Recon - Chapter One
CHAPTER ONE
“Ohhh kaaaaay,” I exhaled quietly. At that moment, I wasn’t capable of doing anything else. The guy I thought of as a sensible, no-nonsense Army veteran, thought of as a friend, as sort of an older brother, had just casually told me that he talks with angels.
Not just any angel, of course. Mike’s delusion had to be about a visitation from an archangel, whatever that was. It sounded impressive, and I assumed an archangel would be leveled up significantly above an ordinary angel. For sure, their experience points would make my poor wizardly skills look like I’m an NPC.
The display on the bulkhead at the forward end of the cabin indicated we were over the Atlantic Ocean, traveling four hundred and fifty knots airspeed at forty seven thousand feet.
I was trapped in an aluminum tube with a madman.
The good news was, we had not brought any weapons with us, to avoid problems with the customs and immigration people in France. Mike had even insisted we leave any knives behind. Although now that I thought about it, that did not mean he didn’t have a knife hidden away somewhere.
Or a gun, inside a seat cushion.
For the moment, I was going to assume he did not have access to a gun, and that even if he did, he would not be crazy enough to fire such a weapon inside a fragile aircraft at high altitude.
So-
That gave me an advantage.
I still had access to magic.
Or-
Did I?
Yes. I had extended my senses twice during the flight. About twenty minutes after we took off, I checked whether the field of magical energy extended above the Earth’s surface. The answer was yes, though it was much weaker. Also, while moving almost five hundred miles per hour, I didn’t know how I could grab onto the strands of energy, they went past me so quickly. If needed, I would figure out how to do it, I’d have to. After we crossed the coast and flew out over the ocean, I waited about ten minutes and extended my senses again. Somewhere I had read that water dampens magical energy. That is probably something I read in a fantasy book, so I wasn’t putting a lot of faith in that made-up fact. Again, the energy field was there, although weak, the strands not holding together. Was that an effect of the higher altitude, the vast amount of water below us, or both? Or the temperature? At nine miles above sea level, the air outside was cold. And the air around us was thin, I hadn’t considered that. So, the field strength might be reduced due to altitude, the presence of water, the temperature of the air, or the air pressure. Or, damn it, the distance from the closest potential portal site. The portals I knew of were in Ohio, we certainly had traveled a significant distance from there. Great. I knew basically nothing.
Mike sat quietly in the seat across from me, waiting.
He expected me to say something, other than a drawn-out ‘OK’.
“You mean,” I paused since I still had no idea how to react. Whatever I said, I had to avoid provoking him. He wouldn’t shoot me, right? Unless he had reason to think I am not worthy. With delusional fanatics, you never know what might set them off. I should have been careful, except I was pissed off. “The angel appeared to you, in a dream?”
“No. Michael appeared in the middle of the morning, around ten o’clock New Zealand time.”
“Was this on a morning when you skipped drinking coffee?”
The ghost of a smile flickered across his face, but he wasn’t amused. He was letting me know he didn’t appreciate me making a joke. “Lack of coffee wasn’t an issue.”
“You had a hangover?”
“Kaz, I’m serious about this.”
“Believe me, I don’t think there is anything funny about this. You talked with an angel.”
“Talked with him, saw him.”
“Right.”
“I know it’s not easy to believe, but-”
“Not easy? Mike, come on. This is exactly the bullshit that preachers on TV say to their followers, so those gullible idiots will send their life savings to some lying asshole.”
“I’m not asking for money.”
“You’re asking me to trust you, that’s a lot more important.”
“Listen to what I have to say, then make your own decision. I know what I saw.”
“Uh huh. Is there any way it was a hologram?”
“No chance of that. I was sitting on the edge of a cliff, smack in the middle of nowhere, with a six pack of the worst, cheapest beer I could find.”
“Beer?”
“The beer wasn’t involved, I hadn’t cracked open a can yet. I was just sitting there, dangling my legs into space, trying to think of a reason to continue living.”
“You thought a six pack would help you to think?”
“I didn’t want to think,” anger flashed across his face. “I wanted to forget. No, not forget, I never want to forget the family I had.” He stopped talking for a moment. “What I wanted, I guess, was to not feel anything for a while.”
“I know what that’s like.”
“Do you? You never lost-” He clamped his mouth shut. “Sorry. You lost your parents.”
“And the woman I thought was my aunt. And my girlfriend was murdered, just to send a message to me. It wasn’t until she was dead that I found out she had been kidnapped. Do you know how low I felt right then? Mike, you lost your family, I’m sorry that happened. It wasn’t your fault. Alicia being killed was my fault. I let someone get close. I got her killed because I was stupid and selfish, and I thought I was so smart. At least, I should have told her the truth, warned her.”
