Page 12 of A Touch of Treachery
He started to go down into the hole, but I grabbed his arm, stopping him.“No, Bryce might have booby-trapped the passageway.We can’t follow him.It’s too risky.”
Frustration filled Desmond’s face, but he nodded.Together, we stood there staring down into the hole.
Bryce was gone, along with whatever he’d stolen.
CHAPTER FIVE
CHARLOTTE
DesmondandIwerestill staring down into the manhole when a couple of black vans screeched to a stop in front of the building.The doors slid back, and several men and women wearing black tactical clothes and helmets and sporting an assortment of weapons jumped out.The Section 47 strike team had finally arrived.
The strike team members ran up to the building, pushed through the revolving doors, and streamed into the lobby.Once it became apparent the danger was over, they quickly lowered their weapons.
The fire alarm had cut off several seconds ago, but instead of exiting the building, most people had stayed in the lobby.Several folks were looking around, clearly confused, while others had their phones out, filming everything that was happening.
The strike team leader hurried over to Desmond and me.We told her what had happened, and she stabbed her finger in first one direction, then another, ordering her agents to secure the scene and set up a perimeter around the open manhole.
“Come on,” Desmond said.“There’s nothing else we can do here.”
I sighed, then followed him out of the garden, across the lobby, and over to the reception desk.
Footsteps clacked against the floor, and a sixty-something woman wearing a scarlet pantsuit and black stilettoes entered the lobby.Her short black hair was styled in an attractive pixie cut, and her body was lean and muscled.A small gold pendant shaped like the letterGglimmered against her golden skin, and a pair of red reading glasses was tucked into the front pocket on her jacket.
Gia Chan was the cleaner supervisor, which made her one of the most powerful people in Section 47.She was also one of the few folks who knew Desmond and I had been assigned to track down Henrika Hyde.
Gia’s dark brown gaze flicked around the lobby, moving from the strike team members to the milling crowd before finally landing on Desmond and me.Her mouth flattened out into a thin line, and she strode over to us.
“Well, this certainly went wrong in a hurry,” she said.“I’ve already gotten three calls from members of the board of directors, wondering why there was such a public incident at what is supposed to be a secure, discreet Section facility.”
I winced.“I’m sorry.I thought my plan would work.This is all my fault.”
Gia shrugged, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.“Perhaps.But all we can do now is manage the fallout and spin the story.”
She snapped her fingers, and a woman in a gray pantsuit who’d entered the lobby with the strike team members turned around.Gia tilted her head to the side, where a large group of people had gathered by the café.The woman nodded, then went over to the curious onlookers, flashed a badge at them, held up her hands, and started speaking.
“...an unfortunate prank ...disgruntled worker ...no property or other damage ...”
She recited the usual Section 47 disinformation, and warm ripples of magic flowed off her body right along with her calm, soothing voice.The woman was a charmer, someone with magical charisma that could be used to subtly manipulate people’s emotions, like easing an anxious crowd.After a few seconds, all the people started nodding in time to her words.
The charmer would spin the same lies to the mortal authorities when they arrived.In addition to tracking down criminals, another one of Section 47’s missions was to make sure the general public never realized that people with magical abilities were living among them.
Most paramortals wisely hid their powers, so as not to be ostracized, targeted, used, abused, or exploited, but others weren’t so cautious, and plenty of videos were floating around the Internet that showed combustos liquefying metal or transmuters turning concrete blocks into piles of dust with their bare hands.Still, despite all that damning footage, most folks didn’t believe paramortals existed, and they chalked up such displays to magic tricks, deepfakes, or artificial intelligence.
The charmer kept talking, although many folks got bored and either headed toward the elevators to return to their offices or stepped into the café to get another coffee.
Sneakers scuffed on the floor, and a thirty-something man wearing a green button-down shirt over neatly pressed khakis came over to us.His short brown hair and bronze skin gleamed under the lights.Square black glasses perched on his nose, and he was carrying a padded laptop case in the crook of his elbow.
Diego Benito, one of Section 47’s tech geniuses, nodded at Gia, then focused on Desmond and me.His dark brown gaze lingered on the green stains on my hands before flicking over to the similarly stained briefcase, which I’d set on the reception desk.Diego’s nose twitched, as though he’d gotten a whiff of the acrid smoke that was still clinging to the case, and me too.
Gia stabbed her finger at the laptop Bryce had used.“I want to see the security footage.Everything that happened after Charlotte left the lobby with Agent Berriston and Desmond followed the other thieves down to the Vault.”
“That’s when our comms went out,” I said.
Gia nodded.“That’s when we lost eyes on you too.One second, I was watching you both through the lobby cameras.The next ...”Her voice trailed off, and she flicked her fingers.“Poof!No more security footage.”
“I tried my best, but someone locked us out of the system,” Diego muttered.“That won’t happen again.”
Anger sparked in his eyes.The computer whiz had been stationed with Gia and the strike team, and he didn’t like being beaten at his own game.
