Capture (The Machinists Book 4)

by Craig Andrews

  Jaxon nodded, burying his pain deep. He still had a duty to perform, had a Family to lead. He couldn’t do that emotionally compromised, regardless of how much Leira’s disappearance hurt. He had to stay strong. As Nolan said, he had to stay positive, but that was easier said than done. He was so lost in thought that he almost didn’t hear it when his phone began ringing in his pocket.

  “Who is it?” Nolan asked as Jaxon pulled the phone from his pocket.

  Jaxon didn’t recognize the number. “I don’t know.”

  “Are you doing to answer it?”

  Jaxon stared at the phone. The truth was, he didn’t want to answer it. A random number calling after the day’s events was enough to fill his insides with dread. He was being irrational, though, and he knew it. The magi numbers weren’t known outside the Order, so unless it was someone dialing the wrong number, it had to be one of their own.

  “This is Jaxon,” he said, answering the call.

  “Jaxon, it’s Allyn,” the voice on the other end said.

  “Allyn?” Jaxon sat up in his seat, suddenly feeling the eyes of everyone in the car with him. “Where are you? Are you all right?”

  “We’re fine,” Allyn said. “We’re headed back to the Klausner Manor now.”

  “We?” Jaxon repeated, fighting with everything he had to keep his hope bottled up.

  “I’m with Ren, Canary, and Leira,” Allyn said. “We’re a little banged up, but we’ll be fine.”

  Jaxon let out a long breath, and the tension he’d been holding slid off his shoulders like ice from a melting glacier. His eyes brimmed with tears as he swallowed the rising lump in his throat. “I can’t tell you how good it is to hear that.”

  “Good,” Allyn said, his voice suddenly going straight to business. “Listen, did you take any of the BearCats from the Knights’ base?”

  “Yeah,” Jaxon said slowly. “Why?”

  “You need to get rid of them.”

  “What?”

  “I said you need to get rid of them,” Allyn repeated. “Ditch them. Hide them. I don’t care what you do, but you can’t drive them. Not right now.”

  “What’s going on?” Jaxon said. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “I’ll explain later, but trust me on this. Do whatever you have to do, but get rid of the vehicles.”

  “Okay,” Jaxon said. “I’ll give the order.”

  “Good,” Allyn said, and Jaxon could hear the relief in his voice. “I’ll see you back at the manor.”

  “Wait. Did you…?” Jaxon was suddenly wary of talking over an open phone line. “Were you successful?”

  Allyn didn’t respond, and the pause lasted long enough that Jaxon nearly repeated the question.

  “Yes,” Allyn finally said, though his tone suggested there was more to the story than he was leading on. “In a way. I don’t have the Blood Wand or our people, but, Jaxon, I have something better. I have the Knight Commander.”

  Jaxon blinked as the words registered. He shook his head in disbelief then looked at each of the other magi in the vehicle with him. Even the driver was watching him from the rearview mirror. Knowing they suffered from the same sense of loss, Jaxon did something he had never thought about doing before. He hit the speakerphone button.

  “Allyn, I just put you on speaker,” Jaxon said. “There’s a car full of magi who would love to hear what you just said. Can you tell them what you just told me?”

  “I said I have the Knight Commander.”

  The vehicle erupted in cheers, and for the first time since Jaxon could remember, he smiled and genuinely meant it.

  Chapter 35

  The magi force returned to the Klausner Manor as the afternoon gave way to evening. The partly cloudy sky was a vibrant array of reds and pinks and purples as the sun began its final descent, the gentle breeze, warm and inviting, a direct contradiction to the mass of emotions plaguing Allyn’s psyche.

  He stood in the center of the driveway, watching as magi poured from the magi SUVs. Allyn had instructed Jaxon to ditch their BearCats, and the future grand mage seemed to have complied.

  As he stepped out of the vehicle, Jaxon smiled and immediately made for Allyn. He looked terrible—cuts and scrapes covered his body, his hands discolored from dried blood, his eyes swollen and concerned.

  “You look awful,” Jaxon said, and it was enough to make Allyn laugh.

  “So do you.”

  “What happened?” Jaxon asked, nodding at Allyn’s injured hand. He’d had it bandaged as he’d waited for the rest of the magi to return, and it was now covered in thick gauze. The Klausner clerics had offered to heal it for him, but he’d declined, knowing their abilities would be required elsewhere.

  “It’s a long story,” Allyn said. “One we’ll get to shortly.”

  “Where is she?”

  “Inside. The clerics are tending to her. She’s fine, Jaxon,” he added as he saw the wave of concern flash in Jaxon’s eyes. “But we need to talk.”

  Jaxon nodded but moved past Allyn, striding toward the manor. Allyn grabbed the other man by his arm, stopping him.

