A Wizard of the White Council (11 page)

Chapter 9 - Subcontractors

Anno Domini 2012

“Ha!” said Schzeran, slapping his hand on the table. “Straight flush.” He grinned, his teeth yellow in his unshaven face. “None of you has anything to beat that.”

Bronsky grunted. “Fold.” 

Dr. Krastiny leaned back in his chair. “So sure, Mr. Schzeran? Since I am a generous man, I shall give you one last chance to fold, though it is rather against the spirit of the rules.”

They sat in an unused conference room in Senator Wycliffe’s office compound. It was well past three in the morning, but the sounds of rumbling trucks never ceased. The single fluorescent light cast sputtering shadows over the walls and ceiling. 

Schzeran gaped at him. “Fold?” He muttered a stream of obscenities in Russian. 

“In English, please,” said Krastiny. Much to his annoyance, both Schzeran and Bronsky’s English remained terribly crude. Not at all professional. 

Schzeran rolled his eyes. “Fine. In English, Doctor Krastiny, sir. You don’t have anything to beat a straight flush. I’ve been counting the cards. The highest you can have is a full house. The laws of probability dictate that you must fold.” Schzeran had been a mathematician before entering the KGB.

Dr. Krastiny smiled and laid his hand out. “Royal flush.” 

Schzeran sputtered, staring at the cards. “Royal flush? That’s not possible.”

Dr. Krastiny sighed. “What did Christ say? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe? Something like that, I think. But you, my dear Schzeran, have seen and yet you do not believe.” 

Bronsky snickered.

Schzeran glared at him. “Bullshit. I was counting the cards. The queen of spades is in the discard pile. There’s no way you could have a royal flush.”

Bronsky laughed. “Maybe you don’t count cards as well as you think.”

Schzeran leveled a finger at Krastiny. “You were cheating.”

Krastiny rolled his eyes. “I am shocked by this baseless accusation. Besides, we all cheat.” They had been playing poker together for years. Cheating was permitted, so long as you got away with it. It added a new level of strategy to the game. Besides, it made for an excellent mental exercise. 

Schzeran waved his hand. “Roll up your sleeves.”

Krastiny grunted. “I find your lack of trust utterly appalling.” He rolled up the sleeves of his green sports jacket. “See? No hidden cards. Nor will you find cards hidden in my shirt, my pocket, or my shoes. Or even rolled up in the barrel of my gun.” He had used that one for years until they had caught on. 

Schzeran groaned. “Fine. Take it. You win.” He waved a finger. “But do not rest on your laurels, Doctor. Sooner or later, I will figure out how you keep winning.”

Krastiny shrugged and pulled the pot towards him. “Oh, no doubt.” 

He had affixed false labels to the fronts of several cards, disguising them as cards of a different suit. Neither Bronsky nor Schzeran had noticed the alterations. Once the pot had gotten large enough, Krastiny had removed the labels, tucked them under his watch, and claimed his prize. He figured they would catch on in a few weeks. 

Schzeran grumbled and collected the deck. “Baldy.” He elbowed Bronsky. “Your turn to deal.” 

Krastiny patted his own bald pate. “I find that rather offensive, you know.”

Schzeran snorted. “You’ve been hanging around Americans too long. You’ve soaked up all this nonsense about…what do they call it?”

“Political correctness?” said Krastiny. 

Schzeran snapped his fingers. “Yes, that’s it. Load of shit. Man’s fat, he’s fat.” Schzeran smirked and ran a hand through his hair. “And a man’s bald, well, he’s not me.” 

“Funny,” said Krastiny.

Schzeran leaned forward. “So…I hear Kurkov’s finally found a freighter for the bomb.”

Krastiny looked around. “A moment. Check the room for bugs.” 

Bronsky stood, the cards forgotten. The three men rose and scoured the room with efficiency honed by years of practice. They found no bugs and sat back down. Bronsky resumed shuffling the cards as if nothing had happened. 

“Yes, he’s finally found a freighter,” said Krastiny. “The authorities wrapped up their investigation in Vladivostok. Apparently they had quite a success. The organization lost millions of dollars.” Kurkov had been in a rage. “But the bomb was well-hidden. They never came near to finding it. It will ship out next week. For what Wycliffe’s paying for the bomb, it will make up the organization’s losses.” 

“Well, good,” said Schzeran. Bronsky began to deal.

Krastiny raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never known you to be overly concerned with the organization’s financial health.” 

