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

by Anderle, Michael

  Julia tapped an image and excitedly flashed it around the group. “They’ve even got a map marking the boundaries between their territories. All speculative, of course, but it might be something useful to shut this shit down. Lower Manhattan, Midtown Manhattan, Upper East Side, Harlem, Upper Manhattan, Washington Heights, and Inwood.”

  Carolyn’s eyes were drawn to the fire and smoke. “That’s seven territories, but we only have six clues. Does that mean that one of them is a dud?”

  “I don’t know.” Rhone passed the paper to Julia, inspired by her quick thinking and research. He pointed to the flames. “All I do know is that I don’t want to see more of that happen in this city. Julia, you’re on riddle duty. Where to next?”

  Julia grinned, excited by the challenge, and peered over the top of the paper. She pointed to clue number two. “Really? You didn’t get that almost instantly?”

  * * *

  Julia re-read the riddle out loud, frowning in concentration. “It happened during the July 4th celebration; Sammy walked several miles from Thirty-Second Street all the way to Sixty-Third without seeing anyone or being seen by anyone. It was a clear sunny day, and he could see where he was going. He did not use any disguise or unusual method of transportation. Even though Manhattan was swarming with people, not one person saw him. How could this be possible?”

  They had split into two teams in order to cover the distance faster. Baxter had led his own team, while Julia had partnered with Rhone, Triton, Roman, and Ula. None of them had an answer for her.

  “Trust me to get the non-New Yorkers.” Julia sighed. “Those streets are in Manhattan. Well, Midtown Manhattan, to be exact. That’s where we’ll find our next location.”

  They hailed a cab and sped off in the direction of Midtown Manhattan. Traffic was dense, the city already panicking after the explosion on Roosevelt Island. After twenty minutes of exhaust-choked congestion, they hopped out of the car and ran.

  When they reached Thirty-Second Street, they all looked around, half-expecting to see something obvious that would lead them to what they were searching for—not that they had any real idea. Julia re-read the clue, her lips moving silently as she racked her brains and tried to figure it out.

  Rhone encouraged the conduits to get involved. “Any ideas?”

  “None,” Ula replied. “We’re not overly familiar with this city. This wild goose chase is as foreign to me as navigating through the wilds of the Congo.”

  “You served in the Congo?” Rhone asked, surprised.

  Ula’s face straightened. “That’s classified.”

  Triton grinned. When Rhone looked at him for an answer, he added, “Same as Ula, sir. Unfortunately, without sufficient intel to navigate this landscape, I have little to offer. Thinking in riddles is not my forte. You give me a target to eradicate, I’ll find it. Guns speak louder than words.”

  Rhone raised an eyebrow. “You really believe that?”

  Triton, Ula, and Roman all nodded. Triton replied, “Yes, sir. We do.”

  Not for the first time in his life, Rhone was pleased that he hadn’t gone into the military. At least you got to keep some semblance of self in the federal government. All he knew of ex-military officers was the stone-cold stares of killers.

  Still, you do what you’ve got to do to survive. I don’t blame them at all. The environment is different. I switch from suit to uniform, but the hostilities of modern living are nothing compared to warzones.

  Julia laughed, staring at the sky. The sudden explosion of mirth was manic and had Rhone flinching. “Of course! Of course! It’s so simple.” She slapped the paper with her hand, a triumphant look on her face. “It’s the sewers. The only way you can travel without meeting anyone in broad daylight is the sewers. Well, that, or flying on a private jet.” She paused and examined the sky. “My money’s on the sewers.”

  Rhone placed his hands on his hips. “Are you sure?”

  “Is calzone the best food ever created?” Julia replied.

  Rhone looked back at the conduits who all stared blankly.

  Julia sighed. “Yes. Yes, it is. Damn, you guys really need to try out some of that Italian food when this is all said and done.”

  “I’ve had a calzone before,” Roman commented, his voice deep and baritone. “It’s a broken pizza. Big whoop.”