  “Now, Jaxon,” Allyn said. “Bring the arch mage. No, better yet, bring the Forum. Everyone will need to know this.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “You’ll know soon enough.”

  It only took Jaxon a few minutes to assemble the Forum and Arch Mage Westarra in the arch mage’s private quarters.

  “Thank you for coming on such short notice,” Allyn said. “You no doubt have other things to tend to, but this couldn’t wait.”

  The mood in the room was tense as Allyn quickly recounted his part in the battle. He started from the beginning, taking them through the Knight Commander’s sudden appearance and how he and his squad had been taken prisoner, pausing when he came to the point where he’d flipped Sedric’s BearCat.

  “What happened next?” Arch Mage Westarra asked.

  “That’s why I gathered you here.” Allyn let out a deep breath, and instead of saying anything more, he turned to the television mounted to the wall and powered it on. The image on the screen was grainy and chaotic, moving too quickly to easily make sense of, but when it stabilized and focused, a man took center stage.

  “Is that Sedric?” Jaxon asked.

  “Keep watching,” Allyn said. The magi returned their gaze to the television, their eyes moving from Sedric’s figure to the orange banner that stretched across the bottom of the screen. Breaking News, it read. Battle Erupts in Germany.

  Allyn sighed, anticipating what came next, and winced as gasps filled the study. He didn’t need to look to know the fireballs had appeared in Sedric’s hands.

  “What is this?” Arch Mage Westarra demanded.

  “Please,” Allyn said. “Just keep watching.”

  Sedric hurled one of the fireballs, sending it crashing into a parked car. The nearby onlookers dove for cover, others attempting to hide. All but a single figure took cover behind the car.

  “Is that…?” Jaxon’s words trailed off as his eyes met Allyn’s.

  Allyn nodded.

  Jaxon’s mouth hung open, but he seemed to be at a loss for words. The lack of anger was nearly more painful than the fury Allyn knew would come next.

  Sedric hurled another fireball. Then there was talking. “Allyn, Allyn, Allyn…” Sedric said, erasing any doubt who was behind the car.

  The recorded version of Allyn stood, the present Allyn knowing what was going to happen but wishing more than anything he could prevent it. He watched as the recorded version of himself wielded, the unmistakable red coils of electricity springing to life around his arms.

  The study remained silent, shocked, angered, and entranced by the video. The recording showed the entire battle, and when the camera gr
ew too shaky, or its angle less than optimal, the footage would jump to another recording taken by another bystander. It all happened in the clear light of day, and there was no denying Allyn’s involvement. No denying the magi powers.

  “Turn it off,” Arch Mage Westarra said. He rubbed his hands through his hair, exasperated. “I don’t… I don’t know what to say.”

  “There’s nothing to say,” Allyn said. “I only hope the—”

  “Stop!” Arch Mage Westarra commanded. He waved his hand in the air as if he were trying to wave away smoke. “Just stop. For over two thousand years, this Order has remained hidden. Not by choice but out of necessity, and thousands of magi have made enormous sacrifices to make that possible. Our lives depend on it. Our future depends on it. And you have just exposed that secret to the world.”

  “I understand, Your—”

  “No!” Arch Mage Westarra’s voice burned with rage. “Don’t tell me you understand. You don’t know the first thing about the sacrifice others have made or the dishonor you have brought.” He turned to his Elemental Guardsmen. “Rohn, this man”—he nearly spat the word—“is to be confined to his quarters. Station a guard outside his room and see that he doesn’t leave. He can’t be trusted, understood?”

  “Of course, Your Grace,” Rohn said. “For how long?”

  Arch Mage Westarra gave Allyn a disgusted look. “Until I know what to do with him.”

  Allyn didn’t say anything as the Elemental Guard closed in around him. He looked to the floor in disgrace, refusing to meet the eyes of the Forum or his friend as he was led out of the room.

  “What happens now, Your Grace?” he heard someone ask before the door closed.

  Arch Mage Westarra took a long, shuddering breath. “Now we prepare. Our world, and everything in it, is about to change.”

  Epilogue

  Former FBI Special Agent Richard Maddox stumbled out of the bar and vomited on the sidewalk. A pair of women dressed for a night on the town squealed and jumped back, trying to avoid getting the splatter on their high heels. They must not have been successful, because one of them cursed and gave him a violent shove that sent him sprawling across the rough concrete, scraping his hands and face.

  “Sorry,” he said, his voice slurred even to his own ears.

  “Asshole,” one of them shouted back.

  Maddox laughed. There wasn’t anything left to do—he was an asshole. Letting out a deep breath, he pushed himself to his feet, lost his balance, and grabbed hold of a nearby parking meter to keep from toppling over again. He shouldn’t have had that last shot of whiskey. Hell, he shouldn’t have had the last three shots of whiskey, but like his time in the bureau, once he got his teeth into something, he had a hard time letting go.

