Hector leaned in to mutter to Wilkeson. "Who the hell is this guy?"

Wilkeson's only response was a grim frown.

Levi slipped a flash drive into a laptop and deftly pulled up a set of slides, which were projected onto a whiteboard behind him. The first slide featured a map of a curiously shaped island. "You've heard of Antemyst," he began. "It's an island nation, specifically an atoll in the Pacific Ocean. It's a haven for Gifteds and nonhumans, and its economy is typically closed to the rest of the world. Tourism, especially, is a no-go for normal humans."

Pausing for a moment, Levi looked around the room. "All right, I'm seeing some blank faces. Quick history: Antemyst was a part of Almajoya, the other Gifted haven, up until the 18th century. At that point, there was some disagreement as to whether Gifteds should play nice with normies or keep to themselves. So they amicably parted, with those for isolation decamping to Antemyst. Force shield goes up, we hear next to nothing from them after that.

"Fast forward to modern times. We get Melisma Ramijozana's coup in Almajoya. Here in the States, we start banning Gifteds from using their superpowers, and we start forcing them to register and all that. This kicks off a lukewarm war between the States and not just Almajoya, but also the Gifted Diaspora, the stateless group that supposedly represents all Gifteds everywhere. Then we get the Fall of Japan, and both sides get a little quieter. It becomes a war of recon. Almajoya builds a scary fucking cyber task force, and cretins like us get sent to the Pacific on spy-movie shit."

He flipped to a new slide, and the image of a small, apparently young woman with curly brown hair and a welcoming smile, against the backdrop of a national flag featuring the colors of a sunset behind a black sun, appeared on the whiteboard. "Today, now that Gifteds are back in the public eye, Antemyst does interact with the rest of the world on a very limited level. Antemyst's leader, Crystalline Fosterman, sometimes attends international events at the UN and suchlike, but we know precious little about the nation itself. Especially considering that what we do know is pretty much stuff she has told us.

"One of her more outlandish claims is that Antemyst is an empire that's home to more than two billion people. The atoll definitely can't support that many people. We know there's a seastead within the atoll, one that has several skyscrapers, but we don't think the seastead can hold that many people either."

"So what? We're going to count the people out there?" one man interrupted, disgusted. He ran a rough hand over his sandy blond hair, combed and slicked back. "We're census takers now?"

"Why not, Ryder?" Hector returned. "You see we're equal opportunity mercs now."

Both men smirked at Levi.

"Fosterman has made that claim for years. No one has given much of a fuck," Levi continued, ignoring the heckling. "Until now. Now, it turns out she might not be lying."

"How's that?" a bookish man asked. He wore his long brown hair in a ponytail that he'd clearly pulled up right before walking into the work that day, and his glasses carried an impressive amount of soot.

"Over the past several months, the aeronautical departments of several countries have noted an increase of launches into orbit coming from Antemyst," Levi replied. "But that's not all. They aren't launching satellites into orbit. They're manned ships that are leaving the solar system completely... and heading toward a signal in deep space."

Hector scowled. "The fuck? There's never been a manned space mission beyond the Moon."

"Right. If this intel is correct, then it means that Antemyst has somehow gotten way ahead of the rest of the world." Levi shrugged. "That's where we come in. Our job is to find out what operations Antemyst has going into space and to, if possible, shut them down."

"Fine," the fourth man said. "What do we need you for?"

"The force shield." Levi's response was simple. "Antemyst is covered by it. The only way to get in there without permission is to use a specialized type of magick."

"That's not all," Wilkeson said from the back of the room. "Antemyst's defense forces are made up of Gifteds and mages. If we cross paths with them, the fight won't be in our favor."

"Easy enough," the fourth man said.

Wilkeson chuckled wryly. "Hold your horses there, Grant."

Levi nodded. "There's a complication. If Antemyst does have advanced space-ready tech, we have an idea of who might have designed it."

He clicked through to the next slide. It featured a business portrait of a fair-skinned young man, smiling through blue-green eyes and the wild black hair framing his face.

Everyone in the room swore.

"So you recognize him," Levi said dryly.

"Of course," Hector spat. "Christian Moynahan. Fucking King Pansy."

"Creeper," Levi corrected, albeit tempering his own sarcasm. "Moynahan is a Fae, not a Gifted. We know that he and his company designed the communications grid and closed internet for Antemyst and Almajoya. And even with all the software and hacking shit he's in the news for right now, let's not forget that he started out as a propulsion engineer."

"At DefenSense," the woman said.

"That's right. Building war machines for a private contractor." Levi nodded. "And that's the trouble. Moynahan had a prolific career working on everything from commercial aircraft to top-secret drone and bomber projects. He's been a problem for years, but he's untouchable. Nearly every modern aircraft designed by and for the government has his fingerprints on it, and in reverse, he was read in on all of that shit."