  Julia laughed off his words. “You’ve clearly never tried one in NYC. I know a great place. I’ll take you sometime.” She glanced around and found a nearby manhole cover. “Ah! Someone help me with this.”

  As Rhone strolled over to help Julia raise the heavy metal lid, Ula leaned closer to Roman. “I see someone has got themselves a date with a pretty little thing.”

  Roman frowned. His jaw clenched.

  Triton chuckled, patted Roman’s chest. “She’s all yours, big guy.”

  They left Roman grumbling as they followed Julia and Rhone down the ladder and into the sewers of Midtown Manhattan.

  * * *

  Baxter waited until the others were out of sight before he set off toward his true destination.

  Carolyn and Feng Mian followed dutifully, with Ruby and Jack at the back of the pack. They half-ran back toward the Rockefeller Center, none of them questioning Baxter’s motives as he took them through the Radio City Music Hall.

  Baxter was worried about Jennie. With the explosion acting as proof that some serious shit was going on here, there was a knot in his stomach that only grew tighter the closer they got toward the hidden chambers. The silence beneath the world was uncanny and in stark contrast to the mayhem taking place above.

  The journey back was faster than Baxter had been expecting, and soon they stood outside the thick chamber doors. He paused and pressed his ear to the door.

  More silence.

  He held up his fingers and counted down. Jack’s face hardened, and even Ruby had an impressively determined look in her eyes as she aimed her gun at the door, ready to boot the damn thing down.

  “Feng Mian…” was the only thing that Baxter offered as Feng Mian took his position at the front and cast his barrier.

  Baxter reached zero. Jack roared and booted the door, sending it flying back on its hinges. They stormed the chamber with Feng Mian in the lead, prepared for whatever assault may come their way. They were half-expecting the room to be choked with enemies firing shots at them, criminals and thugs and scum launching a volley of bullets their way.

  They deflated as they entered the empty room. The only sign that people had been here was Peter’s chair and the crooked angle it sat at, indicating that someone had risen from the table and not bothered to tuck it back in.

  Baxter’s stomach fell.

  Carolyn breathed heavily. “Where is she? Baxter? Where the fuck is she?”

  Baxter frowned, that knot in his stomach growing ever tighter. “I honestly don’t know.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  New York City, New York, USA

  Jennie came out of her daze in phases. Each attempt to open her eyes brought on a fresh wave of pain as her headache set in, beating the inside of her skull like a bass drum. Even through her narrowed eyelids, she was aware of the intense light coming from somewhere nearby, and perhaps it was that that hurt her the most.

  She swallowed, but it was a struggle. Her mouth was dry.

  “For Queen and country,” she muttered, not entirely sure what she was talking about. Every time she closed her eyes, she was transported back to Buckingham Palace, to the days when she had been a resident within its walls. A time when aristocrats and people of note would give her a wide berth in the hallways and mutter behind her back.

  She had only been a weapon back then. Nothing more than a tool for the Queen to snuff out her enemies and keep hold of her power.

  Power…

  That was always what the fight was for. It was never about balance or happiness or the moral high ground. It was always some egotistical shark gunning for a bigger portion of the world. As though notoriety and infamy were the onl
y steps on the ladder toward immortality.

  She supposed, in a way, that was the case. History remembered the victors and the downright nasty. Jack the Ripper’s legacy was still alive today, and what did he contribute to the world? Enigma and mystery. A portfolio of crimes that involved taking the lives of London prostitutes in brutal ways. Should he be remembered? Maybe that was a question for someone else to answer.

  Peter was just one example of those maniacs. Every now and then, a runt slips through the net, and the world underestimates them. If they had squashed him when he was small, things would have been a little easier. Now he was a bear…No, he was a dragon, and that made things trickier.

  Still, you don’t always know which bugs are going to metamorphose into monsters. Sometimes you’ve just got to roll the dice and hope, and in this case, we lost.

