by Jake Bible
“Yes,” Ducheré said and turned her attention to the hustle and bustle of DEX agents outside our offices. The numbers had quadrupled and it looked like the whole block had been cordoned off. “The blood ghasts have not been isolated to Asheville.”
“Ghasts?” I said.
“Great,” Harper sighed. “How many we talking about?”
“There have been fourteen incidents so far over the past two weeks,” Ducheré said. “All occurring at vortex points.”
“Vortex points? Nowhere else? Only the extradimensional portal cities?” I asked.
“Yes. Anywhere there is a Grand Hex in place,” Ducheré said. “The first was in Taos, New Mexico, followed closely by Santa Fe. Then Austin, Eugene, Burlington, Madison, and so on.”
“You said fourteen,” Harper said. “There are only twelve portal cities in the US. Have the attacks gone global?”
“No. There were three attacks in the Bay Area,” Ducheré replied. “San Francisco, Berkeley, and Oakland.”
“Oakland? I have a cousin in Oakland,” Lassa said. “I should call him and make sure he is okay.”
“Your cousin is fine. The attacks were very specific targets.”
“Specific how?” I asked, gesturing with my hand to get the show on the road. She was taking way too long. “Cut the build up and get to the story, lady.”
Ducheré bristled at the lady comment, which was my intent, but after a quick glare she continued.
“The targets were all confidential informants for the DEX. We have at least one in each area where there is a vortex point. As you know, despite the extradimensional happening only being a decade old, there are humans, and other beings, that have been aware of the portals for much longer. My department has made a point of cultivating those people and beings as CIs so we may know when and where threats may occur. Staying on top of this situation has not proven to be easy and we have needed every resource at our disposal.”
“You feed the rats,” Harper said. She held up the goblin sickle, which was sparkling clean. “You should have seen this coming. Snitches get stitches, no matter the dimension.”
“Yes, I have become painfully aware of that,” Ducheré replied. She pointed at the sickle. “That blade of yours. I would very much like my lab back in DC to—”
“Not a fucking chance in Hell, chica,” Harper snapped. “I have a friends and family policy when it comes to this baby. You ain’t either.”
“I am,” Lassa said. “I got to hack the blood ghast. It was way fun, dude.”
“You are an interesting group,” Ducheré said. “I should have looked harder before I chose my CI for Asheville. Your organization would have been a much better choice.”
“Because . . . ? Who’s your CI here?” I asked. “Can’t be a low life like Chappy or any of the lesser scumbags.”
“Why do you assume it would be a scumbag, Mr. Lawter? Helping your country against extradimensional threats should be seen as a patriotic duty, not as a sellout by common thugs.”
“Snitches. Stitches,” Harper said.
“That,” I said and gave a nod to Harper. “Not a scumbag or low life, so . . .”
It hit me fast and hard. Hard enough that the realization made me jump a little which made everyone else jump a little. I saw comprehension dawn on my friends’ faces.
“One Guy,” I said with a snarl. “Of course. It always comes down to that asshole when shit hits the fan around here.”
“Yes, well, be careful throwing stones,” Ducheré said and nodded at our shattered front window. “Glass houses and all that, Mr. Lawter. Black Box Inc. has quite the reputation for being at the center of its own shitstorms.”
“You have been talking to Willitz too much,” I said and shrugged. “But you’re probably right.”
“I certainly hope that by shitstorms, you mean we have taken on and completed very difficult jobs, leaving only satisfied clients,” Sharon said.
“Yeah, Shar, that’s exactly what she meant,” Harper said, the sarcasm so thick it was almost painful.
“No need for snark, Harper,” Sharon said and fetched herself another jar of pig’s blood. Sharon was getting her drink on.
“Your reputation for completing your jobs is solid, Ms. Spaglioni,” Ducheré said. “But, even you must admit there has been collateral damage on more than one occasion. Mr. Lawter’s lady friend for example.”
“Yeah, and me,” Travis said. “I used to be a live shapeshifter, not a ghost shapeshifter.”
“Hush, you,” Lassa said.
“Fuck this,” Travis said and winked out.
Ducheré stood up, seriously pissed off. “Carlyle!”
An agent appeared at the window almost instantly. “Yes, ma’am?”
“This office was to be locked down!”
“It is, ma’am.”
“Then how was a ghost able to get out through our hexes?”
I felt bad for Carlyle. Not too bad, but the guy obviously had no idea how to answer that question. He sputtered for half a second.
“Travis is a shapeshifter ghost killed while trying to fulfill a life debt to me,” I said. “And he was killed by Daphne, the Fae godmother, so hexes may be a little wonky with him.”
“Chase, don’t call her the godmother,” Harper warned. “She’s still alive out there somewhere and hates that term. Let’s not push our luck right now, okay? Can you do that for me? Not jinx us?”
“Power of the jinx, dude,” Lassa said.
“My bad,” I said. “But what else would you”—
“Daphne,” Harper said. “Everyone knows who you are talking about when you say Daphne. No other describers needed. Daphne.”
