INCURSION: Faeblade (Knight's Bane Trilogy Book 2)

by Bryan Donihue

  Boomer hesitated. She believed that she had her affliction under control, didn't she? There was nothing else she could do until her control was tested under real stress and combat. She spoke, trying to keep her voice calm, "I'm ready, boss. There is absolutely nothing else that I can do to prepare. I need to return to active duty sometime."

  Smith was nodding as she spoke. "I believe so, too. I needed you to believe that. Very well, you are returned to full active duty. I'm also giving you special duty. You will be the on-mission mentor for Miss Sedano. Your job is to teach her how to be a successful Section 28 agent, and to bring her home safely. She is your responsibility in the field. To that end, make sure you go with her to Logistics. I know that Norbert will have some gear specifically for her. Show her how to pre-load for a mission." Boomer nodded.

  Agent Smith then turned to the younger woman. "Miss Callahan will not be your babysitter for this mission. You were selected for this mission due to your savant-like ability to learn languages. I expect you to learn the basics for Álfein, the fae language, by tomorrow evening. Use this knowledge carefully. Do not let the faeries know that you speak their language until you have to. It will provide you a great advantage. You also know eskrima, which is very similar to the martial art that the elven warriors train in called 'muir 'leeir.' Do not forget about fion-fhuil, as Vellath will be a powerful ally."

  Smith looked at his watch and back at Dancer. "Now, Miss Sedano, you need to get moving. I understand Miss Watkins and your teammates have prepared a celebration for you tonight. Do not forget to connect with Miss Callahan and go to Logistics. You are both dismissed."

  Boomer and Dancer left the briefing room, parting ways at one of the branching corridors. They arranged to meet at Logistics later that evening. Dancer ran toward her team and celebration. Boomer walked toward her team's apartments, contemplating the heavy responsibility that Agent Smith had placed on her.

  8

  ARRIVAL

  GERALD R. FORD INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT

  The hulking C-17 Globemaster III touched down on runway 26-L at Gerald R. Ford International Airport in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Using the longer runway to roll out, the pilot reversed the thrust of all four of its engines to help slow the specially modified cargo plane to the point where the pilot and co-pilot could work the brakes.

  At the end of the tarmac, the pilot turned the jet onto the taxiway, rolling back toward the large plane parking ramp where private and corporate aircraft were parked. The jet was met by a white pickup truck with a sign that announced, "FOLLOW ME" in giant letters mounted to its roof in between two flashing yellow strobes. The truck guided the Air Force jet directly to a spot on the open parking ramp away from a row of corporate jets. Three ground crew personnel guided the plane to a stop on its assigned spot. As the four big turbines spooled down, the crew began working their post-flight check.

  Down in the passenger section of the aircraft, the members of Section 28 Team Knightmare were gathering their personal bags and stowing any travel gear they were using. Special Agent Gretchen Massey gently shook the sleeping giant nicknamed Heavy. He never moved and his loud snores barely broke their rhythm. She looked exasperated and turned toward Ghost, "I tried. He's your heavy gunner — you wake him up."

  Gretchen was the official team liaison and administrator for Knightmare. She often traveled with them, and she was responsible for arranging their travel and coordinating with Logistics when they were out on a mission. It was also her job to be available for them while they were in Langley. The team's girl Friday was twenty-four years old, and looked like the gymnast she had been in college. Her light brown skin and deep brown eyes were framed by black hair that was often pulled into a loose ponytail with tight curls escaping from the sides.

  Before Ghost could reply to Gretchen, Spooky pushed past him and said, "I've got this."

  The electronics specialist bent down until he was right next to his best friend's ear. He paused to take a deep breath, then he screamed at the top of his lungs, "OH MY GOD. IT'S VAMPIRES. VAMPIRES EVERYWHERE."

  Spooky leapt back just in time as the big man flailed his arms around in a vain effort to wake up and protect himself. His gyrations dumped him on the cabin floor, on his knees, struggling to breathe. The big man worked to open his eyes.

