Chapter 959: Without Consequences

In the vampire laboratory, Clive and Lorelei were cataloguing the overtly magical tools and materials. Travis was doing the same with the technological tools, while also checking in on an IT specialist from the Cabal who was working on the computers. Emi was paying greater attention, watching over his shoulder. She wasn’t a computer specialist, but she had, at least, used one that wasn’t old enough to vote.

The rest of Jason’s companions had moved on to other tasks. Some were sweeping the complex for any lingering vampires and victims. They had turned up several, mostly homeless people who had died along with the blood oak. Jason was talking with the others through voice chat as he flew through the skies of Melbourne in a black car.

“Bro, it sounds like killing the leader kills all the minions, like in an old monster movie,” Taika said.

“That would seem to be the case,” Danielle replied. “That’s good if we need to kill an army of minions quickly, but not if we want to save them.”

“I don’t suppose any of the victims have regained consciousness?” Jason asked.

“No,” Carlos said. “And don’t expect them to any time soon. They’ll be comatose for days while their souls shake off the trauma. We’ve dosed them with as much healing magic as we can without doing more harm than good. We’re lucky any of them lived at all. What they went through was tantamount to being chain-fed spirit coins. If they’d had any magic of their own, none of them would have survived.”

“We’re coming up on the complex now,” Jason said.

“You found your creepy magic experiment specialist?” Clive asked.

“I did,” Jason said. “Try not to be rude when you meet her.”

“Why would we be rude?” Clive asked. “Isn’t that your kind of thing?”

***

While the mercenaries had jackhammered into an elevator shaft, the actual entrance to the bunker complex was a small security building. The vampires had purchased it through a discreet shell company and mild government corruption. It was more convenient than an empty shaft, and a large operation was now being set up around it.

The security building was in the corner of a car park that serviced the nearby warehouses and industrial spaces. There was a security cordon set up in the car park, with a couple of tents and an operations van. Looped around it was a simple rope barrier, the actual deterrent being a large security force. A half dozen squads in black tactical gear were positioned around the cordon. Outside of the line was the press, growing in number as more and more vans arrived. Reporters were trying to get a rise from the security team while cameramen set up tripods and deployed drones into the air.

The security force were the first to notice the approach of a flying black sports car, raising their guns. The press were filming moments later, although all their cameras picked up was a static blur. The car approached the ground, but instead of landing, turned into a cloud of roiling darkness. Two people dropped from the cloud to land lightly on the ground, a man and woman. The cloud was drawn down and sucked into the man’s shadow, like dust into a vacuum cleaner. The reporters immediately rushed at the pair, many already having recognised Jason.

“I’m not taking questions at this time,” Jason said, without slowing down. Some of the reporters moved into his path, at which point he stopped and glared. They quick-fired question his way, then yelped and screamed as they floated into the air. Jason used his aura to pick up the entire media contingent, including their vans, and deposit them on the roof of a nearby warehouse. The camera drones were crushed, as if by invisible hands, and the scrap was dropped on the roof as well.

Jason and his companion then walked to the cordon rope, where a security team was waiting to meet them. The security personnel’s anxiety didn’t show through the tactical helmets, but it painted their auras. They were also throwing nervous glances at the stranded reporters.

“Mr Asano,” the squad leader said as she stepped in front of him. “There are security protocols in place, now.”

“I’m sure there are,” Jason told her. “I just don’t particularly care.”

“Sir, we need to vet everyone attempting to enter the facility. I’m well aware that you could break me and my team like a carton of eggs, but we have a job to do. For all I know, you could be a reporter using illusion magic.”

Jason turned to look at the reporters on the roof, in various states of distress.

“I’ll acknowledge it’s unlikely,” the squad leader said.

Jason let out a frustrated sigh.

“Why do I keep running into people at checkpoints who fulfil their duties with integrity?” he complained. “Where are the cowards I don’t feel bad about browbeating?”

“I’m not really sure how to answer that, sir.”

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“Squad Leader Jessica Sunderland, sir.”

“Jason Asano.”

“I’m aware, sir.”

“I don’t really carry ID. Well, I do, but it’s a magic tattoo on my back. I don’t think that’s valid in Australian jurisdictions. What about you, Ms Blaine?”

“I’ve been living in a magic city for the last decade,” Jason’s companion said. “I haven’t had any legal identification since I came back from the dead in Arizona. You brought me here through a portal, which I imagine is illegal entry. I don’t have a passport, let alone a visa. I’m not even sure my US citizenship is still valid.”

“Because you died?”

“Yeah.”

“Were you declared dead, legally?”

“I suppose not. The other cardinals murdered me and I came back to life in a shed.”

“You’re probably fine, then. Just to be clear, when you say cardinals, you’re not talking about Catholics, right?”

“No, that was what we called the EoA leadership. Cardinals, after the cardinal directions. I was Mrs South.”

“Right. Like Mr North.”

“Exactly.”

“Uh, sir?” the squad leader interjected.

“Right, sorry Jessica,” Jason said. “You know, you can call me Jason.”

“I’m definitely not going to do that, sir.”

“Fair enough. Look, we need to go in. You know who I am, and this is Audrey Blaine of Clan Asano, so now you know who she is. I’m going to need you to take my word for it, because we’re going inside.”

“Sir, if I can convince you to wait a moment, I’ll radio my supervisor and see if I can clear you. That way, you don’t have to beat the crap out of all of us on your way in.”

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“Fair enough,” Jason said. “But do try and make it quick, or I’ll put you all up there with the reporters.”

“Thank you, sir.”

She took a few steps away and started talking into her radio. Jason waited, looking around absently.

“I should probably get a phone,” he mused. “Do they still have phones, or is it hologram watches or something now?”

“I think they still have phones,” Audrey said. “Again, I’ve been living in a magic city for a decade. Surrounded by vampires.”

“Is that weird for you? The vampire thing?”

“Not really,” Audrey said as she looked around. “You’re not very big on following rules, are you? Or laws.”

“I suppose not. Except cosmic laws, I guess. I kind of have to follow those, since I’m the one who… ah, that doesn’t matter. I’m more of a ‘do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law’ guy.”

“You realise that when regular people try that, it doesn’t work out.”

“It doesn’t always work out for me, if I’m being honest.”

***

The bunker network’s single installed elevator was a freight elevator installed as part of the original construction. Jason and Audrey rode it down until it stopped with a shake. When the doors opened, they found most of Jason’s team arrayed in front of it, brandishing weapons.

“What did I say about not being rude?” he asked them.

“That’s an energy vampire,” Humphrey said, pointing his sword at Audrey.

“Indeed, she is. Audrey Blaine, may I introduce Team Biscuit. Team, this is Audrey. A few decades ago, she ran an extremely sketchy joint project between the extant magical factions of the period. That program was how she ended up in her current state, which she has long-since learned to manage.”