Magic Ops

by T. R. Cameron

  “Please, eat while we converse.” He took a small bite of a vegetable and waved the woman forward from where she stood in the corner. She poured a golden liquid into crystal glasses at each of their places, then retreated.

  His guest sampled the wine and exhaled an appreciative sigh. “Excellent, as always. Your own?”

  Nehlan nodded. “From the sterro fruit that grows nearby.” In truth, it grew far away and was a nuisance to harvest and transport. However, keeping his friendly enemies in ignorance was well worth the effort.

  His guest nodded and threw an arrogant look at the humans. “I don’t know why you choose to have them in your home.” His distaste was clear.

  The elf laughed. “It amuses me to see my enemies become my servants.” He let that thought hang for a moment before continuing. “To business, however. The soldiers you contracted to eliminate the humans failed. Miserably.”

  Kergar winced and patted his lips with a cloth before he responded. “The abilities of the humans were indeed unexpected. Our people were trapped between competing imperatives—effectiveness and secrecy.”

  “They chose poorly.”

  The dwarf shrugged. “A legitimate criticism, master. However, any might have done the same. There was nothing in our knowledge of the humans that suggested the magical abilities they demonstrated. I assumed Lienne, Insela, and Giandeh would be equal to the task.”

  Nehlan shook his head. “And there is your flaw. You underestimate them at every turn. In this, you are not unique.” He stood and began to pace the room. “When we first started setting the stage for this undertaking, we sent scouts aplenty. They returned and told us we had nothing to fear. We took their words to heart and made plans based upon them—plans that took time to come to fruition. And what happened?” He raised a hand, the palm open toward the ceiling. “For the humans, the passing of time brought great change. The discovery of magic, the discovery of our artifacts, and the integration of those with power into the species. Some of our scouts started families with the humans they were supposed to watch to create hybrids with powers we recognize and some with powers we have never seen.”

  He turned back to the table and slid his hands into the waist pockets of his robes. “So, we are faced with the truth that reality is different than we anticipated, and yet we still assume humans are weak and powerless. You made this very assumption. I hope you will not make the same mistake again.”

  Kergar flinched at the threat in his tone. “You may be assured, master, that this lesson has been learned.”

  Nehlan stared at him for a long time, testing his resolve. His underling did not look away, and finally, the elf nodded. “Fine. We will relegate this failure to the past and speak of it no more.” He took his seat again, lifted his wine to his lips, and gestured at the other man’s plate. “Do eat some of the sterro. It is divine.” He ate some of his own, and the dwarf did the same. “So, then, why were your plans inadequate to stop them before they could employ their magic?”

  The lines on Kergar’s face deepened as he frowned. “You will recall, master, that I did express concern about the humans we chose to hire as our pawns, both to destroy the transport and to protect the house.”

  The elf nodded.

  “My fears were well-founded. We bought the best available, but those who are truly extraordinary have already been contracted by others seeking power and status on Earth.”

  Nehlan frowned, and rage stirred.

  Others indeed.

  They would see both worlds under their control, reserving the choicest parts for themselves. He suppressed his anger with a thin smile.

  Once the humans are dealt with, we will move into the end game, and then we will see who gets what.

  He shook his annoyance off. “This does not make us look good in the eyes of those above. Not good at all.” The dwarf finished his wine with a nod, and Nehlan waved the human servant forward to refill it. “I see only a single option at this moment. Have you seen it as well?”

  Kergar gulped half the liquid and set his wineglass down carefully. His face twisted again “Yes, master. I will have to take care of this myself.”

  “Indeed, you shall. There’s no moment like the present.” He gestured again, and the human man came to escort his subordinate back to the portal room.

  Nehlan drank his wine with a satisfied smirk. The sterro fruit was indeed the delicacy he had promised but was also a potent poison that built up in the body over time. The wines he served all contained an ingredient that delayed the onset of the poison, but when sufficient time passed, guests at his table would find their magic dwindling, consumed from within by the tiny seeds hidden in the fruit’s flesh.

  It had taken time and focus, but he’d finally found the right spells to render himself impervious to the poison—and better yet, to harness its magic to his purposes. Once the host died, the seeds would congeal and form a stone that carried the being’s power. He thought of the jewelry in the locked and warded case in his bedroom—a matching set of bracelets, rings, and a necklace that were already one-third adorned with power taken from those he’d killed. Someday, events would see it completed, and then he would truly be a force to be reckoned with.

  As he often told his lieutenants, deal with the now, but always, always keep one eye focused on the distant future.

  Kergar stepped out of the portal with a curse. “The arrogant bastard thinks he can condescend to me? Well, after these humans are dead, we’ll see what we’ll see. Perhaps his boss finds him as annoying as I do.” That idea brought a grin to his face as he opened the door from the barren back room that was his landing space and entered the main room of the bar.

