Beguiled damsel book 5, p.2
Beguiled (Damsel Book 5), page 2
Rick, her direct contact there, answered on the third ring. He’d clearly been sleeping, like a normal person would be at that time of day. She could commiserate when it came to a sudden wake up like that.
“Agent Two. What’s the emergency?” That it was one of those was pretty clear. That or she was angling really hard for a late-night booty call.
Not that there was anything wrong with the guy for that, of course. She was kind of seeing two people already however and hadn’t mentioned bringing in the balding, thin, accountant seeming fellow to anyone for that kind of thing. She didn't even know if he was married, so didn’t bother tease him about that kind of thing. She didn’t want his wife or husband feeling a need to kick her ass, after all.
“Damsel, on this end. I need a consultation with you. In person, if that works? Kind of, well, there’s possible time pressure here. I might have something interesting, or I might be a moron, calling you for no good reason. In case it’s that last one, I apologize in advance, but speaking on the phone is out.”
“Understood. I can be ready to move in five minutes. Can you meet me here? I’m at home.” He sounded uncertain, which would be about her going to his place, not her being able to do it or not. The man was actually pretty well up on what she could do, since he bothered to ask, regularly.
“Five minutes, then. I need to let some people know that I’m going to be gone for a bit.”
She was in the kitchen, and it occurred to her that leaving Al there alone, with a practicing super villain, might not be the best plan ever. Calling in a friend to watch them might not work, either. Most of her friends would probably seem like a trap, to someone who lived on the wrong side of the law. Hannah actually froze for a second, then shook her head.
She needed to wipe off her phone, before the blood finished drying, but simply found the right number and dialed directly. Agent Two from the High Command had answered after three rings, in the middle of the night. Alex Darius, the notorious businessman did it after one.
“Darius, here.”
“Alex? This is Hannah de Peyser. Can I get you to come here and babysit for a bit? It’s complicated, but I need someone watched. For her protection. Um, Red Bitch. My friend Al is here, but this is a more than one person job.” The man knew who Alistair Marks was, of course. They’d met, several times, in person.
“That does sound a bit different. I can do that, I suppose. I’ll get a car over, directly.”
She blew out a big gust of air, and swallowed.
“I can teleport you into place here? I told you about that, right?”
“You did. We can do that. I should stand first?”
How he knew to do that, she didn't know for certain, but it was totally the right call. Teleporting someone into place from a seated position meant them sprawling on the floor, unless you brought the chair, too. It was just going to hurt again, without doing anything extra.
That part of her power kind of sucked. Worse, it was the one thing that people wanted most from her. She could fly around, move decently heavy things with her mind and do a butt load of sit-ups, with no real discomfort, now. So, of course, what kept coming up was the worst part of things. Not daily, but enough so that she knew she needed to learn to get better at it.
“Thirty seconds. From… mark!”
Then she hung up, and focused, even harder than she had while trying to get Red Bitch, about fifteen minutes before. It took longer than thirty seconds, but, for some reason, didn’t hurt nearly as much, when she tried for Alex. The man, in a nice gray suit, with his jacket on and tie in place, looking hard and fit for a man in his fifties, was suddenly there with her, in the kitchen.
She gasped a bit, but wasn’t screaming this time, being ready for the shock of pain that came when bringing people to herself like she just had.
“Hannah? Are you well?”
She nodded.
“This kind of teleportation, bringing people to me, hurts a bit. I think I’m getting better at it, with practice, so at least there’s that. Al and Freya are in the bathroom, getting her cleaned up.” She made a face then and shrugged. “I know, having the seventeen-year-old boy do it makes no sense at all, but I was apparently freaking her out.”
She nearly quipped about being so scary, standing five feet tall like she did, only to have the man nod in her direction, immediately.
“I can understand her thinking there, given your history. Each time she’s gone against you, she’s rather lost. What’s the situation?”
She took a deep breath then, and shrugged.
