Demon Accords 05.5: Executable (23 page)

Satisfied for the moment, I pulled back and went back to looking at our cells.

She snorted and sat down, looking at the ground in front of her.

Sitting seemed like a good idea, like a good place to study my new surroundings from.  The bars were all solid steel, the locks very high quality, all mechanical, not electric.  The floor was concrete, meters thick, if my Earth senses were accurate.  Krista’s Fire wards were solid work for the most part, but her Earth wards were minimal, almost an afterthought. I hadn’t displayed any Earth abilities during my fight with Miseri’s team or during the hours of confinement in the other cell.  So the Earth wards really were a bit of extra insurance.  There was weakness there, weakness I intended to explore.  Sitting cross-legged, arms loosely draped over my knees, I let my senses expand outward and downward, sifting around and slipping through the guardian wards.

Struggling to keep her cool, Krista slid out of the guard room and headed for the stairs.  Still shocked at what she’d just witnessed on camera, her only thought was to get outside—to leave this forsaken hole in the earth.

The boy had placed his hand against her circle and leaned on it like it was a wall. A motherfucking wall!  Circles hurt—they hurt like hell.  And a circle made to oppose your element hurt even more.  The pressure he had put on his prison with that simple gesture blew Krista’s mind.  The blonde bitch Miseri was right!  He was more, a lot more than they had thought. 

Impossible.  She knew there were plenty of witches more powerful than herself, of that she held no illusions.  But to stand there and press your motherfucking hand on someone else’s circle like it was nothing?  Unfucking heard of!  And he was a he!  Im-fucking-possible!

She threaded her way through soldiers and technicians, struggling with her thoughts but still aware of the vast activity around her.  Whatever this Brutal Asset was, it was big.  But in her world, the biggest thing was the lanky, blue-eyed boy in the cell below.  A cell she was suddenly much less sure about.

Reaching the top of the silo, she entered the command center that led to the exit.  A guard turned to her with a combination smile and frown. 

“Hey, Krista girl.  Ah, where are you headed?  The base is close to lockdown,” he said.

“Hi, Kurt.  I gotta get out for a bit.  You know, commune with nature and all that stuff.  This concrete pit wears me down,” she said, smiling back at the flirty guard.  She was well aware that Kurt wanted to get into her pants, not at all put off by her witchy nature.  Some of the guards were intimidated by her power, but most were blinded by their own male nature.  She used that ruthlessly.

“Witch stuff?” he asked, eyebrows raised.  Krista’s habit of leaving the facility for the topside forest was well known and well documented in the security logbooks.

“Exactly,” she agreed.  Actually, she needed to make a call.

“There are double patrols in the woods, with Hounds.  You might want to stay on the airstrip,” he suggested.

“Okay, thanks Kurt.  Appreciate the heads up.  I hate those Hounds.”

She wasn’t lying.  The mutated, freaky cyborg dogs that AIR had developed spooked her.  Abominations against Nature.  At least two of the video feeds on the security panel in front of Kurt came from the eyes of the Hounds on patrol. 

Shuddering at the thought, Krista proceeded up the spiral staircase of the command center and through the access tunnel.   The decommissioned Atlas F missile silo with a single missile magazine had been purchased by AIR in some sort of private transaction.  Buried deep in the New Hampshire White Mountains, it had been shut down and then sold to a survivalist type.  The buyer had attempted to turn it into a survivalist’s wet dream, an end-of-the-world redoubt that could house a large group of like-minded preppers in comfort and even luxury. After adding a private airstrip, hangar, and an attractive vacation lodge over the complex entrance, he had run out of money.  AIR had plenty of funds to convert the two-story launch complex into a command and security center, as well as add seven floors to the one-hundred-eighty-foot-deep silo.  It made a perfect research facility, easy to secure, hidden, and protected from prying eyes.  And they got it dirt cheap.

She climbed the stairway that brought her to ground level, the door opening into a pleasantly appointed vacation cabin designed and built like a ski chalet.  More guards were present up top, the cabin acting as their barracks of sorts.  Some nodded at the pretty Goth girl, some moved away, but all of them watched her. 

Ignoring the attention, she stepped out into the bright September afternoon, taking a moment to let the warm sunlight fall on her face.  The Goth thing was her current fad and it worked well with her naturally pale skin, but she wasn’t married to it.  She was, however, deeply connected to the natural world, and getting outside was vital to her health.  AIR paid her as a consultant, on loan from her Circle in Concord, and she was hoping the job would end soon.  This base, the scientists and freaky experiments, were all wrong.  Not to mention the Portal at the bottom of the silo, the one that had almost formed itself when she had painted a pentagram and circle inside the giant Lexan cube.  That had been her primary job, but she had been on hand when Agent Miseri’s request for containment quarters had come in.

