Endangered Ch. 09

"Well, no... but he can handle the .45, look at the size of his hands. He's just a soft motherfucker."

"That's enough!" Sam said firmly and loudly in order for her tone to carry through everyone's hearing protection. Her eyes narrowed, looking scathingly at the younger woman as she spoke. "Chris, I'm sorry you've had such a rude introduction to the pistol. I just hope this experience hasn't put you off."

"I'll be okay," Chris assured her, trying to diffuse the escalating situation. "I think I've had enough for today though."

"Good, come with me then. There's someone who wants to meet you, we're going to get ice cream."

Sam beckoned him to step down from the shooting bench.

"Bye, Kat, thanks," Chris shrugged apologetically. "Ice cream always wins."

"But he still has to learn to clean and strip the weapon," Kat was more perplexed now than anything else.

"God damnit, Kat," Sam rounded on her again and unloaded. "Clean it yourself, you've done enough for one day. If I left him with you, I wouldn't be surprised if you had him here all night trying to strip it blindfolded!"

Sam didn't wait to hear a response, instead bustling Chris away down the hallway.

"Blindfolds are the third day," Kat shrugged to herself and began collecting loose brass off the floor.

"I'm really sorry you had to go through that," Sam said as they mounted the stairs out of the small, four-lane underground range in the basement of the BIA garage. "I would have stayed around but I needed to pick up Amy from school."

"It's fine," he insisted. "Kat's not the world's best teacher, but I was enjoying it until my hand started falling to pieces."

"The .45 has far too much recoil for a beginner...Fucking marines."

"Sam, it's fine. Let it go. Kat and I are both learning in a way. Hey, I've heard of an amazing ice cream place in the Being district. It's only a few minutes' walk."

They were almost at the lobby now and Sam paused on a landing, taking a deep, relaxing breath. She visibly let her anger flow away from her. A few strands of her black hair had escaped her braid, tickling the dusky skin of her flushed neck. She swept them behind her ear, opening her eyes to reveal the calm, professional woman once again.

"Thanks," she nodded to him and continued on up the stairs, composure restored.

The BIA building was a rapidly evolving creature. Case in point, the refurbished lobby now had a reinforced front end, a security checkpoint complete with metal and explosives detectors, stations for four or five security staff, cameras, and according to Michelle, a crowd control panic button. Today however, there were only two guards on duty. Chris was pretty sure one guy's name was Grady, he wasn't sure about the other. They both had that competent look about them which screamed 'don't fuck with me.'

His attention was quickly drawn to the smallest occupant of the lobby, a young girl seated on a bench next to a huge potted plant. Her feet dangled, kicking restlessly whilst her nose was buried in a book.

"Amy," Sam's countenance beamed with pride as she beckoned her daughter over. "Come meet Mommy's... work friend."

Amy looked up, carefully bookmarked her place, and shyly shuffled to her mother's side.

"Amy, this is Chris Baryst. Chris, meet Amy Patel, my little bookworm," Sam petted her daughter's hair.

Chris slowly crouched, extending his huge hand for the girl to shake.

"Hi Amy, it's lovely to meet you."

"You're big."

"Amy!" Susan's admonishing was drown out in the dragon's deep, happy laughter.

"And you're small," he chuckled, employing his best winning smile. "Did you consider that?"

"Yes," she smiled tentatively and put her tiny hand in his. They shook.

"What are you reading?" he asked, releasing her hand but staying balanced in a low crouch. He looked up to Sam to make sure he was doing okay. The woman was smiling like a crazy person.

"The Hobbit," Amy held her book up. "I'm almost finished."

Chris barely managed to contain his laughter this time. Samantha shrugged almost playfully and he knew she'd played a part in her daughter's reading.

"Last night we read about Smaug and his great hoard of treasure," Sam took her daughter's hand. "But not all dragons are greedy and wicked, isn't that right, Chris."

"Exactly," he spoke with authority. "In fact, I know of several who are simply delightful. Hey now, your Mom promised me ice cream. Should we go?"

"Yeah!" Amy agreed wholeheartedly with a manic bouncing. "Ice cream, ice cream."

"Well, okay then," Sam allowed. "I'm very proud of you for doing so well in your first week at the new school, Amy. You deserve a treat."

They donned coats against the chill autumn wind and departed on their quest. Chris led the way and with only a small detour into the Compound's network of underground tunnels, they emerged near the shop Annabel had so highly recommended.