“Red Comrade got my number from John Fawks. Red Bitch had gone missing and there had been a fight at their house, so I found her. She was being tortured, by a man named Alan Kincaid. I brought her here, to protect her, but, you know, there was that thing where they’d kind of tried to kill me a few times, so…”
The man, lean and bald, but with very blue eyes, smiled then.
“Fawks is a friend of yours, isn’t he? Interesting that he’d send them your way. It worked, so I can’t fault him for the idea. I wonder if he thought you might respond differently than you have?”
She got the idea, now that it was mentioned.
After all, she could have kidnapped the woman, and possibly even the men from the Red Trio, if she wanted, once they were brought to her attention like that. Except it didn't really make sense for John to do that at all. He played on both sides of the line, more often than not, but he also knew that Hannah could have taken them at any time. Now at least.
He was the one who had given her the power to do that, after all, so was pretty much up on the whole thing.
“No? It was probably just what it seems like, really. A guy he knew asked for help, so he went to the woman who finds people. Plus, that whole thing with killing me was mainly a misunderstanding. I took care of that already.” As in she’d found the man who had ordered it in the first place and had his entire personality changed, by aliens.
A thing she hadn’t actually mentioned to Alex, even if they were friends.
The man nodded, anyway.
“Indeed. Johan Carter is, I hear, a rather changed man, suddenly. No one was more surprised than I to find him giving away all his worldly possessions, crediting The Society with helping him become a better citizen. We spoke briefly, on the matter, in fact. He mentioned you, specifically, Hannah. In a very positive light, in fact. Indeed, he credits you with having saved him.”
She grinned then.
“Nice of him. Oh, if you know any wacked out psychos who want to turn over a new leaf, we can set that up with some very friendly aliens? If you send them, we won’t even have to rat them out to the government.” She was probably being a pill, but after a moment, the man nodded.
“I might know of a few individuals who would be willing to do that? How much will this cost?”
She reached out and patted the man on the arm. He was hard, without even flexing, when she did it. That could be that the jacket had armor in it, or that the man had hidden superpowers. She wasn’t certain which, and didn’t plan to ask.
“If they’re serious about it? I’ll cover any expenses on it. I know a man from Ryhh who’s working on some related projects and needs test subjects. It’s really safe, but he needs a cross section of humanity for a good baseline? Neary Kant? Chris’s brother.”
The words could have been lost on the man. They would have been, on a lot of people. Alex Darius simply let his chin drop a bit.
“Oh? I’ve heard some stories about him, but haven’t had the pleasure, as of yet. I should be introduced to your guest, I think?” He looked at the kitchen door, and took a step that way, even if Hannah couldn’t hear much going on as of yet. The move was a bit too fast, for a normal person.
Though she might also be imagining things. When they walked into the living room, Red Bitch stared at the bald man.
“Mr. Darius?”
He smiled up at the woman, who was wrapped in a large bath sheet, most of the blood and some of the swelling, already being gone. Alistair was about ten feet behind her, and waved.
“Call me Alex, please. Miss de Peyser needs to step out for a few moments, so asked me to come and sit with both of you? Just for proprieties sake, of course. I don’t know the plan, as of yet?”
Those words had her nodding, suddenly.
“I need to check on some things, and make sure it’s safe. Then we’ll get Freya here to a safe house. I can do that, but we don’t want to do anything over the phone, right now. I’m running a bit late, actually, so… Let me…”
She focused, but it took her over twenty seconds to set up the jump. More realistically, it took her about ten seconds to find the right location and twenty to build enough field strength for her to actually pop into place. That part, moving herself over the distance, didn’t hurt at all. There was no popping sound, or anything, though. Probably because she moved too slowly for that to really happen. The good teleporters made noise when they came in. At least Kate and Devya both did.
Hannah ended up in a modest enough seeming room. There was a sofa and a small kitchen was visible behind it, with a passthrough window arrangement. Sitting on the sofa, in shorts and a pale blue t-shirt that had a band name on it, The Electrics, was Agent Rick.