  “Hey, Maddox,” the bartender said from the doorway. His name was Brad, and he was both the owner and operator. “I like seeing you, man, and I appreciate the loyalty. But you gotta get your shit together.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  “You need a taxi or something?”

  “No,” Maddox said. “I’ll walk it off.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, man. Let me call you a cab.” Brad disappeared back into the bar.

  Maddox didn’t wait for him to return. He appreciated the gesture, but it wouldn’t be the first time he’d stumbled his way home. Besides, he didn’t think his stomach could take the motion of a car, and he had no intention of emptying his guts on the floorboard of some poor soul’s Crown Victoria.

  The first step was the hardest, but once he had momentum behind him, he was fine. Maddox was more than a block away before Brad realized he’d made a run for it.

  “Maddox!” Brad yelled after him. “What the fuck, man?”

  Maddox responded with a wave and kept on his way, passing a pair of motorcycle cops. If he’d been a little more sober, he might have thought about how his old self would have taken Brad up on his offer, regardless of whether or not he’d been able to maintain his composure. Walking while intoxicated, though technically safer, was still illegal in the eyes of the law. Drunk in Public, they called it, and Maddox was certainly that.

  The only saving grace was his condo’s proximity to the bar, and before he realized it, he was standing outside the entrance, one-eyeing the security console. He got it on the second try.

  Maybe the last shot hadn’t been such a bad idea after all.

  His apartment was a one-bedroom affair with a living room taken up by an oversized sectional. Grabbing a beer from the fridge, he collapsed onto the couch and turned on the television. He cycled through channels, taking a long pull from his beer, when something caught his eye. He backed up two channels and sat forward in his seat, dropping his beer onto the overpriced carpet.

  Breaking News: Terror in Germany, the caption read. The grainy video seemed to have been taken from someone’s cellphone camera, but Maddox would have recognized the man on it anywhere. In an instant, he was sober again, watching the battle between Allyn Kaplan and an unnamed assailant play out.

  For months, he’d imagined what would happen if he came face to face with Allyn again. The man had been the root of his demise. Allyn Kaplan was more than the one that got away—the man had ended his career, and for the first time since being left in a bloody mess on the highway, Maddox had a lead worth following. He didn’t have much of a plan, but he knew whatever his future held, it depended on apprehending his former nemesis.

  He picked up his beer and took it to the kitchen, where he dumped what was left into the sink. Then, grabbing a glass of water, he started planning.

  The story continues in the exciting finale…

  Exposure

  The Machinists, Book Five

  Coming Soon

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  Acknowledgments

  I made a promise when I released Martyr that I would never make my readers wait as long for a book as they did for that one, and so far I’ve made good on that promise. Go me! That wouldn’t have been possible without the help of a lot of people, but to name a few…

  There’s Tiffany, my tough-loving wife and best friend, who has draged me out of bed to write on too many occasions. Whatever curses I mumble under my breath at those ungodly hours, I promise I don’t really mean them. Or maybe I do, but I say them with love.

  Ender and Callan, who grab their computers (relics that don’t even turn on anymore) and sit down beside me to do their own “work.” It makes those lonely writing sessions not so lonely anymore. I love you to infinity and beyond and back, and can’t wait to read the stories your little creative minds come up with!

  Mom and Dad, who taught me how to dream, set goals, and work to make those dreams a reality. I could write an entire book thanking you.

  Gary and Gala, to whom this book is dedicated, thank you for your never-ending support and enthusiasm. You’ve seen early cover drafts, heard me ramble on about plot threads and character ideas, and asked good questions that helped me flesh those things out. More than that, you put up with my cantankerous ass, and that’s really saying something!

  Grandpa Kenny who continues to gift paperbacks to local libraries and businesses, and Grandma Bunny who has read them all and recommended them to family every chance she gets. To the rest of my extended family, who there’s too many to name, thank you for your kind words and continued excitement. It’s always fun to talk about this journey with you.

  Lynn and Stefanie from Red Adept Editing, who take these books and m
ake them into something coherent and readable. We’re four books into this beast now (and a novellete) with many more to go.

  And finally, thank you, dear reader. I’ve said it before, but I go to great lengths to write and produce the best books I can, always with only one goal in mind: to make your reading experience as enjoyable as possible. Without you, this budding career of mine wouldn’t be possible, and I’m forever grateful for your support. If you like these books, please consider leaving them an Amazon review and help other readers find them. Every review, every shelf-add and rating on Goodreads, and every time you mention them on Facebook or in an online forum, helps others discover this series and supports this crazy dream of mine. If we ever meet in person, please let me know you’re a fan so I can shake your hand or give you a hug (your choice).

  To everyone else, of which there are too many to name, here’s to ending this series with a bang!

  —Craig Andrews

  About The Author