Warlock of Omaha

By Hemaccabe

Chapter 15 Break Away

I took Travis jacket shopping. They're a few places in town to look at a leather jacket. What Travis was wearing was made of denim and cheap cracking leather. It looked like something for a teenager from times gone by. We looked at a bunch of jackets and I found out he wanted what's generally known as a stadium coat.

I was juggling.

I wanted to spend as much time with Cassie as possible. To be honest. I wanted to be there when she woke up. If she was an unwilling victim like Travis, it would be very cruel to have her wake alone so telling Jake he couldn't sit with her would be impossible. But if she was more a willing ally of the Compost Mage, then she could probably wrap Jake's gentle head around her finger in seconds. Further, there might be things I could get out of her right when she woke up that would be impossible even a few minutes later. That could be key to our survival.

I also wanted to work on my axe. My axe had played a key role in the last two fights. Getting a next generation axe could be key to our survival.

I wanted to get Travis better equipped. Getting him to a better place could make him much more effective in a fight. That could be key to our survival.

There were also other little projects like getting Big Baby ready. We'd just had a demonstration of how much better it would have been to have Big Baby in a fight. If the Compost Mage decided to come at us with hordes of little stuff again, Big Baby could be key to our survival.

One probably notices a certain trend.

In addition, I had some other small business to attend to.

The RV people were calling. They had gotten to the point where they needed the panel bits to proceed.

I was trying to order a body for the truck. I had gotten tired of buying a whole truck and then throwing 80% of the value away. Ram didn't want to sell me what I wanted, especially for a fair price.

The house needed cleaning and there was no one but me to do it.

I still hadn't taken time to meet DiAngelo.

I also got a call from a guy named Vinton.

Luckily, I was still waking up at five.

I basically spent every minute I wasn't doing something else with Cassie. Including sleeping. I even brought a lot of work down to basement exam room and did it there. I had a feeling that when she woke up it would be between ten am and 2pm. I'm not sure why I felt that, but I was trusting my feelings and spending that time with her each day. This was hardly perfect, but it was the best I could do.

I spent a few hours a day, generally right after I woke up, on my axe. I started with the clips. Clips are small metal wedges used to secure an axe or hammer head to a handle. They didn't take long, only a couple days. I continued taking a few hours a day, generally in early morning, to move the project along. I think it was actually better that way. It let me pour myself out completely on what I was working on and then rest until I was ready for the next step. Further, I could think very carefully about how I wanted to take the next step.

I was able to do a lot of delegating for Travis. He was a huge help.

I wanted to get my materials lab team back together but that wasn't going to happen. Instead, I found the two best hitters, Danny Padawadaway Patel and Shirley Chin and just hired them. Actually, I had a client hire them to work in my lab. They were happy. I was happy. The client got a major whole in his cyber security closed on the qt.

I got Travis back to my materials lab. I got my grad students to work measuring Travis up.

Danny and Shirley made Travis a set of boots fairly quickly. We had basic patterns for that already, all we needed was to measure his feet. The jacket took longer, but it was mostly made of improved Type B. It also had winter and summer inserts.

One of the things one may, or may not, wear under armor is a cushioning layer, or insert. If one gets hit while wearing armor, the armor may stop the bullet from penetrating, but the force of the bullet can still be a savage hammer blow. Getting bruises, knocked down, broken bones, broken blood vessels, even broken organs are all possibilities. Padding, depending on how good it is, can help. We made two sets of padding for Travis' coat, one in winter weight, which he could wear now and keep warm and one in summer weight so he could tolerate the jacket better during the summer.

Of course, as soon as Jake saw Travis' jacket, he wanted one too. Then Jake noticed the boots and he wanted those too, so we put together a set for Jake. Jake wanted his jacket to be a motorcycle jacket. I was all set to make something of chrome and black leather. It turns out Jake wanted a modern motorcycle jacket. Sigh. The jacket would definitely have state of the art spine protection. I also got Jake a good helmet that would link up with the spine protection. Was the motorcycle helmet bulletproof? No. A motorcycle helmet works by absorbing shocking blows. Bulletproof doesn't absorb shock.