“Ms. Kyles is correct,” Ducheré said. She waved her hand and Carlyle bailed fast. “Daphne is sufficient to describe the head of the Fae. Even if she is currently in hiding.”
Harper stiffened and glared at Ducheré. “Any of your CIs know where she might be? That’s some intel I could use right now.”
“I’m afraid I have not made myself clear,” Ducheré said. “When I said there were fourteen blood ghast incidents, I should have said that the blood ghasts had assassinated fourteen of our CIs. The One Guy is all that remains at large currently. We had more than one in several of the larger metropolitan areas and they are currently in a safe and secure location in Washington DC. Which is where your organization comes in.”
“Goddammit,” I grumbled. “Don’t ask. Do not say the goddamn words.”
“I am sorry, but what am I missing here?” Sharon asked. “What are we being hired for exactly?”
“To move the One Guy to DC,” I said. I held up my hands and Dim smoke swirled in my palms. “Using something safer and more secure than anything the DEX has. You want me to put the One Guy in a black box.”
“As far as we know, nothing can penetrate one of your Dim creations,” Ducheré said. “We would appreciate your cooperation in safely transporting the One Guy from Asheville to Washington DC. Of course, your organization will be compensated per our subcontractor rates.”
“I will need to see those rates before we agree,” Sharon said. “And there are expenses to consider. If we’re to use one of our”—
“We will provide the transportation,” Ducheré interrupted.
“Hold on now,” Lassa said. He sat upright and was all business. “If word gets out I’m using government transportation then the Teamsters are gonna get testy. You’re asking a lot for us to risk our contacts with the trolls.”
“Yes, we are aware of your relationship with the various extradimensional unions,” Ducheré said. “I can have the Department of Labor smooth over any issues that might arise. Will that be sufficient?”
“Oh, yeah, sure, no worries,” Lassa snorted. “What could go wrong with a
government bureaucracy negotiating with a labor union?”
“Oh, dear,” Sharon said.
“If I can guarantee that there will be no blowback from this job in regards to the Teamsters, or any other union, will you consider allowing the DEX to use your services?” Ducheré asked.
I smirked. “This shit has you scared.” The smirk stopped almost as fast as it appeared because I realized something. “Because you don’t have the first goddamn clue as to who’s summoned the blood ghasts, do you?”
Ducheré’s lips pressed together hard enough that they went almost white. Considering her complexion, those were some tight lips. After a moment she relaxed and sighed. “Take the job and I will tell you everything I know.”
“You already said openness was the best policy yet I’m still having to pull answers like teeth from you, lady,” I said.
“Take the job and all non-classified intel is yours,” Ducheré said.
“Not good enough.”
“That is the best offer you will get, Mr. Lawter. I cannot reveal classified information to civilians. I cannot reveal classified information to anyone without proper clearance.”
“Then get us clearance.”
That statement hung there for a long time. A long time.
Finally, Ducheré stood and smiled at Sharon. “Thank you for the coffee. I am sorry we could not come to an arrangement. If you change your mind, please contact me immediately. There will be another blood ghast sent to Asheville and I do hope your conscience can handle the repercussions of that.”
“If the One Guy ends up blood ghast food then I’m all good,” I said.
“Yes, well, the blood ghast didn’t go for the One Guy at the Raven’s Perch tonight, did it, Mr. Lawter? It went for you.” She nodded and left, picking up her stasis ward along the way. As soon as she was out of the office, she called to her agents and they began packing up.
“Chase,” Lassa said. “This ain’t good, dude.”
“Yeah, I agree with Lassa,” Harper added.
“Shitstorms . . .” Sharon mused.
I sat there thinking as the DEX agents loaded their gear and left, leaving us with a shattered front window and a whole helluva lot of questions.
“Goddammit,” I muttered.
“She gone?” Travis asked as he blipped back into existence right next to Sharon, who screamed and nearly fell out of her chair. “Sorry about that. Still figuring out the controls on this new existence.”
“What’d you find out?” I asked.
“A good amount,” Travis replied. “Get comfortable.”
“Nice,” Harper smiled.
“Wait, what? I missed something,” Lassa said.
“You and me both,” Sharon said.
“Hey, I’m all about helping out,” Travis said. He waved his ethereal hands around his body. “I’m all this until I satisfy my life debt to Chase.”
“Debts,” I corrected.
“Debts. Whatever. Anyway. You’re gonna love this.”
10.
WE LISTENED TO Travis and digested what he had to say. Harper may have fetched at least two more bottles of rye. But no matter how much we drank, I don’t think any of us got more than a buzz. Travis’s revelations were sobering, to say the least.
“I must say I am not comfortable with Travis breaking and entering into the local DEX offices,” Sharon said. “That could be considered treason or espionage, or treason and espionage. Not only could we lose our business, but end up in federal prison for the rest of our lives. I’m a zombie and the rest of my life is a very, very long time. Same with Lassa.”
“Relax,” Travis said. “I wasn’t detected. You saw how I could come and go from here without triggering any hexes.”
“They have surveillance equipment,” Sharon insisted.
“Harper?”
Harper picked up her phone and took a couple pictures then shot some video. “Nope. He doesn’t come up. Cleaner than a vampire.”