The woman grimaced a bit. "Which is exactly why no one's done anything about him yet. Nothing that they're admitting to, at least."

"Right," the bookish man said. "So you're putting together as small a group as possible so we don't sneeze too hard out there."

"You got it, Will. Listen close," Wilkeson said. "Y'all know, and I know, that we are acting at the behest of the U-nited States Government. But this mission is clandestine as it gets. We don't have clearance to be messing around out there. Antemyst ain't an ally, but they definitely ain't an enemy yet. The only thing we got on 'em is that they're close with the Almajoyese, who are our enemies. But that ain't gon' stand for shit if our bosses gotta explain themselves. Therefore: If we're spotted, if we leave a trace, if we all get captured and thrown in some pansy prison, we will be on our own. So we're gonna do the best we can to make sure that does not happen. Understood?"

"Yes, Captain," everyone but Levi answered.

"I'll be in command, as usual," Wilkeson said. "Levi is my second. He gives you an order, you follow it like it came from me."

The others were a bit slow with their affirmations this time.

"Will, Evelyn, you're on tech. I want you to analyze everything you get your hands on. Space tech, comms, everything we see. Grant, you're our point man. Get us as much data on Antemyst as you can ahead of time, and liaise with the aeronautical community to learn what you can about whatever Fosterman's been firing off. Ryder, routes. Maps, ingress, egress. Get us in, around, and out in one piece. Hector, you're damage. Cover our tracks and, if it's absolutely necessary, set us up good in any fights. You'll have to work with Levi on that, because he's our magic guy. He'll also be researching the force shield and any other magic Antemyst is using as tech."

Everyone nodded.

"Levi's gonna hand you your briefings. Look over them and get started on your assignments. Also, make sure Levi gets set up comfortable here. We'll reconvene at 2100."

"One moment," Levi interrupted, his words slow and his tone wary. "There's something I really want to emphasize for y'all."

Wilkeson tilted his head toward Levi. "Go ahead, son."

Levi took a deep breath. Then he looked around the room. "This isn't something I like to say, all right? Understand that when it comes to the magicked world, I'm one of the best there is, hands down. But. One of."

He nodded at the whiteboard. "We really don't want either of the leaders—Fosterman or Ramijozana—getting personally involved in this. American intelligence has never confirmed the extent of their abilities. But I'll tell you this right now. If you're counting on me to be your magic defense, then please make godsdammed sure that we do not get into a fight with Christian Moynahan. He's more powerful than me by orders of fucking magnitude. If I have to fight him, we will lose."

Hector chuckled. "You're telling me you can't handle one little nutjob? One who's probably never seen a day of training beyond some YouTuber playing at CrossFit?"

Levi rolled his eyes. "For one, don't fucking assume. For another, if it came down to skill and training, I'd kick his ass back to breakfast. Power has nothing to do with that. If it interests you, I'll explain the scales and balances sometime. But right now, I'm saying this: Keep an eye on Moynahan at all times. If he leaves New Orleans at any point, I want to know about it."

"That's easy enough to do, son. I'll take care of that," Wilkeson said. "Let's call it a night for now. Meeting adjourned."

The group broke up. Will ended up showing Levi to the guest room. Fortunately, Levi needed very little, and he sent the man away in short order.

Everyone else set about their evening tasks. Most of the staff went home. The Antemyst team stayed. Hector reclined in the break room, in front of the TV (which was working again), reading his deployment notes. Trent, the reedy man who had backed him up in the fight with Levi, sat next to him.

"This creeper walks in and immediately has control of the place, and the captain's practically licking his shoes," Trent observed. "Something don't add up."

"Seems to me we oughta do our own recon," Hector remarked, leaning back in the sofa. "Make sure we know who we're dealin' with."

Evelyn entered the room in time to hear Hector's comment, and she scoffed. "You don't think Wilkeson would have done that already? Or the brass at HQ?"

"You're defending the creeper?" Trent asked at the same time that Hector replied, "I ain't said that. I'm sayin' we oughta do our own too."

"Yeah. Doesn't sound like Cap'n's willin' to talk," Trent added.

Evelyn shrugged. "Then it's not our business. This guy's not one of us. He's never gonna be one of us. It's one job. For once, could y'all keep your heads down and not be jerks?"

Trent snorted. "Why? You think we're gonna scare him off?"

"Think for a second," Evelyn retorted. "He kicked your asses, both of you. Then he conjured up an army to kick everyone's asses. Then he healed everyone. That is a ton of power. Right now, he's gonna use it to help us crack this case. You wanna put him in a position where he could use it against us?"

Hector rolled his shoulders. Trent sighed.

"Mark my words. Steer clear of him." Evelyn folded her arms and left.

The two men looked at each other.

"I'll do some research and send it to you," Trent said.

Hector nodded.