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

by Bryan Donihue

  This seemed to shake the team out of their reverie and they began to get busy. Heavy washed up, changed his clothes, and began to clean and oil his khukuris. Once done with that he methodically stripped, cleaned and reassembled all of his firearms. Finished, he caught some shuteye.

  Spooky opened his wrist computer and activated the active and passive sensors in the Wunder Buggy. He chose a couple options and linked the Buggy's sensor net into the sensor suite in the C-17. While he would normally be working and sleeping in the Buggy, he wanted to be in the MCC that night after the attack at the Tribunal.

  Boomer took a shower and changed her clothes, getting rid of the troll ichor. She and Dancer had a long discussion about hand-to-hand techniques, weapons and tactics, and the benefits and hazards of dating men. It was several hours later that both crashed from exhaustion.

  Scout took his time cleaning his firearms and caring for his ancestor's bow. When he was done, he sat and meditated for some time, clearing his head and communicating with the Spirits to guide his friend, Do-Right to the other side.

  Ghost and Doc had followed Gretchen into the conference, and both had been mildly surprised to see Agent Smith's face already present on the screen. It took the pair several hours to recall the night's events, from the Tribunal to the attacks afterwards. Agent Smith kept interrupting and asking pointed questions, clarifying details or questioning the pair's perceptions.

  When they finished recounting the events for a third time, Smith finally ran out of questions to ask. He sat back, steepled his fingers and thought for a moment. He looked up and leaned back toward the camera. "Mr. Vanhof, Doctor Sorenson. It is time for you to go hunting."

  25

  MOURNING

  GERALD R. FORD INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT

  At 9:30am, Gretchen closed the conference room door in the MCC. All the remaining team members of Knightmare were present, as well as Captaen O'Beirne. As Gretchen sat, Ghost stood and motioned for Spooky. The electronics specialist turned on the projector and called up a picture of their target.

  Ghost began, "Our target is hiding, but we are going to kill it. Oude Rode Ogen, or 'Old Red Eyes' as he is sometimes known is an Eastern European boogeyman. Large black-skinned male, usually seen naked. According to our records, he has glowing red eyes, and he has a really hard time hiding them. So look for the eyes. He can also shape-shift into a huge dog or wolf with black fur. He still can't hide the red eyes there."

  The DHS leader nodded to Spooky who showed a satellite overhead of Grand Rapids. "We've got two possibilities for this target. The Unseelie Court is brazen, so he may be hanging out at one of the Unseelie strongholds. We have a limited authority to search them, and we have at least two in mind today."

  The view zoomed in to show an industrial neighborhood. One building was circled. "This is the first stop for Alpha Team. We will go in, ask questions, and generally make it really uncomfortable to hide the creature. We will ALL be heavily armed, but we are not to start a fight. This is a fugitive hunt and a show of force, reminding the Unseelie that they are on our turf."

  The view switched to a different neighborhood. This one was in a rundown section of town. Even from above, the neglect of the neighborhood was apparent. Ghost continued, "This is location two. This is a known troll safe house. It's also known for a lot of the nastier Unseelie who have a hard time blending with humans. Since Arthur and Rebekah took out four trolls last night, they may get a little pissy if we push too hard. I don't care. Push hard enough to find the target."

  Yet another building flashed into view, this in a decidedly rural area. "And this is location three. This is the regional Unseelie Court. Much like the Queen's location, this is where the King and his entourage reside when they are in the area. This is our last stop, and we will have to walk this path very carefully."

  Ghost looked at Spooky and the former NSA analyst switched to a satellite view of a park. "This is Aman Park. We have unconfirmed rumors that there is a shelter here for certain Unseelie who are being hunted. It is possible that our target is here. This will be the target for Bravo Team. Go into the park and track him down. Watch your backs. You will be on his home turf, and Alpha will be a long way away."

  The team leader looked around the room and let out a sigh. He knew he would get pushback, but he had decided, and Smith and Doc had agreed that this was the best way to use his team. "Team assignments. Little G, Heavy, and Dancer will join Doc and I on Alpha. Scout will join Boomer on Bravo. Spooky, you will provide backup for them in the Wunder Buggy. We should be getting one of the Homeland Security Suburbans soon for Alpha. Questions?"

