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

by Anderle, Michael

Agent Lionus sat up straight and quickly changed his tune. “Of course, I can do that, boss. Whatever you need. I’m your guy. Just say the word and it’s done.”

  That’s better.

  “There’s a situation that needs attending to in New York,” Daggro started, explaining the call that had come in and the explosions that had shaken the city. “I need you to arrange and send a team out there. You have my full confidence and backing to take what you need and get to the bottom of it.”

  His eyes lit up. “Can we take the jets?”

  Daggro grinned. “No. Choppers will do. Anything else you need, sure. Just keep me abreast of what’s going on, and ensure that I’m in the loop on everything. I don’t want an agent to fart without me knowing about it, got that?”

  He nodded. “I do.”

  “Good.” Daggro tapped a few buttons on her iPad. “The brief is now in your inbox. Get to work and don’t let me down. I can’t stress to you how important it is that this goes right, and what a step up this could be for you.”

  Agent Lionus nodded eagerly and headed for the door. He paused with his hand on the handle and turned over his shoulder. “Why me? Surely you’re better experienced to handle something like this?”

  Daggro’s face hardened. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m snowed under right now. I’ve got the oversight of the entire SIA. You think I have time to get in the field and get shit done? No. That’s why I need you, an ambitious guy gunning for great prospects. Don’t think I haven’t read your reports.”

  Agent Lionus returned a crooked grin. “You got it.”

  When he closed the door, the smile slid off Daggro’s face. She wondered whether she had done the right thing, but what choice did she have?

  Maybe Rogers would praise her when he returned. Maybe not. All she knew was that she needed sleep, and in order for that to happen, things had to change around here.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Richmond, Virginia, USA

  Tanya and Jiao scoured the city until it grew dark.

  They had hired a vehicle on Jennie’s credit card, a run-around that could be used in the city. The purple VW Beetle had little get up and go, but it was enough to get them around the streets.

  Traffic was quiet, as was the city. In the wake of the strange explosion from the quarry, it was as though the world had fallen asleep already. That might have made it easier for searching, but the darkness certainly didn’t aid them.

  “What the hell was that?” Tanya muttered for the fourth time that evening. “I’ve never seen anything like it in my life.”

  Jiao remained silent in the passenger seat, eyes narrowed to the streets, which were quaintly lit by the arc sodiums.

  “She flew. She flew. Out the window.” Tanya shook her head. “I’ve seen strange things happen, Jiao. Hell, I’ve seen a house try and fight me back. But nothing like that. It was like she’s a vampire, or Professor Snape or Voldemort or something. Stuff like that shouldn’t happen in real life.”

  Jiao’s pale face was stoic as she replied. “Lots of stuff shouldn’t happen in real life. If life were as we wanted it to be, I certainly wouldn’t have spent so much time as the Dragon’s little sidepiece.”

  Tanya’s ears warmed. “You guys never… I mean… He didn’t…?”

  Jiao looked at her expectantly.

  Tanya sighed. “You never slept together, did you?”

  “Yes,” Jiao replied.

  “I’m sorry,” Tanya offered.

  Jiao waved a hand. “Not in the way you believe. Yes, we slept in the same beds on some nights, but if you’re talking about the colloquial term of ‘sleep’ and are suggesting that we engaged in coital relations, then no, we didn’t.”

  Tanya breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank God.”

  Jiao looked out the window as they passed a launderette and an antique store. “The Dragon was too fat and ill to engage in such activities. Although he appreciated the company of women, he could not perform in that way. His health was in such decline in the end that the most he could do was pant. I guess I was one of the lucky ones, to be the last of his line of concubines.”

  New York City, New York, USA

  A knock on the door woke Jennie from her slumber.

  It was dark outside. From her perch at the top of the Empire State Building, she could see a few stars dotted around. A full moon lit the sky. Jennie suddenly missed Richmond. There was far less in the way of light pollution, which let the stars come out in their full glory. She hadn’t seen a sky like that since she’d left England.