  Jennie peeled her eyes open and saw nothing but blue sky ahead. She tried to shield her eyes but found her hands bound to the arms of a chair. She rested a moment, closing her eyes to assuage the pounding headache, then tried again. There was glass in front of her, a huge pane of it. The city unfolded below her as though it was made of Lego. She was high up, and she already had an inkling of where she was.

  She had seen Worthington exorcized here.

  How original, she thought. The bad guys sitting up in their ivory tower. The only ivory tower with a killer view and enough rep to please a sociopath.

  Jennie tugged against her bonds, but her muscles ached. She had no memory of being beaten, but she also had no memory of being transported. Had they drugged her? Maybe. Very likely. She tried once more to free herself but made no progress. Eventually, she rested her head back and closed her eyes. The sun, magnified through the glass, was burning hot. She was sweating, though it wasn’t so much from the heat. It was from the columns of smoke rising from the tip of Roosevelt Island.

  Goddamn it, Peter. You’ve really picked the wrong girl to piss off.

  Footsteps broke the silence behind her. A chuckle followed. “Morning, sleepyhead. Are you ready to witness your destruction?”

  * * *

  They searched the chamber, inspected every nook and cranny, but turned up empty. Even as they left the underground, they poked their heads into any side room and scoured the floor for some kind of trail. There was nothing to find, no clues left behind.

  Ruby pulled up the photo of the page of riddles she had taken on her phone. “I guess there’s only one way forward. We’re trapped in this game, and we have to take it in turns around the board before we can reach the end.”

  Baxter let out an angry shout. It was so uncharacteristic that Carolyn and Feng Mian stared at him warily. His hands were balled into fists, and his arms shook. “She’s a good person. She’s a damn good person, and she’s been taken. What is it about this shitty excuse for a world that has the good guys placed in such dire straits? Why can’t evil relent for long enough that people can enjoy a day in peace?”

  Jack strode over to Baxter and tried to place his hands on his shoulders. He could see him through his SI glasses, but without the powers of the conduits, he passed straight through. “Dude, you need to relax. You can’t stop the evil. The most we can do is hold it at bay. I’m with you, I’d love the world to be all sunshine and rainbows, but until that day comes, I’m happy to fight on the side of good. We’ll get her back. We’ll stop this. We always do.”

  Baxter sighed and nodded his head. “I’m sorry. You’re right.”

  Jack chuckled. “Besides, it’s Jennie. They’ve kidnapped a ticking time bomb. They shouldn’t be worrying about the rest of the city, they should worry about the person they’ve just captured. The Dragon…sorry, Peter, has no idea what he’s done.”

  “Aside from spreading the danger across the entirety of New York?” Carolyn replied. “Why is it always in the city that I love that the greatest tragedies happen?”

  Feng Mian raised an eyebrow.

  “What?” Carolyn asked.

  “Attila the Hun?” Feng Mian replied.

  Ruby added, “Hitler.”

  “The Black Plague,” Jack stated.

  Carolyn waved her arms. “Fine, fine. You know what I meant, okay?”

  When they came out topside, things hadn’t improved all that much. Helicopters flew overhead toward the site of the explosion, the authorities little knowing that more incidents were likely to occur.

  Jack followed the bird and frowned. “We’ve got to let them know. This is bigger than just us. The city needs to be aware of the danger.”

  “What about SIA protocol?” Ruby asked.

  Baxter was quick to reply. “Fuck protocol! He’s right. The city needs to know. This isn’t a case of mortals versus specters. This is a case of preventing as many casualties as possible.”

  Ruby sheepishly cleared her throat. “Erm…I meant that the SIA needs to know. As the overarching dominant force in Spectral Relations in the United States, it’s vital that the agency is aware of what’s going on.”

  “Oh,” Baxter replied.

  Jack dialed in the call. They could hear the tinny voice of Daggro on the other side of the line. Jack was minimal in his responses, but it was clear that Daggro wasn’t pleased with what was going on. A few minutes later, Jack hit the red button to hang up and filled them in. “Daggro is sending agents to accompany us. She feels that the SIA needs to have a heavier hand in this, particularly with Jennie out of the picture for now. We’re to expect their arrival shortly, and they’ll send in a call when they’re here.”

