by G Dean Manuel
Special Agent Fitz Montgomery slammed the dossier on the table. "Why don't you start with telling me who you are?" He was dressed like a classic Gman. Pressed suit, tie, white dress shirt, the whole ball of wax. You could almost picture him in the bullpen with his jacket off and sleeves rolled up, hands on his hips. He fixed the man seated across from him with a hard stare.
"Are you trying to interrogate me or ask me out?" the other man said. He was dressed in a black trench coat, loose collared shirt, and slacks. He was a pencil-thin man, all angles. He sported a perpetual five o'clock shadow. He favored the agent with a lop-sided grin that was all snark.
"Maybe you want to take this a bit more seriously. The people I work for..."
"I know who you work for, mate," the other man said an obvious Cockney timber to his voice. "You mind if I smoke?"
"You do not want to piss me off!"
"Piss you off? I'm just being me ol' charming self." A cigarette had appeared in his hand. He smiled slowly at Fritz and lit his cigarette. He did so without the aid of lighter or match, just covering it with his hands and puffing.
"Parlor tricks? Is that supposed to be intimidating?"
"Naw, son, that ain't intimidating. I'm plannin' on being intimidating in a bit."
"Who are you?"
"That's the question, isn't it? Why don't you call me Charles? Yeah, Charles will do just fine," said the man, leaning back in his seat and taking a long pull from his cigarette.
Agent Montgomery opened the file on the table. He scattered several photos. "These photos. You're in each one."
Charles shrugged. "Sure, why not?"
"These photos go back as far as 1864!"
Charles looked him dead in the eye. "Your point?"
"How can you be in them?"
"Well, that's a good question," Charles said, leaning forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Easy answer: Those people ain't me, mate."
"We've had these photos processed through facial recognition software. Several different kinds. The lowest match was still eighty-seven percent. These photos are of you." Fritz crossed his arms.
"Well, now you done and got all serious on me. Whatcha do that for?" Charles said, flashing his grin but it didn't reach his eyes. "The answer to your question, let's just say you aren't ready for it, capiche?"
"I'm ready for whatever you have to tell me, Charles."
"Bah... you young uns are all alike," the man in the trench coat said. "I'm ready to learn the secrets of the Universe and it's many planes of existence. Oh, no, this tentacled horror is eatin' me face off! You aren't ready, lad. Trust me. Plus, you don't really have time to hear the whole story."
"How so?"
"Well, in the next two minutes, two men will walk through that door. They'll flash a badge and tell you they are taking over the case. My suggestion to you: Walk away."
"I don't know what you take me for..."
There was a knock at the door.
Agent Montgomery looked at Charles in surprise, who merely smiled and inclined his head. When Fritz turned to answer the door, Charles' facial expression became serious. Charles was on the move before Agent Montgomery opened the door. With a thought, he freed himself from the cuffs that connected him to the table.
"Bloody hell," he swore under his breath. From one of the many secret pockets in his trench coat, Charles produced some chalk. He quickly sketched an outline of a door and a few arcane sigils. He focused, as he'd been taught, and whispered the words of the incantation.
Two men stood at the doorway being blocked by Special Agent Montgomery. One of them looked past the agent and saw what Charles was doing. He immediately hit Fritz in the throat, causing the special agent to clutch at his throat and drop to the ground, gasping for breath.
Charles looked over his shoulder as he opened the doorway he had conjured. He threw the pair a cheeky smile and wink. "Better luck next time, fellas!"
"Noooo!" one of the two screamed. "You will open the portal to the queen!"
Charles turned completely about and gave a wave. "Noooooooo, I won't," he said as the doorway closed. He took a moment and looked around, trying to determine where he ended up. He took a deep breath through his nostrils. His nose crinkled. Bangalore, definitely Bangalore. He started walking, putting distance between him and his portal site.
Pulling out a cellphone, he punched in a number. It rang for a few seconds and then was picked up. "Tommy?"
"Gerald," said Tommy Twilight.
"They found me again, mate."
Tommy sighed. "I'm in the middle of an investigation. Where are you? I'll pick you up after I get done."
"Bangalore."
"Really? You know Aishwarya still lives there and I'm pretty sure she still hates me."
"Can't be helped, mate. You know what happens if they catch me."