  Hearing his perpetual tormentor, and good friend, Spooky braying with laughter, the not-so-gentle giant turned to glare at the electronics specialist. His voice came out a barely coherent bass rumble, "Just you wait, little geek. I'll get my revenge."

  Heavy slowly picked himself up from the floor to the chuckles of the team around him. The rest of the team continued to gather their bags and then followed Gretchen through the now-open main cabin door and down to the tarmac. As the team gathered next to the plane, a black SUV sporting tinted windows and a government license plate pulled to stop in front of them. Three men and one woman climbed out of the truck.

  The man who climbed out of the passenger-side door drew a badge from his pocket and flashed it at the group. "Special Agent Stephen Lewis, Detroit SAC. Which one of you is Agent Vanhof?" Stephen Lewis was a tall African American gentleman who appeared to be in his late forties. Brown, close-cropped hair topped a thin, angular face and his brown eyes seemed to penetrate to the soul of his current focus.

  Ghost gave a small wave and reached inside his omnipresent black leather duster for his credentials. He showed his identification to the Detroit-based Special-Agent-in-Charge, the regional supervisor, and said, "Special Agent Jonas Vanhof. Please, call me Jonas. It's great to meet you Agent Lewis." The tall monster hunter reached out to shake the Detroit agent's hand.

  "It's good to meet you, as well, Jonas. Call me Steve. Although I'll admit, I was a little pissed when your boss called. I feel like a total mushroom on this one. Why are you guys here?"

  Ghost paused for a moment. He gave a small grin while he replied. "I understand how you feel. The first time I met my boss, I felt much the same way. Unfortunately, I cannot tell you why we're here. This mission is so classified that we're not even here right now. All I can say is that we're just doing what you guys are doing—trying to stop bad people from doing bad things."

  The monster hunter motioned back towards his team. "Let me introduce you to my second-in-command. Steve, this is Doctor Noelle Sorenson, and yes, she is a Special Agent with DHS as well." Doc put down her bags and shook the Detroit agent's hand.

  As the rest of Knightmare dropped their bags in a small pile near the plane door, Ghost said, "I'll introduce you to the rest of the team after they unload their gear." At that time, the Irish observer made his way down the jet's stairs and approached Ghost. The Knightmare team leader introduced the Irishman, "This is Captaen O'Beirne. Captaen O'Beirne is from Irish Army Intelligence and has official observer status with us." This got a raised eyebrow from Agent Lewis.

  Gretchen finished talking to the crew of the big Air Force jet and walked over to join Ghost and Doc as they talked to Agent Lewis. As she walked up, she stuck out her hand to shake Agent Lewis'. "SAC Lewis? I'm Special Agent Gretchen Massey. I'll be staying on site here with the transport and will be coordinating with your office. Did you get the request I forwarded for the uniformed security detail? I need DHS personnel to stand guard, not local police units."

  Lewis shook her hand. "Yes, ma'am. I did get the request and have some local agents arranging their schedules now. How long will you need site security?"

  "For as long as we're here—likely several days. I need two agents available around the clock. This aircraft must maintain its security because it acts as a mobile command center while we are in the field."

  The Detroit SAC nodded and said, "The first two should arrive on site in about twenty-five minutes, depending on traffic. My staff and I will remain until they get here." As he said this, Lewis turned toward the other agents with him and made a motion. The local DHS agents opened the back of the SUV and began pulling out their gear. Each of them removed their suit jackets and slid o
n bullet-resistant vests with the word POLICE stenciled across the back. Then each man reached in and grabbed an M4 carbine and loaded it. When they were loaded, they moved out to take stations at key points around the plane.

  Spooky and Boomer had turned as they heard the rear ramp being lowered, and they started walking toward the rear of the cargo jet. As they walked, Boomer looked at Spooky and asked, "What are we saddled with this time? I really like the War Wagon."

  The electronics specialist's grin was mischievous. "I think you'll like this one, once you get to know her. She's been designed for more covert urban ops, able to blend in better than the giant MRAP. I'm even going to let you name her—as long as it's not something goofy. Or girly."

