Agents, Agreements and Aggravations: In Her Paranormal Majesty’s Secret Service™ Book Three

by Anderle, Michael

  The silent man checked his watch and leaned forward. “22:58, sir.”

  The grin returned to the Dragon’s mouth. He snapped his fingers, and the man handed him a manilla envelope. The Dragon took it and slid it across the table toward Jennie. “You may not think I know you that well, but I know you like a challenge. So, here’s yours: every hour on the hour until dawn, a bomb is going to explode in New York City.”

  Jennie tore open the envelope and pulled out the contents.

  The Dragon continued, “Inside, you’ll find your first clues. Think of this as a magnified Easter egg hunt, only with far direr consequences. This chase will test your limits, test your knowledge, and most of all, show me what you’re capable of.”

  “What if we choose just to kill you now?” Carolyn growled.

  The Dragon laughed. “Bomb number six.”

  Jennie scanned to number six and read the clue aloud. “Once you have completed the other five tasks, the Dragon shall deliver your final clue personally.”

  Her party grumbled and broke into uneasy chatter. The Dragon reveled in their discomfort. “Better get going, King. The first bomb strikes at midnight, and I know that you’d hate to see an entire section of the city explode.”

  Jennie’s heart raced, hatred burning through her as she looked into the Dragon’s cold, dead eyes. More than anything, she wanted to exorcise him there and then. To pull out the Saber of Holy Divinity and send him into the abyss.

  But her hands were tied. Lives hung in the balance.

  “We’ll be back,” Jennie warned, making no reservations in hiding her fury.

  “Oh, that’s the other thing,” he replied. “The Dragon title gets passed along when the monarch dies. You can simply call me Peter.”

  He laughed loudly as they raced out of the chamber and headed to the surface.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Richmond, Virginia, USA

  Jiao remained silent, for the most part. Madame Celestine took great interest in the petite woman, but she gave nothing back.

  “Tell me about your spectral experiences,” she asked.

  Tanya told the spiritualist about her position in New York and the studies she had been involved in. She talked about her library and got all the way up to her first encounter with Sandra when she started ducking the truth. She wasn’t ready to reveal to Madame Celestine that she had a spectral companion—who she hoped was sitting somewhere nearby right now.

  Madame Celestine looked impressed. “Wow, so you’re pretty clued up on this stuff.”

  “I guess,” Tanya replied. “Maybe not so much in the practical side of things like yourself. I never went too deeply down the rabbit hole of summoning spirits and looking for vehicles to help them communicate with us. I’m fascinated by your methods. Tell me about your greatest spectral experience.”

  Madame Celestine gladly regaled the tale of her visit to the local cemetery when she was fifteen years old. The story was littered in clichés about ghouls rising from the grave, but now that Tanya knew about the spectral world, she understood that there was likely a grain of truth in there.

  To tell the truth, the more the Madame spoke, the more Tanya saw herself in the woman. Is this how Tanya could have ended up if Jennie hadn’t found her and introduced her to the truth?

  “They chased us from the gravestones, but I never forgot that day,” Madame Celestine finished. “The same fear that struck my friends was not found in me. I made it my mission to discover the truth about specters, and here I am. I’ve communicated with them since, of course, just never seen the physical manifestation of one the same way I did so many moons ago.”

  It had grown dark outside. The drilling and growling of the machines still hadn’t stopped, and Tanya wondered why. With the hour growing late, surely their operators should be ready to shut them down and call it a night?

  “Maybe it’ll happen someday,” Tanya suggested. “It’s only a matter of time.”

  The Madame nodded and finished her gin, unconvinced. “Still, as long as I can breed faith into my followers, that’s all I really care about. I may not discover the truth in my lifetime, but that doesn’t mean I can’t inspire future generations.” She stared out of the window at the moon and sighed. “Someday. Maybe.”

  Tanya raised her drink to her lips when the sound of an explosion came from afar. They looked out the window toward the horizon where the sky had grown light, if only for a moment. A deep rumbling ran through the city in soft shockwaves, as though a grade 1 earthquake had been detected on the Richter scale.