I was also working on guns for Travis. Travis had used a bolt action .30-06, (pronounced thirty aught six) rifle and an FN Five Seven pistol. That's an expensive pistol. The Five Seven fired an unusual caliber, 5.7x28, a remarkably controversial round. It was a provocative choice, I had to stop and think a bit about my own choices.

(Author's warning, long gun lecture to follow)

The 5.7x28's history was bound up in the tortured history of a firearms concept called the sub-machine gun. The sub-machine gun is an idea of a gun that is somewhere between a pistol and a rifle. Most early sub-machine guns, like the Thompson and the Uzi, used a traditionally pistol-type cartridge in something that was clearly larger than a pistol, but smaller than a rifle of the period. The idea was to create something that would be faster and handier in close quarters battle than a conventional rifle, but more powerful than a pistol. It's actually a pretty good idea. The reality that had been getting slammed into the heads of every military leader since the first World War, that most fighting would be at close quarters and that rifles needed to be shorter, faster and handier was not well absorbed. The military establishment can often be remarkably dense and slow to accept change. The military establishment could not give up the idea that all fighting would be at extended range on the green fields of western Europe and require long, slow, high accuracy rifles. As late as the second Iraq war, US troops were still armed with excessively long rifles. That said, there were some efforts. The Thompson and other sub guns were deployed in World War II. One might imagine that the Thompson, being the preferred weapon of nearly every soldier in the conflict would be a sign, unfortunately the Generals missed that. Israel, being a country that's under constant military pressure and not able to remain stupid for extended periods of time, deployed the Uzi. Eventually, the idea of the sub gun started getting a bit of traction. Various versions, particularly the Uzi and Mac-10 were staples of action movies through the eighties. Heckler & Koch produced a highly capable version called the MP-5 that was widely adopted.

The MP-5 was small, reliable and very capable. It's only major drawback was it's caliber, 9mm. 9mm is pretty decent as a civilian personal defense round, because it can be loaded up with a variety of high-performance man killer rounds. The 115 grain military ball round which is required for military use by the Geneva Conventions is known as a poodle killer, i.e. not powerful enough to kill a man, but perhaps a poodle. NATO asked for something better to be produced. H&K released the MP-7 and FN released the P-90. The P-90 was clearly better, but Germany, home of H&K, sulked and nothing was ever settled. The MP-7 and P-90 both deployed intermediate sized rounds, bigger than most pistol rounds and smaller than most rifle rounds. One of the NATO requirements was that the round be capable of penetrating limited body armor. The brand-new round they created for the P-90 was the 5.7x28. The round was small, roughly half the diameter of my 10mm pistol round. However, it was backed by a big powder charge so that its small bullet could go very fast, and the smaller and faster the bullet, the more it would penetrate. That would be good, but the designers of the P-90 had come up with something very devious, the round would almost always tumble on impact. When a bullet tumbles, it creates a much nastier and more lethal wound. As an additional side benefit, a tumbling round is far less likely to over penetrate and shoot the hostage behind the terrorist.

The P-90 has gone on to be adopted by a number of agencies around the world. The P-90 was a modest success here in the US on the civilian market. FN, the manufacturer, also developed a pistol, the Five Seven that would use the same cartridge which has also been a modest success in the US civilian marketplace. Since armor piercing ammunition is illegal for pistols, 5.7x28 rounds that were not armor piercing were created for the US civilian market.

Then controversy hit. Gun control people hated the Five Seven. They claimed it was armor piercing and thus illegal. Like the vast majority of gun control sewage, that was a lie. The Five Seven with civilian ammo has the same possibility, fired from a pistol, to be armor piercing as any other pistol. The armor piercing ammo is illegal for sale on the civilian market, so a Five Seven pistol firing non-armor piercing 5.7x28 ammo is as legal as any other gun. Of course, the gun control people haven't met a chance to lie and deceive they haven't grabbed with both hands.

