World Warlock: Case File Group One: Case of the Dragon Pilot, and Other Stories

By R.L. Chaucer and Callie Blackwell

In a world parallel to our own, where the ability to hide magic is fading away—faster still with the digital age—a coalition of law enforcement officers, intelligence agents, soldiers, and specialists have all been given one job: stop World War III. But who will start it? This is where the fun begins.

This group, known as the Cabal (gross, we know, right?), has made it their mission to keep the world safe from any threats to peace, freedom, and the safety of all human and inhuman kind. These are their stories.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 18, 2022
• ISBN: 9781669858201

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Copyright © 2022 by R.L. Chaucer and Callie Blackwell.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction, Similarities and relations to real-world individuals living, dead, and fictional are purely coincidental. Getting that knowledge, there is another disclaimer on the next page to get you into the mood for what you are about to read. Take this disclaimer to heart, not the other one.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 12/15/2022

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Contents

Cabal personnel files

Case 0

Case 1

Case 1.2

Debrief of Case 1

Case 2

Case 2.1

Case 2.2

Debrief of Case 2

Case 3

Case 3.1

Case 3.2

Case 3.3

Debrief for Case 3

Case 4

Case 4.2

Case 4.3

Case 4.4

Case 4.5

Debrief of Case 4

Case 5

Case 5.1

Case 5.2

Case 5.3

Debrief of Case 5

While this is a work of fantasy and is not real in the slightest,

names have been changed throughout the story to protect the

innocent and guilty alike. Events inside may or may not be

directly inspired by recent events at the time of writing and the

conspiracy theories surrounding them. While all factual info is

cleared for your viewing through the Freedom of Information Act

in the United States, and its equivalents overseas for your eyes,

there are large amounts of it select individuals do not want you to

know. Proceed to read with caution. And verify at your own risk.

Content not appropriate to be read in your country for any reason

will be redacted in black. It is the responsibility of the publisher

to see that is done, though the authors will attempt to do this

preemptively to lighten the workload of regionalization teams.

But since they are from America, this means redactions will

only be appropriate for the United States in the original text.

CABAL PERSONNEL FILES

Call sign: Don Quixote

Real name: Harold Miles

AKA: Edgar Wright, Dimitri Desnov, Dimitri Derrickson

Species: Samodivic fairy (changeling/human hybrid, unseelie)

Government background: FBI MIB 3, United States Army

Class 2.5 wizard

Higher clearance required

Call sign: Sabrina

Real name: Suzie Chen

AKA:

Species: Human

Government background: SAPD (San Antonio Police Department)

Class 2 Wizard

Higher clearance required

Call sign: Godson

Real name: Jamal Haverstine

AKA: Butterfly Billy

Species: Human

Government background: Jail time (Swiss Mafia)

Class 1 Wizard

Higher clearance required

Call sign: Flicker

Real name: Unknown

AKA:

Species: Pixie (Seelie)

Class 3 Wizard

Higher clearance required

Call sign: Moonlight

Real Name: Constance Solancae

AKA: Connie (by a select few)

Species: Human

Class 2 Wizard

Higher clearance required

Call sign: Sparks

Real Name: Huebert Quisling Long

Species: Dragon (Peking Red Dragon)

Class 3 wizard

Higher clearance required

CASE 0

Prologue

Case details from an excerpt of the journal of special agent Don Quixote modified to fit a novel format

U sually election days are tense. A change of power is nothing new within the United States, even more so one brought about by the vote of the people. But nothing could really compare the aftermath of the election of Aaron D. House. Special Agent Quixote, who is me, was a kind of friend of Sheriff Huey Long. I found him in the bar that the Republican National Committee was renting out as it went down, while those who call themselves the Workers Party, the Democrats, had their big conference hall that they usually did. When the electoral spoke, the response was Pharrell Williams’ Happy, much as the artist probably would not have wanted us to use this. But we didn’t care. We legitimately thought better days were ahead. How could we be so right and so wrong at the same time? The only ones that were not dancing was me—well, me and good old Huey. His wife was working that day, so I was asked to be his plus one. As a practical joke that she would approve of, me being a shape-shifter, I took a form that was almost a perfect replica of hers, only shorter. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and Scandinavian pale skin. Not to mention she had a decent set of knockers on her. My friend Huey probably is one of the luckiest men on the planet if you ignore his full name.