"It must be good if it's busy on a cold day like today," Sam commented as six customers exited just before them.

They entered the warm interior to the happy tinkling of a small brace of bells attached to the door. Chris had to wait a few moments to enter himself as Amy stopped in the doorway, mesmerised by the fanciful interior of pink, gold, and white. It looked like a confectionary wonderland. Chairs made of candy canes, tables that looked like lollipops, even the floor was artfully painted to look like you were walking on clouds. The place was a Wonka fantasy brought to life.

Amy's brown eyes bugged out as they walked past the long display of ice-cream tubs and another of delicious handmade confectionary and chocolates.

They were just choosing a booth near the back when, with an excited shriek, the door behind the counter burst open and a blond woman in a hair net and apron came bustling over to them. Chris didn't have to be introduced to recognise the woman's features or her scent. This must be Hailey's mother.

Without further ado, he was swept into a rather breasty hug by the excited werebison.

"Janet, I presume?" Chris laughed, squeezing her back. "I'm sorry we haven't officially met before now. I'm dating your daughter by the way."

"I know that, silly," she tutted, releasing him reluctantly. "I'm just excited you're in my store! I was starting to think Hailey was trying to hide you from me."

"I'm sure she's got her reasons," Chris joked cheekily, making the slightly plump blonde blush. "Janet Sibon, I'd like you to meet Samantha and Amy Patel. They've just moved down from Oregon and Sam works with me at the... new agency."

"Oh, well, welcome to Denver," the werebison said kindly. "Please, have whatever you like today on the house. Any friend of this big hunk is a friend of mine."

"That's very generous, thank you, Janet," Sam smiled. "What do you say, Amy?"

"Thank you, Miss. Your store is very pretty."

"Oh, aren't you a sweet little buttercup," Janet fussed. "Okay well, I won't keep you. Chris, you don't be a stranger now, ya' hear? I'll send out something special just for you in a minute."

They took their seats and were immediately served by a pair of very attentive young ladies. One of them almost shoved her peer into the counter to be the first to their table. Chris wasn't sure what brand of Being they were, he didn't recognise their scent.

"Is it always like this when you go somewhere?" Sam asked with a frown once their orders were placed.

"Sort of," Chris shrugged. "Depends on the crowd."

"That must be tedious."

"Like what, Mommy?" Amy asked.

"Oh, don't worry dear. Chris is sort of like a local hero and people treat him differently sometimes."

"Like free ice cream?"

"Exactly," Sam laughed as her daughter's innocent remark struck the nail on the head.

"Then I want to be a hero when I grow up," Amy stated with supreme finality.

"I'm sure you will be," Chris smiled at the little cherub.

Annabel's glowing praise did not do the place justice. Chris couldn't comment on Amy or Sam's experience other than to say that they seemed to devour their treats with a chorus of delighted coos and long periods of busy silence. Amy had a 'junior chocolate float,' a small scoop of hazelnut ice cream swimming in a steaming little mug of real, decadent hot chocolate. A 12 flavour tasting palate was Sam's choice and she exclaimed with just about every new mouthful.

The first taste of Chris' golden coloured ice cream had his mouth in ecstasy. Subtle vanilla exploded from tiny black beads, a sinfully creamy texture melted across his tongue. It was the understated perfection of the classic flavour, balanced with delicate, almost nutty sweetness and a hint of magic. Hailey's mother had just fed him something prepared with her very own milk.

They left the warmth reluctantly, Amy clutching the small pouch of chocolates Chris had helped her pick out. The wind had picked up as well as the foot traffic as the end of the business day approached. Chris offered Amy a shoulder ride and to Sam's surprise, the usually shy girl accepted with glee. She rode high above the people rushing home from work, a little black-haired empress on a mighty dragon.

They were almost back at the BIA building when both their phones exploded into frantic bleeping.

"Something big is happening," Sam said as Chris held onto Amy's legs and tried to look over her shoulder. "Michelle wants everyone in the office ASAP."

"Good thing we're just around the corner," Chris said. "I wonder what's gone wrong."

***

"We're going to Brazil," Michelle tapped away at her keyboard and a satellite photograph came to life on the briefing room projector screen. Two enormous rivers merged in a sea of green jungle, a city clinging to the northern shore. "Manaus to be more exact. Something happened there a few hours ago during a congregation in one of the outlying settlements."

