Sneak Peek - The Shadows Are No Place For Love

The beep from the intercom on her desk drew Samantha’s gaze away from her computer.  It was very unusual for her secretary to bother her in the afternoons, especially with a deposition looming. Taking a moment to finish writing down her last thought, Samantha reached over and pushed the blinking red button. 

“Yes Katrina?” Samantha allowed a note of irritation to filter into the short question.

“Your cousins are here to see you Ms. Snow,” came the heavy German accent of the overly perky intern. The lawyer had given up telling Katrina that she spoke and understood German perfectly well and she didn’t need to speak English for her benefit. Katrina was new, and eager to please, and incredibly clueless. With Berta on maternity leave, Samantha had been dealing with a rotation of interns vying for her favor and none had lasted more than a few days.

Looking up at the clock on the wall Samantha paused to take note of the time in her planner. She wrote down 15:07 as she closed her documents on her screen.

“Send them in please.” She surveyed her tidy desk and tapped a button on her keyboard. Her screen flickered twice, and a password screen came up. Samantha straightened her steely blue business suit jacket and swiveled in her chair, turning to meet whoever was about to walk into her office. Samantha didn’t have any cousins.

When her door opened, and three men walked in, Samantha just smiled politely at the secretary and motioned for the men to sit as the door closed behind them.  Two of them remained standing while the third took a seat directly in front of her.

“Gentlemen.” She placed her hands on her desk and looked at them each in turn.  “To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”

The man that had seated himself reached into the coat pocket of his well-worn suit and drew out an envelope.  He tossed it on the mahogany desk in front of her, but she refrained from doing more than glancing at the envelope as it came to rest inches from her fingertips.

“There are some rather interesting pictures in there,” said the man leaning back and resting his ankle on his knee. His shoes were clean but scuffed, so not someone very high on the proverbial food chain then. His accent was decidedly not German, which is likely why Katrina had bought the story of them being cousins. Samantha made a mental note to get a different intern in the morning. “Pictures that a young, ambitious lawyer of your renown might find very troublesome, should they fall into the wrong hands, “ continued the man as he eyed her for a reaction.

Samantha pushed the envelope back across her desk with a single finger and leaned back in her chair, taking on a relaxed pose. “I assure you whoever you have in those photographs, it is not me.” This wasn’t the first time someone had tried to bribe or blackmail her over a legal case, and it wasn’t going to be the last. Samantha had worked far too hard to get this job in Berlin to do anything so stupid as to jeopardize it in the manner these men were implying.

Much to her irritation, the man gave her a sympathetic smile. “Oh Ms. Snow, these are not pictures of you.” There was a pause as the man’s smile twisted into an unpleasant grin. “These pictures are of your brother.” And just like that these men, who had just barely caused a wrinkle in her evening, went from mild annoyance to immediate threat.

Samantha’s features fell into a practiced blank canvas as she picked up the envelope. Dealing with dangerous individuals was something she was also accustomed to, though she generally wasn’t being threatened directly. She saw a look of confidence settle over the man before her as she opened the envelope, and she squashed the urge to grimace as she pulled out two black and white pictures.

The pictures were crisp and taken on a camera that was good enough that she could make out the small but distinct tattoo on her brother’s chest. There was a series of vicious looking gashes across his torso that would have looked garish if the picture had been full color. He was bound to a chair, ropes wrapped around his wrists and ankles. A dark pool had collected beneath the chair. His hair was plastered against his forehead, and the left side of his face was swollen; one eye reduced to a bulging slit that disfigured the handsome face she remembered so fondly from only two years ago.

James had been there to see her off to Berlin. Despite being younger than her, he always tried to watch over her, though it was usually James who ended up in trouble. Samantha had been getting him out of trouble more and more since James had become a Shade, running dark ops for the highest bidder. Despite her not approving of his profession, she had to admit he was decent at his job, never took any wet work, thank goodness, and she rarely had to do more than file a few forms to clear up any misunderstandings. But this… This was bad. And where was the rest of his team?