  Jennie sighed. “I’d say you can’t come in, but I’m guessing that’s not going to stop you?”

  The door creaked open. Light footsteps padded toward her. A thin man with a creased face kept a cautious distance as he came into view. He held a bowl and a spoon in his hands.

  “Zhao wishes for you to eat.” His hands trembled. A look of concern was on his face, as though he had been asked to approach a tiger while covered in a meat suit. “You’re hungry, aren’t you?”

  “No,” Jennie shot back, no sooner realizing as she said it that she was actually starving. Her stomach audibly rumbled, and she growled in annoyance. Peter was in her head, still. She could feel him there like a parasite, monitoring her every thought. She glanced at the bowl and resigned herself to the situation. “Fine. Yes.”

  He sat in front of her and spoon-fed the slop in the bowl. Some kind of thick oatmeal which had the consistency of glue. Jennie had eaten worse in her lifetime, but that didn’t mean she enjoyed any of this.

  When it was finished, he dabbed at her chin with a cloth, keeping his body at arm’s length away. He offered her water, which she greedily drank.

  He silently gathered his things and made to leave.

  “What’s your part in this?” Jennie asked. The man froze. “What does Zhao have on you that turns you into a glorified babysitter? You must have dreams? Hopes? Goals? Why are you here?”

  The man looked into her eyes for a long time. She thought he might answer her, but after a beat, he shuffled to the door and closed it softly behind him.

  “Damn,” Jennie muttered. “I thought I had something there.” She screwed her eyes shut and looked inside of herself. Why are you doing this, Zhao? Why inflict pain and torture on this world?

  And then, a faint voice returned, speaking in such a way that Jennie was almost certain Peter Zhao was standing right behind her. “Because the world wronged me. Now I can finally turn the tables.”

  Not for long, Jennie thought with a grin. Not once I’m free.

  She realized that she had thought her words in the chamber where Zhao could access. It was violating, having someone inside her head. Instead, she changed her thoughts and began to engage the practices she had learned years ago. Her headache was gone, which made the process all the easier.

  Don’t think what you don’t want him to hear…

  Shit.

  Peter Zhao is the Emperor of the World. He is my one true love. Only Peter can give me the things the world has deprived me of.

  She grinned, remembering what Zhao had said to her before taking her hostage. “You have access to the memories and thoughts I allow you to have.”

  Two can play that game, Jennie thought.

  Oh. Shit! This is going to take some practice.

  * * *

  “I wonder if we’re going to run into humanoid turtles,” Rhone muttered, the long tunnels of the sewers carrying his voice in bouncing echoes.

  Ula looked at him blankly.

  Rhone emphasized. “You know, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles? Heroes in a half-shell?”

  Ula shook her head.

  Rhone gave an incredulous look. “Donatello? Raphael? Michelangelo? And… Oh, crap. I can never remember the fourth.”

  “Leonardo,” Julia supplied.

  “Thank you! Leonardo!” Rhone smirked. “He was my favorite, too. Not sure how I keep forgetting that one.”

  Roman scoffed. “I’m sorry, Agent
Rhone. While you were watching children’s cartoons, we were off protecting the country from invaders, terrorists, and scum.”

  Rhone raised an eyebrow. The conduits didn’t look much older than he was. How is it they’ve never even heard of the Turtles?

  “You’ve never watched television?” he asked.

  Triton adjusted the grip on his rifle, making a conscious effort to keep his voice quiet. “We were each born into military serving families. Television was a precious luxury, one that we weren’t afforded. From a young age, we were taught to hone our skills, build our strength, and understand the strategies which can make the difference between life or death while fighting the unpredictable forces which spring up across the world.”

  “Wow,” Rhone replied. “Maybe you should be leading this expedition.”

  “It had crossed our mind,” Roman grumbled.

  Ula slapped Roman on his stomach. “No. We were taught to obey orders, and Jennie has assigned you as the lead, here. Besides, New York is much closer to your wheelhouse of knowledge than it is to our own. We’re with you, Captain.”