All that said, the 5.7x28 was a very interesting choice. I had chosen my 10mm because I was looking for better penetration and damage, both likely to be necessary when dealing with things that go bump in the night. The 5.7x28 achieved the same thing, but by going smaller, not larger. The 5.7x28, with the right ammo, could penetrate light body armor, which meant it would do well against a monster's tougher hide. Beyond that, the Five Seven had other advantages. Each magazine could hold twenty rounds! That was a third more than my Glock. There were also thirty round extended magazines available which only added a couple of inches. The 5.7 also was thought to have much better recoil than even a 9mm. That meant one could put a lot more 5.7s down range faster and more accurately. I still wasn't going to give up on my Glock. I had beaten some of the problems with a whole lot of modification. Beyond that, the 10mm still had a lot more grunt than the 5.7, but a good team has variety so the 5.7 made a lot of sense for Travis.

BTW, the sub gun concept isn't completely dead, but major militaries and arms manufacturers rolling out smaller versions of full-size rifles with full size rifle cartridges has put a dent in the concept. The deployment of bullpup rifles like the Tavor, with the best of both worlds, long barrel rifle accuracy and power with sub gun-like length have ushered in a new era.

(Author's Note: Possible spoilers. Yes, the P-90 is a certain height-challenged blond former CPD officer's go to big gun. She has excellent taste. Still, it would have been nice to see JB mention something about her having to make efforts as she left the department to stockpile the SS-190 5.7x28 ammo, i.e. the illegal for civilians but not police much higher performance 5.7x28 ammo her gun consumes and she would want considering the kinds of things she has to shoot at, assuming she would have to pay for it herself, it's expensive, she would be nervous about where money was coming from for a while but this constituted a potentially last chance to buy easily and legally before she left the force. It would have been a dramatic moment.)

I took Travis to a local gun store, Guns Unlimited. They had a Five Seven and a P-90 in stock. I bought them both and all the magazines they had in stock, which wasn't a lot. We also bought a few boxes of ammo.

The Five Seven was shelved right next to a Beretta P X 1. I remembered thinking, at least the Five Seven's not an overpriced piece of junk like that. Imagine if you lived in some gun control hellhole that would only allow ten round magazines. Might as well go line up so the Fuhrer could tattoo your slave number on you.

As we drove back to his apartment, Travis asked, "Why'd you buy the P-90? I've never used one of those."

"You've used a pistol and a bolt action rifle. In the kind of situations we get into, you might want something that's ready for a higher intensity challenge. Imagine if you could have shot fifty rounds before you had to reload at the cabin?" I answered.

"I have to admit, that makes some sense." He replied.

I had my materials people get to work on some holsters for Travis. I have some holsters from Stealthgear and G-Code that I liked and liked better remade by me from improved Type A. Every piece of rigid gear one carries has a price in bulk and weight that slows you down. I figure if they contribute back what they're supposed to, and a little armor protection too, that's better.

I started talking to my gun people. I put an order in for a McMillan TAC-338 and a GA Precision Gladius. Why these rifles? Let's just say they're very popular in the sniper community. Then I ordered big skids of ammo in 5.7x28, some bulk .308 from IWI and some Black Hills Match for .308 and .338. It took some doing but I also got 5000 rounds of the SS-190 ammo for the 5.7x28, yes, the illegal armor piercing kind. I also made sure Travis had a batch of mags for each gun, including some thirties for the Five Seven pistol.

"These are a lot of guns and some big piles of ammo." Travis said.

"Yes, they are. I expect you to get to the range and get them all worked up with their scopes." I answered. I had also bought him a couple Nightforce ATACR 5-25x56 scopes for the rifles.

"Okay." He said. I sensed he was a little overwhelmed.

"Look, I tried to replace what you've lost. Not necessarily with exactly what you lost, but the best stuff that's available now. If there's something big I've missed, let me know. If there's something small, like cleaning kits or something. Just get it. Make sure you've got good hearing and eye protection." I said.

I almost read off the standard NRA firearms safety rules and held myself back as it would be pompous and patronizing.

"Oh, the special 5.7x28, that's for 'work' so don't use that up at the range." I added, probably unnecessarily.

"I'll get right on it." He answered.