Strolling down the airstrip, she followed Kurt’s advice and stayed out of the woods, avoiding the patrols.  The runway ran east-west and the western end turned into brushy fields, which, when she reached them, gave her a healthy micro-environment to enjoy and recharge in.  When she sat cross-legged on the warm earth, it also allowed the grass and brush to block her from the view of the two snipers stationed on the roof of the hangar.  The observation post there was usually manned by just one person, and they weren’t normally a sniper.  Today, Krista had seen two men with massive rifles watching through powerful scopes.  Security was definitely ramped up.

Pulling out her phone, she powered it up.  Inside the base, all electronic emissions were monitored and blocked.  Cell phones didn’t work there, but here at the far end of the runway, she could check in with her Circle.  In fact, Director Hasta had ordered her to do just that in seeking information on the young warlock.  But she felt an almost panicky need to talk to her Circle leader, Gillian.

“
Hello, Krista.  Something new?  We just spoke,”
Gillian answered.

“Gillian, it’s about the boy.  I think I was wrong… I think he’s more than we thought.”

“What do you mean more?  You said he was extremely powerful for a male?”

“Gillian, I had to move him, per the Director’s orders.  I happened to check in with the guards for the prisoner area and I glanced at the camera for his cell.  Gillian, he put his hand on the circle that
I
enclosed him in and
leaned
on it!”

“
Leaned on it?  Nobody leans on a circle, Krista. You must have been mistaken.”

“The circle turned a solid blue where his hand was.  I’m telling you he touched it a couple times, then just motherfucking held it there.  Then he pushed!  He barely even twitched.  Oh, and I’m certain he’s the son of that witch from Ireland you mentioned.  Maeve Irwin.  Twitched like hell when I mentioned her name.  I don’t think he knew about the Irwin part, though.”

“
Is he contained, Krista?”

“Yeah.  I circled him and laid down wards all through the cell.  I mean, it’s not as dope a cell as the custom one, but it’s tight!” she said, her voice extra forceful, trying to reassure her boss even as she reflected on what she’d seen.

“I will go back to my Irish friends and let them know.  No one knows where you are, so keep it that way. Got it?”

A thumping sound caught her attention, soft at first but building quickly.  It took just a second for her to identify it.

“Got it.  Listen, Gillian.  Something’s happening here… at the base.  Some big deal or another.  I gotta go, and I’ll likely be on lockdown for a while.”

“
Just as well.  Contact me when you can,”
her leader said.

“’Kay.  Bye,” she said, ending the call while watching the helicopter approach.  It was going balls out, much faster than its usual speed, and the pilot suddenly braked and landed without even his normal one-time-around-the-field orbit. 

Before the door even opened, a ground team led by the head guard rushed up to the aircraft, all five figures bent low under the still-spinning rotors.

A blonde woman stepped out of the chopper, crouching low.  She turned back to collect a small figure who was handed out the door to her. The figure appeared to be a small girl, at least based on the long brown hair fluttering in the rotor wash.  The engine wound down, but the team was already halfway back to the cabin, the new woman still holding the girl in her arms.  She looked really young, maybe seven or eight, and utterly terrified, and when her dark eyes turned Krista’s way, a cold chill ran down the witch’s spine.  Like a black cloud of doom had just crossed her vision.  It was part of her Craft, the part tied closest to Air, and the strength of the premonition made Krista’s knees weak. 

A figure appeared in the door of the cabin: Director Hasta.  He smiled at the little figure in the woman’s arms, one hand stroking his pointed goatee.  The image of a skull imposed itself over his head and the guards all became skeletons for a split second.

They were all dead, they just didn’t know it.  The girl shone brightly in Krista’s wavering vision, surrounded by figures of death.

It was the single most powerful vision of the young witch’s life, and it sent her to her knees.  For a moment, she was frozen, shocked still.  Then she started moving, turning from the cabin and moving west, rushing at first, on autopilot, in almost a blind panic to get away.  The scrubby field gave way to pine forest and she automatically slowed, her panic lessened by her increasing distance from the base.  As she entered the dark woods, the sudden quiet overrode her panic, and she stopped still.  Using all her senses, mundane and arcane, she found the nearest roving patrol as it neared her position.  Casting quickly, she wrapped herself in layer on layer of See Me Nots and Go Your Way spells.  The team moved past and she slipped by them, careful to crush a handful of ferns in her hand, sprinkling the torn, juicy fronds on her back trail as she whispered a spell to block her scent.

Twenty-three minutes later, she found the main road, pausing to pluck leaves and debris from her hair before stepping out onto the pavement.  She had her phone, her messenger bag which doubled as her purse, and the clothes on her back.  She was luckier than all the rest.