“Kaz, it wouldn’t have done any good. She wouldn’t have believed you.”
“She would if I had shown her real magic, even the little tricks I could do back then.”
“Then she would have been in trouble anyway, and your trouble would have been worse.”
“Maybe. Instead of staying to protect her, I ran. After she was killed, you know what I did about it? Nothing. Nothing. I kept running. That’s all I did, run away.”
“You survived. Stayed alive, until you could do something. You just forced the Order to pull out of North America.”
“Except for the people who stayed behind, to ambush me.”
“All right, then you forced them to stop trying to open a doorway to the Nether. That’s a huge win for us, the first real win we’ve had in- A long time. Can we get back to, what I told you?”
“Sure.”
He must have read the sour expression on my face, I couldn’t hide it. “You think I’m crazy.”
“Mike, you are asking me to believe you witnessed a miracle.”
“No miracle. Just some advice.”
“From an angel,” I whispered, glancing to the people in the back of the cabin.
“Yes. Like I said, I was sitting on a cliff, trying to find some meaning in my life.”
“Did you- Did your friend save you? From jumping off the cliff?”
“I wasn’t going to jump. Those cliffs, it’s a place I went when I was growing up. A place teenagers go to drink, and, to do other things. It reminded me of a time when I was happy. When I had no responsibilities.”
“If you weren’t going to jump, how did, your angel friend save you?”
“He didn’t come to save my life, not physically. I needed a purpose. Michael gave me that. He told me that magic is real. Showed me that magic, that supernatural things, are real. I saw it. Felt it. Felt the truth of it. Michael told me that I needed to find Certus, to join them. That could be my purpose in life, if I chose it.”
“An archangel gave you a choice?”
“He did. Kaz, we have free will, it- I need to explain what Michael told me. You need to know what is really going on in,” he waved a hand, “this fight. All this.”
“Go ahead. It can’t be any worse than what you already told me.”
“That was harsh, mate,” his Kiwi accent got thicker.
“I didn’t mean it as- Mike, I believe that you believe it, is that good enough for now?”
“For now, yes. OK,” he took a breath. “Michael explained the Almighty created our world based on physics, and the Netherworld based on magic, and the two worlds were intended to be completely separate, forever.”
“There wasn’t supposed to be a like, interdimensional doorway between multiverses?”
“You have watched too many Marvel movies. This isn’t a multiverse thing, our world and the Nether are separate universes. If there is an alternate version of Earth, it is in our side of the portal, divide, whatever you call it.”
“Michael talked about multiverses?”
“No, that’s my interpretation of what he told me. Kaz, the point is, there was never supposed to be any contact between the two worlds, they are incompatible. As you know.”
“Not entirely incompatible. Magic does work here, it even has to comply with the laws of physics.”
“Incompatible, in terms of humanity having control over our fates.”
“That’s for certain. OK, so portals weren’t supposed to be a thing. But they are. So, what happened? Are portals a bug, or a feature?”
“Huh?”
“Back when Sarah thought I needed to have some sort of marketable skill, I took an online programming class. What I meant is, are portals something that was built into the, uh, barrier between worlds? Like, a safety valve or something? Or are portals a mistake?”
“I don’t know how to answer that, other than what Michael told me. Portals aren’t a simple flaw in the system, they were created, they didn’t exist and were not supposed to exist.”
“A bug, then. How were they created? Did Nether gods do it, to get access to our world?”
“Portals have to be created from this side, from our world. Nether gods set up the conditions, but they needed wizards here to act.”
“Mike, come on. How could there be wizards here, before there was magic coming from the Nether? Before there was a connection to the Nether?”
“You told me that magic can ‘leak through’ where the barriers between worlds is thin?”
“OK, yeah, but-”
“Those weak spots were created by Nether gods, and they were able to extend a tiny part of their influence here, at great effort. It took many thousands of years for people here to master the use of magic, to the point where they could open a portal.”
“Why the hell would anyone do that?”
“You seriously have to ask that question? Greed, power, short-sighted stupidity. A Nether god could have promised to end a drought, something like that.”
“After that same god caused a drought here,” I bit my lip.
“Could be,” Mike agreed. “Someone worked to open the first portal, for the same reason the Order wants to open a portal now. Those idiots believe Nether gods will bestow blessings upon their followers here. That’s true now, it was true, back then.”
“When was ‘then’? When did the first portal open?”
“Michael didn’t reveal that to me, at the time I didn’t think to ask. Certus believes it was most likely seven thousand years ago. Possibly as early as eleven thousand years.”
“Whoa. Eleven- Did human civilization even exist back then?”
