by Al K. Line
But desperate times called for desperate measures, and this was something I couldn't hope to pull off alone. And besides, it would be fun.
By early afternoon I'd recruited who I needed, now it was time to put part of the plan into action. I called up Vicky and she answered on the first ring. I could just picture her sitting in my kitchen, coffee mug rings on my table, clutter and mess all around, staring at the phone whilst also typing furiously on her laptop.
"Hello?" she asked, like she didn't know it was me.
"Time to let it rip," I said, getting that familiar feeling in my belly, the knot of anticipation and excitement as the job began.
"Yes!"
I could picture her punching the air, and couldn't help but smile. Vicky really did love this stuff.
"You good to go?"
"You betcha, partner. This is going to be epic. You sure it will work?"
"No, but what choice do we have?"
"Then let's do it." I listened for several seconds, the sound of the keypad taking a beating, and then Vicky came back on the line. "All set. What now?"
"Now, my half-pint hacker, we wait. Keep me updated, text only, as I've got some stuff to do before the finale, but make it bad, Vicky, really bad. Throw everything you've got at it, and keep on doing it until they don't know what hit them."
"Roger. Over and out."
Vicky hung up and I smiled a nefarious smile.
Fucking Cerberus. They had this coming.
Bad Choices
I headed back into the city center and wandered aimlessly, wanting the closeness of strangers if not their actual company. On a whim, I called Steve, as we'd been seeing a fair bit of each other lately and I knew he was fed up after losing the work he'd assumed would be a regular thing. The rich dude he'd been working for had met a rather untimely end, and Steve, who hadn't been to blame, had been down in the dumps ever since.
I also realized that there was something missing from my plan, and he just might be the person to fill that gap.
He was keen for the company so I headed off to a pub to meet him and stood outside, cursing the heat, as I eyed the smokers reveling in their addiction, grateful for the nice weather so they didn't look like the sad gits they did when it was hammering down and they huddled together to satisfy their cravings.
I gulped nicotine-tainted air and waited for Steve, but he wasn't long.
As I saw him coming over the bridge then waiting to cross the road, I nipped inside and bought him a pint of lager and me a coffee. I was off the booze, not that I was ever a big drinker anyway. Magic and alcohol are way too potent a combination.
I grabbed a free table in the sunshine and sat, waiting for him to cross. He looked antsy, tapping his foot and constantly glancing left and right in between checking for the green man to start flashing, then hurried across the road, looking furtive and stressed.
"Man, this traffic's gonna kill me. It stinks."
"Nice to see you too," I said. "You wanna go inside?"
"Nah, it's better out here, mate. Get a clear view. That for me?" he asked, eyeing the lager greedily.
"Yep, sure is. And what's up? You look like someone's after you."
"Just the usual," he said with a shrug. Steve sat, took a long pull on the pint, which visibly relaxed him, then seemed to remember he was meant to be stressed. He glanced around, making me feel edgy too. He ran a hand through his freshly cut and styled in a disheveled way, hair, and smoothed down his waxed beard. He was typical Wild One in his fashion, and it suited him perfectly. He looked rugged, handsome, well-groomed, but manly too, although I wasn't as jealous as I used to be, probably because of the night I'd had.
"Come on, what's going on? You been up to something?" Steve, like most shifters, made a living doing dodgy stuff for people dodgier than himself, so there was usually something happening. I couldn't help but wonder if his problems were tied with what had gone down at Candy's yesterday.
"Ugh, I don't want to talk about it." Steve drained most of his pint then sank low in his chair, looking frazzled.
"You sure? You look like you do." I knew Steve, and one thing he was not, was good at staying quiet.
I waited him out, just sipped my coffee, watching the cogs turn, him weighing up whether or not to tell me. It took all of ten seconds.
"Okay, but you have to promise not to tell Candy."
"Damn, that's a big ask. You know we've been seeing each other for a while, and it's getting serious. I think. Last night, she, er, we, um..."