"Something?" Pamela asked, looking around the room to see if anyone else thought this was a little preposterous.

"It looks like a ritual killing, more than one hundred bodies on the ground."

"Oh, my god," Sam's hand came to her mouth in shock and disgust.

Chris' hand hovered awkwardly over her shoulder before settling gently.

"What do we know?" he asked.

"Not a lot so far," Michelle admitted. "They've been very reluctant when I've asked for photographs. They were that spooked that the area has been evacuated and sealed off. Reyla confirmed with the Synod that a large magical spike was triangulated to that position though."

"A sacrifice?" Lisa's voice held a tiny quiver of doubt.

"We don't know, sorry, Lisa. Anyway, word of the mass killing got to someone high-up enough that they knew about Beings. And they promptly shat their pants. No one knew what to do so they asked us to rush down there and help them investigate. It's a big step considering the Brazilians haven't been our fans since we got caught spying on their president's personal communications a few years ago."

"If it's a magical incident, why didn't they consult the Rio territory leader?" Lillian asked.

"Things haven't been going so well down there between the government and local Beings," Michelle admitted.

"The Beings are a particularly cagey lot down there," Lillian nodded thoughtfully. "It tends to happen after hundreds of years under the Catholic Church."

"That and in the initial contact with the government a few months ago, they were treated like a second-rate minority group."

"Are we going to step on anyone's magic little toes if we storm into the Amazon on the government's say so?" Lisa asked. "No magical pygmy tribe or anaconda goddess?"

"I sure hope not," Kat laughed. "Jungle and sun, just what I need. This city is turning nasty and it ain't even winter yet."

"Pack your bikini's then," Michelle smiled at the eager ex-marine. "And by that, I mean full tac gear. We'll have an escort but I'm driving a hard bargain to keep our diplomatic immunity in case we have to shoot someone in self-defence. Understandably, they're a little reluctant to have us wandering around with assault rifles but we simply won't go unarmed. I made the point that we're bringing the equivalent of a magical nuclear weapon anyway, so they're thinking it can't hurt too much to have us armed. Worst case, we'll be pistols only. We'll try to leave in two hours."

"Suits me," Lisa grinned at Pamela.

The freckled blonde frowned at the dig. Both women were expert marksman in their own right but they'd been having a friendly argument over the last few days. It was the classic 'if there were only one,' scenario but with guns. Lisa of course, would choose a pistol. Pamela, a simple .308 scout rifle.

"I can't go," Lillian shrugged. "Not unless you plan to be back by tomorrow noon. I've finally pinned down a meeting between some of the pricklier vampires in the west and midwest territories. I can't pull out on that."

"Yeah, I thought that might be the case," Michelle nodded. "What do you think, Chris? Are you ready to be our only magical backup on this one?"

"I ah..." he looked around the room, unsure. He looked to Lillian at his side.

"Get those god-damn training wheels off," Kat poked him in the ribs from behind. "She ain't your momma."

"Alright, alright," he chuckled as Kat kept poking him. She did have a point, he needed to venture out from under Lillian's wing at some stage.

"Sam, you need to find someone to look after Amy for a few days," Michelle moved along to the next issue with oiled precision.

"What?!" Sam asked, this whole time she'd simply assumed she would stay behind. "How am I supposed to find someone in a new city on two hours' notice? I've barely been here two weeks."

"We need your investigative skills, Sam. You're the only one of us who's got experience in forensics."

"You should ask Petra and Claire," Lisa prompted Chris. "They're really nice people, Sam."

"They're dragons and I barely know them, Amy not at all!" Sam almost jumped down Lisa's throat before getting a hold of herself. "Sorry, Chris, I didn't mean it like that."

"It's okay, Sam, she's your daughter," he gave her a little smile. "Hey, why don't I give them a call? We've still got a few hours before we have to leave, they could come down here and you can introduce Amy to them. You four can go have dinner with Annabel and Susan to see if it's a match. This situation is going to keep coming up until you find a solution."

"Chris is right, you need to find someone you're happy for Amy to stay with from time to time. We need you. Michelle's Angels, remember?" Lisa offered to show there were no hard feelings for Sam snapping at her.

"Okay," Sam murmured.

"Michelle's Angels!" Kat whooped, racing out of the room to get the best pick from the armoury.

Pamela followed a few seconds later, more sedately but in no less of a hurry to beat the marine to the good stuff.