  The Twisted Lizard was a dingy place, one of many fronts he had set up at the outset of the operation. A human behind the bar nodded, and Kergar whispered a word under his breath that pierced the illusion to reveal Enthan’s true features. He swept his gaze across the room, which was filled primarily with his lieutenants in disguise as well as some purely human retainers and hangers-on. He gestured at the front door and spoke a word, and the door slammed, startling those arranged at the square tables that occupied the majority of the space. The few at the bar did not react. They were his best and knew his mercurial moods well. He could still surprise them on occasion for a laugh, but more often than not, he enjoyed the fact that with them, he didn’t have to pretend—unlike with the pretentious asshole who currently made his life difficult.

  He raised his voice. “We’re in operational mode as of now, people. Our first foray was a failure due to the weakness of those we sent. It’s time for us to show these foolish governmental drones the truth of their inferiority.” He gestured to two of his lieutenants at the bar and pointed at a side door. “A free round for everyone, Enthan.”

  The room cheered as his pair of underlings closed the door behind them and cut the small office off from the rest of the bar. Kergar trudged behind the old desk and sat in the worn chair behind it.

  Worn. Everything about this place is worn. Everything about this planet is worn. It needs to be razed and created anew.

  His lieutenants sat in the equally threadbare chairs across the desk. They operated exclusively as a pair and had been with him for some time. Drisnan was the leader of the two, by virtue of his quick intellect, and was an experienced wizard. Cresnan was the muscle, a rough-skinned Kilomea who towered over his partner. Their long experience together led to an unspoken understanding that made them formidable foes.

  “It’s like we told you, boss,” the larger one said. “We need to take out the whole organization. Set up an incident—maybe blow up some buildings—and kill them when they respond.” His partner nodded, a bloodthirsty grin on his face.

  Kergar spread his hands. “I would like nothing better, believe me. But it is still too soon for the Remembrance to come to light. We must continue to move in the shadows. So, here’s a different idea.” He gestured and an image appeared in midair, a frozen moment from the battle that had claimed
Insela and Giandeh. Two humans were present, a tall man and a shorter woman. Each had displayed power during the fight, and the man had also defeated Lienne on his own. They were, in their own way, almost as considerable a danger as the pair before him.

  “Perhaps the thing to do is to attack the head and weaken the body. These two were the most effective in the battle at the house. Which should be dealt with first?”

  The mind and the muscle looked at each other and grinned. “The woman, of course.” A predatory gleam shone in their eyes.

  Kergar clapped briskly. “It is decided, then. Find her, isolate her, and kill her.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Diana was tying the final knot of her gi when Lisa finally arrived. “About time. I thought you would be lame and chicken out.”

  The woman dropped her gym bag on the bench next to Diana. “In your dreams. My chat with Steve ran long.”

  “I thought you looked a little breathless and excited.”

  Lisa laughed. “Shut up. Just because you can’t get a date is no reason to make fun of me.”

  “Like I need a reason to make fun of you.” She laughed as her friend stuck her tongue out. “So, is he proving to be everything you thought he’d be, based on his oh so used-car-salesman online profile?”

  Diana took a pair of sweatpants to the face as her companion hurled them from inside her bag in a snappy motion. “Yes, he is, thank you very much. Better, even.”

  “Have you actually been on a date with him, or are you only cyber lovers?” She raised and lowered her eyebrows suggestively.

  Lisa stopped pulling her exercise gear out and pointed a finger at her. “One more wisecrack out of you, woman, and I’ll throw something heavy at you.” She sat and pulled off the thick-heeled trendy shoes she wore. “Like this. Although it would be a tragedy to get blood on something so beautiful.”

  Diana grinned. “I’ll pretend you’re talking about my face, rather than the shoe. When will I get to meet him, so I can tell him all your secrets?”

  “That depends. Will you actually join me at the Beagle at some point or constantly turn me down? I’m sensitive, you know. I can only handle so much rejection.” She sniffed, then pretended to sob.

  “I know.” She sighed. “The new gig has sucked up a lot of time. I’ll do better.”

  Lisa donned a haughty expression. “See that you do, Agent Sheen.” She broke into laughter.

  Diana stood and slipped the blue belt around her waist, knotted it tightly, then rechecked to ensure all the other knots on her uniform were equally secure. It wouldn’t do to have a wardrobe malfunction while rolling. “I’m heading out. Don’t be long, or Jackson will make you do push-ups until your arms fall off.”

  Lisa nodded and moved notably faster.

  Jackson was crazy tall, like six and a half feet. He was proportional and built like a rower or wrestler, more for speed than power. His dark skin set off the pure white of his uniform as he exchanged words with potential clients at the front of the room. The other students milled about the padded floor and bowed respectfully before they stepped into the training area. Jackson was a traditionalist, which was one of the things that drew her to him as an instructor. The fact that he was a bona fide ball-buster and national champion didn’t hurt either.

  Lisa joined her and executed the proper bow Diana had taught her. She had warned her friend about Jackson’s sixth sense that ensured he was always aware of what went on in his school. Also, she’d cautioned that her behavior would reflect on them both and she thus needed to keep her head in the game.

  “You weren’t kidding. He is cute.”

  “He’s married.”

  “Happily?”

  Diana nodded. “And his wife’s trained for more than a decade. She’d twist your slutty ass into a pretzel before you knew what was happening.”