  Spooky looked up, "What kind of assets do I have access to?"

  "Agent Smith has given us full release to find this creature. It is now considered persona non grata here on our soil. So you have access to anything you want."

  Spooky smiled and tapped out instructions on his wrist terminal.

  "Any other questions?"

  Captaen O'Beirne raised his hand up to shoulder height to get Ghost's attention. "Yes, Jonas. To which team am I assigned?"

  Ghost shook his head. "I'm sorry, Callum. This has gone from a diplomatic mission to a hostile target hunt. As of today, I can no longer have you in the field as an Official Observer. Agent Smith made the call last night. I'm to ask you to fly back to Section Twenty-Eight today. If you wish to remain as a guest of Section Twenty-Eight, you can spend the time at headquarters. You can even consult from there if you want to be in on any of the conference calls. But right now, you are no longer authorized to ride with us. I'm sorry. I don't have any choice in this one—Agent Smith is calling this one."

  The Irish intelligence officer was dumbfounded, and could not respond. He eventually pulled it together and mustered as much dignity as he could. "I will comply with your Agent Smith's wishes. I will have to ask him about this particular turn of events."

  The Irishman stood. He shook hands and exchanged goodbyes with the team, leaving a lingering handshake and a heartfelt "good luck" for Ghost. Gretchen stood and walked him through the conference room door, already talking on her phone to arrange transportation.

  Once everyone was settled, Ghost again got everyone's attention. "It sucks. I know. Does anyone have any other questions about the mission today? No? Then let's get ready to hunt this creature down."

  They all stood and made their way out to the equipment and weapons lockers while Spooky headed straight out to the Wunder Buggy. Ghost was already wearing his Webley revolver in its custom holster slung low on his hip. He pulled on a soft armor vest over his casual button-down shirt and attached various bits of gear to the armor. Next was the custom communications gear that the team wore for battle. He then pulled on his long, worn leather duster and grabbed his bolero. Finally, he took his ancestral sword from its holder and held the cane in his hands.

  Doc replaced her normal soft-soled shoes with a pair of black combat boots, her lone clothing choice dictated by Section 28. She grabbed a paddle holster from her kit and slid it into the waistband of her pants. She drew her Norbert-modified tranq pistol from its case, loaded it, and slid it securely into the leather. Her radio was next, and she carefully attached the microphone and earpiece. She then placed her stole over her shoulders, careful to make sure the ends were even. Her chasuble was next, the silver and gold threads glinting. Her long rosary and cross were her final pieces.

  Little G seemed to live in his FBI tactical pants. While slightly different than the standard BDUs the rest of the team wore, he was simply used to them. He pulled on the heavy long-sleeve tactical shirt and then strapped his heavy armor plate-carrier on. His pistol belt was next, and his custom-tuned 1911 slid into the leather with a soft sigh. The former HRT sniper put his radio gear on, strapping the throat mic around his neck, and the earpiece went into his ear. He drew his modified M4 out of the weapon locker and checked the action. He slid a magazine home and closed the bolt, loading a round. Six more magazines filled various pockets on the vest, and the f
inal empty pocket got a flash-bang grenade.

  Heavy was already wearing his black tactical BDU pants and a black t-shirt. His first layer was the heavy custom-tailored armor carrier, adding eighty pounds of weight to his broad shoulders. He drew his specially blessed khukuris out of their case and slid them into the specially designed slots in the back of the armor. Next was his pistol belt and standard-issue Beretta M9. His radio was next, followed by spare magazines filling the pouches mounted to the armor. With a grin, he unlocked his weapon locker and drew out the large AA-12 assault shotgun. Reaching into the ammo bin, he drew out five drum magazines filled with a combination of silver slugs and cold-iron 00-buckshot. He paused, then reached in and grabbed two eight-round magazines filled with miniature grenades. There was no telling what they would encounter.