“The last Ice Age ended around twelve thousand years ago, and Neolithic culture developed in the Fertile Crescent about the same time. The Fertile Crescent is-”
“Along the Tigris and Euphrates rivers in what is now Iraq, and extending through what is now Syria to the Mediterranean coast, I know. Neolithic cultures had domesticated animals, farming, and permanent settlements, instead of being Stone Age hunter-gatherers.”
“Look at the big brain on you.”
“Not going to school doesn’t mean I didn’t learn anything. OK, so even back that long ago, wizards learned how to open portals?”
“We think so, yes.”
“Part of this story doesn’t make sense. If the two worlds were supposed to be separate, and Nether gods broke the rules, why doesn’t your buddy Michael just fix the problem?”
Mike shook his head. “He’s not allowed to.”
“Nether gods can do whatever they want, but an archangel can’t punish them?”
“The Nether gods didn’t create portals, we did. Humanity. We were gifted with free will, and we chose to break the rules.”
“You gotta be joking.”
“I’m not. Neither was Michael. We Eff’ed this up, we have to fix it.”
“You were visited by a freakin’ archangel, and all he could do was tell you he can’t do anything?”
“He told me the truth, and advised me to seek Certus, if I wanted to be part of the solution.”
“That is super helpful.”
“Kaz, it is. Angels can’t intervene directly, that would break the rules.”
“That is a very fine line.”
“Is it? Nether gods didn’t create portals between worlds, they didn’t force people here to assist them. The Nether gods offered rewards to their followers.”
“What reward did Michael offer to you?”
“He offered me a purpose in life, at a time when I needed it. A chance to do something meaningful. It’s my choice. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Yeah, I think so. You’re saying we can’t count on divine intervention to bail us out.”
“Have you heard the expression, ‘The Lord helps those who help themselves’?”
“Help implies we are not doing all the work, but we are.”
“That’s not true. I am here, helping you, because of divine inspiration. It was a choice I made, of my own free will.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Free will is a gift, and a curse. It depends what we do with it.”
“OK I, need to think about this. Does anyone else know that you, have a guardian angel?”
“He’s not a guardian.”
“He protected you from drinking cheap beer.”
That drew a fleeting but genuine smile from him. “The people who need to know, do. Such as Annie. And Isabel.”
“Isabel?”
“She had a similar experience.”
“She did?” I said that a bit too loud, and pressed my mouth shut, hoping no one had heard me. Duke opened one eye for a moment, then went back to sleep. “What did she tell you?”
He shook his head. “That is her story to tell, if she decides to share it with you.”
“OK. Did Annie also-”
“Annie came to Certus by a different path.”
“Was she surprised when you told her?”
“Not at all.”
“So, angels appearing to people has happened before?”
“Apparently.”
“That is also being less than helpful.”
“The only thing I can talk about is my own experience.”
“This would be a lot easier if you had mentioned your secret while my feet were still on the ground.”
“I had to make sure you got on the plane, it-” he held up his hands. “OK, I heard that. It was the wrong thing to say.”
“Ya think?”
“Kaz, I hadn’t planned to tell you this now, it just, seemed like the right time. You should know what you’re getting into.”
“Again, since this plane is taking me into, whatever mess is over there, you should have told me before the wheels left the ground.”
“Sorry. Annie wouldn’t want me to talk about this at all. Not yet.”
“You take orders from Annie, so-”
“Not on this,” he cut me off. “On operational matters of this world, yeah, I take orders from Annie. This is about me, between me and, my non-guardian angel. It is way above Annie’s pay grade, to use an Army expression.”
“OK.” He might have guessed that knowledge Annie didn’t want me to have would be too much temptation for me. “Can you understand why this is a bit hard to believe? For us poor mortals who do not talk with angels?”
“How do you think I felt, when an angel appeared to me?”
“Probably the same way I feel right now?”
“That’s not fair. Kaz, you know me.”
“I thought I did.”
“You have seen magic. Why is this so hard to believe?”
“You just answered your own question. We both have seen magic. How can you be sure what you experienced was an actual freakin’ angel, and not an illusion created through magic?”
“You just answered your own question. You didn’t do it, and there are no other wizards, so it couldn’t have been a magical illusion.”
“There aren’t any other wizards, that we know of, you mean.” My argument was lame, we both knew it.
“That’s the best you’ve got?”
“There is a lot going on already, then you dump this on me. Give my brain a minute to process, before you smack me with another secret that will blow my mind.”
“Ask yourself this question, then. If divine inspiration didn’t bring me to Certus, how do you think Annie finds agents?”
“Uh, I don’t suppose she uses ads on LinkedIn and ZipRecruiter? Something like ‘Fast-paced secret organization seeks self-starter individuals to help save the world. Comprehensive dental plan included’?”
“Um, no.”
“No, about the dental plan?”
“Kaz.”
“Mike, I have no freakin’ clue how Annie, or whatever her real name is, finds people. How does the Order find people?”