She flipped to the next picture and was glad of her courtroom face as she saw the image of her brother strung up painfully with ropes, his arms obviously straining from the weight of his own body pulling against the restraints. Again, blood was pooling beneath him, running in rivulets down his bare chest and stomach. Samantha was again glad the pictures were in black and white, or she may have been sick.

Breathing in slowly and exhaling, she carefully built a wall around the part of her that wanted to break down and cry in terror for her brother. Samantha set the pictures on her desk face up, turning a cold gaze on the men before her, not a hint of her inner turmoil visible on her smooth features. She was about to make a gamble, and she desperately hoped it would pay off.

The man in the chair before her frowned, looking from the pictures to her face. Clearly, they had expected more of a reaction from her, and a thin smile touched Samantha’s lips.

“Well gentlemen,” she said, her tone going from polite to no nonsense. “Why don’t we cut to the chase and get down to why you have my brother before I decide I don’t need you and find out for myself.” As she spoke, she had picked up a pen and began writing small lines of runes on a legal pad on her desk. She knew she’d have to do something she had avoided doing unless absolutely necessary, but being squeamish now would only get her brother killed. It had been months since she’d used her magic, didn’t particularly want to be casting a spell now, but she  knew this would help persuade these men when other tactics wouldn’t.

The two men still standing shifted at the perceived change in her tone and she gave them a condescending look. The spell she was weaving would make them see her as a threat – whatever their imagination concocted; she had no way of knowing. It was just a very strong suggestion that they were seriously underestimating her. She just hoped she didn’t oversell it and get herself killed in the process. “At ease boys. I’m not going to murder you in my office. I need you alive to get James back in one piece. For now.”

The man in the chair looked uncomfortable and changed his posture so his coat fell open to reveal a gun holster. He didn’t quite reach for his gun, but she could tell he was considering it. “You’re bluffing,” he said a little too quickly. “You’re just a lawyer. Your brother is the killer.”

Samantha’s smile almost faltered. Her brother wasn’t a killer. What were they talking about? Shoving the confusing questions down she forced her smile to spread across her face and pressed her palm to the wet ink, activating the last of the runes. She could feel her suggestion spell flow out from between her fingers and wrap tendrils around each of the men.

“Gentlemen. My patience grows thin. Please,” she snapped her fingers as one of them started to speak and cut him off with a flick of her wrist. “Tell me what it is you want in exchange for my brother or get out.” She leaned forward, eyes narrowing as she felt her spell take hold. “But if you leave here, you’d better never stop looking over your shoulder. I’ll make sure to give you plenty of reasons for it.” She watched them judging and weighing her words and she forced herself to fold her hands calmly on her desk as she waited for them to digest her words.

“I didn’t sign up for dying,” muttered one of the men, shifting from one foot to the other. His words seemed to jar the other out of his thoughts as he squinted at her. He nodded once as if making up his mind.

“Your services are required.” His words were clipped, and he reached into another pocket and slid a piece of paper onto her desk. “Be at this address tomorrow at 7:15 am. Your brother’s life in exchange for your cooperation.” He stood and Samantha eyed the paper.

“No,” she said although it pained her. “I don’t believe you.”

The man let out an ugly laugh and sneered. “I don’t give a shit what you believe. We were told to deliver the message. Be there or your brother dies.” He gave a shrug as if it mattered little to him. “Have a pleasant night Ms. Snow,” he turned and left without another word, the other two following hastily.

Once the door slammed shut behind them, Samantha’s shoulders sagged, and she took a ragged breath. She drew the slip of paper with the time and address closer and looked between the paper and the pictures of her brother, tears finally spilling forth. Wiping her cold fingers across her face she reached for the intercom and pressed the button for Katrina.

“Yes Ms. Snow?” came the jarringly happy response.

“Cancel the rest of my appointments for the day,” Samantha said, trying to keep her tone even.

“But Ms. Snow!” came the startled voice. “The deposition is tomorrow. Herr Fleischer will not be pleased. He said-”

“I know what he said,” Samantha snapped back letting her emotions get the best of her for a moment. “Call Abendroth. Tell him I’m ill. He’ll be able to take care of things.” She could almost feel the other woman’s fear through the intercom. “Katrina,” she prompted.