“I’m not,” said Schzeran, looking at his cards. “So long as I get paid. But the sooner that lunatic gets his bomb, the better. Kurkov goes back to Russia, and we go with him.” 

“I rather partial to the United States.” 

Schzeran grinned. “So am I. All the booze I can buy. But I’m sick of that lunatic Marugon…and…Jesus, Krastiny. Those winged things, whatever the hell they are. We’ve seen a lot of weird stuff here.”

Krastiny grunted. “You haven’t the slightest idea.” Schzeran hadn’t seen Marugon transform those five men and women into nightmarish monsters. “Still, you aren’t turning squeamish now, are you?” 

Schzeran scoffed. “When have you ever known me to be squeamish?”

“True enough,” said Krastiny. 

“But…ah, hell. I don’t know what it is. It’s just not right. Not natural, you know?”

Krastiny nodded, thinking of the changelings. “I know.”

“Kurkov’s sold a lot of weapons to a lot of different people,” said Schzeran. “It’s never bothered me before. But Marugon’s…Marugon’s nuts. No, he’s more than nuts. It’s…it’s…” He pounded the table. “I don’t have a word for it, in English or Russian.” 

“I know,” said Krastiny. “Marugon’s otherworldly.”

“Otherworldly?” said Schzeran.

“Dark. Ill-fated. Ill-omened.” Krastiny looked at his cards, grumbled, and folded. 

“Yeah.” Schzeran nodded. “Yeah. Ill-omened. What you said. Hell, it’s like that man’s the devil.” 

A cold voice cut into their conversation.

“Speak of the devil, and what does he do?”

Krastiny leapt to his feet, whipping his gun from its holster. 

Marugon stepped out of the shadows in the corner, wrapped in his dark robes. 

For a moment they stared at each other, guns leveled at the black-robed shape.

Marugon’s eyes flickered over the guns. “You may as well put down your weapons. They will be of no use.”

Krastiny didn’t budge, nor did Bronsky and Schzeran. “Lord Marugon. You startled us.” Marugon remained silent. “If you’re looking for Kurkov, he had to fly to Los Angeles, to make arrangements…”

“Yes, I know.” Marugon walked to the window. Cold power seemed to hang over him like a shadow, an icy aura that made the hair on Krastiny’s arms stand on end. “I am most pleased. The delays of the last few months were interminable.” 

“Yes,” agreed Krastiny. “Senator Wycliffe is in the bunker, if you wish to speak with him.” 

“No, I do not wish to speak with Senator Wycliffe.” Sarcasm entered Marugon’s tone. “He is most preoccupied.” He turned away from the window, his eyes like bottomless black pits. “No, Dr. Krastiny, I wish to speak with you and your men.”

“Us?” Krastiny slid his gun back into its holster, and the others followed suit. “Why us? We are just hired hands.”

“Ah.” Marugon sat at the head of the table. “But you are skilled hired hands, are you not? And that is why I have come. I wish to hire you.”

Krastiny sat on the other end of the table. “Hire…us?” Schzeran and Bronsky followed his lead and sat. “We’re already hired. If you have a task for us, speak to Mr. Kurkov and …”

“I have already hired Kurkov,” said Marugon, “through Wycliffe, to procure the nuclear device for me. No, I wish to hire you directly, Dr. Krastiny.”

“Might I inquire why?” said Krastiny, mind racing. Marugon had been obsessing about that nuclear bomb for months, but lately he had been complaining about something else. “The girl. This red-haired girl you think you saw at the scholarship dinner. You want us to find her.”

“I did not think I saw her,” said Marugon, his voice cold. “I saw her, the white magic burning within her like a flame.”

“Why do you need us?” said Krastiny. “Surely Senator Wycliffe could find her with far greater ease, given his resources. And in another few weeks, he’ll have the full power of the American government at his command. He can find this girl much quicker than we ever could.”

“Senator Wycliffe,” said Marugon, “does not care.”

“That hardly seems fair,” said Krastiny. Marugon did not blink, and Krastiny shoved aside his unease. A professional maintained a cool head. “He has looked for this girl, but you’ve provided no name, no age, and only a vague description. How can you expect him to find her with such limited information?”

Marugon’s expression did not change. “Senator Wycliffe does not care because he does not understand. He has never encountered a wielder of the white magic. He does not understand the threat this girl poses. She has such potential…such strength. If she is unleashed it could ruin everything.” Marugon smirked. “But our busy Senator, he does not understand that. He spends his time with polls and analysts and his pathetic puppet President. So he has performed a few feeble searches and acts surprised when they turn up with nothing. Meanwhile he continues with his campaign for the Presidency.” His dark eyes bored into Krastiny. “Would you agree, Doctor, that this is a fair assessment?” 