  Lisa smacked her. “Having a healthy attitude toward sex is not being a slut, Diana. You should try it sometime.”

  “Wench.”

  “Prude. Oh, look, he’s coming this way.”

  The students dashed to arrange themselves in rank order. Diana pushed Lisa into place and slipped into her own position farther up the line. Jackson paced in front of them, reviewed their arrangement, and nodded. He gave a slight bow, and the students returned much deeper ones.

  His voice was deep and resonant. Diana imagined it was how a tiger might sound if speaking English. “Three phases. Drills, sparring, rolling.” He gestured at several higher ranks. “Pairs will work with senior instructors. Get to it.”

  Diana grinned, shook her arms out, and stretched her neck. Her mixed martial arts sessions were one of her favorite activities. It struck her that relocation would mean she’d have to find a new instructor, but she shrugged the worry away. Surely Jackson will have a recommendation, and it’s not like DC is that far from Pittsburgh, anyway. Lisa joined her, and they moved to a corner of the room where one of the senior instructors waited.

  Her friend adopted her “serious and honest” tone. Diana had heard her use it to lie before, but not often. “I’ll try not to embarrass you.”

  She grinned. “You could never embarrass me. But if you make me look stupid, I’ll kick your ass.”

  They were still laughing together when the instructor threw pads at them. “Less talking, more punching.”

  Their mood sobered instantly, and they marched across the width of the dojo. One attacked while the other swung the target pad in position for different moves. When they reached the far side, they switched roles and traveled in the other direction. By the end of the ten-minute warm-up phase, they were both sweaty and energized and threw kicks and punches for all they were worth. Even though it was Lisa’s first time at a mixed martial arts lesson, she had some basic karate in her past, plus kickboxing for exercise, so her moves were adequate for the warm-up. When a loud clap signaled the switch to sparring, a different instructor led her away to review fundamentals.

  Diana crossed the room to where her gym bag sat against the wall and retrieved her gear. She slipped her shin and foot guards on, donned her fingerless gloves, and slid the bite guard into her mouth. There had been a time when she had been one of those who thought the mouthpiece wasn’t important, that she wouldn’t take that hard a hit. A thousand-dollar dental bill for three cracked teeth had quickly corrected her opinion on the matter. She returned to the instructor, who had found a size-appropriate opponent for her. She raised the glove and bumped fists with him. “Jonathan.”

  “Diana. What’s shakin’?”

  “Same old. You?”

  “Promotion. Moving on up.” He had been with the Secret Service for five years and wanted to be one of the goofballs who ran beside the president’s limousine. Other than that, he seemed to have a good head on his shoulders, and Diana enjoyed their bouts. He had short, black military-cut hair, a clean-shaven face, and skin the color of a quality dark beer. He was more muscular than she was but only an inch or so taller. The instructor touched each of them on the shoulder and guided them into position for the start of the round. “Three minutes, full speed, twenty percent power.”

  They launched into motion and traded kicks and punches. Jackson believed control was everything and permitted his students to spar at full speed but pull back at the last instant to avoid damaging their partner. Of course, accidents happened, but the reality of fighting without a ton of stuff weighing her head and chest down met her needs far better than wearing protective gear and full boxing gloves.

  Distracted for a moment, she caught a foot to the cheek, sidestepped to avoid most of its force, and shook her head.

  Focus, Diana.

  She tried to close with him, but Jonathan had a wicked low kick that forced her to block with every half step to avoid a painful blow to the shin.

  And getting nailed in the shin hurts like hell. Even with the pads.

  Diana growled in frustration and tried a new tactic. She timed his next kick and stepped in quickly to deliver a jab to his midsecti
on.

  He blocked it and kicked her in the shin. She hopped backward, angry at herself for not seeing the trap. If it were a real fight, she would attempt a jumping sidekick and then rely on her ground skills, but they had to stay on their feet until instructed otherwise. She threw her own low kick, and he raised his foot to block it, then pivoted to throw that foot in a weak sidekick. A sharp block and a hard push broke his balance. She managed a quick one-two-three jab to the midsection and threw a hook at his head. He ducked it and came up with a double punch to her chest that sent her staggering back.

  She distantly heard the instructor shout, “rolling,” through her battle haze. Her extreme focus on one opponent was a weakness, Jackson had told her, and inadequate should she ever find herself fighting multiple foes. She banished it with a shake of her head and saw Jonathan’s legs tense as his body leaned toward her.

  It wasn’t time slowing down but rather long training that revealed what his next move would be. A smile spread over her face. He rushed forward and grabbed at the lapels of her uniform, his plan to overwhelm her with sheer force. She levered one leg between them, planted it on his midsection, and used his momentum to propel herself backward. Diana executed a flawless Tomoe-nage, used her foot to lever him up and over, and grabbed his forearms as he tumbled past. He landed on his back, head to head with her, with a loud thump.

  Captain Kirk had the best moves.

  She spun and latched her legs around him. The landing had blasted his breath away and his defense was sluggish. In an instant, she had locked one of his arms against his body with her legs and bent the other into an armbar. She gave it the slightest pressure and he tapped his hand against his leg.