The clang of doors broke my concentration, voices and footsteps drawing closer.  The main entry door opened and Director
Hasta strode through, followed by a blonde woman I hadn’t seen before.  She was carrying a bundle in her arms, but then the bundle moved and I realized it was a little girl.    Agent Miseri slipped in behind the group, arms crossed and watching, her face an expressionless mask.  Setting the girl down, the unknown blonde looked at everything in the prison area with a slight frown while one of the guards unlocked the second gate to get into the cell area.

“This is it?” she asked, underwhelmed.

“It is secure and the deepest point in the facility.  The cells above us have been modified to hold the Kongs and Bulks.”

“Well, this looks pretty makeshift at best, but if he gets this far, it won’t matter, will it?  Who are these others?”

“The boy is a witch that we caught as part of a retrieval operation, the girl is an AIR asset… an experiment in better warfare through applied science.”

“I don’t want them near Toni! Move them if you have to,” the blonde ordered, looking from me to Caeco.  “And get Toni a blanket and pillow or something.  It’s freaking cold down here.”

Hasta glanced at a guard, who slipped out of the prison complex.  He turned back to the new blonde, his expression peeved but his manner conciliatory.   “The boy is in a circle and can’t even get near his bars, Agent Guillotine, and Caeco isn’t a threat to the girl,” he said reassuringly.  “Part of the reason she didn’t work out as a viable option.” He glanced at Miseri, who just nodded in agreement with his risk assessment.

The guard came back with a red wool blanket and a greyish pillow which he threw in a corner of the empty cell.

“What’s down that way?”  the new agent, Guillotine, asked, pointing down the row of cells.

“We have two more prisoners—a lycanthrope and a hemivore. We harvest their proteins.  So you can see that we have the expertise to handle dangerous prisoners.”

“Dangerous prisoners?  A girl from a lab, a boy witch, and two run-of-the-mill supernaturals? 
Today’s
target, your so-called Brutal Asset, destroyed the entire retrieval team, including four Juiced soldiers in powered armor! He almost got the helicopter, for God’s sake! You have no idea what a dangerous prisoner is,” Guillotine said, her tone slightly mocking.

Hasta looked insulted but he held his tongue as the woman led the girl into the cell. She stood studying the girl for a moment.  “Sorry, Toni, but I needed bait and you’re the best bait I could find.”

The girl, her right hand tugging on some kind of necklace, sniffled a couple of times and then brushed a strand of long brown hair behind her left ear as she stood straight and glared at Guillotine.  “He will come and get me.”

“I’m counting on it,” Guillotine said with a nasty smile.

The girl shook her head.  “Momma said if anyone tried to grab me again to just sit tight.  That
he
would find me and that everyone who took me would probably die.”

Again?  Tried to take me again?
  Just who was this kid?

“She said that everyone thinks they can stop him or catch him.  She says everyone who thinks that is stupid.”

“Ah, but your mother didn’t count on all of this, either, now did she?” Guillotine said, waving one hand at the facility above and around us.

“No, and she didn’t know about the guys in the metal suits, either, but he kicked their butts didn’t he?” the kid answered instantly.   Points to the kid.

The blonde frowned, then abruptly turned to Hasta.  “Show me your preparations,” she demanded.  Hasta’s eyes hardened a bit at the order but he nodded and led the way out of our little prison.  The guards followed, locking each door behind them.

When the last had left, I looked over at the little girl, trying to figure out what was going on.

“Hi… Toni is it?  I’m Declan and she’s Caeco.  We’re prisoners, too,” I said.

She studied me suspiciously for a moment, then went over and sat on the blanket, pulling the pillow onto her lap.  I looked at Caeco, but her expression was mystified, obviously not very familiar with children.

I tried to think of another approach but the girl, Toni, beat me to it.  “You’re a witch?” she asked in the same tone as if she was asking what school sport I played.

“Yeah, I guess I am, although most people would call me a warlock.  Doesn’t really matter, though.”

She looked at me with a frown, her brown eyes dark and serious.  She was about seven or eight, with dark brown or almost black hair and an obviously Hispanic background. Pretty like a doll. Her eyes were red and puffy, but for a little kid who had been kidnapped by helicopter, she didn’t appear to be panicky the way any normal kid should be.

“Mr. Chris doesn’t like witches much.”

“Who is Mr. Chris?” I asked.

“He is my godfather, and he’s coming to get me.  Him and ‘Sos and probably Miss Tanya and all the other Darkkin.”

“Darkkin?”

“You know… vampires,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Your godfather is a vampire?”

“No, that’s silly.  Mr. Chris isn’t a vampire.  Miss Tanya is, though.  She’s pretty much the queen. At least, that’s what momma says.”

“Ah, excuse me, but what do you know of Darkkin, child?” a new male voice asked.  Must be the vampire, Charles.