Krastiny swallowed, trying to ease the dryness in his throat. “Yes. But I don’t understand. I saw you create those devil-creatures. Should they have not found the girl by now?”

Marugon scowled. “They should have. Yet she continues to elude them. Something baffles them.” His scowl darkened into a snarl. “I have come to believe that this girl has protectors.” He shook his head. “I do not understand. I destroyed my enemies, killed them all. But they were clever. Some of them must have hid from my reach. They must have found this girl, hidden her even as I destroyed them. They plan for her to challenge me one day, no doubt.” Marugon grinned a wolfish smile. “But I shall not give her the chance.” 

Krastiny watched the Warlock, fascinated in much the same way a ticking bomb would fascinate him. A half-dozen emotions had flickered over Marugon’s face in as many seconds. Was the man going insane?

And if he lost his mind, what would he do with his power?

“So,” said Krastiny at last, folding his hands, “what do you want of us?” 

“Find the girl,” said Marugon.

Krastiny shrugged. “If Senator Wycliffe failed to find the girl, and if your…creatures failed, then how could we succeed? The Senator is rich and powerful, and you…have skills that I cannot understand. My partners and I are merely men. How can we succeed where you have failed?”

Marugon leaned forward. “You are killers, no? You are hunters. You track down your prey and kill it. You enjoy it. I can see it within you.”

“With all respect, Lord Marugon,” said Krastiny, “we may enjoy our work, but we don’t work for free.”

Marugon chuckled. “Indeed not. And you do not wish to work for me, do you?”

Krastiny remained silent. 

Marugon smirked and leaned forward. “I know you despise me. What is the Earth saying? You cannot put your finger on it? Yes, that is it. You cannot put your finger on it, you cannot decide why, but you fear and loathe me.” His smirk widened. “I am most unnatural, am I not? So are the winged ones and the…others you have seen. So, you are not doubt wondering why you should work for me?”

“The thought had crossed my mind,” said Krastiny. 

Marugon leaned back in his chair. “I could compel you, if I wished. I could send the black magic into your minds and bend them to my well.” Bronsky and Schzeran began to slide their guns free. “But, fear not. I shall not. Instead, I shall offer you a deal. Find the girl and I shall pay you five million dollars. Each.” 

Krastiny blinked. “Five million dollars? Each? Does Senator Wycliffe know you’re spending this kind of money?”

Marugon snorted. “I have my own resources. Senator Wycliffe’s interests have been…drifting from my own, let us say.” His hand clenched into a fist. “So. Five million dollars each. Think of what that will let you do. You can break free of Kurkov’s organization.” He smiled. “You will not have to deal with me any longer. What do you say?” 

Krastiny wanted to refuse Marugon. But his partners’ eyes shone with eagerness. Krastiny already had his millions, but Schzeran and Bronsky did not. And the prospect of disentangling himself from Marugon did appeal to Krastiny. Perhaps he could convince Kurkov to take the same course. “All right.”

“Good,” said Marugon. “I have done some searching myself. The girl was a member of the 2012 graduating class. She was an honors student. That should narrow your search significantly.”

“True,” said Krastiny, “but that is still several thousand people.” 

“She has red hair, dark eyes, and stands about five feet and six inches tall,” said Marugon. “And you will know her when you find her.”

“Very well,” said Krastiny. “We shall start at once. When we find her, shall we kill her?” The thought did not faze Krastiny. He had killed many people in his career. Most had deserved it, but some probably had not. 

“No. You will tell me where she is. Then I will deal with her.”

“As you wish, Lord Marugon.” 

Marugon rose and left without a word. 

Schzeran grinned. “God. Five million dollars. I could buy a dacha on the Caspian Sea and retire. Or a condo in California.” 

“Yes. Well.” Krastiny sighed and rubbed his temples. “We had best get started at once. Schzeran. Can you hack into the Chicago school district’s computer system?”

Schzeran rolled his eyes. “That’s insulting. It’s a school, for God’s sake. Of course I can.” 

Krastiny drummed his fingers on the table. “Bronsky. Can you do your reporter act?” The big man nodded. “Start investigating the school system. Interrogate principals, teachers, that sort of thing. Ask about honor students. Tell them you’re doing a story on the success of the school system. The public schools in this country are such a mess, I’m sure they’ll jump at any chance for a positive story.”