I stared at Will, my heart a heavy bass beat vibrating in my ears. He stood at the hotel-room door and looked out of the peephole. Ma’am was out in the hall, using her talent to persuade the two non-witch Russian guards of the room opposite to help her with directions. Once they were suitably distracted, Ma’am was going to taser them. We couldn’t use magic because the witch double agent in the room they were guarding would notice and slip away, and the job we’d been sent to do for MI6 would fail.
I licked my lips. Waiting. Argh. It was the worst.
Crackling came from the hallway. Will ripped the door open, and we ran into the corridor.
Ma’am stood over both men, a Taser in each of her hands. The two men in black suits writhed on the ground. Also, why did bad guys and agents always wear black suits? Was it because the blood didn’t show up? I shook my head to rid it of the thought invader that would surely derail what I was supposed to be doing.
I opened the river to my magic as Will put a keycard against the hotel door. He shoved the door open, and we ran inside.
Two men sat facing each other in plush silvery-blue armchairs. The one facing us jumped to his feet as soon as he saw us. The one with his back to us jerked his head around. His wide eyes took a moment to register we were witches drawing magic, but before he could draw magic of his own, I caught him with a freeze spell. Will sprinted to him and slapped anti-magic cuffs on his wrists. I dropped my spell.
The other man’s lips pinched. His gruff voice made his Russian accent even more fear-inducing. “Vot is meaning of zis?” His hand strayed to his hip. We were warned he would be carrying guns. Yep, not one gun, but possibly several. As per my instructions from Ma’am, I threw a freeze spell on Vladimir Petrov. He wasn’t a witch, so Ma’am was going to have to mind wipe him when MI6 were done with him.
One of the MI6 agents who knew about my talents strode into the room. Cyril Adams, like Will and me, was wearing a black suit and white shirt. I guessed if any of us got sick of the agent life, we could transition easily into waiting tables. The tall, Black man stopped in front of the MI6 double agent. He shoved Agent Barry Smythe back into the chair. Agent Adams folded his arms and peered down at Smythe. “You’re doing this the wrong way around.” Disgust curled his lip. He shook his head, then turned and grabbed a hard plastic foolscap binder folder off the table and a memory stick. He turned to me. “Please ensure you get all the photos we need. I want to make sure this is it.”
“Of course.”
Ma’am walked in and surveyed the scene. She turned to Agent Adams. “Your men have locked those guards in the other suite.” She flicked her gaze to the frozen Russian on the couch. He mightn’t be able to move, but he could hear everything. “You can question him in here, but make sure you get all the information ASAP. The less I have to mind wipe, the better. I’m also going to have to implant some memories.” Her magic prickled my scalp. A plastic binder and memory stick that looked identical to what Agent Adams held appeared in her hands. She put them on the table. “When I’m done, as far as he’ll remember, he’ll have the information he needs. After that, Barry is going to disappear.” She gave Barry a stern look. I was glad I wasn’t Barry. Ma’am’s death stares could strike fear into the hardest of hearts. God knew I’d suffered my share.
The Russian guy wasn’t as hard to hold a freeze spell on compared to a witch, so I could afford to wait until someone told me to let up.
Barry’s worried gaze found the door, and he jumped up. I opened my mouth to warn everyone, but Will was on top of it. He threw his own freeze spell on the man and addressed both Ma’am and Cyril. “I’m going to take him to MI6 headquarters. I’ll see you there later.”
“Good-o.” Ma’am’s chin rose in dismissal. She turned to Cyril. “We’ll stay for the interview process. Lily can do her thing, and you do yours. I want this wrapped up in two hours. Would you like a truth spell on him?” That was usually illegal, but when you were working with MI6, legality was a formality apparently. I couldn’t help smiling at my little rhyme. Angelica gazed at me, one eyebrow raised. Her look said she didn’t want to know. I bit my lip and did my best serious face, which was pretty rubbish since one corner of my mouth was still quirked up.
Cyril grinned, missing our interaction. “Does an Englishman love his football? Yes, please.” He cuffed the Russian and stood over him while Ma’am cast her spell. With that done, she gave me a curt nod, and I dropped my freeze spell.
While Ma’am and Cyril got to work interrogating the Russian spy, I did my photo thing. Excitement and fear built in my belly. Once this was done, we’d have given Ma’am’s boyfriend, Phillip, and MI6 their favour, and it would be time for them to reciprocate.
We were going to neutralise the directors and their criminal associates once and for all.