“They have it easy. The modern Order is basically an extended family, they are born into it. Family connections, greed, and lust for power bring in all the key people they need. You already know they use organized crime groups, and mercenaries, to pump up their manpower when needed.”
“Only the family knows what is really going on?”
“Not all of the family, just a core group. The Order has legitimate business interests now, those are handled by family members who are not trusted with the whole truth. Other family members run the non-legit side of the business, but also don’t know anything about the Order. Only a trusted few of the inner family know the full truth. They- Annie will explain it all to you.”
“She will?”
“That’s why we’re going to Europe. She will likely tell you more than I know. There is a lot I don’t need to know. She intends to tell you everything.”
“I’ll believe that when I hear it. Why the sudden change?”
“It surprised me also. Something made her decide we need to act now. You can ask her. Later,” he held up a hand. “For now, I think you should get some sleep. We can’t risk anyone making a mistake when we meet with French immigration.”
“Sure, I,” a yawn stretched my jaw. It had been a long day, and Mike dumping his divine visitation on me had my brain spinning. I was exhausted. “I’ll do that. No more surprises, until we get on the ground?”
“No more surprises.”
In the middle of the cabin, I settled into a seat and leaned it back, sort of keeping one eye open. But, Mike had picked up a tablet and was using it, I could see the glow between seats. The guy might be delusional, he wasn’t dangerous. I think. There wasn’t anything I could do about it at the moment anyway.
What he told me was a shock, but did it matter, really? It’s not like I had been counting on help from the Almighty. The Lord helps those who help themselves, like Mike said. I didn’t know whether Mike had truly seen an angel or not. I did know that, if a Convergence could be stopped, I had to do it.
That’s the problem with being the world’s only wizard.
The seatainer was anonymous, packed in with hundreds of other shipping containers at the port in Marseilles. It had come into the port on a ship from Turkey, the contents labeled as electrical machinery, bound for Nimes as the final destination. The paperwork was all in order, though inaccurate. Any inspector opening the container doors would find large pieces of electric generators and other equipment, on pallets and covered in clear plastic to protect the components from the corrosive effect of salt-laden sea air. Even at the back of the container, metal cabinets were plastered with caution labels, warning of high voltage.
The cabinets deep inside the container were indeed dangerous, but not because of electricity. Those cabinets were packed with high-grade heroin from Afghanistan.
The route through Turkey into Marseille was new, having been used only once before. The first shipment was only for a small amount, two kilos. Hardly worth the risk and expense. Smuggling heroin was not as profitable as it had been, with users increasingly preferring synthetic opioids such as fentanyl, but the heroin flooding out of Afghanistan was cheap. There was enough of the drug in the seatainer to temporarily disrupt the market, depressing prices. That would make some people angry, people who thought they had an exclusive right to control that market.
Screw them. The days when the Corsican Mafia controlled the market were long gone, hardly anyone remembered that old movie The French Connection. It wasn’t like there was an official franchise for the heroin market in France, it was a business for the bold, not the old. The older suppliers used routes that were watched too closely by the authorities. They were conservative, predictable. They would have to make room for a new player in the market, once the seatainer reached Nimes.
Except, it would never leave the port, not intact.
Above one cabinet, a softly glowing spark appeared. Flickering orange, winking in and out of existence, the tiny spark floated toward the back of the seatainer, dipping lower, lower, lower until it disappeared inside a cabinet.
Nothing happened for several minutes while outside, the business of the port continued, cranes lifting containers and placing them onto the trailers of waiting trucks. A cycle that kept the port busy every day.
The cabinet’s dark green paint began to bubble on the back, and smoke wafted out from a vent in one side. Light glowed through vents and smoke began to pour out, thick black smoke that obscured the paint peeling off the metal cabinet that was glowing faintly red. The fire intensified, growing hotter and cabinets packed in around the fire were losing their paint, turning sooty black.
The steel casing of the cabinet melted, puddles of molten metal pooling on the floor of the container. Four other cabinets were raging with fire, to the point where smoke was streaming out gaps in the front doors. Smoke was pouring out, not much air was being pulled in though the fire was not dying out from lack of oxygen.
The source of the fire didn’t need oxygen. It didn’t draw its energy from this world.
By the time the fire faded to glowing embers, the seatainer’s floor had buckled, the weakened structure sagging so much it was impossible for a crane to lift it away from the vulnerable containers on each side. Fire fighters soaked the area with water, halting operations at the port. An inspection would have to wait until the container cooled, possibly for many hours, but an investigation was already underway, seeking information about who owned the contents of the container.
The owners would not be found, and they would not be using the port of Marseilles again. They had received the message loud and clear: the people who controlled that territory would protect it, by any means necessary.
Including by unnatural means.