“Y-yes. Fräulein.” Katrina was scared. She was slipping back into German. “It will be done as you say.” The last was said fully in German. Samantha released the intercom and let her head sink into her hands, her elbows on either side of the pictures.

“Oh James,” she whispered. “How am I supposed to help you get out of this one?” As if on cue, her computer screen flickered different colors before going to an old-fashioned green and black command line interface. For at least 30 seconds the screen remained blank before words began pouring across the screen.

Flustered, Samantha tapped her keys hurriedly to no avail and eventually resigned herself to watching the screen in dismay. The grammar left something to be desired, as if the writer was in a hurry.

Guten tag frau Snow; dont worry about who I am for now just refer to me as Obelisk. Sure, the name is a bit absurd, but it simply makes this all a bit easier.

So, you seem to be having a little bit of trouble with your brother, we have a mutual interest in the people who have taken him. Normally this type of information would cost you quite a bit however you getting involved will give me a unique opportunity to solve a problem for me that has been outstanding for far too long.

I’ll give you your first breadcrumb to follow. In eastern Berlin just at the barrier of the 23rd precinct, there is a bar named “die Axt Mühle” or “the Axe Grinder” if you prefer.

The man you are looking for was once a citizen of the United Northern Territories (UNT). He’s a magician of some power and a Shade, a dark ops runner, who may have ties to the people I believe captured your brother.

He should be easy to pick out for someone with your skill set.

His name is Alexander Reicher but goes by the name Iados on the streets and won’t like someone bringing up his government issued name.

I’ll be in contact and should you need me just search the OS for DarkSphinx, he’ll be able to pass any requests back onto me.

I’ll be watching.

After a few more moments the screen flickered again and returned to its normal state, password locked, as if nothing had happened. Samantha stared at the computer as if it were possessed. Quickly, and against her better judgement, she logged back into her machine and saw that everything appeared normal. None of her intrusion countermeasures had been tripped or disabled. The expertise that it would take to undertake such a feat was beyond even what most hot tech-heads would be able to pull off, at least as far as she knew anyway. Whoever, or whatever, was represented by the name “Obelisk” wasn’t some third-rate Shade or high-end corporate tech-head.

As she surveyed her icons, she spotted a new folder named “Project Obelisk” on her desktop. Inside were four personnel reports from a classified UNT genetic modification and bioware enhancement project. Quickly, she read through the files. The concept of the project was evidently to create completely self-sufficient magically attuned agents for highly questionable government wet work. Each agent had been enhanced with experimental bioware. Some enhancements allowed them to access the Other Side, a matrix of virtual reality worlds stitched together, that sometimes flowed over the real world via augmented reality glasses or ocular implants. Others had chosen skin weaves that would resist damage or even boost their magical abilities. It was clear that this project was discontinued after control of the subjects became tenuous, and then non-existent. At best this information was dangerous to hold onto and at worst it pointed to a much darker link in James’ current predicament.  Even worse was the fact that some of the technology had been developed jointly with Mars-Macro Corp and ForesTechnology. The reputation of ForesTechnology alone was enough for most people in the shadows to steer clear of them, and the fact they had control of their own sector of Berlin began to make the prospects of recovering her brother alive shrink by the moment.

Her intercom beeped loudly on her desk, making Samantha jump.

“Miss Snow… a package just arrived for you. It’s from someone named Dark Sphinx. Should I have security take a look at it first?”

“No, that’s fine.” Samantha said hastily. “Just bring it in please.” She didn’t want to risk anyone else finding out what was going on with her brother. Before Katrina entered, Samantha selected all of the files in the folder and sent them to the printer. She much preferred holding a document and reading it than staring at her screen and she should probably delete these files anyway.

As Katrina entered with a small box, her computer monitor turned blue, and an error code appeared. Muttering angrily to herself, Samantha restarted the computer. When everything came back online, the folder named Project Obelisk was gone.