  “What was that?” Tanya asked.

  Madame Celestine shook her head. “Damn quarry. They’ve been threatening to use explosives to speed up their dig for months, but the city council has been pushing back. Guess they finally got permission.” She checked her watch. “Little late in the day to be—”

  Tanya couldn’t explain what happened next. She tracked the dark shadow speeding through the streets outside even as it leaped up toward them and broke through the window. Glass scattered over the table and the shape pounced on Madame Celestine.

  Her head was thrown back, hitting the wall so hard it left a hole. Madame Celestine screamed, but even that was interrupted. For a moment it looked as though she had died, until her head resumed to its usual position on her neck, her eyes now white.

  “Freedom…” Her voice had changed and become a deep baritone. There were edges to her voice, as though it had been modulated through a computer. She spoke slowly, calmly. “Finally. At long last, I am free.”

  The eyes fixed on Tanya, who hadn’t realized Sandra had turned her spectral. Several nearby patrons got up in a hurry and left.

  Madame Celestine grinned. “A human with spectral abilities? What a treat. Perhaps you can become my plaything. Perhaps this whole city will become my plaything. When my army rises, and the dead walk again, this city will know the great injustice it poured upon its people all those years ago.”

  Tanya’s throat was dry, but she found her voice.

  “Who…Who are you? What injustice are you talking about?”

  Madame Celestine grinned, showing a row of yellowed teeth. “Oh, dear conduit, all will become clear soon enough. This vessel is mine now.”

  Something strange followed, something Tanya would later struggle to relay to Jennie, Lupe, and Baxter. Madame Celestine rose from her seat and flew out the broken window. Bits of skin caught on the glass, but if she felt any pain, she didn’t show it.

  Tanya watched in stunned awe as Madame Celestine flew above the rooftops, disappearing somewhere into the streets beyond. Only when she was out of sight did she speak again.

  She turned to Jiao, surprise on both their faces. “What the fuck just happened?”

  New York City, New York, USA

  “What the hell do we do?” Carolyn asked, working her hair nervously with her hands as they crowded around Jennie and studied the sheet of paper.

  The instructions were simple. On the paper was a listing of six titles in bold. Underneath each title was a written clue that, when answered, would reveal the location of the next detonation site. Jennie was lost in thought as they waited for some kind of answer from them.

  “Jennie?” Carolyn nudged. “Hello? Time is precious.”

  Jennie nodded slowly as she came out of her reverie. “He’s playing us, relying on panic. That’s what a man who comes from his kind of background would do. If we panic, we fail, that’s the key to him succeeding with this.” She scanned the clues again, her brain not quite switching into gear in order to work them out. She handed the paper to Rhone. “Here, you’re experienced in running field ops with groups of agents. Divide and conquer, you should set the field.”

  Rhone looked at her incredulously. “Jennie…I was just fired from the SIA. I can’t…”

  “You can, and you will,” Jennie interjected. “You weren’t terminated because you’re shit at your job. You were dismissed because you were wronged out of the job you deserve. I trust
you, and I need you to do this.”

  Baxter moved closer to Jennie. “Why do I sense we’re about to split off and go on a solo mission?”

  Jennie smiled. “Because you can read me like a book. The only difference is that I’m going solo. You’re going to join the others, Bax.”

  The rest of the group were surprised by this revelation.

  “The math adds up,” Jennie continued. “There are eleven of us and six clues. Split into pairs and seek each detonation device. I’ll go alone to solve my riddle.”

  “Are you sure?” Baxter gave Jennie a longing look.

  Jennie shot him a reassuring grin. “I’ve been doing this for years, Bax. I haven’t failed yet. Go ahead, seek the clues. Call upon the Spectral Plane to help out if you need to, Lord knows they could be useful. I’ve got my own path to tread.”

  Baxter raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to pull the information out of him now, aren’t you?”

  Jennie’s face hardened. “Even if it kills me.”