  “And the local authorities?” Ruby nudged.

  Jack nodded. “HQ is calling them in. We’re to proceed with the treasure hunt and do what we can to progress in the meantime. Daggro has also requested you forward the clues to her, Ruby.”

  Ruby held her phone up proudly. “Already on it!”

  Carolyn leaned closer to Baxter. “Does Jennie really believe they’re going to leave the SIA for the King’s Court?”

  Baxter shrugged. “Not my call to make. Though, there is something that we can do in the meantime. Hey, Ruby, can I borrow your phone?”

  Ruby raised an eyebrow but agreed. “What are you doing?”

  “You’ve got your guys, I’ve got mine.” Baxter grinned. “I think it’s about time we phoned in for our reinforcements. Let’s have a reunion of the Spectral Plane.”

  Washington DC, USA

  Acting Special Agent in Charge Holly Daggro ran a hand down her tired face.

  She had hardly slept over the last week. Life in the driver’s seat of the SIA had been exhausting as call after call came in, detailing spectral disturbances in the surrounding states. Her team had grown vastly, and her superior was nowhere to be seen. This had really become a one-woman operation, and there were almost too many moving points to keep track of.

  “I need an assistant,” Daggro muttered, not for the first time that day. The problem was, in order to get clearance for official assistance, she would need the backing of her superior. However, Special Agent in Charge Kurt Rogers was buried deep in the throes of strategizing and communicating with the President of the United States. That left little in the way of methods to communicate with him.

  Daggro’s hair was untidy. She’d been unable to find time to comb the tangles out. With the absence of Hendrick and his magical formulas—where the hell was that guy—she had resorted to copious amounts of coffee, but even that didn’t feel like enough these days.

  Her door opened, and a young agent stood there. “You asked to see me?”

  He was objectively attractive. Slim, muscular build, a square jaw, eyes that sparkled even in the dark. By all appearances, he was the very definition of a jock.

  Still, that didn’t mean he could barge in without her instruction.

  “You’re supposed to knock and wait,” Daggro muttered.

  He looked at the door, then shrugged. “I thought this would be quicker. Wasn’t this an urgent meeting?”

  Daggro thought of arguing. After all, it wouldn�
��t serve to have juniors testing her authority while she was serving in this state but instead chose to look past it. She liked the guy’s spunk. He had all the hallmarks of an agent willing to prove himself and get the job done.

  She motioned to a spare chair. “Sit, Agent Lionus.”

  He stood by the chair, looking uncertainly at the stacks of papers on the chair.

  Daggro grinned. “Just knock them on the floor.”

  He obeyed, taking a seat across from her. “You should probably get a cleaner in here at some point. I thought we were messy down in the dorms.”

  Daggro couldn’t help but smile. She had placed Agent Lionus and his comrades in Jennie’s room, partly to capitalize on space to fit every new recruit into the HQ, partly to piss the bitch off.

  Daggro sat back in her chair and steepled her fingers together. “Agent Lionus, I believe that you are aware of the expansion currently undergoing within the SIA. We’re growing at an alarming rate, and it’s nigh on impossible to try and keep on track with every single mission we have going, here.”

  Lionus nodded but remained silent. Even he knew better than to stop the flow of his superior.

  Daggro continued. “I’ve been watching you. Reports show that you get shit done and you don’t mess around. I need an agent to help me, act as a kind of…assistant, if you will. I think you’re that agent.”

  His eyebrows lifted. Daggro got a better look at those killer eyes. Bright enough to stun a woman so he could drag her back to his lair. “I appreciate the offer, but are you sure there aren’t better qualified agents ?”

  Yes. Yes, there are. But I don’t need experience. I need a mind I can mold to my way of thinking. A yes boy who will obey without question and do my bidding.

  “What better way to qualify yourself than by grasping opportunities?” Daggro crooned. She sighed and shrugged. “Maybe you’re not the agent I thought you could be.”