"I know you will. I have confidence. Remember we have no idea what's coming next. The difference between you being 99 and 100% could be the difference between us living and dying." I said, perhaps too melodramatically.

I was getting work done, spending time with Cassie, but there were a lot of annoyances too. The girls were dressing more conservatively these days. That made sense and I didn't mind. They were spending more time out at class and at home we were much more likely to have guests, Travis, Jake, and even Kelly and Michael. That didn't bother me. But I had noticed Travis making a point of hanging out and flirting with Miranda. At one level, that didn't bother me. Miranda was a free person. I had no chain on her. I could depend on her to be loyal to me. The plan was for her to move on in a few months when she graduated anyway. On another level it drove me nuts! I wanted to challenge Travis for dominance and rip him limb from limb. I'd like to blame it all on the wolf, but it included a lot of the old me too and was playing havoc on all my geeky insecurities.

Then there was the call from Vinton.

My cell phone rang, and I could see the call was from Dark Glass, so I answered, "Hello, this is Dr. Fox."

"Hello," the voice on the other end of the phone answered. "My name is Carl Vinton. You commissioned the services of eight of our security specialists and they are now all dead. I'm sure you can understand our concern."

"I know they failed in their task and placed my associates and myself in greater danger." I answered. No point in being too nice, I just knew this was going to get ugly.

"As a firm, we need to know what happened when eight of our employees die. Families need to have explanations. Our firm needs to know what went wrong. If we can't determine what went wrong, we'll have to cease to do business with you and your firm. We'll also have to investigate aggressively." He answered. His tone letting me know they were ready to get ugly to get their answers.

That was bad. I was kind of depending on Dark Glass for their counter-surveillance and I wanted to be able to commission similar services in the future. Further, I had access to Dark Glass through a client. If I screwed up the relationship between that client and Dark Glass, that could be a problem. Lastly, while he didn't say it directly, there was a clear implication they could get a lot more nasty if they didn't get their answers.

"When someone commissions your firm's services, they expect a certain level of competence and discretion, of which I have received neither. I'd imagine at this point I'd be due an apology and a refund." I answered.

That threatened them on the same level. If it got around that Dark Glass wasn't competent and discreet that would be a problem for them. Further I was saying I wasn't intimidated because I was a tough cookie. In fact, though, I was crazy intimidated!

"I'm afraid we need to have a better understanding of what happened at Antelope." He said, his voice saying, "we're ready to go the wall to get what we need." Antelope was one of several small towns roughly equidistant from Travis' cabin. Mostly because the cabin was in the middle of nowhere.

"Look, I'm not saying I know anything that's not already in official police reports. However, if I did, I wouldn't want to say anything over the phone that might incriminate me. You have to understand I'm in a delicate situation here." I said hoping that we might get to a compromise.

"I can see that and as long as you are not directly responsible for any of their conditions, we would not wish to change our business relationship or compromise your situation." He answered in a more conciliatory tone. No doubt reflecting that he thought he was going to get what he wanted.

"I might be willing to put together a hypothetical story. Something that could not have possibly happened that might satisfy your concerns, at least as they apply to me." I offered.

"That might work…" Vinton began.

"But I warn you, it might involve fantastical elements not normally found on police reports." I interjected.

"We've reviewed the physical evidence at this point. We know that some very 'fantastical' elements played a role. We have previous experience with such elements. We would want to hear your hypothetical story." He answered.

"How about this. I go get one of your boys by my house. I take him somewhere nice. No tech. I give him a phone. He calls you. I'll tell him the magic story. No promises, but I might be willing to answer a question or two if I felt some good will." I offered.

"I accept." He answered.

"Call you back in a bit." I said.

I immediately called Travis and Jake.

Jake drove out of my place in the truck with me in the back seat. I knew the Dark Glass guys and picked one up quick. I then drove a short distance to the Starbucks. When we got out, I left the spare phone in my truck. I pressed a button on my phone that put all my gear in protected mode and let a magic pulse fly. The Dark Glass agent, I was pleased to note, had several spots where his body popped and smoked. We then went inside.

