by Doug Burbey
Heck, some of this stuff is almost decent. Why can't Cracker Barrels be like this?
She fondled a few more items until she saw a woman, older but still attractive, and another man who screamed career-government-suit come in and join him.
"Hi, I'd like to be seated now?" She quit breathing through her nose as she spoke, her voice instantly becoming nasally.
The young woman behind the podium smiled at her. "Sure, we're pretty empty so do you have a preference?" the server asked she walked her into the room. Agent man and his party sat at a window so she angled for a booth where she could watch their body language where but they'd have to move their chairs to see her easily. Besides in this outfit, you'd have to be blind to even want to talk to her.
The hostess smiled at her, handed over a menu, and moved away, probably to save her eyesight. Kayter glanced at the menu and decided on something that couldn't be messed up. She pulled out her phone and pointed it towards their table, slipping in her Bluetooth headphone, and hit the app that activated the small directional microphone she'd attached. Then she listened, wondering what she would learn.
"I do not understand why you insisted we meet here, Chad." Kayter flicked her eyes up to verify but with only one woman in the group, she knew who spoke.
Agent man has a name. Chad
"Cordelia, I told you. I didn't want to risk anyone else overhearing us. Kenner might be ready to bring him in, but I have doubts about him," Chad said, even as he flicked the menu away from him.
Kayter typed on her phone, taking notes, even as she put puzzle pieces together.
"And the other people in the office are risks?" Even through the headphones, the woman sounded annoyed and unimpressed.
"Risks? Not really. Talk too much? Probably. Look you know how important this is. Demon summoning is on the rise and we need hunters. I'm just not certain he's the right person to bring in."
The second man, the one who screamed either Fed or accountant, spoke. "He fits all our criteria, has the training, and from what information we've been able to gather about his house, still is well armed."
"Yeah but he's unpredictable, doesn't take orders well, is probably a functional alcoholic, and you wouldn't know if he would actually do what you asked," Chad pointed out.
Kayter wanted to look up, to watch, but figured that might be a bit too obvious, so she buried her nose in the phone, pretending to be absorbed in what it said.
"And the rest of my 'employees' aren't like that?" The sarcasm in the woman's voice made Kayter like her. Anyone with that much attitude couldn't be all bad. But then again, she'd been wrong before. With quick strikes at her keyboard, she took notes of her observations.
"Cordelia, the sarcasm is unwarranted. We both know the best contractors are those who have a light leash and are allowed to figure out the best way to accomplish their objectives." The suit spoke again and Kayter wanted to roll her eyes but the waitress came up to her. She gave her order quickly, wanting to get rid of the woman.
"Bacon cheeseburger, fries, no mustard," she rattled off, making sure the app recorded everything.
The waitress headed off and Kayter focused back in on the discussion.
"… he should be avoided." Chad's voice said and Kayter narrowed her eyes.
"If you are both quite finished telling me how to do my job, I would like to know when you think you can meet with him and make an introduction."
"I'm telling you he's dangerous. He killed the demon, picked up the carcass and didn't even blink. He's a wild card and we can't afford that. He'll expose us and get scrutiny down us with his recklessness." Chad said again.
Why doesn't he like this man? This Kenner?
"Really? Because he was efficient, calm, and fought back the Rage, so you want to not use an excellent tool like that? And if that had been you there? You would have died." A long pause and Kayter heard Chad make some mumbling sounds but not clear enough for her to interpret. "If this is some male ego on your side, jettison it. Because I do not give a flying fuck."
"Cordelia," Chad protested then fell silent.
"Is there a reason you are so determined to sway my decision? Is there some valid reason I should ignore one of the few hunters to walk out of Ypsilanti? This, a man that has managed to control the rage for the last three years without any assistance? Someone who killed a demon single-handed? At least half of the agents in our organization have never killed one without superior firepower; superior to the point that usually I have to create a cover reason for the excessive destruction? Whereas Kenner, on the other hand, killed it, cleaned up, and walked away with only you knowing it even happened. Chad, if that is reckless, please give me more reckless agents." Her voice had an arctic dryness to it.
"Your point is made, Cordelia, the sarcasm is not conducive to employee morale. Though I cannot dispute your points, I will arrange to have someone deliver an invitation about ICER and ask him to come see you if he is interested." Suit spoke this time, and Kayter wanted to cheer for some odd reason. She liked the woman but suspected she would not like the company the woman worked for.
"Philip, please do not try and moderate my behavior or the way I treat my employees. If Chad has a problem with my tone, he is free to take it up with HR. Do not forget how, and why, I have my job." Her voice slashed out like a whip and even looking out of the corner of her eye, she saw Philip flinch backward.
I need to run a check on this woman, who the hell is she?
"Of course, Ms. Bennett," he stammered out.
Her food arrived and Kayter flashed a half smile at the waitress, still more focused on the conversation at the other table.
"Chad, I expect you to deliver the invitation and make sure he has a reason to accept. If he doesn’t, I will be following up to figure out why. Now that our recruitment of Declan Kenner has been decided, and since I still need to finish eating, perhaps we can address the entire fact that a demon just happened to attack someone we are interested in, in front of you, and in front of a backwoods VFW post?" Her voice had a sharply pointed aspect that reminded Kayter of a dagger.