"Ooh, nice going, dude. She's totally out of your league, you know?" Steve grinned in that cheeky way he had, but he was just messing.
"Yeah, so I keep being told. Anyway, if this is about her, then I can't promise I won't say something. If I think she needs to know, that is." I wanted to be honest, and even debated telling him about the attack at the cafe, but it wasn't my place to talk about her business. What Steve said was up to him, I had my own set of rules I lived by.
"Okay, guess if you have to tell her then you do. But look, mate, just tread carefully. Candy's volatile, and she's smart, and she knows people, if you know what I mean?"
"Not sure I do."
"She's an important figure in our world, at least in this city. And you know we have our enemies, that we get involved in some dicey stuff."
"Don't we all?" I said.
"Haha, yeah. Remember when we met in that alley, you being chased, me saving your ass?"
"I could have handled it. And if I remember correctly, it was your fault anyway."
"Bollocks. Anyway, things are heating up. There's been some trouble, other Wild Ones trying to take over the business we usually do. Bodyguard stuff, a few other things, and I've had a few weird calls today. People accusing me of offing a few lowlifes, causing trouble, and their boss ain't happy."
"So you've got a turf war?"
"Mate, you don't know the half of it. Neither do I. These new ones, they're not like us, they're... odd. That's it, just odd. There's something about them that doesn't sit right, that freaks me out, and I've seen plenty of freaky in my time."
"What's this got to do with Candy beyond the obvious that it's messing with your business?" I asked. "Why don't you want to tell her this?"
"I haven't got to that yet. Candy's been acting secretive, there's something going on. She's hiding things from me, from all of us, more than usual. Look, I know she's smart, and a good leader, but there's something else. I hate to say it, and she'd kill me if she knew I said this, but watch your back."
I could have dismissed this as him being paranoid and worried about whatever in-fighting was going on, but I knew Steve and he was very loyal. If he thought Candy was up to something then he wouldn't have come to such a decision lightly. "Okay, I will. But come on, man, she's on the level. What do you think is happening?"
"I have no fucking idea, and that's why I'm saying. Candy's acting strange and all this crap we're dealing with is tied to it. She's denying it, not that I've pushed it. It's nothing obvious, but something is up."
I came so close to telling him about the fight, but something stopped me. I felt bad for not sharing when he was unburdening himself, but it would only stress him out more. That's what I told myself, but really it was because I didn't want anything to spoil what Candy and I had going on. Steve had already put the dampers on my happiness, and I didn't want to make it worse by having a drawn-out discussion about who the guys had been and any more conjecture about what it all meant.
I changed the subject, told him about what I had planned, and he instantly became animated. This was what I'd been hoping for, that he would be interested in a job, that he could get a crew together at short notice and help. Why hadn't I asked Candy to be in on this? Because it was dangerous and I didn't want to be responsible if anything went wrong. Would she be pissed off? Probably. Would she still be alive at the end of this day? Hopefully. And it wouldn't be my fault if she wasn't.
My stomach flipped when I thought of her coming to ha
rm. Damn, I was falling for her in a big way.
I got Steve another pint and when I returned I sat and said, "Okay, so here's what I want you to do."
And So It Begins
I left Steve making phone calls and generally buzzing. He was out of his funk and keen to get involved in some action. Action that paid well too.
With the final arrangements made, I considered going to tell Candy what I was up to then decided against it. This was my business, not hers, and I didn't want her involved in it. Just because Steve and a few other shifters were, didn't mean I had to tell her.
But Steve's words kept going around in my head. Why was he suspicious of her? What was she up to? Just shifter business, I assumed, and she was dealing with the trouble in the best way she knew how. After all, she was in charge, sort of, and just like me and Vicky, not all information was necessarily shared. Steve was a great guy, but he wasn't the sharpest pencil in the case. He liked living on the edge, getting into mischief, but he wasn't much of a planner or a thinker. He kept his life simple and it suited him just fine.
