Demons really are a different form of life. Not only are they hard to kill, but humans have never settled the question of whether the demons actually die when we kill them, or they just go home to their own dimension. Which brings up the question of whether they are physically here in the first place. I’d seen the damage they do and the people they kill, so I left the philosophical questions to others.
Several demons appeared in the roadway. One of them stuck out an arm and clotheslined the rider on the lead bike. The other motorcycle in front swerved to avoid them and opened up with the machineguns attached to the bike. A demon—a large black oni—jumped in front of the lead van. He might have done some serious damage to a normal car, but the armored Findlay vehicle ran over him, and the armored van behind it bumped over him like a speed bump.
The demons launched fire and giant icicles at us, but the drivers just accelerated.
“Wait!” I shouted. “What about the guy that went down?”
“Jimmy will pick him up,” the van driver said. “If he can’t transport him, he’ll throw an air shield around both of them and wait for help. Standard operating procedure.”
We made it to the main road and turned north. After a mile or so, I saw two helicopters painted in Findlay colors fly past us toward where we were ambushed. A couple of minutes later, a third helicopter showed up and flew above us the rest of the way to the estate.
“I feel special,” Kirsten said, craning her neck to look up at the helicopter through the window.
Our driver chuckled. “I think Lady Findlay-James considers you a good influence.”
“That’s the first time anyone has called me that,” Kirsten replied. “Would you like a brownie? I think they’re cool enough to eat now.”
I glared at the driver. She pretended not to notice but got a big grin on her face. Both the driver and I took a brownie.
To my relief, the helicopter carrying the injured guardian arrived at the mansion before we did, and I was told he was doing well. My grandmother and Marjorie came out and took charge of Kirsten and our luggage, while I was whisked away to the security annex.
Henri Novak and Osiris were the only ones present when I was ushered into Osiris’s office.
“Taking action against another Family on a demon’s word is chancy business,” Osiris said as soon as I took a seat.
“Yeah, I know. But it’s not just the Benning girl. I’m positive that Moncrieff was behind the attacks on me and Lady Findlay-James, not to mention the assassination at the ball.”
Novak spoke up. “By Moncrieff, you mean Courtney Findlay-Moncrieff.”
“And her husband. I also think Karl Rudolf is involved, and possibly their daughter Karolyn. Ashvial told me that the same Family responsible for Johansson’s murder was also responsible for the fiasco at the ball. In addition, I have evidence that someone in that Family was responsible for an attack on me.”
Novak and Osiris stared at each other for a couple of minutes, then Novak said, “All right. If we don’t find the girl or evidence of their conspiracy, I think we can still make the excuse of ‘troubling times.’ We just need to be as clean as possible, and try to avoid casualties.”
“Agreed,” Osiris said. “Let’s go tell the others.”
“Can’t you just take Courtney and her family into protective custody?” I asked. “You know, things are very unsettled right now, we’re circling the wagons, and want to make sure all of our Family are safe.”
“I like that,” Henri Novak said. Osiris grinned at me and nodded.
Waiting for us in Osiris’s conference room were five men and three women. All wore the colors of either Findlay, Novak, Benning, or Whittaker guardians.
“General,” Novak said to the man in Whittaker colors, “we want a surgical strike on the Moncrieff’s Elk Neck estate with as few casualties and property damage as possible.”
The general chuckled. “Nothing difficult, right? Well, let’s get to it. What is our intelligence on the target? What kind and how many troops do I have to work with? And is there anymore coffee?”
The Whittaker Family’s mercenaries were considered elite, and the Novaks’ connection to them was one of the things that kept the Novak Family on top. Having one of Whittaker’s top generals plan and direct things gave me hope.
Chapter 50
The alliance put the Moncrieff estate under tight surveillance, and the assault was scheduled with forty-eight hours of preparation. Smaller operations were staged against the Akiyama and Moncrieff offices in Wilmington. Quietly, Findlay patrol boats deployed across the Chesapeake south of the Elk Neck peninsula to intercept any boats or ships that might try to escape.
They put me in charge of a team of twelve magiteks. I wanted to ask, “Why me?” but dual glares from Osiris and Tom Whittaker shut me up. When I met the other magiteks, I realized why. The lack of imagination was astounding. I spent the time between meeting my team and the time we deployed explaining how to disable various kinds of motors and electronics. I wished they had given me some juvenile delinquents instead of trained technicians.
My team was sent out to Elk Neck with the surveillance teams in small patrol boats, and we came ashore in inflatable landing rafts. A large part of the peninsula had been a public park back before the wars, but in the aftermath of the Rift War, the Moncrieff Family had taken possession of the entire area and declared it theirs. It occupied a very defensible position about halfway between the harbors of Wilmington and Baltimore, and the Family had built a marina and a small airport within the estate’s boundaries.
That night, accompanied by a force of Whittaker commandos, we were landed into a forested area near the airfield. I split my team, taking ten commandos and the three men and one