Still, being in her own pajamas, she didn’t feel overdressed.
“Hey, Rick! Thanks for meeting me.”
The man gave her a nod, seeming a bit wary.
“Of course. Now, what can I do for you?”
She took a breath, not really knowing what would be allowed at all.
“I was called in on a missing person, about an hour ago. A bit less. One of the Red Trio, Red Bitch. She’d been kidnapped and was being tortured… The plan was to kill her. So, I got her back. She’s at my place right now, with Alistair Marks and Alex Darius. I called Alex in to watch her, since, you know, I wasn’t leaving a seventeen-year-old boy there alone with her. Also, almost everyone else I know is kind of… Well, I didn’t want to start a fight, so Darius.”
Instead of gasping, the man looked at her, then smiled.
“I think I understand. So, you want help in taking her in?”
“Nope? I want to grab the man who tortured her. Alan Kincaid. I have a lot of information on him, actually.” In her pocket, on a piece of paper, she pulled that out, but Rick cleared his throat, close to instantly.
“Red Menace? You know where he is?”
She shrugged.
“Really, I can find almost anyone, and I’m betting a whole lot of them could go straight into a cage, really nicely. If, you know, I had that kind of thing? Red Comrade mentioned he was really strong and fast, though, so I didn’t want to bring him to my kitchen for a chat. If we can do that, can we hold him, do you think? I mean, if I make a grab and drop him in a cell, directly?”
Instead of answering, the man hopped up, with far too much energy, given the time of day, and actually ran out of the room, coming back about twenty seconds later, speaking into a stark black cellphone of his own. Quickly, but with a certain amount of pleasure.
“We need containment, Procedure Nu. Red Menace. Damsel is going to grab him for us, and put him directly into the cell…” There was a pause, then a laugh. “I’ll be asking? She volunteered for this one.” There was a longer pause then.
After half a minute, the man looked at her, directly.
“Agent One wants to know why you didn’t hand this over to The Society? Not that we can’t handle it. Menace is tough, but not outside of what we can deal with. She’s just curious.”
Who she was, Hannah had no clue, having never met Agent One before. Not that she knew of, at least.
“Honestly? The man was just torturing his ex-girlfriend over what sounded like petty bullshit and emo level hurt feelings. If I have it right, he plans to go for her new boyfriend next. Nothing against The Society, but we need to deal with this one in a better fashion than they might be able to handle. I’ll leave that portion to you, Rick. This guy is a for real psycho. The Society is good at things that play well in the press, but…” She didn't say what she thought the better portion of things would be.
Really, she didn't even know that The Society wouldn’t have done the same exact thing as the High Command. There was just a feeling, deep inside of her, that the lower-level group was the right set of people for the job at hand. It was probably about them wearing matching uniforms, like police, instead of colorful costumes, really. It gave them a more serious air about them.
Rick gave her a very serious look, then spoke again. He spoke in a low tone, to the person on the other side of the line.
“You caught that? Good. We’ll… When do you want to do this, Hannah?”
She tightened her mouth a bit, then shrugged.
“As soon as possible? Now, if that can be made to happen. Then I need to get Red Bitch to her safe house. Handling the real problem at hand first makes sense, right?”
She thought so. Apparently, from the nodding going on, so did Rick.
Chapter two
Hannah had been taken to a rather modern and nicely high-tech dungeon. Just outside of it, at least. Still dressed in her pink and red pajama bottoms, with no shoes or socks, and a light pink chemise style top. In short, she looked a lot like she’d just lazily gotten out of bed, to do her kidnapping and torture duties for the evening. Not that it was late any longer. It was morning now. Early in the day, but probably light outside, in Manhattan.
Not that there were any windows, standing in the basement, in front of the high security cell. One that no one even bothered to tell her about at all. Then, she didn't ask. It looked incredibly strong, but if it didn’t hold, Hannah had to figure that she was going to die, almost instantly.
