It says something about trust and friendship when none of them outright disbelieved me. A few startled and suspicious looks, of course, but no disbelief. Seraphina nods slowly.
“I saw a change in you when you entered the room. What happened?” Reach into my pocket and bring out a small, roughly egg shaped object and set it on the table.
“This is a copy of the after action report, with my notes for the last bit added on at the end. Luis, get the lights please.” Brief smile. “Oh, and officially none of you have seen this, OK?” Mutters of assent from round the room as the lights go down and the holo flickers to life on my command.
"This section of the report starts from the moments before we enter the main hall.” All Operatives are wired for vision and sound, some, like me, with implants, some with external gear. Everything is transmitted directly to Demon Central live, as it happens. A wise precaution, given how few Operatives made it back from this one in any fit state to talk. The after action reports are put together by a team of moonlighting editors from one of the Bollywood studios, in return for the use of some of the footage in the low budget demon flicks that have become all the rage in recent years. I constantly expect a song and dance number to start up when watching them – but that is just me.
See the doors crash to the floor, first glimpse into the main hall, crawling with demons. The people here watching gasp, a couple of stifled screams. How the fuck did we survive that?!
Well. Most didn't.
Watch the replay. See Hong, Franco and Suilien blasting demons back to hell left and right. One actually grabbed me and was banished just as its jaws started to close on my head. I don't even remember that, though it explains the bruises on my shoulders. Watch myself racing ahead, cutting through demons like wheat, only pausing to make sure each is actually dead. Flash shoots ahead of me, hamstringing demons, tripping them and blinding them, making them easy targets for my blade. My hand drops to caress her ears. She licks my hand, then returns to watching the holo with interest. She has an eternal supply of steak waiting in my quarters, as far as I am concerned.
It freezes. The Reaver is looking at me, starting the gesture that will create a portal. I am looking slap bang into the Reaver's eyes. Don't try this at home kids. It is a great way to lose your soul. Or to make a mind to mind connection you would rather forget, but never can from now until death. My voice takes up the tale.
“His mind is cold. Empty. Below an animal's, there is nothing in there but reflexes and hate. And memories. The memories of the void are painful – too twisted to understand. Won't even try, it is not a place for us to comprehend, never mind be comfortable with. But I see the portal opening. The man on the other side chanting to bring me through. His face blurred by the protective wards, keeping my claws from his tender flesh. And I hear his commands. Call others to yourself. Nest. Kill. Move away from danger using this spell.”
Luis raises the lights. Everyone looks stunned, drained. A couple of people, veterans of demon encounters though they are, have actually thrown up where they sit.
Ronnie, predictably, speaks first. A crusading, charismatic, journalist, hunting for the proof that demons were hypnosis, or animatronics, or camera tricks, who got caught in the wrong place at the wrong time and found out just how real they are. Pain separated the ghoul's head from its shoulders, just before it's jaws separated Ronnie from this mortal coil.
“Shit, man. You volunteered to go into that?” He shudders. “I always knew you were nuts, but didn't think your death wish was quite that bad.”
Marta stands. She is not tall, but her presence still fills the room. Looks around, then speaks, quietly as if it was the two of us talking after a hard day.
“Felix. I have talked to all your friends that you invited here. We all here owe you our lives. Our love. Our souls. You need us now. Tell us what you need. We will do it.” Nods around the table.
“Old friend, I have some things which may help.” Enrique, my gadget making friend. Probably my oldest friend – we were in the same workshop when I killed my first demon. He is a natural genius, give him half a dozen readings of a phenomenon and he'll design a machine to detect it – or to reproduce it. “Give me some more readings and a few hours and there will be more.”
“Thanks, old friend. I knew you could come up with something.” I flick a record chip over to him. “Everything we have on the wormhole the Reaver opened. Being able to track him may be useful, no?” He nods absently, chip already plugged into his glasses, displays opening in front of his eyes.
“Hans, Ronnie. Going to need a good pipeline to the weird shit that never gets reported.” Hans works in internal security for the western hemisphere. He is also still happily married with both children living, thanks to me. He nods gravely. He'll do his part. So will Ronnie, though he'll probably want an interview as payment afterwards. Exclusive, of course.
The next pair give me pause. James raises a hand roughly three times the size of mine and makes a dismissive gesture. “You want our contacts and information?”
“And maybe the loan of the unlicensed wormhole the Family undoubtedly don't have.” James looks uncomfortable.