Candy was different. She led her small group because she could plan ahead, so it made sense she didn't always share information.
Hell, who was I kidding? I had to tell her what I'd asked Steve to do, as otherwise it would be like I was keeping secrets. And as I came to this realization, I discovered that I'd been walking to the cafe anyway. As I got there I saw Candy outside, turning the key in the lock and shutting up for the day. Was it that time already? Damn, I had to get a move on.
"Hey, can we talk?"
Candy whirled around and was in a fighting stance before her mind registered it was me talking.
"Whoa!"
"Damn, sorry, you startled me. I'm a little jumpy after yesterday." She pocketed the key then pulled me close and gave me a big sloppy kiss right on the smacker. Oh, it was nice, warm, and wet, and it made me forget my name or why I was here.
Candy released me and stepped back, studying me. "I thought we were skipping tonight?"
"That's what I came to talk to you about. I can't stop, got a lot to do, but I thought it best I tell you. Just so you won't get mad. Or as mad as you would if you found out later."
"Okay," she said warily. "So, spill it."
It all came out in a rush, not because I was nervous of how she'd react as such, but because I realized I'd been stalling and time was getting on. I had places to be, things to do, shit to organize. Hopefully everyone was ready to do this, but it wouldn't be much good if I wasn't there to actually get it done. I surprised myself with just how much of the plan I told her. Guess I was getting comfortable with coupledom.
This kind of thing was also new to me. I never had to explain myself to anyone, ask anyone's permission for what I did with my life, and this felt like that. Like I was asking, and The Hat didn't ask. Um, unless it was George, or Sasha, maybe Vicky. Haha, so deluded. I was controlled by women whether I liked to admit it or not.
"So, is that all right?" I asked after finishing telling Candy. Yeah, I know, lame on legs, that's me.
"Of course it is. Steve's not my minion, he can do what he wants. We sometimes work together, but I get it. You don't want me involved as it would be weird, right?"
"Right," I agreed.
"Then that's fine. But are you sure about all this? I know Cerberus have been on your back, but this? It's going to cause a lot of trouble, you ready for that?"
"Trouble's my middle name," I said, winking.
"Then go get 'em tiger."
So I did. After I gave Candy a kiss.
A Very Long Drive
"Will everyone please shut the fuck up?" I yelled, considering crashing the minibus just so I could have some peace. Right about now a nice chat with Death felt preferable to listening to another second of this bullshit.
People! Drive you nuts.
Nobody paid me the least bit of attention. Or, they did, they heard me and I knew it, but decided to ignore me and continue their bickering and nonsense.
Sisiminimus was arguing with Steve about why wizards were better than shifters, Beast was at the back pumping the portable dumbbells he'd loaded up, refusing to leave without them, even though I had to go and inflate the tires to a dangerous level to accommodate the load, and Varela and Nohr were just gabbing excitedly about being on a road trip. Their conversation seemed to involve a competition to see who could talk the loudest.
As if that wasn't enough, which it absofuckinglutely was, the whole vehicle stank. Even with all the windows down, a mixture of Beast sweat, decrepit wizard smell, and the overriding stench of rancid tuna and cheese emanating from Sisiminimus made me want to tear my nose off and poke my eyes out with skewers because they stung so bad.
Steve's band of Wild Ones, temporarily under his charge as he was the one who'd got the job, were comparing previous exploits, what they'd done, who they'd worked for, and such like, and they were incredibly annoying. I won't mention their names, as such is the way with secondary characters introduced late in stories, they were the ones who got killed first. So it would be a waste of time.
And me, I was stuck up front with something even worse than the menagerie of magically mental maniacs in the rear. Vicky.
