Light in the Barren Lands: Travail of The Dark Mage Book One (34 page)

Liar!
“Do you have any idea how many favors I had to cash in to get assigned to this Task Force? The risks I took to clear a safe house so you could use it to learn Seth’s whereabouts? If my part in this comes to light, it’s my ass!”

“Look. You just find out where he is and leave it to me.”

“I don’t think so.” In his mind he added
drunken sot.
“Go back to your…”

“Seth’s dead.”

“What?”

“That’s what I got out of him before his, uh, friends showed up.”

“Did he admit to it?”

“No. Said some guy called Igor was behind it.”

“Igor? Sounds German.”

“Maybe. That was all I learned before he was rescued.”

Agent Randle thought for a moment. “If this guy is on the loose, he may come looking for his partner.”

“That’s what I was figuring too. Maybe if I could…”

“You’ll do nothing! Go back to the hotel and wait for me.”

“This is my son’s killer we’re talking about.”

“Yes it is! And you would think you would lay off the liquor until this was over.”

“I tell you, I was not drinking!”

Closing his eyes and taking a calming breath, Agent Randle said very calmly, “Go back to the room and wait.” Then closing his phone, he hung up on his brother.

“Randle!”

“Yes sir?” Turning, he saw Task Force leader Barnes waving him over. A civilian attached to Homeland Security, he had been put in charge of apprehending the Haveston bombing terrorists.

“Come with me.”

Getting up from his desk, Agent Randle joined Mr. Barnes as he made his way back toward the interrogation room wherein the recently apprehended terrorist was being held. “It seems the situation has worsened.”

“What do you mean?”

Stopping at a door just before the one leading into the interrogation room, Mr. Barnes opened it and walked inside. One wall was the rear side of a one-way mirror. Through the mirror, Agent Randle saw the terrorist sitting with arms and legs chained to a metal chair, a leather strap securing his middle.

They had quite the time upon arriving with the prisoner. Even handcuffed, it took four men to get him into that chair and secured with the restraints. Agent Goode was inside the room attempting to interrogate him.

“He hasn’t said a word anyone understands,” explained Mr. Barnes. “The Las Vegas FBI office contains agents who speak half a dozen languages, but none can understand what he says. We’ve contacted the local University and they’re sending over a linguistics professor. Supposedly the professor speaks a dozen languages and can recognize most others.”

“Is that what the problem is?” asked Agent Randle. “That he can’t be understood?”

Mr. Barnes shook his head. “No.” Turning a bit, he pointed to a pile of items stacked on a table against the far wall. “That is what concerns me.”

Sitting on the table were two radiation suits, a Geiger counter, two long, wicked looking knives, and other less worrisome objects.

“And this.” Mr. Barnes held up a map of Las Vegas. “We found this inside the duffle bag.” Marks were made around various hotels up and down the Strip.

“Are they going to detonate a dirty bomb?”

“Possibly. Or maybe even a nuke. We’ve contacted the local authorities as to the possibility and they are standing by should evacuation be deemed necessary.”

Turning his gaze to the prisoner, Agent Randle watched him for a moment. “Sure seems relaxed, doesn’t he?”

“Yes. For someone in his situation, a bit
too
relaxed.” Mr. Barnes turned to Agent Randle. “I want you to go through these items and see if you can glean any information from them. If Las Vegas is about to be nuked, we need to know where and when.”

“I take it those sites marked on the map have been searched?’

“With a fine toothed comb,” affirmed Mr. Barnes. “Local agents were sent with detection equipment and came up with nothing.”

“So whatever they plan has yet to be put into motion.”

“That’s what we hope. If we can find the other terrorist in time, maybe we can prevent a catastrophe.”

“Let’s hope so.”

The bright lights of the interrogation room bothered Jiron. Such steady, unnatural lighting didn’t sit well with him. Before him sat a table of metal, as was the chair to which he was chained. Barely left sufficient play for his hand to reach his nose should it be in need of scratching, he waited.