“You’ve been listening.  You heard what I said.  My godmother is Miss Tanya.  Well, not really.  My aunt is my godmother, but Miss Tanya thinks she is and momma says not to hurt her feelings.  Um, you might know Miss Tanya.  Her full name is Tatiana Demidova and she’s, like, your queen,” the kid answered, not bothering to raise her voice.

My brain was seriously boggled by the fact that this kid was comfortable enough about monsters from folklore to understand their acute senses.

“You are claiming that Tatiana Demidova is your… godmother?” Charles asked in disbelief.

“No, weren’t you listening? She
thinks
she’s my godmother.  See, her Chosen, Mr. Chris, really is my godfather.  So Miss Tanya naturally decided that she was therefore my godmother.  She knows about my aunt, but she doesn’t really care.”

“Whoa, I’ve heard of this Demidova chick.  She’s a big deal, isn’t she?” the werewolf, Frank, asked.

“You have no idea,” Charles answered, his voice droll.  “The child is correct in stating that she is, in most ways, our queen.”

“How will your godmother find you, Toni?” I asked.

“She’ll follow Mr. Chris and ‘Sos.  They can always find me, and I know they’re on their way,” she answered, fingering her necklace.  Her little hand opened a bit as she did, and I got a good look at the pendant.  I took a step back at the sight of it.  Not that it was shocking-looking or anything.  A silver colored bear, standing on its back legs, paws outstretched, eyes made from some kind of red stones.  It was the ultra-sharp, high definition view I had of it, so clearly defined that it almost warped my vision.  It swam into my sight like a camera had zoomed in on it.  The bear was a magical artifact of some kind.  I had no idea what it did or how it operated, but I could see it was scary powerful.

“Ah, that’s a nice necklace, Toni.  Who gave it to you?”

“Mr. Chris.  This is Oh-kwa-lee.  As long as I have this on, Mr. Chris and Awasos can find me.  And Mr. Grim.  Actually, it’ll be Mr. Grim who comes first.  You probably should be careful when Mr. Grim gets here. 
He’s
scary!”

Like a vampire godmother wasn’t?  I couldn’t keep up with all these people and names.

“Who is Mr. Grim, Toni?” Caeco asked.

“He’s Mr. Chris, but he isn’t,” she said, frowning at her own answer. “Momma says he’s part of Mr. Chris and he comes out when Mr. Chris gets mad.  Or when people are mean to
me.
  Momma says he’s the most dangerous bean on the planet.”

“Bean?” I asked.

“Yeah, like human bean,” she explained as if I was stupid. 

“Being.  The word you mean is being,” Caeco corrected.

“Are you sure?  I think it’s bean,” Toni said, unconvinced.

“Wait, wait.  Are you saying he’s like a split personality or something?” I asked, trying to keep the conversation on point.

“Momma says he’s a purse-ownna.”

“Persona?” Caeco asked.

“That’s what I said,” the girl answered, exasperated.

“Young lady, is your godfather Christian Gordon?” the vampire, Charles, asked suddenly.

“Yes.  Mr. Christian Gordon,” she answered, pulling her knees up to her chest.  She was wearing shorts and a pink shirt, both dirty, as were her knobby knees.

“You’ve heard of him?” Frank asked.

“Yes, and I imagine you have, as well.  He is the individual who wiped out Loki’s Spawn, pretty much by himself.”

“
That
guy?  Holy shit!” Frank answered.

“Can this guy really do this?  Find her and rescue her?” I asked.

“I don’t know him personally, but I have heard stories from people who do know him.  I would tell you that he has defeated everything that’s been thrown against him including the Elders of the Coven and eight hundred deranged weres.”

“What is he?” Caeco asked.

“Nobody really knows.  Perhaps the child knows.”

“Toni, do you know what Mr. Chris is, if he’s not a vampire?” I couldn’t believe I was asking a seven year old about vampires.

She sniffled a little, looking down at her lap.  When she lifted her head, I could see her brave front had crumpled.  Tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Ah, Toni, don’t cry.  It’ll be okay,” I said automatically.  I didn’t actually think things were all that great, but you don’t tell little crying kids that.

“I just want my mom.  I don’t want to be here. It’s gonna be so scary!  I don’t like all the explosions and fire and stuff,” she said.

So what
do
you tell a kid who expects to be rescued from an evil lab by somebody who kills eight hundred weres by himself?  She apparently wasn’t afraid of
not
being rescued, but was afraid of the rescue itself.

“Hey, have you ever heard of Chuck Norris?” I asked, totally out of my element.

“Really?  You’re really gonna tell her Chuck Norris jokes?” Caeco asked, exasperated.

I shrugged, but Toni perked up, wiping away tears.  “Jokes are good.  I like jokes,” she said.  “Oh, and I don’t know what Mr. Chris is.  But Momma says he’s my personal Guardian Angel.”