She talked non-stop the whole drive, and it took hours. She went over and over what I'd said about it not being a good idea to live in such a large house. She stressed about the girls, banged on about how hard it was to get good staff, moaned about her brother and how she was worried about him, delighted in describing the girls' new school, whispered about the secrets Ivan had shared concerning vampires, and just to ensure my mind remained in a perpetual state of flux, with me hardly getting a single word in, she constantly tapped away on her laptop, moaned when she lost the internet connection, and kept shoving it in front of my face when the next part of my plan came together and the chaos escalated in the city where Cerberus made their home.
I have to say, that part of it went very well, better than expected. It was the only time I focused on what Vicky was saying, mostly I did my best to zone out but the unending drone of her voice bored into my head and once there I couldn't get it to leave.
The capital was in chaos. Cerberus HQ was the scene of an insane amount of activity, all generated by Vicky and the vicious rumors she'd spread via the dark web and good old-fashioned social media. Nothing like posting a load of utter lies online to garner an instant, disproportionate reaction.
Vicky had told lie after lie, claimed the people inside the building were up to all sorts of terrible things, from government conspiracies, which was true, to things too dark and nasty to repeat. She'd posted photographs. She'd given the address, she'd told people there was a rally to protest about the secretive operations directed from this place that caused untold misery worldwide, and spread more and more propaganda. By the time we were halfway there, the surrounding streets were packed with people shouting and protesting, police were out in force, many of the personnel inside had left, the heavy hitters would have definitely had an escape route just in case the building got stormed, and there were news teams everywhere.
There were aerial shots of the entire building as news helicopters filmed the chaos, revealing many Hounds hurriedly leaving under the cover of umbrellas and hoods to keep their faces hidden.
General staff were evacuated to jeers and some were even abused by the protesters, but nothing too serious happened.
The main thing was that we'd caused utter chaos, put Cerberus on the back foot, given them something to think about and deal with.
A distraction.
We'd have less to contend with, or I would, once the real plan went into action. Hounds would be absent, the building would be running in panic mode, and people like Carmichael and others of his station would be long gone, holed up in swanky safe houses somewhere in the city.
But I didn't need to hear about it every five minutes. Vicky shoved the screen under my nose once again, right as I reached for my indicator, and I swerved, almost s
ide-swiping a lorry.
"Will you please shut that bloody thing down and let me focus on my driving?" I pleaded.
"But you wanted to know what was happening," moaned Vicky.
"I said keep me updated, not shove a bloody computer in my face and make me crash and kill us all."
"It's not a computer, it's a laptop."
"Whatever, same thing."
"Is not."
"Just be quiet."
"Arthur, you're so mean."
"So don't talk to me then."
"Why do you have to always be like that? I'm doing all this work and you're just horrible to me."
"Ugh," I grunted, wondering if random noises would make her stop talking. It didn't, and the rest of the journey was made with the van bouncing as Beast exercised, fumes making everyone sick, wizards shouting about beards, Sisiminimus and one of Steve's guys having an arm wrestle, and Vicky alternating between shouting at me, moaning, or crying.
Ivan had a lot to answer for.
Here We Go
I pulled up as close as I could get, which was several streets away in a city in gridlock. The clock was ticking and we were behind schedule but I wasn't panicking, as I'd known this would happen so had kept my own schedule private. Plus, Vicky was crap keeping time so I'd got into the habit of giving myself an extra hour so I could get jobs done without rushing.
With people marching past wielding banners, shouting about injustice and the poor defenseless Welsh, yeah, she'd even got propaganda about the Welsh being made to eat leeks, their national symbol, every Sunday or receive a hefty fine—people will believe anything—we if not blended in then didn't look quite as out of place as we would under normal circumstances.
The main thing was that we would be lost in a crowd, not the focus of attention, as even with us looking somewhat odd, definitely a bunch of misfits, there were just so many damn people that it didn't matter. With everyone out of the van, and the foul air of an overcrowded city thick with the stench of millions of bodies and even more vehicles, I finally breathed. It was glorious in comparison to the van, so I let the carbon monoxide sear my lungs and gathered everyone down a side alley so we could talk above the roar of the angry crowds.
