Chapter 29

Ian had finally taken to the field. As chief inspector, information guild master and many other titles his job entailed, Ian languished for a decade or so being stuck in the office; his role became more administrative. Instead of patrolling the streets and back alleys of the magical communities across the North American continent, he was confined to his office most days; operating as the brain of the entire Information Guild. He yearned for the simpler days when he was out among the earthers and humans. He had tried his utmost to spread good will amongst the earther community during his official operations. He was rewarded for his effort, the streets were peaceful, crime was low. The talented dark magicians who sought out power, hungry with ambition, starving for control, looking to dominate either earther, humans or both, were dealt with either directly but more often indirectly. It was because of his effort alone that the schism between earthers and draegun had not grown into outright conflict. And despite the loudest voices, of course being critical of the Ddyllewech dragon’s rule, they were only a minority; the majority were content and satisfied with the cohabitation.

Yet here he was. A nameless enemy reached out to touch a place they shouldn’t have. And they were about to pay. They were in the back alleys of Brera, a suburb of Milan. Recently, quite recently, the Ndraghetta, the human organized mafiosos from Calabria had a resurgence in Milan after crackdowns by the Italian government. And dark magicians were drawn to organized crime like a lone light in the darkness draws the moths. Although the reality was that the Ndraghetta never left, their seats of power were still in the quiet suburbs of Milan where the officials would not think to look.

This operation needed stealth, but also aggressiveness. Ian exited his room, with a lit cigarette in his lips. They were in a stakeout in view of the Caglia family modern stronghold: a vast apartment complex. Built with substandard material, and questionable techniques, like most mafia public contracts, the building regulations were avoided and the officials paid off to keep quiet. The worlds of crime that thrived in the shadows, and the earther communities that stayed in the hidden places of Earth intersected and overlapped frequently, especially in larger cities. Most of the residents were Earthers, and most never knew that this was the seat of an old family. Ian reached the staircase as William joined him.

“Top o’ the morning boss”, William said with a cheerful countenance, his orange whiskers spreading to reveal his dazzling white teeth in a smile clenching his ever-present pipe.

“Most of the residents are Earthers, some are humans, and some are mafia”, Ian said as he acknowledged William’s greeting with a nod, “We need to be quick and decisive while being discrete in this raid. How much personnel do we have?”.

“We have ten from the Caesers, and forty of our own inspectors”, William began to speak in his deep bass voice as they travelled down the narrow staircase towards the lobby.

The soles of their shoes echoed in the tiled stair case.

“Recently, it seems the Caglia have taken an antagonistic stance towards the Draegun, someone is influencing them. They used to care little for anything else except for money, but ever since the quartet that dared to touch Amy and were extradited back to Milan, the Caglia’s declared themselves independent”, Ian said as he swiftly turned and walked down another flight of stairs.

“That’s stupid. If they draw attention to themselves, it makes business scarce”, William replied with a puzzled look.

“Exactly”, Ian responded, “Mafia don’t like attention, only the foolish failures appear on the papers and newsfeeds. Those with ties to dark magicians even more so. It’s the reason there hasn’t been a move on the Caglias. They keep quiet focus on making money, and remain hidden like ninety percent of the competent mafiosos. Yet now they clearly make themselves a target suddenly. I think they are going to dig in and resist. They definitely have something to hide”.

“I agree”, William nodded as they entered the lobby after a lengthy descent.

Ian broke his meticulously measured stride for a moment, as he nodded at the agents gathered, “Let’s go”.

“Si Signore”, the captain of the Caeser dragon team saluted.

Ian sighed inwardly, the Caesers were not as relaxed as the Ddyllewech, they prided themselves on being proper, unlike Julius who cared little for ceremonies.

Ian stood and took a drag from his cigarette in the early hours of the morning, the sun had yet to reveal itself. Ian stared up at the orangish streetlight creating a glowing haze around it in the fog of the still dark morning. They all finished smoking, a coping mechanism for most dragons who missed the smoke emitted from the fire that was ever lit in their bellies in their dragon form. Those that spent more time in their human like appearance were the heaviest of smokers. Which all present were a part of that category.

As Ian flicked his cigarette away onto the street, he uttered a few words with a firm resolve in his eyes, “Keep it tight, I don’t want any deaths, injuries I don’t care”.

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Ian opened the door without looking back and entered the driver’s seat of the lead Maserati Levante. William entered the passenger seat quietly. The engine came to life with a deep rumble as Ian pressed the ignition button. The motorcade silently departed.

Both Ian and William were silent. This would be difficult as the targets were likely hostile and would resist. All the advantages a dragon had were stripped when in an urban operation. There rules of engagement were restricted, and even though their prey could possibly resort to lethal resistance, they could not allow a single earther, human, or draegun casualty. Although with his words Ian conveyed that most of the restrictions would be ignored, but there could not be a single death.

Quietly they arrived at their destination, the narrow streets stifled by the four-story building that lined the block, when the Caglia’s operations were entering a lull. When most of the associates were finishing their obligations and returning home as they operated under the cover of night.