  Smallest of Alpha Team, like Heavy, Dancer was already wearing black tactical BDU pants and a black form-fitting turtleneck. She reached out and grabbed her Norbert-custom body armor. Once she was safely wrapped in the armor, the young woman reached for fion-fhuil, sliding the sword carrying the spirit of a dragon into the built-in sheath on the back of the armor. Next was a pistol belt, and her custom Walther P99 pistol easily clicked into its holster on her hip. She slid the radio into its own holster and tested her microphone and earpiece. She then reached up into her locker and pulled out the suppressed MP5K-PDW, which had become her personal weapon of choice. One final check over her gear and a quick re-tying of her boots, and she was ready.

  Like the others, Boomer wore her BDU pants. She was also wearing a black t-shirt, over which she slid a soft body armor vest. The vampire then pulled her black BDU shirt over the armor. She, too strapped on her pistol belt and loaded her Beretta M9. Once it was in the holster, she went put her radio on, and attached the microphone and earpiece. She then opened her weapons locker and drew out her own AA-12 shotgun. She reached in and grabbed four of the drum magazines and two of the mini-grenade box magazines. "Just in case he gets feisty," she muttered to herself.

  Scout was wearing the black BDU pants and t-shirt that was the standard uniform for the team. He knelt and removed his combat boots. The world-class archer pulled a pair of authentic Indian moccasins out of his kit and slipped them on his feet. Although they were dyed black instead of brown, the moccasins were in every other way authentic. He wanted them for slipping through the woods. He then strapped on his pistol belt, loading the Beretta and sliding it into the Kydex holster. He then grabbed his soft body armor and strapped it in place—he wanted freedom of movement today, so the heavy plate carrier was out. The BDU long-sleeve shirt buttoned over the body armor, and a Navajo ceremonial headband was wrapped around his forehead. He then strung his grandfather's blessed-bow and finally grabbed a quiver full of hand-honed arrows. He turned and saw that everyone else was ready and waiting for him to finish.

  As everyone filed past Gretchen to leave the MCC, Ghost stopped and spoke to her and Captaen O'Beirne. He wanted her to know their plans for tracking the target, so she could relay them to Agent Smith if he needed them. He wanted to thank the Captaen for his time, and to again apologize for having to send him back to Langley. The monster hunter was the last one out the door, and he closed exterior door firmly.

  The DHS leader wished Bravo Team good luck as they clambered into the Wunder Buggy. Boomer shut her door with a solid thud, and the big engine roared to life. Boomer dropped the transmission into gear and the big truck roared toward the parking lot exit.

  Ghost looked at the waiting SUV and realized that his team was ready. He quickly walked around to the other side of the truck and climbed into the driver's seat. After punching in the GPS location of the Unseelie club called Fade, he put the transmission into drive and put his foot on the accelerator. The huge V8 under the hood of the truck howled as it surged forward, following the quickly vanishing Wunder Buggy.

  THE OUTSIDE of the Unseelie-aligned club was dirty and looked like it was abandoned. Only the poorly disguised camera over the exterior door showed that there was anything in the empty building. The parking lot was in the rear of the building, and it was impossible to tell if there was anyone in the club from the front. Ghost pulled the SUV up in front of the club and parked in a no-parking zone. If the government plates didn't give the official vehicle away, the red and blue strobes on the dash and in the grill should deter any ambitious meter maid.

  Ghost flung open the driver's side door and Heavy flung open the passenger's door. As both men climbed out, the rear doors opened and Doc emerged from the driver's side, followed closely by Dancer. Little G hopped out of the passenger rear door and went around to the back of the truck. Once he opened the rear hatch, he reached in and pulled out his rifle and Heavy's shotgun, which he handed to the big fed. Dancer reached past him and pulled out her submachine gun, slinging it over her shoulder. After making sure that everyone was ready, Ghost led the team toward the front door.

  The leader of Alpha Team pounded on the metal door and then held his credentials up to the camera. A gruff voice sounded from a small intercom next to the door. "Can I help you?"

  "Special Agent Jonas Vanhof of Homeland Security and Signatory Representative of the Accords. Open the door now."

  "And what is this regarding? This is a private club."