With this over, I didn’t feel comfortable holding the form anymore. I unknotted my shirt and slowly changed form. Hairstyle changing from long waves of blonde hair to that of a short spiky brown. A generous bust retreating to that of the size of muscled pectorals, and the feminine structure changing to a masculine one in all departments. The shapeshifting of genitalia is often the hardest, but I do it anyway to help maintain the cover in the event of perverts. Besides, I had that one general rule after the 80s: I don’t do drag anymore. Way too easy to win with my set of talents, and it never felt right to shape-shift into a man pretending to be a woman. It’s simpler in my mind and psyche to just be. With my height changing from five eleven to a comfortable six foot one, that was when my friend Huey finally caught me.

God damn it, Don, someone’s going to catch you doing that eventually.

Hubert Quisling Long, a Chinese man whose more human side of his appearance is heavily deceiving. At six feet four inches, he is a little taller than most. A slim build that would have complemented an ancient pilot. His less than human appearance is a twelve foot long East Asian dragon with red scales. Sheriff of New York—an anomaly for the town itself, which is historically the centerpiece of a blue state. He was a practicing Buddhist, which is already an anomaly within law enforcement. And he was also a Republican who kept winning with landslide victories despite his opponents’ best efforts. But he was enjoying an e-cig with the usual custom juice he preferred, while I was enjoying a cigar from South Carolina. The fact they were legal now thanks to Obama didn’t make me any more comfortable smoking a Cuban, or worse, a joint from down in Amsterdam. He kind of felt the same way since he already had to cut back on the nicotine with him now being a father.

Everybody’s too busy celebrating to give a damn. And the only reason I’m here is because my political party is regarded as a joke. Besides, why aren’t you celebrating? I said as I buttoned my shirt back up.

Huey then took a large swig of his drink before speaking again. We passed the test when the correct answers were not even on the ballot this year.

Carson? I asked, somewhat rhetorically.

Carson, he confirmed, giving a single firm nod as if to add validity to his statement.

This was a surprise for me. I’ve been a Libertarian going on twenty years now. Carson was my clear choice if he had made it to the final two. But to be straightforward, I always found myself surprised that New York had not changed Huey. The air thick from a lack of ozone and industry despite what was happening upstate; the Statue of Liberty, once a golden bronze, now a tarnished and weathered green—a surprising analogy for what the state has become as a whole, especially within the city of New York itself. A city that has fallen under three states regarding the jurisdiction and how it has grown. A city without direction yet desperately trying to push in a direction that those who lived there at the beginning would never approve of in a million years.

But now we were stuck between Sally Slit, an heiress to a curtain company, who got into politics because business was not her strong suit, and Aaron D. House. Only a millionaire because he understood bankruptcy law to where he could exploit it, to where he literally could not lose at business so long as the fail-safes existed. Practically the definition of too big to fail, and his family was too stubborn to admit defeat every time they failed business spectacularly, and from it learned how to do better next time. Which ultimately made Mr. House the richer of the two, despite Mrs. Slit’s long outstanding service to the country. Unfortunately, her most recent tenure as the secretary of state cost her to have her biggest failure that was actually borderline, if not crossing into, treason.

Her defeat at the hands of an educated populace was inevitable; however, America was not known for educated voters then and to this day still isn’t, with many of them forgetting the most important rule of the internet, and many people spamming the internet with their truth rather than the truth. This complaint will come in handy later down the story, of this I am sure. But for now, a night of celebration with a clusterfuck to follow on inauguration day.

In order to understand this story, you need to understand the perspective of the one who lost the most on that day. So, I will attempt to tell the narrative from his perspective. Enter Asam