Tommy swore. "You know, if you quit being a royal douche bag, maybe you'd have more friends to call when you were in trouble. Meet me at the Bannerghatta National Park. There is a portal close to there."
"Thanks, mate." He hung up the phone.
"Are you trying to interrogate me or ask me out?" the other man said. He was dressed in a black trench coat, loose collared shirt, and slacks. He was a pencil-thin man, all angles. He sported a perpetual five o'clock shadow. He favored the agent with a lop-sided grin that was all snark.
"Maybe you want to take this a bit more seriously. The people I work for..."
"I know who you work for, mate," the other man said an obvious Cockney timber to his voice. "You mind if I smoke?"
"You do not want to piss me off!"
"Piss you off? I'm just being me ol' charming self." A cigarette had appeared in his hand. He smiled slowly at Fritz and lit his cigarette. He did so without the aid of lighter or match, just covering it with his hands and puffing.
"Parlor tricks? Is that supposed to be intimidating?"
"Naw, son, that ain't intimidating. I'm plannin' on being intimidating in a bit."
"Who are you?"
"That's the question, isn't it? Why don't you call me Charles? Yeah, Charles will do just fine," said the man, leaning back in his seat and taking a long pull from his cigarette.
Agent Montgomery opened the file on the table. He scattered several photos. "These photos. You're in each one."
Charles shrugged. "Sure, why not?"
"These photos go back as far as 1864!"
Charles looked him dead in the eye. "Your point?"
"How can you be in them?"
"Well, that's a good question," Charles said, leaning forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Easy answer: Those people ain't me, mate."
"We've had these photos processed through facial recognition software. Several different kinds. The lowest match was still eighty-seven percent. These photos are of you." Fritz crossed his arms.
"Well, now you done and got all serious on me. Whatcha do that for?" Charles said, flashing his grin but it didn't reach his eyes. "The answer to your question, let's just say you aren't ready for it, capiche?"
"I'm ready for whatever you have to tell me, Charles."
"Bah... you young uns are all alike," the man in the trench coat said. "I'm ready to learn the secrets of the Universe and it's many planes of existence. Oh, no, this tentacled horror is eatin' me face off! You aren't ready, lad. Trust me. Plus, you don't really have time to hear the whole story."
"How so?"
"Well, in the next two minutes, two men will walk through that door. They'll flash a badge and tell you they are taking over the case. My suggestion to you: Walk away."
"I don't know what you take me for..."
There was a knock at the door.
Agent Montgomery looked at Charles in surprise, who merely smiled and inclined his head. When Fritz turned to answer the door, Charles' facial expression became serious. Charles was on the move before Agent Montgomery opened the door. With a thought, he freed himself from the cuffs that connected him to the table.
"Bloody hell," he swore under his breath. From one of the many secret pockets in his trench coat, Charles produced some chalk. He quickly sketched an outline of a door and a few arcane sigils. He focused, as he'd been taught, and whispered the words of the incantation.
Two men stood at the doorway being blocked by Special Agent Montgomery. One of them looked past the agent and saw what Charles was doing. He immediately hit Fritz in the throat, causing the special agent to clutch at his throat and drop to the ground, gasping for breath.
Charles looked over his shoulder as he opened the doorway he had conjured. He threw the pair a cheeky smile and wink. "Better luck next time, fellas!"
"Noooo!" one of the two screamed. "You will open the portal to the queen!"
Charles turned completely about and gave a wave. "Noooooooo, I won't," he said as the doorway closed. He took a moment and looked around, trying to determine where he ended up. He took a deep breath through his nostrils. His nose crinkled. Bangalore, definitely Bangalore. He started walking, putting distance between him and his portal site.
Pulling out a cellphone, he punched in a number. It rang for a few seconds and then was picked up. "Tommy?"
"Gerald," said Tommy Twilight.
"They found me again, mate."
Tommy sighed. "I'm in the middle of an investigation. Where are you? I'll pick you up after I get done."
"Bangalore."
"Really? You know Aishwarya still lives there and I'm pretty sure she still hates me."
"Can't be helped, mate. You know what happens if they catch me."
Tommy swore. "You know, if you quit being a royal douche bag, maybe you'd have more friends to call when you were in trouble. Meet me at the Bannerghatta National Park. There is a portal close to there."
"Thanks, mate." He hung up the phone.
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