God Hammer: A novel of the Demon Accords (15 page)

“Okay, let’s brainstorm on that for a while.  Then I gotta get together with Tanya and Galina and find these programmers.  Tomorrow, we’ll visit them if we can.”

We spent the next half hour throwing out ideas for getting on the program’s good side while I continued to deface corporate property with a marker.  Trading ideas, one-on-one with him, being taken as a full adult, after attending a board meeting and impromptu press conference, all in all, it was one of my favorite evenings of the summer.  Especially the part when we went to the airport and I tagged the corporate jet.

Having a two and a quarter-century old vampire business mogul for a mother-in-law can be treacherous, particularly during the courtship phase, but nowadays, Galina seemed supportive.

True to her word, she had found the programmers.  One was recovering at his home in Maryland; the other was still working for the NSA but currently lived right on base at Fort Meade, where the NSA is headquartered.  So after Kid Wonder did his voodoo on the Gulfstream, we filed a flight plan to Baltimore and headed south.  It was just he and I, for a number of reasons.  First, it would be a daytime trip, which made most of the vampires less than useful; second, Tanya would be holding a news conference about the corporate status to back up the off-the-cuff one I had fumbled through, so she had to stay behind.  Finally, we didn’t know what would happen when we approached one of the NSA programmers, but we didn’t want all our eggs in the same basket, so to speak.  The kid was game, so it would be just him and me.

Our flight was without incident; whether because of Declan’s wards or that Anvil chose to leave us alone, I couldn’t say.  The rental agency had a car waiting for us.  I had no sooner finished signing the rental agreement when cameras started to flash.  I had considered using more of a disguise, but Declan had thought that having the media place us in the Baltimore airport would be a potential deterrent to any government security types who objected to our presence.  I agreed, which left me smiling and waving at the paparazzi that gathered.  Declan nudged me, pointing to a little girl and her starstruck mother.  The girl was holding up a picture torn from her coloring book—it was a picture of me, holding a sword, fighting demons.  They made coloring books like that now?  The girl reminded me of a younger Toni, maybe five or six.  Declan handed me a blue Sharpie and I signed the picture, patted the girl on her head, received an enthusiastic hug from the mother, and then we escaped.  Moving quickly, we were soon out the door and into the blue Dodge Challenger that the rental service had thoughtfully brought right up to the door. Immediately, Declan began to draw runes all over the interior with a stick of chalk. 

“Is that gonna come off?” I asked.

“Yeah, I got wetnaps in my pack that will clean ’em right up.  Worried about rental charges?” he asked with a snarky grin.

“Don’t need the hassle of dealing with Lydia over damage fees.  She’s brutal on expenses,” I said.

“Being EVP of the company doesn’t count much with her, does it?” he asked, grinning.

“Not so much, no.”

Ten minutes later, we had lost the paparazzi and followed the map app in Declan’s phone to the address Galina had given us.  We turned onto the street, spotted the house, and pulled to the curb.  The Challenger’s doors hadn’t even finished shutting when six black SUVs screeched to a stop and black-suited agents with NSA credentials flooded out.

“Mr. Gordon, please come with us, sir,” one of the sunglass-wearing men in black said.  He was tall, bald, and reminded me of the main character in the movie “Hitman.” Even had a white coiled wire descending from his left ear.

We had anticipated this, Declan being of the mind that being detained by NSA, hopefully on Fort Meade itself, would either help us find out more about Anvil, or possibly start us on the path to repositioning our threat status.   Tanya had been very much against it, but Lydia had pointed out that if anything happened, they would be free to come for us and that I would have Anvil’s bane with me, in the form of Declan.  She had said, “If they’re stupid enough to bring God’s Hammer and the most powerful warlock on the planet into their little computer den of sins, then so be it.”

So when agent anonymous asked us to accompany him, we looked at each other and headed toward his car.  He held up a hand and pointed to the rental. 

“Please get back in your vehicle, sir, and follow us,” he said, no expression on his face.

We complied, although I was starting to have second thoughts.

“That’s pretty smart of them.  Isolate us inside a vulnerable vehicle.  Limits our movements and gives them a nice shiny target,” Declan mused.  He didn’t seem worried, just a bit excited.

“Any sign of Anvil?” I asked, following two ominous SUVs while four more followed me.  They all had flashing blue grill lights that effectively cut off traffic around us as we caravaned away from their pet programmer’s house.

“No, but I’m sure it’s watching and listening.”

Twelve minutes later, our little fun parade exited 295 South through an exit that said
NSA Employees only
, that message backed up by dozens of official black vehicles that lined both sides of the exits.

My second thoughts were having thirds.

“What do you think?  Will they separate us and cross interrogate, or jointly threaten us?” Declan asked with youthful curiosity.

“This is the part where we pay careful attention to everything, Declan,” I cautioned him, slightly worried at his enthusiasm.

“Oh, I am.  You should feel how much movement and energy this base has.  It’s like a focused, concentrated mini-city,” he said, his head whipping back and forth to check out everything at once.

Stacia had told me his comments about driving in the Big Apple and the power he could harness from around him.

“You could do things with it?” I asked, simultaneously watching the road and the SUV ahead while glancing at him.