Ian felt relieved to be out on the streets instead of couped up in an office. In a field operation was where he thrived. He parked, he exited the vehicle, and he opend the door with a wave of his hand unlocking the door, ignoring the security devices installed. The whole team moved behind him earnestly in unison. It was a frontal assault, no deception or guile. It was a concise, clear, targeted, and direct move. The agents of the guild in their black suits flowed through the double doors. The reception desk attendants gasped as Ian approached with his dark grey trench coat black vest, white shirt, and black slacks.

With the imposing William at his back, he spoke swiftly and firmly, “This is official CI business do not interfere, if you do you will be detained”.

They nodded silently as he strode past them behind the desk with firm purposeful steps. The agents streamed past the surprised staff members. Ian’s magic was not as comprehensive or grand as Liam’s. But he had a certain knack for clandestine magic that was superior to Liam. Without breaking stride, he waved his hands at a bare wall behind the desk in the offices, and the illusion spell was cancelled immediately, revealing a door that led downwards into the beating heart of Caglia criminal activity.

To avoid the escape of suspects they penetrated the headquarters, like the swift stab of a scalpel into soft flesh. As soon as Ian opened the door two men jumped out of their seats that were on either side of a door. Ian lept forward, his feet not uttering a single sound. With a sweep of his hand his lethal Shinsai katana was exposed from beneath the trench coat. His right hand shot forward in a straight line. The tip of his blade followed and the paralyze spell he had enchanted on his blade just for this operation worked its wonders. With just a small nick both foes had been silenced. And before their unconscious bodies thudded on the floor, his bloodless katana was returned to its sheath; and Ian was walking down yet another stair case that led into the bowels of this dark establishment.

Down the stairs, their landing and entrance was swift, forceful, and awe inspiring. The security rushed over, and the conflict began. They were in a large underground warehouse like structure where all kinds of illicit magical items, drugs, and illegal arms had been gathered. Like a wave they pushed through the resisting line of the mafia’s security personnel. It was utter chaos. Shouts and curse words flew, grunts and groans were clearly audible. Ian could hear the impact of William’s tonfas against the skulls of his attackers, like a warship Ian cut through the waves of bodies that pressed upon to end his life as silent hooded assassins emerged. The elite forces of the Caglia that only worked in the shadows, armed with dark lethal magic that warped the psyche they only thirsted for blood. It was reminiscent of the feeling when facing the black horde of monsters in his homeland. Yet all were equally powerless before his sword. A swift cut left, an upward strike from the bottome right, a stab; small surgical incisions Ian made, as the unconcsious began to fall creating a terrible wake. Only forty against scores of angry attackers, yet the dragons prevailed. Figures shot through the air, and the sounds of poisoned daggers colliding with batons and other non-lethal weapons rang out everywhere. It was a party of violence, and Ian was the M.C.

After subjugating the entire main open area of the large underground warehouse, the fighting in between all the shelves stock full of illegal goods had stopped. The ground was littered with beaten unconscious barely breathing bodies. Now the team ran their course through the fluorescent-bulb lit walls and corridors that led to the center of this criminal enterprise. Room by room, department by department they moved swiftly subduing any occupants. Then finally Ian opened the door of the don’s office. A grizzly sight awaited him. Blood was on the walls the floor and the ceiling. The don was dead. Instead, the one sitting behind the desk was a man who seemed to be in his sixties for a human. The disfigured, dismembered bodies littered the floor, like the individual was hoarding cadavers, some whole, some in pieces. He eyed Ian silently as he smoked a cigar that was stained with the blood of his victims.

Ian glared at the man in a black suit, and a tieless red shirt. His dark jet-black sunglasses contrasted greatly with his white hair, hiding his eyes.

With an entertained expression, a wide sweeping gesture, and a twisted smirk he opened his mouth, “How is my debut? You like my work?”.

“It seems like it’s time for me to go”, the room was covered in pitch black as the words trailed off.

It was a disgusting darkness that seemed to press upon the skin. For a moment even Ian with his enhanced draconic vision could not see. As he blinked light was there again and the man was gone.

“What the fuck?!”, Ian uttered, a rare cussword escaped his dignified demeanor as he looked over the pitiful bodies that had been slain so ruthlessly.

It was a mess, a bloodbath.

This was very serious, and the power that individual had was like nothing he had ever felt before.

“Signore”, a Caeser dragon approached him, after a few moments, “We will begin rounding up and escorting all the prisoners to our detention center”.

Ian nodded with a bewildered expression. Suddenly everything became much more serious, and he exchanged glances with William as he quietly and swiftly left to return to his office. Leaving William to organize the incarceration.

He needed to contact Liam immediately and share this information. He was shocked to find such a strong insipid power lurking behind this now ruined criminal enterprise. There were two smells that weighed most on his mind: the smell of a rotted corpse, and the smell of a dragon like himself, but twisted.