I found a nice booth and Jake, with his bat prominently held, sat down at another table nearby looking menacing.

I handed the Dark Glass agent the phone and sat back in the booth to wait as the Dark Glass man, six two of mid-thirties security professionalism started dialing. While he dialed, I gave him the magic once over, he was vanilla human.

"Before we start, I just wanted to thank you and the other gentlemen for protecting my home. I'm very grateful." I said while he dialed.

He stopped dialing for a second and said, "Oh, you're welcome." In a very human and slightly surprised tone.

He finished dialing. A few seconds later Vinton's voice came from the phone and said, "Please tell me this hypothetical story."

I said, to check the speakerphone, "Can you hear me?"

"Yes," he replied.

"For some time, I have been having a disagreement with an evil wizard. I'd be willing to let bygones be bygones if he would just move on, but he won't. I had not been expecting a fight when we went to my friend's cabin in Wyoming, but I thought it reasonable to take some basic precautions, hence your men. The last I heard from them was the night before I proceeded to the cabin where they told me all was well. Unfortunately, by the time I reached the cabin, the men were dead and re-animated as zombies. I would like to point that out clearly, they were all dead when I got there. Clearly my adversary had his way with them." I said.

"They weren't animated when the authorities arrived. They looked like they had been dead for some time but had walked to a certain point where their heads had been blasted." The Dark Glass agent conveyed.

"Well I'm actually a magical holy man and said a prayer to banish evil creatures and that seemed to work." I said.

"At some point, all the animated creatures, whether they were blasted or not seem to have stopped." He conveyed.

"I'm very devout." I answered.

"I feel like there are important details you aren't giving." He said.

"I feel like I'm telling you everything I know and everything that's relevant. After I returned all the creatures to their just rest, I would have felt the need to leave quickly, but not without leaving an associate to speak with the authorities." I answered.

"What about the evil wizard, was he there?" He asked.

"I'm not sure. I never saw him. It's possible he was close by and left when his minions stopped, or he may have been doing everything from a distance. If you're looking for the responsible party, you should talk to him." I answered.

I then got a signal on my cell phone as the Dark Glass guy started to speak again.

I interrupted "I have really conveyed to you everything I know. Whatever else you hope to learn, or gain, is really a waste of time. Regardless, you should call off your men. I'm pretty sure I have the drop on them, and this could get real messy in the middle of town fast."

The signal was from Travis who was set up on a nearby rooftop and had let me know that Dark Glass agents were moving into position to storm the Starbucks.

The man at the table tried to draw a pepper spray can. I was at full on now. It was amazing how slow he seemed. Before I had to do anything, Jake reached over with the handle of his bat and pulled the guy's chair over dumping him on the floor. I picked up the pepper spray can, kicked off his shades and sprayed his face. The guy fell apart, screaming and crying. Must be some good stuff.

I picked up the phone and said, "This is going to get very expensive for you very fast. You already know everything."

Over the phone Vinton replied, "I feel like there is more you're not telling us. We need to know that too. However, just don't hurt my man in there anymore, and we'll back off."

"I'll let him be. However, I have to let you know that as of now, you're firm is being let go. I've also had a conversation with my client," I'd been talking to the client in question in the back seat of my truck.

"They agree that you're services are no longer necessary. They're exercising their right under article 9 of your contract to release your firm's services without further remuneration." I said.

"Hey, that is not appropriate…" he began.

"Yes, it is, and you can fight, but I can assure you, you'll lose." I said. Then added, "You can cut your losses here and accept that I have told you everything and the truth or you can push it. If you push it with my client, that will be bad. You might win someday, but it will bankrupt your firm. I suggest you make a smart decision and back the hell off. I don't want to see a Dark Glass person ever again. Do you understand?"

"Yes. I understand. I need to get my guy." He replied.

"We'll put him in the bathroom. You can come get him later." I said.

Jake and I carried the guy to the bathroom and helped him wash his face which seemed to take the suffering down from existential to just bad weeping. Then we left.

We collected Travis who had been on a nearby roof with the TAC-338.

What a mess.

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