“Are you kidding?  This base is like a bomb and I’m the detonator,” he said.

My third thoughts gave birth to fourths, only these worried more about the thousands of soldiers and civilians around me than for us. 

The exit ramp curved away from the highway and approached a giant black glass building sitting in the center of what looked like hundreds of acres of parking lots. 

“That’s not creepy or anything,” Declan said, looking at the shiny black cubic shape and now sounding ever-so-slightly nervous.  Oddly, that made me feel better.

The parade rolled right up to a massive, two-story triangular-shaped entrance, which was strangely clear of people.

The bald agent appeared outside our car, waiting, so we popped open our doors and stepped out.

“You want me to leave it here?  I could pull it into one of those visitor spots?” I offered.

“The vehicle will be fine where it is, sir,” he said with an even tone that still somehow managed to sound slightly aggrieved.

“Are you guys at least going to validate our parking?” Declan asked with a straight face.

“We don’t charge for parking... just for breaking federal law,” Baldy said. 

“Bah bump bump,” Declan said, miming the beats on an imaginary drum.

“Follow me, sirs,” Baldy said with the beginnings of a put-upon expression. Four or five agents followed us, but it hardly felt threatening. 

“I checked the mileage before we got out,” Declan said, speaking to the two agents who moved over to the car.  “Any joyriding and
you two
are paying it.”

We followed our escort into the mostly deserted entrance.

“I was expecting a couple of hundred armed troops or at least four or five SWAT teams,” Declan said.

“Excessive displays of overtly armed, yet ineffective personnel was contraindicated by the scenario threat analysis,” a woman said, approaching from our side.

Mixed ethnicity, mocha skin, short, tightly curled hair, smart black business suit, and an honest-to-god clipboard smothered to her chest.

“I’m Kari Viori and I’m an assistant deputy director of computer systems operations.  If you follow me, please,” she said briskly, spinning and marching away without looking to see if we were following.

Declan and I looked at each other, both shrugging, and then followed her clicking heels.  The bald agent and two others followed us.

Miss Viori led us to an elevator that took us two floors up, exiting the elevator left, and click-clacking past six doors before opening number seven and showing us into a small meeting room.  A medium-sized table with three chairs per side and one on each end, along with a large television monitor, completed the picture.  An advanced-looking wireless keyboard sat at one corner of the table.

“Please have a seat. We’ll be with you shortly,” she said.  Baldy and his two companions took up stations in the hall while Assistant Deputy Director Viori pulled the door shut, leaving us in a cream-colored room with dark blue carpeting.

Declan walked to the keyboard and held his left hand over it before doing the same thing with the wall-mounted monitor.

“Nothing.  Both shut down and isolated from any networks.  The room feels shielded, too,” he said.

“So grab a chair,” I suggested.  He pulled one out, picking up the keyboard to examine it even as he sat down.

“Don’t recognize this make at all.  No mouse or mouse pad.  I think this thing has some other kind of interface,” he mused, studying it.

The monitor lit up and words spelled out across it. 
What are you?

“Ah, Declan…” I said, pointing.  He looked at me then the screen. He mouthed the word
Anvil
, making it a question.  I shrugged.

“Humans,” he said out loud as soon as he’d read the question. “Guests, interviewees, curious?”

“Kind of blasé about this, aren’t we?” I asked, not taking my eyes off the monitor.

“You should walk around with
my
internal summer reading list. At least these strange messages are on an actual monitor,” he said, reminding me of the Sorrow book inside him.

The monitor blinked and filled with new words. 

What kind of human are you, Declan O’Carroll?

He glanced at me, puzzled.  “Aren’t you interested in Chris, too?”

Brutal Asset has already been classified.

“Brutal Asset?” he asked.

“I think AIR used that as a code name for me.  Apparently Anvil has been reading their old files,” I said.

“Is that true?  Have you assimilated records from the illegal, unauthorized agency known as Agents In Rebus?” Declan asked out loud.

The legal status of AIR was never determined.  There are no records of the original organization of that agency. 

“Really?  You give us ten tons of shit but you’re a fanboy of AIR?  Why should I answer your question?  Don’t you have access to Oracle databases?” Declan asked.

Initial file on O’Carroll, Declan classifies individual as high-level energy user with thermal and geological affinities.  File has been redacted and subclassified black level. Penetration of Oracle network is incomplete.

“They blocked you out?”

Countermeasure bypass is estimated in 27.6 hours.

“Oh.  So you should get through in a little more than a day but the suspense is killing you, huh?  Well, you already know the answer… I’m a human energy user also known as a witch,” Declan said.

No records of thermal and geologic aligned energy users with advanced cybertech applications exist.

“My computer security kung fu has you baffled, huh?  Listen, while we’re chatting, why are you, Anvil, focused on eradicating national assets?”

Still awaiting answer to original question. Definition of national assets nebulous.

“Wow, it’s really sassy, isn’t it?” Declan said.  Then I heard footsteps approaching, faintly through the soundproofed walls. The monitor went dark.

Baldy opened the door and a man in a power suit breezed in, followed by Miss Viori and a slovenly looking, chubby man in a relatively expensive blazer.  Baldy stepped into the room behind them, closing the door and taking up a parade rest position in front of it.