  As they walked around the corner, Boomer paused momentarily. She was staring at... a delivery truck? Painted a dull, flat black with no external markings that she could see, it looked like a standard delivery truck.

  As the explosives expert looked closer, she noticed other small details. There was a peculiar refraction effect with the windshield that told her it was thick, bullet resistant glass. The grill guard was a much finer mesh weave than a standard grill cover over a radiator, and a push bar was mounted on the wide steel front bumper. The tires were larger, and the truck squatted a little lower than normal.

  She looked at Spooky, who was waiting impatiently. "You got us an armored bread truck?" Her voice was rising in incredulity.

  "Oh, trust me, it gets better." Spooky's grin got even wider. "Wait 'til you see the inside."

  The two agents walked up the ramp and approached the truck as the cargo master finished removing all the straps and tie-downs. Spooky pressed a button on a key fob he pulled from his pocket and the interior lights came on as an audible "thunk" echoed from both the driver and passenger door. The electronics specialist handed the fob, and the attached keys to Boomer and quipped, "It's even got keyless entry."

  Outside the plane, the rest of the team had gathered near the Detroit office's SUV. As they met and shook hands with the Detroit agents, they all heard a deep rumble as a large diesel engine roared to life. The exhaust roared for a moment and Boomer eased the new truck out of the back of the cargo jet and brought it around to where the team stood. The former race car driver let the engine idle in a low growl for a few moments before shutting down the massive engine.

  As the engine died out, Boomer climbed out of the driver's side door, grinning like a cat that swallowed a canary. As she hopped down, the demolitions expert patted the hood of the truck, "What do you think of the new Wunder Buggy?"

  Agent Lewis was the first to find his voice, "Did you guys just really drag a bread truck from Langley? We've got surveillance vans here you could have used."

  Ghost turned to him, still trying to process the new truck. "I'm sure that whatever the department has added to this, er, truck is slightly different from one of your standard surveillance vans." The Knightmare leader turned to Boomer and said, "Just what did Logistics give us?"

  Boomer was almost giddy as she answered, "The Wunder Buggy is pretty much equipped with everything like the War Wagon, but with a really cool new feature." She reached into her open jacket and grabbed a small radio. Depressing the transmit button, she said, "Pattern one, Spooky."

  The truck shimmered. As the rest of the team watched, the matte black paint job on the truck shifted in a sweep. Starting with the front, the paint color changed to a light blue, and on the side appeared the logo of a local bread distribution company. In less than thirty seconds, the pristine black delivery truck changed to a light blue delivery truck with small rust stains and some faded paint.

  Gretchen quickly stepped forward and glared at Boomer before turning back to the Detroit DHS agents. She held up her credentials to get their attention. "By order of Homeland Security and by the Signatory-status of Section Twenty-Eight of the E'Tuatha Accords, I hereby bind you from mentioning this aspect and technology to anyone who is not currently present or cleared to know."

  She turned to Boomer and growled, "We need to talk. I need you as well, Jonas." She stalked toward the stairs leading up and into the jet. Boomer looked crestfallen as she followed Gretchen. Ghost looked at Agent Lewis and shrugged, then followed. Once inside, Gretchen rounded on Boomer.

  "Just what do you think you are doing? That technology is classified. It cannot be made public, yet. And you just showed it off to the local agents and ground crew. Seriously. What were you thinking?"

  Boomer shrank in on herself. Fear welled in her eyes, and her voice quavered. "I'm sorry. I didn't even think about it. I just wanted to show off the new truck's tech. What's going to happen to me?"

  Ghost laid a hand on his young demolitions expert's shoulder. He spoke quietly and calmly, "Nothing is going to happen this time. Right, Gretchen?" He caught the agent's eye, and she nodded. He again addressed Boomer, "You need to be more cautious. When we change the paint job, make sure no one else is around. Fortunately, Gretchen caught it in time, and bound their voice under a geas so they literally cannot talk about the technology."

  The team leader turned to Gretchen, "In fact, that seemed like a pretty nasty, yet handy, geas to have available. I'd like you to teach that to me, in case we need it later."