James would come. He was certain that had James and his daughter been caught, his captors would have been less interested in him and concentrate more on James. After all, James could speak the language.

Jiron did worry about his daughter, and in her ability to free James. But had he not sent her after her uncle, she would even now be sitting beside him in captivity, awaiting an uncertain future.

Currently, a man dressed in black clothes sat across the table from him. When Jiron had first been brought into this room, his greatest worry was that they would begin to torture him. But they hadn’t. He figured that such had been put off until a way could be found to communicate. Inwardly, Jiron couldn’t help but laugh. If such were the case, he would never be tortured, for who on this world would there be that could communicate with him?

No, he would wait patiently. Endure what must be endured until James arrived. For he knew that should Jira be successful, James would come. And if she failed? He wouldn’t allow himself to dwell upon that possibility. Jira would succeed, and James would
come
!

The light creeping over the hills to the east fell upon a lone pickup truck parked out in the middle of the desert. Far to the south, cars could be seen moving along Interstate 15. A rabbit, awakened by the sun’s first rays, hopped merrily along, pausing a moment to wonder at the presence of this man-made object parked only a few feet from its burrow. Curiosity won out and it moved in for a closer look only to bump into something it didn’t see at first. The rabbit had no idea what it was. Now that it knew it was there, it gazed in wonder at a shimmering, translucent dome in place over the truck. Barely visible, it began two feet above the truck’s cab and ended at the ground, completely encompassing the truck and its occupants. After giving the dome only another moment of cursory inspection, it hopped along in search of food.

Asleep against the driver’s side door, James awoke when the sun’s rays entered the cab and fell across his face. Jira huddled next to him, he could feel her shivering from the cool of the night. Laying his arm about her, he thought of her father and hoped he yet lived.

Very gently so as not to awaken her, he repositioned her so she would lie the other way, and then got out of the truck. A night spent in the cab had left a crick in his back that was in need of stretching. Canceling the shield that had provided protection throughout the night, he walked around the truck to stretch his legs, back, and arms.

He still couldn’t believe it had been Seth’s father who had found him first. Well did he remember Dave’s account of the way in which the man had accosted him shortly after James’ disappearance, blaming him for Seth’s.

Now in the cool light of dawn, he realized he shouldn’t have been lenient. To allow one to live who was bent on his destruction was not the wisest course of action he could have taken. It had, however, alleviated much of the guilt he had been burdened with since that fateful morning when he realized it was Seth that the wolves had killed.

Putting some distance between himself and the truck in order to take care of his morning business, James began wondering how Jiron had fared. Was he still in the motel room?

Needing to know, James gathered the magic to him then sent it back to Vegas where it would search for Jiron’s whereabouts. It was tough to keep focused on the spell. Even though he was growing used to working with Earth’s magic, there were still moments where control was shaky. Thank goodness those times were growing less frequent.

Closing his eyes to better focus his concentration, he firmly fixed Jiron’s image in his mind. At first, he concentrated the search at the motel and was distressed to find the room empty. James widened the search. Minutes passed until he sensed his friend’s presence.

In his mind’s eye, he saw Jiron chained to a chair in an interrogation room. He didn’t look mistreated and there were no bandages to suggest he had been shot. Much relived that Jiron was alive and well, he let go of the magic.

A creak from the truck’s suspension drew his attention back to the cab. He saw Jira staring at him through the window. Walking over to her, he smiled and said, “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Uncle. Are we going to get father now?”

“Not quite yet. First, let’s get something to eat,” he replied.

As he climbed into the cab, her lips turned into a pout.

James tousled her hair. “Don’t worry. He’s fine.” Directing her gaze to the rearview mirror, he used magic to quickly form the image of Jiron chained to the chair in the interrogation room. “See?”

“They chained him like a dog!”

“Do you think they would be so stupid as to allow your father to run around loose?” Putting the truck into gear, he headed back for Las Vegas. “I wouldn’t.”