  Rhone exchanged a look with Julia and narrowed down his focus on the tunnel ahead, only breaking his focus to briefly mutter to Julia, “Hey, at least we don’t have any pizza. That’d draw them straight to us.”

  Julia bit her lips to hide her laughter. “Aaand we’re back to Italian food.”

  The tunnels stank. A thin channel of sludge and sewage ran alongside them. Rhone did his best to avoid staring at the items floating in the thick liquid. They pulled their collars up to cover their noses as they walked ever further into the sewer system.

  They reached a cross-section, and Julia pointed them onward. They looked forlornly at her, realizing that they’d either have to jump clear over the gap or risk wading through the muck.

  “You first,” Rhone encouraged.

  Julia frowned. Her eyes lingered on the sludge. “Throw me.”

  Rhone couldn’t catch his laugh in time. “Throw you? I thought that nobody tosses a dwarf?”

  He turned to the others for approval, a smirk on his face. His smile faded. “Oh, right. I forgot you guys are oblivious to all pop culture references. Lord of the Rings? No?”

  They returned a blank stare.

  Rhone sighed. “Lucky me, stuck with you lot. Okay, Julia, how do you propose we do this?”

  Julia, who had, at one point, been a flyer for her high school cheerleading team, talked Rhone through a technique which would see her launching from a cradle Rhone would make with his hands, jumping at the same moment that he raised his hands in order to maximize the distance.

  She steadied herself by holding his shoulders. They did a few test bounces. Julia cast a cautious glance at the ceiling. “Not too high, okay?”

  “You’ll be lucky if any of this works,” Rhone replied dryly.

  Ula bumped Roman’s hip. “Are you going to take that? He’s hitting on your girl.”

  Roman grumbled. Triton laughed. Julia rolled her eyes.

  They counted to three and Julia leaped. The maneuver worked surprisingly well, giving her enough distance to cross over the sewage and land safely on the other side. She flew slightly higher than planned but managed to steady herself on the landing by throwing one foot down and running to a stop at the damp wall.

  “Eww!” She rubbed her hands down her top.

  “Would you rather the moss, or the sludge?” Ula asked.

  Julia lowered her head. “The moss.”

  Rhone let out a long breath and steadied himself for the next toss. “Okay, who’s next?”

  No sooner had he crouched into position than Ula, Roman, and Triton took a running start and jumped across the gap in one swift bound. They landed with quiet grace, coming to a stop before they reached Julia.

  “Real classy, guys,” Rhone complained. He glanced doubtfully at the viscous liquid pouring out fumes of stink. “Here goes nothing.”

  He took a few steps back, then followed the others. As he took off from the stone floor, one of his feet slipped. He managed to still get a good distance on the launch, although his face twisted in fear as the sludge streamed under him. He reached out his arms and landed awkwardly on the stone. One foot trailed behind and dipped into the sludge. His toes grew cold, and he could feel the slime seeping into the holes where he laced his shoes.

  Triton grabbed his wrists, pulling him quickly out of the sewage. He winked. “Classy.”

  “Hey, we all have bad days.” Rhone picked himself up and shook his foot. “Shit.”

  Ula grinned. “Probably.”

  Although Rhone’s cheeks colored, they all laughed at that.

  A knocking came from farther along the sewer. They all stopped at once and fell silent. Julia’s eyes were unblinking, while the others readied their weapons.

  “I’m so not prepared for this kind of fight,” Julia whispered.

  Without looking at her, Rhone handed her a pistol, its side laden with the same green lights that rimmed the SI glasses. “You better get ready and quickly. Shit is about to go down.”

  They sneaked onward toward the source of the sound. Although they strained to hear anything further, all had fallen silent ahead. Cut into the walls of the sewers were shallow recesses, which they used as cover as they advanced as quickly as they dared, ready for any eventuality ahead.

  Julia trailed behind the group, doubtfully holding the pistol. When she had been working for the Umbra, things had been different. They had been surrounded by people who would die to protect her. But now that the group was a literal handful, she felt exposed and nervous.