"Oh, um, there was a mage. Young. Stupid. Apparently, a demon contact had convinced him to summon a demon there."
"Alone and without a contact key physically present? And you were lucky enough to witness this? And there just happened to be a demon hunter there to deal with it?" Disbelief dripped off her tongue and Kayter could almost feel Chad squirming in his chair. "Where is the mage now?"
"I grabbed him. A demon had been whispering in his ear and convinced him that they would never come back if all the hunters were killed. It would keep Earth safe if they killed the ones who took so many lives. It sounds like the demons are trying to eliminate demon killers, all the old guys from the war. So apparently this idiot decided to try and ambush them outside the VFW, figuring that is where most of the old hunters would be."
"And you just happened to be there? And the non-keyed mage was alone?" Cordelia's voice was flat, unimpressed, but Kayter wondered what she thought. Was he capable of setting up something like this?
"Luck happens occasionally," Chad replied and his voice sounded sketchy, even to Kayter.
"And where is this ‘idiot mage' now?"
"Uh, he resisted my efforts to capture him, and as he ran he fell, snapped his neck. Sorry I tried to bring him in, figuring he'd have information for us."
If this woman believes that lying sack of shit, she'll lose all my respect.
"Really, how unfortunate. Please make sure you attend all training on how to subdue suspects without killing them. What about the rise in minor portals opening? We know all the major nexus points are guarded but I've seen a spike in mini portals opening at those with 2-5 Ley lines crossing. Have you heard anything to identify which human mage oclaves are communicating with the other side? And how they’re manufacturing key tokens?"
"Not yet. We have a lead or two as to which group might be working with the demons but nothing solid enough to make a conviction or
even pull anyone in for questioning." Philip replied this time. Kayter glanced up, wanting and needing to see his face and body language.
He fiddled with his fries, not looking up, his shoulders hunched.
"So why exactly am I paying both of you? If luck is why you managed to see a demon get killed by one of our perspective demon hunters? A random young mage found enough connections to the other side to get a demon summoned here, if only a drone, yet my employees can't seem to get ahold of anyone that has information about who is talking to demons on the other side?"
The table fell quiet and all she could hear was utensils scraping on the plates. A quick glance up told her an interesting story.
Cordelia leaned back, watching both men, her salad removed of all the protein but the greens only lightly touched. Both men had ordered hamburgers, fries, and cokes. The image of a lean cat watching from a tree branch over a pack of rats sprang to her mind.
The woman is no fool. She knows something else is going on.
"I think we are done here, gentlemen. When you decide to get your asses gear and actually do your mission, please feel free to contact me. Until then, please do your fucking jobs and quit wasting my time." Cordelia pushed back her chair and walked out. Tossing back as she did. "You can pick up the tab Chad, and I will not be authorizing an expense voucher."
Kayter snorted to herself and finished the hamburger. They had not screwed it up. Amazing.
Philip left a minute later, leaving Chad sitting there all alone. She ducked her head down even farther in case he glanced over at her.
"Son of a bitch, the fucking wench," he muttered in a sotto voice that the microphone picked up perfectly. He gave a huge sigh and pulled out a cellphone.
Brow arching, Kayter waited, curious to see who he would call. Their security protocols were shit but she wasn't going to complain.
"Sir, it's Chad Morant." A pause, then he started to talk. "No, sir, I wasn't able to convince her otherwise. She'll bring in Kenner. I think she's becoming suspicious. She twigged pretty hard to the coincidence of the mage and the demon. I told her the mage died while I was trying to apprehend him. Sir, be circumspect in using him." Another long pause as he rose, tossing a fifty on the table. "Don't worry sir, I can handle her. I'll get rid of Kenner before he becomes dangerous and eliminating a few demons won't hurt our plans. If anything, it might help them. Yes, sir."
She wanted to follow but that would be obvious. Besides, at this point she didn't know if she would get any more information by following. So, she sat back and thought about everything she heard.
Should I warn this Kenner? Would he even believe me?
Chapter 14 - ICER Offer
Declan pulled into the parking lot of the VFW and shut off the engine. He wanted to relax. However, experience and the traces of demon still in the back of his truck told him he couldn't afford to assume anything. He especially could not assume that demons and mages weren't out to get him.
Old habits encouraged him to check his knife, the Glock 17 on his hip, and his phone before pulling on his worn leather jacket and getting out of the truck. Walking around in his demon hunting gear might be a bit much, so leather jacket it was.
If I run into another demon in public though, fuck everybody, I'm wearing it. People can bite me, but I won't get gutted.
Buzzing into the VFW, he relaxed as the familiar smells and sounds washed over him. Glancing around he didn't see anyone he really knew or wanted to hang out with, so a quiet evening for him. Heading to a corner table, he waved at Casey, who nodded and started pulling him a beer.
Good man. Why can't the rest of my life be that simple?
By the time Casey headed over with the beer, Declan had decided on his meal - nothing fancy, steak, fries, and salad. A man did need a little bit of roughage in his diet.