  * * *

  Jennie nudged open the door to the hidden chamber. She had a hunch that she would find him there, and as usual, her hunch was right.

  “Genevieve,” Peter stated, that smug smile on his face.

  Jennie closed the door quietly behind her. The air was cast in a pregnant tension. “I had hoped I wouldn’t be right. I had hoped that you wouldn’t be here.”

  Peter nodded. “I know.”

  Jennie took a seat at the opposite end of the table. “You say you can hear the voices in my head. What are they telling you now?”

  Peter chuckled. “I won’t repeat such profanity.”

  Jennie nodded. “Nice.”

  Peter leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. Jennie noticed his protege was absent. “So, what’ll it take for you to extract this clue from me, Genevieve? Are you planning on using your full strength to make me squeal? You’ve done it before, why not try it again? Or is that too cliché for you?”

  Jennie reclined and kicked her feet onto the table. “I’m not sure yet. I normally like to assess the mettle of specters before I cast my powers and bleed them like a stuck pig. You could just give me the clue now. Save us both some time.”

  Peter laughed, the sound ringing around the room. “Please. Why would I cut to the chase and waste an opportunity for some fun? Besides, I need to give my brethren a chance to get into position. After all, I know you’ll be like a greyhound to a rabbit. One sniff of a direction, and this will all be over without any fireworks.”

  Jennie picked a piece of lint off her top casually. “Will there be fireworks? Even you wouldn’t set afire the city you love.”

  The smile faltered on Peter’s face. A note of recognition followed. “You can see straight through me, can’t you?”

  Jennie nodded. “Of course. You’re a specter.”

  “You know that’s not what I mean,” Peter replied, a cold note in his voice. “The link…it’s two-way. Since when?”

  Jennie grinned. “Since the moment we first bonded, I suppose. Since you screeched inside my head in a jail cell in the SIA HQ, I’ve felt a connection with you.” She leaned forward, eyes growing dark. “You think you have the upper hand, but if you can see inside my mind, I can see inside yours, and I know the game you’re trying to play. Keep my people and me busy while your men go off and scour the neighboring states, putting themselves in positions of power where they might grow their little enterprise.”

  Peter saw no point in denying it. “They’re all already halfway to their destinations. I’ve got one heading to Pennsylvania, another to New Jersey, someone heading to Connecticut, and one going to Massachusetts.”

  “Smart,” Jennie nodded.

  “Thanks.” Peter sat back and adjusted his shirt collar. “This game is about to blow wide open. I hope you’re ready for the next stage. For years I’ve grown my own underground empire and built a band of loyal followers, and now, partnering with the crime lords of old, we’ll spread across the country and blow this bitch wide open.”

  Jennie clapped slowly. “Impressive. But why are you telling me all this, when I already know? I can read it in your head.”

  Peter considered this. “I guess it’s just to show you. To demonstrate that even you don’t have access to everything.”

  Peter clapped his hands, and a group of mortals Jennie had never seen before came out from traps set into the stone walls. They had dark expressions on their faces and were large, even by Baxter’s standards.

  “How?” Jennie asked, rising to her feet and moving her hands to her guns.

  “Selective memory recall,” Peter crooned. “You have access to the memories and thoughts I allow you to have. Meditation has always aided in helping me control my thoughts, and in hiding the truth about what was hidden in this room, you were none-the-wiser.”

  They pointed their pistols at Jennie. She scowled and moved her hands away from her own.

  “That’s a dirty trick,” Jennie growled.

  Peter seemed to take this as a compliment. “Thanks. And now, if you’d like to follow us, we’ll happily escort you—”

  Jennie drew her pistols in a flash and let off two shots, immediately taking out two men on either side. She shot their arms, incapacitating them, but tried to avoid killing them where she could.

  She pivoted, expecting a barrage of shots in retaliation, but nothing came. Instead, the horrendous screeching filled her head, sounding like metal scraping on metal at a volume that shook her brain cells. She clapped her hands to her ears and was horrified to see that she was the only one affected in the room. Peter simply stared at her with a satisfied look.