“Trust me, Sharon, I’ve been testing what I can do,” Travis said. “And I asked Chase if it was cool. He said to go for it.”
“You did? He did? When?” Sharon exclaimed.
“Chill out, Shar,” I said. “Travis raised an eyebrow and I gave him a wink and a nod. It was all said there.”
“I am not comfortable with informal communications like that,” Sharon sighed.
“Shar, you need new panties, because you aren’t comfortable with much of anything,” Harper said. “Loosen that zombie girdle and trust us to do our jobs.”
“Technically, Travis does not work for Black Box Inc., so technically he does not have a job,” Sharon snapped.
“Opposite of chilling out, Shar,” I said. “Okay. Everyone take a breath. In then out. Legality aside, employment aside, what Travis found out sucks balls. Some faction, group, cell, whatever has butchered an entire kobold royal family and is using the parts to summon blood ghasts. We need a plan to deal with this.”
“Gonna have to be a really good plan, dude,” Lassa said. “If Travis is right then we’re talking a lot of blood ghasts. No bueno.”
“And we do not know the faction involved?” Sharon asked Travis. “There was no mention of suspected groups?”
“There was a list as long as my . . .” He gave Lassa a wink. “Arm.”
“Cute,” Harper said. “Keep your arm in your pants, ghost stud.”
“We’ll want a copy of that list,” I said.
Travis tapped his temple. “All up here. I’ll write it down.”
“Any names stand out?” Sharon asked.
“A few,” Travis replied. “Mostly extradimensional governments that Earth has diplomatic issues with.”
“Oh, dear,” Sharon said.
Harper shrugged. “Not so bad. Extradimensional governments are exactly like all the governments on Earth. They are constantly playing the espionage game. We stay out of it, and don’t officially take a side, and we’ll be fine.”
“Except we’ve been asked to work for the DEX,” Lassa said. “That’s gonna get out, Harp. It’s not officially taking a side, but it’s close. Why aren’t you more worried?”
“I worked for the Fae for most of my life,” Harper replied. “Human governments are considered amateurs. No one will take the DEX involvement seriously. If we’re careful, we’ll come out fine.”
“Especially if there are no records of you being hired by the DEX at all,” a voice said from the shattered window.
“Shit,” I said. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in protective custody or something?”
“Oh, I am,” the One Guy said as he floated through what was left of the wall, across the barrier hex, and stopped next to me. He waved his hands over his body. “This? Simple astral projection hex. It is temporary, so I would appreciate it if you listened to my proposal.”
I glanced at my coworkers. No one objected.
“Fine. What is your proposal?”
“I would prefer to remain alive,” the One Guy said. “But I would also prefer it if Black Box Inc. didn’t become a pawn for the DEX. That kind of work tends to mar one’s usefulness for future jobs. And Black Box Inc. could be very useful to me at some later point. Once this blood ghast business has passed.”
“Spit it the fuck out,” I snapped. “What do you want?”
“I will hire you at twice your normal rate to get me safely to DC. As much as I hate to spend that amount, I am fond of staying alive, so I believe the expense is worth it. And, by hiring you myself, your name stays off the DEX ledgers. We both win in this scenario.”
“We win more if we stay out of it.”
“Chase, old friend, you know you’re already in it. The blood ghast attack tonight was proof of that.”
“
And transporting a DEX CI makes shit safer for us how?”
He stared at me like I was some simple child that asked why the sky is blue.
“Do you honestly believe I play for one entity only, Chase? You know me. That would be shortsighted on my part, not to mention flat out stupid and bad for business. You get me to DC and I can guarantee I’ll not only get myself out of this mess, but that Black Box Inc. will be taken off the board, as well.”
Harper growled and the One Guy held up a hand.
“Bad choice of words. I don’t mean taken off the board as in killed, but as in you will no longer be used as pawns. Neutral parties, all of us.”
“Care to explain how the hell you think you can do that?” I asked. “Or better yet, why you haven’t done that already? “
“I have my reasons, Chase.”
“One of those reasons may be that I had a kobold head in a box and now that I’ve used it, it’s no good to you? You’re out of kobold parts and need my Dim to save your ass until you can get comfy in DC and manipulate the people you have dirt on. Am I close?”
“As always,” the One Guy said then shifted his focus to Harper. “I assume you are working on a plan to keep us all safe on the journey?”
“No us yet, asshole,” Harper said.
“May I ask a couple of questions?” Sharon said. “Why are the DEX CIs being killed at all? If Harper’s assessment of human governments being considered amateur is true then I do not see what threat these CIs pose.”
“I’m guessing not all dimensions think Earth is completely innocuous,” I said. “At least one or two CIs were a threat.” I eyed the One Guy. “Or are still a threat, because they are passing on real deal information to the DEX. That information gets leaked from the DEX and viola, you have an intel problem.”
“Oh, I see, yes.” Sharon nodded. “And since CIs are listed in the DEX’s system, it is less risky and easier to kill the CIs than to ferret out and kill the government leaks.”
“Go to the sources,” I said, once again eyeing the One Guy. “Or source.”