He only gave Casey a half smile, not even enough energy to tease him about who might be up to bat this week. He just wanted a little bit of peace. His house screamed safety but the walls were starting to close in on him.
Casting another glance around the room, he analyzed the vets from one of the sandbox wars. None were demon hunters but all of them were good soldiers in their day. If anything bad happened, he'd have some backup.
And if they need to, they could put a bullet in my brain too.
He shook off the morbid thought, instead shifting his attention to his beer and the TV. No game on tonight, most sports were still getting back to regular schedules. It was set to the news when something caught his attention.
"Casey, can you turn that up?" His voice tight and urgent.
Casey glanced at him, shrugged and turned it up so he could hear the News announcer.
"Cops were called to the scene of a veteran of the Demon War acting odd. Police found him barricaded in his house. They were unable to get in. He was shouting obscenities and threatening to kill them all if they touched his stuff." The scene changed to a house in a cleared area, neat yard, driveway, and a clear porch. But Declan looked at it, saw the barred windows, the clear lines of sight, and multiple retreats.
His mouth went dry and his hand tightened around his beer glass, unable to take his eyes away.
"You okay, Kenner?" Casey's voice startled him and he ripped his attention way to nod at the man setting his food down.
"Yeah, just need to see this story. Thanks."
His attention jumped back to the story.
"We only found out the details after the standoff ended. A government agency, one which we still don't know, stepped in and talked the man out. He seemed calm as they took him away."
Picture shot back to four men, all in black tactical gear, walking a man between them. He looked about Declan's age, in worn fatigues, with a cap shielding his eyes. What struck Declan was the jitters he could see in the man's body, the way he kept looking in all directions as if expecting an attack, then the clenching and releasing of his hands. He disappeared from sight as they put him into the back of a black SUV.
Is it the rage? Did he lose it? How did they get him out? What did they do?
"What has neighbors up in arms, is what the police have found in his residence. The camera showed police bringing out more and more weapons. From my point of view, the man had enough to fight a war. What is going on with Demon War vets?"
The camera panned back to men and women carrying out ammo cans, gun boxes, knives, and other weapons that could have just as easily come from Declan's own armory.
"Rumors are that he lost his composure and screamed about rage taking him over and that he couldn't control it anymore. This is the third veteran in the last six months to devolve into incoherent anger and threats against everyone around them. Is this a form of PTSD we need to research? Or is there some environmental contamination from the Demon War and the blood that is only now making itself known? Do we have ticking time bombs living among us?"
"Huh, and the Vietnam vets thought they had it bad." One of the Desert Storm vets on the other side said to his dinner companion.
"Yeah, Agent Orange's got nothing on this rage crap. What do you think, they got too much blood on them?"
"On them, in them, what difference does it make. All I know is those vets might have a shorter lifespan than anyone expected. Hell, the fact there are any vets at all is both impressive and suspicious."
"Hush, don't you know? There's a few that come around here. They've earned it." They glanced around guiltily but Declan hid his face behind his beer, pretending to not have noticed.
What if that is me, just in another place, and with less control? Fuck it, have a few beers. You know your limit. Then go home, lockdown, and figure it out.
He focused on food, eyes darting everywhere and all too aware of the rage at the background of his mind and his soul. Andrew was not here today to distract him. For the most part, Andrew qualified as the only person he really talked to. Declan fingered his phone, almost wondering if he should call someone.
God, one rage incident and you're ready to call t
he hotline. Push it down. You know how to manage this. You aren't him, you won't lose it. You've pushed it back, you're in control.
The bravado didn't help. He could feel it bubbling at the edges and made a mental note to avoid Friday and Saturday nights here. Occasionally it got rowdy and right now, rowdy would be bad.
At his limit, he signed his bill, tossing in his normal 20% tip, and headed out, though he still stopped before the door closed, checking the parking lot, reaching for any magic or demons.
Once burned, twice shy, and all that crap. Hell, at the rate my life is going, I'm going to need an eighties montage soundtrack playing in the background.
He snorted and headed to his truck, keys in his hands. Declan slowed to a stop as he saw a man reclining against his truck and his eyes narrowed.
"I don't think I know you well enough to like you leaning against my truck. Get off." Declan stopped a few feet away, more than enough time to draw and put two bullets in his head.
The man stood up, a smile on his face that just had enough insincerity that Declan's hackles were raised. Youngish, not more than thirty, and vaguely familiar but not enough for him to pull out a name for him.
"Sorry about that, but I didn't figure you wanted this conversation in public. My names Chad Morant, and my group has been watching you."
"None of that is geared toward making me feel any better about you leaning against my truck." Declan eased his jacket open, making sure to clear it from his draw.
The dweeb held his hands up. "Really, I’m not here to cause an issue. We just heard a few things, that maybe the rage crept back in, and maybe was causing you issues."
Declan felt like he'd just been sucker punched in the kidney and fought to keep his face impassive even as his mind went into a tailspin.
How the fuck did they know? Could they have gotten into my security systems? Did they set up the demon attack? Or wait, that hunter – did he report it? Oh hell, are they the group that took that other hunter. What if they are here to take me? Fuck them, I won't go quietly.