  Gretchen nodded. She had visibly calmed down, and spoke again to Boomer, "Listen, I know I blew up at you. You made a mistake. Just don't do it again. Frankly, if you are too careless, your own geas will punish you. Are you good?" Boomer nodded. "Then let's go back out there and finish cleaning up the mess. Lewis will have questions, and I'm worried that I just screwed up any chance of having good relations with this office."

  The trio walked back outside to hear a very loud and abrasive Agent Lewis demanding answers from Doc. She stood with placating hands raised and they could see her trying to calmly talk to the irate agent.

  As Ghost hit the tarmac again, Lewis rounded on him, "What do you think you were doing? What is the meaning of that mumbo-jumbo with the badge? Who the hell are you people?"

  Ghost hesitated for a second as he decided how he would handle the mess. He still wanted, really needed, the cooperation of the Detroit office, and especially that of SAC Lewis. Catching Gretchen's eye with a warning glance, he slowly raised his hands to calm the rising flood of questions and hostility.

  When Lewis slowed to catch his breath, the monster hunter gestured to the open plane. He calmly said, "Listen, I know you have a lot of questions right now. I'm going to break protocol once with you. You will have to give certain assurances, but I believe that I can at least give you some background and explanations. I need you to understand something: everything I'm going to tell you is classified WAY above anything you are cleared for. If you let any of it slip, treason charges would be the least of your worries. Are you willing to listen under those constraints?"

  Agent Lewis froze. Ghost's calm demeanor and matter-of-fact delivery had stopped the rant cold. The mention of treason sent a chill down Lewis' spine, and the calm threat of worse consequences made him reconsider, at least briefly. The Detroit-based agent nodded.

  Ghost said, "Ok. Let's go have a chat in our transport. I know that the plane is secure. Gretchen, can I borrow you for a moment?" Gretchen nodded, and the three agents walked back toward the plane.

  Thirty minutes later, a pale and visibly shaken Agent Lewis stepped down the stairs, followed by Ghost and Gretchen. The rest of the team had already loaded their gear onto the new "Wunder Buggy" and were waiting for their leader. Lewis shook hands with Ghost and walked over to his SUV to wait for his relief. Ghost and Gretchen walked toward the truck.

  "I've booked you at a slightly nicer hotel this time around," Gretchen was saying. "It's about four miles from the airport. I've booked four ground-floor rooms, figuring Spooky will stay outside in the new truck. If you need more rooms, let me know, I'll procure them. Spooky has the coordinates of the Seelie court, and the head of the Queen's Guard will meet you there for an audience with Her Majesty."

  Ghost motioned f
or everyone to climb on board. Boomer fired up the big diesel engine, and the innocent-looking bread delivery truck moved away from the big Air Force cargo jet and toward the exit.

  9

  AUDIENCE

  SEELIE COURT, BURTON STREET SE, GRAND RAPIDS, MICHIGAN

  The house was a large, sprawling ranch-style home with a wide expanse of lawn around it. The back lawn led to private access to a small lake, and the neighbors to the east were several hundred feet away, hidden behind their own trees. To the west lay the links of a local country club golf course, and the course was separated from the property by another treeline. The gray stucco exterior and weathered metal roof made it seem as if the house had just been teleported from somewhere in Pacific Northwest. Located in a wealthier Forest Hills area of Grand Rapids, the large house was well off the beaten path. Invisible from the road, the house also sat on a ley line—a line of mystical energy and power that the Álfr, the elves, can use to open gateways to and from their realm.

  Boomer pulled up to the drive and entered. A large gentleman wearing a dark suit and sunglasses stepped out of the small shack near the road and motioned for her to stop. As she did, she noticed that his suit was just a little too large, leaving room for weapons with no tale-tell bulges. The explosives expert also noticed the radio earpiece in his slightly misshapen ear.

  "This is a private driveway. You are not welcome here." The man's voice was soft, yet projected well.

  Ghost reached into his duster and withdrew his credentials. Opening them up for the man to see, he told the guard, "Special Agent Jonas Vanhof, Section Twenty-Eight. We have an appointment to see Her Majesty Lishe ta Merunaré. We are expected."