster. He also might be responsible for creating the prototype of the mule that freed him, which possibly might have killed Yilosk.”
I could hear the heartbreak in Briana’s voice, but I refused to put a damper on the night’s festivities. Dr. Federov had been right about celebrating Charlize’s magic and I had to admit the thought of being whisked off to a wondrous concert in a white stretch limo did make my heart beat a little quicker. I decided distraction was best. I put on a sequined silver dress, pulled my hair into an elegant up-do and tried to forget all the impending doom and gloom. I had to believe Mollini was still in the dark regarding Charlize’s whereabouts. I had to believe in miracles. It wasn’t that difficult. I truly believed in Charlize. I just wish I believed in myself with the same conviction.