  Ghost was getting angry, and it crept into his voice. "This is the Unseelie-aligned club called Fade. As I said, I am a Signatory Representative and I am demanding entry by the authority of the Accords, and by special dispensation from the Seanachaidh. Either open this door, now, or I will break it down and will assume that you have something to hide from the other Signatory parties, and I will tear your place apart looking for something. It is your choice. Five seconds."

  As Ghost's internal voice reached the number one, he heard a buzzing sound coming from the door. He quickly reached out and grabbed the handle, yanking the door open. One by one, his team entered the darkened building.

  As they entered, Ghost could see the inside of a modern nightclub. Even at this time in the morning, there were several patrons of varying shapes and races already, or still, in the club. The ever present club music was muted to a dull beat, likely in deference to the early hour. As his team spread out behind him, a small, rotund man walked toward them, almost waddling. As he closed the distance, Ghost could tell that he was a dwarf of some kind, likely khozten. The portly dwarf was agitated and waiving his arms, and Ghost tried to keep from laughing at the comical sight.

  "What are you doing here? This is Unseelie-aligned. Your kind aren't welcomed here."

  Heavy swung a one of his ham hock-sized fists and the rather portly dwarf and socked him in the jaw. The dwarf dropped to the ground.

  26

  TROLLS

  FADE NIGHTCLUB, MICHIGAN ST. NE, GRAND RAPIDS, MICHIGAN

  The dwarf was only out for a couple seconds before his eyes fluttered open. He looked up from the floor in a dazed expression at the big fed who had just slugged him. He shook his head slightly as if clearing away any lingering effects. The dwarf propped himself up, and then slowly clambered to his feet.

  When Heavy had knocked the dwarven manager out cold, Ghost had pushed a little of his willpower into his credentials and held them up. The sigils had glowed a sickly green as he had announced in a loud voice, "Special Agent Jonas Vanhof, Department of Homeland Security. This is an Accord matter. Your cooperation is appreciated."

  Ghost reached down and helped the dwarf stand up, "I must apologize for my friend, here. He is a little testy since one of the Unseelie Court attacked and killed his friend last night at the Tribunal."

  The DHS leader looked at Heavy, then back at the dwarf. His tone was overly friendly, "I'm sure you understand his frustration right now. I myself am a much more patient and forgiving man, but I need you to understand how serious we are. Do we have your attention, now?"

  The dwarf nodded several times, his disheveled hair flying as his head bobbed rapidly. He looked at the two federal agents in front of him and then back
around at the club. The manager of Fade realized that several of the fae in the bar had risen to their feet in his defense. The dwarf was desperately trying to figure out how to get out of this incident without tearing the nightclub apart.

  In the far corner a large creature had risen and had taken several steps toward the conflict at the entrance. As it stepped out of the shadows, the light revealed a rock troll. Larger, and reportedly less intelligent than other troll types, Ghost knew the creatures were violent and hard to bring down. He just smiled.

  The huge rock troll took one more step forward and found its way blocked by a small human female. It was puzzled. Normally small humans ran away from the troll, they did not normally interfere. This one was dressed as a warrior. Maybe she thought she could slow him down. His puzzlement turned to shock as the small human reached up and a large sword glowing a pale gold materialized in her hands.

  "I would not do that," Dancer's young voice was sharpened steel. "We bring no intention of violence, but if you take one more step, it will be your last."

  The troll looked at the blade, now pointed at his gut. It continued to glow a faint gold, and he grew afraid. Normal blades were hardly noticed as they could not usually penetrate the thick hide of the troll. Magic blades, though, they tended to cut clean through troll hide. He thought for a moment about testing the small warrior's skill, but he decided to save that for another time.

  Dancer watched as the troll appeared to weigh her words. Apparently, it had decided that she was telling the truth, as it turned and lumbered back to its table. She silently thanked Vellath for his appearance and slid the enchanted sword back into its sheath. She then walked over to rejoin Ghost.

  As she walked by, a small creature reached out and grabbed her ankle, causing her to stumble. In a flash, she was on the ground staring up at a grinning face and the point of a very sharp knife. The face was a craggily gray with a long, crooked nose, and a mouthful of sharp teeth. The creature's voice grated as it wheezed, "Not so strong now, huh little one. You need a lesson about choosing a fight with the Unseelie."