Except that, before Rick even waved at her to start, nearly twenty men and women, all dressed in fake military style outfits, came into the room. They didn’t march in or anything, but did arrive as a single body. It wasn’t even everyone that she’d met there so far, though three or four of them were. Maverick was there, looking just as homely and goofy as normal, for instance.
The man probably had powers, but if so, no one had ever mentioned them to her. Before she could do anything, Rick and a good looking slightly older looking woman moved to the very front, next to her. Rick pulled her right arm, gently, so she turned to face the group along with him.
The woman spoke then, her face pretty, but gently lined. Nordic, with blonde hair, but an almost cold look in her steel gray eyes.
“Red Menace. Alan Davis Kincaid. A man on the top ten of the FBIs most wanted list. Interpol has a class Alpha designation for him… And we have Damsel, who’s about to try and teleport him into this cell. If this works, we might still have to fight, so I want everyone to ready themselves. Like we’ve practiced. Tech support, get ready. Damsel? What do you need for this?”
Hannah took a deep breath and then grinned.
“When you’re ready, it will take me about thirty seconds. I’ll put him directly in the cell. Tell me when to start.” She cheated a bit, dropping into a trance, finding the man, and starting the movement, if lightly.
Four different people, all men, moved forward then, closer to the cell wall. Each, if in a different way, took a fighting stance. Two of them pointed their hands, one had both hands out, as if to push someone, and the last man, the smallest, moved into a stance she could only think of as being what a boxer used in the ring. They formed a wall in front of her, which, even not knowing what powers they might have, left her feeling better about the whole thing. Safer.
The wall was glass, or at least clear, with a strange blue haze in lines through it, showing it was thick, if very clear. How much of it was there, she couldn’t tell. Hopefully enough. If not, they were about to find out.
One of the others, near the back, called out then.
“Ready to go, Damsel?”
It sounded official, so she nodded.
“Ready. I have the target locked. I can start the movement now.”
The same woman, spoke then, from behind her.
“Then… Begin. Thirty seconds!”
She focused, concentrating on a sense of the man being there. Inside the cell. Making that feeling grow, until he was there. A thing that seemed real to her about four seconds before he blinked into being. Unlike most of the times she’d done that sort of thing, there was no calling out, or even a gasp. Instead, there was a sudden rush, from the large man, hitting the glass. Hard enough for it to spiderweb, a massive fist connecting with a sound that was a bit like an explosion.
Everyone stiffened, but no one dodged back. At the second blow, the older woman, the one next to Rick, spoke. Her voice was calm. Almost eerily so.
“Release the gas.”
That happened instantly, a white fog filling the room. A third blow hit the glass. Then a fourth.
The same woman cleared her throat.
“Wait for it…”
The thick sheet splintered on the next blow, making a divot on the far side of the cell.
The lady moved forward, as the frantic seeming man tried to punch again. This time it was slower and didn’t connect with as much force.
“Wait for it…”
Then, suddenly, the man fell down, going to his knees. At least Hannah thought that was the case. The fog in the room, the gas, whatever it was, obscured her vision. Which got her to nod. After all, she had other senses. Things she’d learned to use, over the last months.
She focused on the large man, and realized something unusual. It wasn’t mind reading, exactly, but it was related, she had to think. Hannah didn’t get much at first, but as the man fell over, she got what was going on. He was faking it.
“This is a trick. He’s holding his breath. He’s good for about seven minutes or so. We need to wait longer than that.” Her voice was soft, since the man could have super hearing for all she knew. The person closest to her was the woman she didn't know, who gave a nod. A small one, so it wouldn’t be seen.
“Understood. No one is going in. Deploy the foam in three, two, one…” Then the woman spun and pounded on the metal next to the glass. The blows were easily as hard as what the man had been doing inside the cell. “Hey! Alan! Stand up now, or you’ll suffocate! There will be no other warnings.”