"I just..." Sam put her head in her hands and let out a little sob. "Ever since her dad died I find it so hard to leave her."

Lisa shuffled a few seats over and gave her a hug while Chris wondered what was appropriate for him to do other than sit there awkwardly.

"Ahh, motherhood," Lillian purred in his ear, making him sit up straight as a rod as her telekinetic power began to play teasingly across his thigh. "Never thought I'd be on that particular roller-coaster ride. Hmmm. Just don't make any more of our 'angels' into mothers while you're away, okay youngling?"

Chris' resulting blush would be a cherished memory for the vampire in their days apart.

***

The jungle assaulted them as soon as the cabin door of the jet unsealed. Heat and humidity washed over him like a wave, making his skin tingle and sweat dew almost instantly. There was an earthy, foreign scent to the air which didn't sit right in his nose. It was too pungent, too thick, and much too wet. For a young man from Laramie, Wyoming stepping into the Amazon was a shock to his entire body.

Their escort was already arrayed and waiting for them on the tarmac. Two big ural trucks full of men in green fatigues, old FN FAL rifles slung over their shoulders and floppy camouflage hats on their heads. Three high-end black SUVs beckoned them, promising blessed air-conditioning in the 95-degree heat.

A tall, very thin man stepped out of an SUV, wearing a practiced air of authority. Behind him, a younger man in glasses exited and trotted along behind obediently. Both wore uniforms similar to the soldiers in front of their trucks, but were uncreased and unstained by sweat.

The young man turned out to be their interpreter, for moments after the leader began speaking Portuguese, he rattled out a formal greeting in perfect, if accented English. The older man was Colonel Otero, and he was delighted to host such distinguished dignitaries from their firm allies, the United States of America.

A few of the men lined up by the trucks almost sniggered.

Michelle responded with a token, forgettable nicety and suggested that they make haste to the site of the incident before tropical decomposition had any more time to complete its grisly work.

There was a small debacle when the Colonel tried to split their group into the three SUVs, each with their own driver and front seat guard. Michelle was having none of it and demanded that they be transported as a unit. Chris thought it was prudent that they stuck together, some of the men were giving the women openly speculative looks.

The Colonel took it in stride however, smiled evilly, and ordered half of the men from one truck to take their places in the luxury vehicles. Chris groaned as his chance of riding in comfort evaporated faster than his sweat in the muggy air. The men remaining in their awaiting ural seemed very pleased with themselves.

After clambering up into the back of the tall, off-road truck they were quickly underway. Michelle began unpacking her equipment on the floor as they lumbered onto a highway. Kat, Lisa, Pamela, and Sam soon followed her example, strapping on body armour, readying weapons, checking comms and other electronics.

The men toward the back of the truck leered at them all the while, muttering suggestive vulgarities. You didn't have to understand Portuguese to know what they were snickering and elbowing each other about. Chris bristled, almost lunging at a man who wolf-whistled when Kat got down to her underwear to put her chest armour on.

"Don't stress it," Sam whispered to him, patting his thigh placatingly. "We've all been in the armed services or police, we're used to it by now. Besides, I think they're teasing you."

Chris looked around at the grinning faces watching him, and had to admit that they might be.

"It doesn't make it right," he muttered angrily as he began getting geared up himself. "I'm going to deck the next man who whistles."

Instead, he ended up laughing along with the rest of them when the soldiers whistled as he took his own t-shirt off.

He stood to let the air flow around him and through his sweaty blond hair. Over the railed side of the truck, a mishmash of buildings and jungle sailed by. They were skirting the city, he saw glimpses of it when they crested small hills. Kat joined him, standing on the bench seat to stick her head into the flowing air beside him.

"So many trees," he wondered at the seemingly endless foliage on all sides.

"This isn't even proper jungle," Kat teased him as the truck rumbled along. "We won't really see any this trip. Wait until we cross over the Rio Negro, that will be impressive."

"Everything's got security guards, checkpoints, and crazy fences down here," he pointed to a business they passed with two armed guards posted on the roof.

"Things are a bit rougher," she agreed.

For a little while, they drove through the city proper as the highway looped back around to connect to the bridge. To Chris, the side streets they passed seemed chaotic, dirty, and narrow. The drivers of their convoy appeared to rely on having the right of way in almost every situation and it appeared to work. Motorcycles, cars, and even trucks showed deference.