  When he was done, Jennie was on the floor. The mortals rushed to her and bound her in cuffs, and soon she was being marched toward the doors.

  Peter smiled and waved her away, pausing his men only long enough to say, “Oh, and one more thing, Genevieve. Those fireworks we discussed? They were real. I hope your friends enjoy them.”

  Jennie tried to latch onto Peter and turn spectral so she could melt through the handcuffs. Her head hung when she realized that that wasn’t an option. The son-of-bitches had stolen SIA technology when they had broken Peter free.

  Think, Jennie. Think.

  A voice returned to her. Don’t think too hard. Remember, I can hear everything.

  Somewhere on the surface above, Jennie felt and heard the unmistakable sound of explosions.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  New York City, New York, USA

  The shockwaves were felt across most of the city of New York.

  An explosion, creating a mushroom cloud over fifty feet high, sent civilians running and screaming. The bomb set off just over a kilometer away from where Rhone, Carolyn, Feng Mian, Ula, Triton, Roman, Julia, Ruby, Jack, and Baxter were standing, discussing the finer points of their separation.

  They had been in a deadlock, with Rhone figuring out who should pair with who to act upon the clues the Dragon—Peter Zhao—had given to them to stop the bombs.

  A part of them had believed that he was bluffing. No one could set up a treasure hunt this extreme so fast, but they had clearly underestimated the guy.

  Throwing caution to the wind, Rhone urged everyone to join them as he led the charge. As the mortal with the most experience in handling situations like this, no one argued. Even Baxter, who had ridden by Jennie’s side through more than he ever thought would be possible, nodded and let Rhone take them onward.

  They reached the coast of the city and found the site of the bomb. Smoke poured from the southernmost tip of Roosevelt Island, and Four Freedoms State Park was now in tatters. Raging fires burned along the ground, and the black cotton smoke billowed angrily into the atmosphere. Despite the inherent danger, civilians gathered en masse across the water and took pictures on their cell phones and updated their social media feeds with the excitement.

  “I hate mortals,” Baxter grunted.

  Even the conduits, Ula, Triton, and Roman, nodded in sile
nt agreement. Ruby abashedly lowered her own cell and cast a sheepish look at the floor.

  Rhone examined the paper in his hand, reading through the six clues. “Which one would this have been? I can’t figure it out. The riddles are too obtuse.”

  “Does it matter?” Carolyn asked. “We’ve already failed. The son of a bitch tricked us. He said we had time.”

  Baxter stared over the water as the sirens of fire engines and cop cars began arriving on the scene. “Of course, it matters. This proves the psychopath isn’t true to his word. If one bomb has already exploded, that means five more will soon. We can’t rely on the luxury of time in this case.”

  “Fuck,” Rhone growled as he scratched his head. “What do we know about the Dragon and his friends?”

  “His name is Peter,” Ruby corrected.

  Rhone shot her a look.

  “What?” she added. “I thought it was relevant.”

  Julia, who had been staring at her cell phone and scrolling through information pages, tapped the phone excitedly. “Here it is. I knew I’d heard the names before. The Dragon was part of a group known as the Infamous Seven. They were a crime syndicate who worked together in the eighties, splitting the city into seven separate bases of operation. Although their crimes were known to law enforcement, NYPD was never successfully able to lock down the kingpins of each operation and prevent the crimes.” She scrolled further down. “Looks like they came close on a few occasions. They’ve even got names listed here of the syndicate bosses, although the report says that this information was never confirmed.”

  “What were their names?” Rhone asked, coming behind Julia and narrowing his eyes on the screen.

  Julia listed the names. “Tommy Vincenzo, Ruben McAffey, Bobby Doltan, Dominic Ferriss, Craig Cowley, Sammie Garcia and… Oh. That’s interesting.”

  “What?” Carolyn asked, taking a sudden interest. “Who is it?”

  Rhone nodded solemnly. “As Ruby said, Peter Zhao.”

  “Well, that seems like too much of a coincidence,” Baxter pointed out.