“For you, don, it is possible.” Brent smiles and nods. “No charge of course, and clean up as needed, on your request.” Don't even ask how I got the Family owing me favours, the story is far too long. But they do,and I'd be an idiot not to use every advantage.
“I am hoping that there will not be much clean-up needed, Don Brent. But it is reassuring to know that discreet services are available at need.” I half nod, half bow. Respect costs nothing and means everything in this case.
“Marta, Luigi. May we headquarter here? It would be convenient for us to have a central meeting place fairly close to the Free State.”
“Of course. This room will be reserved purely for this group.” Luigi says gravely. “Why close to the Free State, though?”
“I couldn't see the summoners face, as I said. But I recognised the robe he was wearing. A Cardinal's robe.”
"Oh, that is bad. Very bad.” Luis recovered first. “All the training, teaching and admonitions against seeking personal power …” He looks like he is about to cry. Brent hastily crosses himself.
“It explains some things.” Seraphina, speaking surprisingly strongly for one used to hiding. “There are imposed blank spots in your mind. Things that you simply never think about, because you can not. I believe at least one person with access to preparing the educator tapes must be involved.”
Nod. It makes sense. “First order of business for myself and Luis, as the only ones who have had that procedure is to get these blind spots out of our minds. Can you do it?” She considers briefly, then nods reluctantly.
“I may do no harm to others. Removing them may harm you, but greater harm will come from leaving them. We will need quiet for several hours for each of you.”
Luis shudders. “You first, Cat. I shall have to explain to Margareta. That will take a while.” I am not the only one terrified of her, that much is obvious.
“Yeah, I want to bring her in on this, she would be useful.” Brent raises an eyebrow questioningly. “Not all the way in, but she is a captain in the Free State Guard.”
He considers, then nods. “A valuable ally. With the lady's permission …” a sketched bow to Marta “I will have some associates come and repair the telephones here. Secure communications are of such importance in this sort of operation.” He winks at Hans. Hans looks sheepish. I didn't know they had crossed swords before, though I should really have expected it.
“Now, we may need some more, shall we say, legitimate muscle.” Brent continues.
I smile. “That will not be a problem. I have been invited to go fishing with an old friend of my fathers. He should have no problem in quietly sending a reaction task force on a training exercise or two, should it become necessary.”
“Good. Then we may only need one other thing. Sadly, I have no skilled personal problem removers, and am reluctant to involve the branch of the Family that do.” Ah.
Hans gives a snort of laughter. “I think you'll find that Cat here has covered that. Unless Marta was referring to a different Sergei.” James' face lights up. “You know THAT Sergei?”
“We have assisted each other once or twice.” The voice from the back of the room makes them all jump. Including me, and I had spotted him slipping in through the dumb waiter shaft. He has that effect on people. Flash pads over, sniffs him and licks his hand in greeting. Professional courtesy, one pure predator to another. Sergei offers a service, a very specialised service. If you can convince him that a specific person is better off not polluting the planet with his presence, he'll quote you a price. Meet it, and the target is dead within a week. Even the security services use him from time to time, as a way of quietly removing embarrassments with no official involvement. All so sad, he was far too young to die, a state funeral, and crisis averted. And Sergei disappears again. Until next time.
We grip arms. He mutters, voice pitched only for me, “It must be bad, or you'd not have called for this much back-up. Not to make your day worse, but I just received a contract inquiry this morning. Hit target – you.”
“You accept it?” Try to keep my voice light around a sudden dry tightness in my throat.
“No, I have some standards.” he chuckles, “But I have not yet rejected it. It might be useful for us to find out who wants the remaining Demon Killer dead, and badly enough to offer five million dollars, nyet?”
I nod. “Got a place to stay? I assume you can get into the Free State easy enough – there is a spare set of keys in my jacket, with a guide rod attached that will lead you to my quarters. Spare rooms are made up ready, and the housekeeping staff have been warned I may be having guests.”
“Spasebo. I will accept your hospitality with thanks.”
Something is nagging me. Can't put my finger on it. Something about …. oh holy fuck!
“Luis!! Call Margareta, NOW! Tell her to send a full security squad to the enhancement wing of the clinic. Not one person is to enter or leave without my express permission. That includes medical staff.”
“But wha ...” he trails off as a look of horror passes across his face, and almost knocks himself out switching on his implant. The others look on in bewilderment.
“The trainees.” My voice is cold. “Four newly qualified Hunters. And all of them currently helpless in hospital beds. Easy targets.”
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