  What if people started shooting? What if they were overrun? She knew she was attractive, relatively speaking, and worried what their enemies would do if she was held captive. Men could become monsters when given ultimate power over a woman.

  The only thing keeping her hopeful was the experienced vets pacing ahead of her. These three ex-forces, and the federal agent who dealt with this kind of situation daily. Who better to walk behind than these?

  Still, that didn’t stop her from glancing longingly down the tunnel behind her.

  A few minutes later, Rhone raised a fist to halt them. The conduits obeyed instantly. Julia almost ran into the back of the others. There were noises ahead, gentle footsteps pacing.

  Rhone lowered his fist and raised his rifle to his eye line. They curved around a bend and found the first lot of their enemy.

  Finally, Julia thought. I was beginning to think we’d been led on a wild goose chase.

  Two men and one woman in ninja-yoroi, dark material wraps that clothed their entire bodies but left room for flexibility. The only part of their bodies exposed were dark eyes through slits in their face masks.

  They were pacing in front of an entrance to their right. If Rhone and the others hugged their wall, they would be able to get them. But there was almost no way to catch them off-guard.

  “Ninjas?” Julia mouthed to Rhone.

  Ula caught this and shook her head. “Of course not,” she replied in the same near-whisper. “Why would real ninjas be standing guard in a goddamn sewer? It has to all be for show.”

  Rhone took a steady step forward, but Roman halted him with a hand on his shoulder. He waved him aside as he reached into his pocket without looking and drew out something that looked like a collapsible metal straw.

  Julia watched with fascination as the other conduits followed suit. They each then took something else from their pockets and held it to the mouth of the straw. Standing side-by-side, they narrowed their eyes, selected their targets, and exhaled sharply.

  Their cheeks puffed as three tiny darts sped through the air. Julia lost sight of the projectiles but knew they’d hit their mark when they immediately clutched their necks and fell to the ground.

  Rhone nodded, impressed. Ula held up the straw and gave a grin, whispering, “You learn a lot out there in the jungle.”

  She said no more, leaving Julia in awe as they nudged forward and appr
oached the opening the guards had been protecting.

  They had gotten lucky. There were more guards stationed inside the tunnel. The conduits quickly dragged the bodies out of sight of the main entrance and peeked around the corners.

  There were two more sets of guards spaced fifty meters apart along the tunnel. At the farthest point they could see, a shaft of light was beaming down from the surface above. It was milky and white. Julia wondered if it was sunlight or moonlight.

  How long have we been down here?

  Where the light touched, was a podium with a device strapped to its center.

  The bomb!

  Julia motioned to Rhone, but he had already clocked the device. He turned to the conduits and muttered in a barely audible whisper, “We approach slowly. One wrong move could set them all off.”

  “Are they kamikazes?” Julia asked.

  Triton chewed his lip. “Not likely. Either way, this is a delicate play. We alarm the troops, we risk triggering it all. Whether they’re kamikazes or not, they’ve been sent to do a job. We stop them with stealth. That’s all we have here.”

  Roman grunted his agreement.

  “But how?” Julia asked. “They’re everywhere.”

  Rhone glanced down at the guards they’d taken out. He raised his eyebrows at the conduits.

  “Finally,” Roman grumbled, a grin appearing on his face. “A chance to get our hands dirty.”

  Julia suddenly connected what Rhone was suggesting. “You can’t be serious?”

  Rhone shrugged. “It’s all we’ve got.” His eyes found the conduits. “Stealth, baby. Stealth.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Red Hook, Brooklyn, USA

  The warehouse in the abandoned industrial district of Red Hook was simple to find. When the large building came back into sight, Baxter, Carolyn, and Feng Mian were overwhelmed with nostalgia at the place that had been their gathering and training ground for the battle that had taken place in Times Square.

  Carolyn sighed. “Back at the warehouse, and we’re gearing up for another battle. I really wish we could say that the situation was different now. At some point, the world has got to be safe, right? This is exhausting.”