Over breakfast of biscuits and gravy with bacon and eggs, James explained that they would need their energy once things got rolling. “You can’t expect them to simply allow me to walk in, collect your father, then walk out do you? Also, once I rescue him, everyone is going to be after us. They’ll throw their full weight in trying to catch us. We won’t have time to idle away in a restaurant. I know your father would want me to ensure you are taken care of before coming to get him.”

She wished her father to be free right away, but could understand what her uncle was saying.

“Also, we should try to collect as many of the crystals as possible beforehand too. We don’t have the map anymore so we’ll have to do our best to remember where we placed them.”

“But that could take hours.”

“Maybe. I’ve been thinking that it might be best to break him out once night comes.”

Her face fell. “
That
long?”

James nodded. “It would increase our chance of giving the police the slip. Plus, I’ve got a few ideas on how to make things difficult for them.”

“How?”

As James explained, she started to giggle. Her father would love it. “We’ll check back on him throughout the day. If his situation gets worse, we won’t wait until dark. Okay?”

“Okay.”

After breakfast, she asked to again see her father and once they had returned to the truck, James willingly obliged. Magic was coming easier for him. Those spells he was most familiar with, such as farseeing and his orb, were now taking much less effort to get right. It could be the fact that he had grown used to the magic of his home world.

She was glad to find her father no longer chained to a chair, but was instead within some kind of small room with a narrow cot, sink, and toilet. James explained that he was being kept in a cell. “I would think their biggest problem with your father is not being able to talk to him. Seeing him chained in the chair within the interrogation room brought to mind the fact he doesn’t speak English, or any of the other languages of my world for that matter.”

“What will they do to him?”

“Nothing. They won’t do anything other than lock him away until they are able to find a method of communication.” Starting the truck, he said, “And I doubt if they will be able to do that before tonight.” He couldn’t help but grin at the thought of the powers that be trying to talk to Jiron. Backing out of the parking spot, they headed into town.

The university professor who was touted as being one of the leading minds when it came to languages and dialects, both of today’s and yesterday’s, was at a loss. He had listened to the tapes made of the few words spoken by the prisoner during his interrogation, and though he heard pieces of half a dozen languages, as a whole, the prisoner’s speech was nonsense.

“I think he is playing you all for fools,” the professor stated. “Most of what he says is nonsensical gibberish with no basis in any language of the past two thousand years.”

“Are you sure?” asked Mr. Barnes.

“Absolutely. Most languages have roots in older ones, which in turn have roots in older ones, etc. There are a few unique languages like Navajo, but what he is speaking isn’t one of them.”

Agent Randle glanced to the professor. “Could it be one you aren’t familiar with?”

Turning his gaze on the agent, the professor shook his head. “There aren’t any languages that I am not at least in some small way familiar. Trust me gentlemen, this guy is having fun with you.”

Mr. Barnes considered the professor’s statement then nodded his head. “Thank you, professor. If we need any further assistance, we will contact you.” He then waved for one of the agents to escort the man from the building. Once the professor had left the room, Mr. Barnes turned to Agent Randle.

“Do you believe this guy is playing us for fools?”

“I’m not sure. Normally there is some spark of recognition during interrogation that gives away the fact that the one being interrogated understands what is being said. But with our terrorist, I don’t get that he does.”

“Would a lie detector test tell us anything?”

Shrugging, Agent Randle replied, “Maybe. Lie detectors are only useful in determining the validity of a given statement. Since we don’t know what he is saying, I can’t see how it would make much of a difference.”

Mulling over the agent’s words, Mr. Barnes finally came to a conclusion. “We can’t just sit and do nothing. His partner could at this moment be ready to detonate a nuclear device.” Glancing to the agent he added, “Take it to the next level.”

“Yes, sir.”

A stop at a 99 Cent store supplied James a mirror to keep an eye on Jiron. It was easier for him to do the far seeing thing if he used one. Doing it without one took a much greater expenditure of concentration and magic.

After finding Jira’s father still in the holding cell, they began to collect the crystals left to gather power over the last week. It was actually easier than anticipated as they did have a good notion where they had been placed. So once in the general area, James used magic to seek them out.