14. The Fast and the F.U.R.R.I.E.S. [part II]

23 9 20
                                    

«Get your hands in the air! Your hands in the air, now!» commanded a stern, female voice right behind the rifle in Banshee's face.

Still disoriented by the spell – and by the fact of still being alive - the three followed the orders, rising their hands up. Then, they started to get a bearing of their surroundings.

They were right above, slightly left, the gash in Perch Street. No cars or pedestrian were anywhere to be seen, there was a quite large black van on the opposite side of the road. There were five women standing on three points around the gash. Four of them held out what looked like mirrors, while the fifth one had a old-fashioned scepter that looked right out of a medieval painting, emitting a white ray of light that bounced between the mirrors, forming a dome over the gash. A dome under which a rumbling noise and suffocated orange light came a different intervals.

In front of them there were four other women, with assault rifles pointed at them and the look of someone who knew perfectly well how to use them. They wore what looked like futuristic uniforms, of black, lucid material with long blue parallel lines along legs and arms, and a red symbol embroidered on a small pocket on the heart. Il looked like nine fangs.

«How's the explosion?» asked one of the four women, a black-haired one with a sporty bob and stern black eyes.

«Almost perfectly contained Lieutenant.» answered a Chinese woman around the gash.

«Very well. You three, start moving. And no funny business. Your tricks don't work with us.» she added, moving the rifle's barrel to signal the trio to move towards the van.

«Wait, wait, who the hell are ye? Are we being arrested? 'Cause if we are, I didn't hear any Miranda!» protested Banshee.

«And you won't. Because yes, we're arresting you, but as you must surely have noticed, your crimes aren't exactly courthouse material.» a voice that had something familiar reached them from the van. The driver's car door opened slowly, and a tall, Amazonian figure with chestnut hair got down with a dull tapping of high heels. The woman now walking towards them with elegant strides didn't wear the other's black suits, but a tasteful dark blue pant suit that accentuated the perfect curves of her tall body. She stopped between her colleagues and lowered her eyes on the three, particularly on one of them.

«That's such a pity.» she said, faking regret. «It's true that the best ones are either taken, gay or...» she caught Chico's eyes in hers. «...Mages.»

She let go of a little laugh at the shock in their eyes.

«My my. You have no idea what's happening, haven't you?» she looked genuinely entertained. The three looked towards Chico. Chico looked at them with the most pitiful puzzlement in his eyes.

«No es mi cuelpa.» he whined.

Eva Longbottom didn't look like the vain and flirtatious socialite on the terrace.

«But... how?» he managed to ask. She shook her head.

«We'll have all the time in the world to talk, especially to make you talk, when you'll be up in chains.»

Banshee had taken the few moments of Eva's scene entrance to put together a desperate escape plan. Five enemies around the gash. Four enemies with rifles lined in front of them. None had been very distracted by the arrival of what was evidently their superior. Which meant that focusing to cast a spell was nearly impossible: they would have surely noticed.

But she didn't need a complex spell.

«Feck tha police!» she screamed, and from her risen hands a sudden beam of bright, white light, exploded like a camera flash. It wasn't nothing more than light, but it was enough to force the four in front of her to close their eyes, just enough time to give her what she needed.

A head start.

Running from the trouble had been her and her brother's favorite afternoon sport since they were twelve. That was a skill running in her own blood, and she was going to put it to good use.

She darted on the right side of the street, aiming for the alleyways. Given the situation, she couldn't think about a better plan fast enough.

«Goddamn it! I told you we'd have to cuff them immediately!» growled Eva «Anastasia! Tallulah! Bring her back! Go full form!»

«But Liutenant...» the native American woman tried to protest, while the other two had reacted soon enough to block any movements coming from Chico and Vopros. Not that they didn't react. As soon as Banshee had created the distraction, Vopros had brought his hand to his heart pocket, and all Chico could think about doing was to grab his arm to stop him before a quite uncontainable explosion could level the block. Then, he had felt a barrel between his shoulder blades.

«The police blocks have a ten mile-radius and the people had been advised to remain inside at all costs. Go. Full. Form.» this time, Eva's tone didn't leave any space to replies.

The two women she called for left the formation. Eva herself took out her gun and helped keep the mages under control when they dashed in pursuit of Banshee.

«I think we could just talk everyone out of this severe misunderstanding...» Chico tried to keep his most informal and diplomatic tone. Vopros's vagrant eyes were clearly plotting something. He had to buy some time.

Two agents came forward and cuffed them.

Both felt the immediate need to puke. It was like someone had punched them in the stomach and rolled them on the ground while taking away their sight. The colors of the world suddenly looked dull and common, and Chico was sure he had lost his hearing, until Eva talked again.

«Well, now that we're sure you won't be using any other tricks, let's get in the van while we wait for my agents to bring in your stupid friend.»

«Irish runs from police since she out of crib. She already in next neighborhood by now.» Vopros's voice was extremely slurred, as if he was drunk. Well, drunker. They were pushed by the women towards the van, while the ones who were containing the explosion had apparently finished.

Just now Chico noted the yellow letters on the van.

F.U.R.R.I.E.S.

«Ay de mi...» he muttered groggily, finding out he was having a very hard time moving, as if his perceptions were completely blasted, like a cat with cut whiskers. Vopros had it even worse. Two of the agents had to keep him up to stop him from collapsing on his knees every few steps, and if, at the beginning, they thought he was faking, it was painfully clear that he was not. That was exactly what an old, always drunk man, looked like when you took his magic away with Dispel handcuffs.

«How the hell did you know where to find us?» asked Chico. «Or even that we were us?»

«You know what will always fuck the Order, in one way or another?»

«The worst pension and dental plan ever?»

«Mages.» Eva sat in front of them, her gun in her lap, deceptively distracted.

«But we truly haven't done anything!»

«First the museum, then Perch Street. If the first time you have been lucky, this time there are dead involved. And we couldn't wait to put our hands on you.»

«But it wasn't us!» Chico lied with such a powerful poker-face Eva looked amazingly admired, for some seconds.

«We have on good words that it was you.»

«It's Justin's words against ours.» Chico tried to pick out of his brain hours and hours of legal dramas, while Vopros, won over by what was evidently a terrible mix of years of drunkenness and weakness, was dropped down, his head reclined in front of him, partially covered by the shadow of the busby.

«Are you going to matarce?» Chico gulped down some saliva.

«What? No, you could be useful. We're going to lock you up in a safe place.» she explained, with the most peaceful voice ever. Chico shivered again.

«To lock us away without magic for years... killing us would be more merciful!»

«Oh, yes.» Eva's eyes showed a fearful shine. «I know.»

Strange Aeons [Book 1]Where stories live. Discover now