Not having a modern assault weapon suited me just fine. I had a shotgun in the truck and I had never been afraid to useit. I was shaky at the thought of a vampire fight and having trouble getting my breath, my Kevlar vest too tight. Adding new weapons would have made me shakier still.
Rick’s cell rang and he glanced at the screen. To Jo, he said, “Call Soul. Update her.” He took the call, and, from the tone, I guessed he was updating FireWind.
Jo touched her earpiece. T. Laine ran back to her desk for more amulets. I patted my vest and made sure I had extra magazines, the silver-lead composite rounds on one side, regular ammo on the other. Ran back to my cubicle for my field boots. And water. My mouth had gone dry as desert dirt. I could hear T. Laine muttering under her breath, yanking out null charms and attack amulets and healing amulets. Occam was inspecting the assault rifle, his scarred face tight, yellow-glowing eyes intent. Margot was reading a sat map.
My heart was slamming in my chest, an almost painful, hollow sensation.Humans have hearts, plants don’t.A frenzied titter of laughter tickled in my chest.
Margot said, “Picking out a staging area from satellite maps.”
“Comms on the para freq,” JoJo said, “and on our own dedicated freq.”
Rick snarled again, “Move!”
We piled into the hallway, moving fast.
“Not you, boss!” JoJo shouted.
We all stopped. Rick whirled on her, his black eyes glowing the green of his cat.
“Not you. What happens if you get spelled while your team is in the middle of a firefight?” JoJo asked.
I said, “I saw the magic in your tats. Jo is right. You can’t go with us.”
Rick cursed. Strapped on his vest. “I’m going.”
A new voice came over the speaker system and flooded through HQ so we could hear as we geared up. “LaFleur, I’ve been kept apprised of your situation.”
I looked up at the speaker over my cubicle, knowing this male voice had to belong to Ayatas FireWind, the new man over the eastern states. Rick cursed again and his eyes glowed greener.
“Jones has the right of it. You are to remain in HQ andassist her,” FireWind said, “until such time as you are urgently needed on scene. For the rest of you, SWAT has suddenly developed a keen interest. They are lead until the site is secured. If a breach is required or SWAT engages with the enemy, let them do their jobs and stay out of the way unless null magic is required. PsyLED will assume command only when the situation moves from potential armed combat to diplomatic exercises. This will occur once SWAT has secured and cleared the premises and the grounds.”
Intense relief washed through me like a flood. Tears gathered in my eyes and I blinked them away. Suddenly I could breathe. We weren’t going into a firefight alone. I didn’t know who had forced a “keen interest” into SWAT, but I was grateful.
Rick started to argue. “This is my unit.”
“Yes. It is,” FireWind said, “and I understand your frustration. But this course of action and organizational command structure was agreed upon in joint meetings this week, with acting FBI SAC of Knoxville, Shultz, and the team leader of SWAT, Gonzales. Despite our differences, LaFleur, this is not a personal attack. Should the witch targeting you begin a working during a firefight, you might present a danger to yourself and others. You willstand down.”
We had stopped dead in the hallway, halted by FireWind, his voice bare of regional accent, his words precise. “Cameras and headgear on everyone. Jones and LaFleur, I want access to all comms. Dyson, you are to stay in the unit’s van unless accompanied by another agent until the site is secure.”
“Yes, sir,” Tandy said. Rick snarled again.
I threw my gobags over my shoulder and made sure I had my headset, vest camera, cell, and tablet. The address of the Master of the City of Knoxville backed up to the Tennessee River, within two miles of the general location of the witch circle T. Laine had scried for. It was smart to keep Rick here at HQ.
I headed out and Occam raced up behind me, fast. “My car,” he said. “It’s faster than your POS.” I knew what a POS was and Occam had just insulted my truck. In other circumstances I’d have called him on it, but now I got out my shogun and two boxes of shells. I broke the shotgun open, securing it in Occam’s car for safe travel, but put the gobags up front with me.
Occam slapped the emergency lights to the dash, locked the AR-15 into place behind the seats, and we slid in. The sports car roared to life and we shot out of the lot, headlights bouncing on the rough asphalt, while I was still buckling up. The siren was piercing. We were the first vehicle out, going from zero to eighty in seconds. Cars followed us out of the parking area but fell quickly behind.
“Comms check,” JoJo said into my earbud.
“Occam. Check.” He whipped the wheel and I let the seat belt catch me.
“Ingram. Check,” I said, making sure I was on PsyLED’s dedicated frequency. The rest of the team chimed in, voices strained and tense. We were all here, all on the proper freq.
Margot said, “I have the satellite photos of the local area up. I’ve marked two likely staging areas on either side of the MOC’s property, with GPS coordinates and topography.” We were going to plan an op on the fly. This was how people got killed. That thought settled me as Occam flew around nighttime traffic.
“Got the sites up at HQ,” JoJo said. “Rick?”
Rick said, “I like the southern site. Ingram, you and I were there most recently. Do you concur?”
