His phone then buzzed very abruptly, alerting him to a message from Phil and sending his heart-rate soaring. Reading the message neither further raised nor lowered his pulse: “No phone, no signs of anything else. On my way to you.”
Promptly, Jayson’s parents returned to the room. They brought with them the better news that he was on his way and would be there in three or four minutes.
“Jeez, he lives close,” Clark mused. He had a leverage-related reason for not having simply asked for Jayson’s home address, one that he hoped to be able to keep up his sleeve. But it was there if he needed it, in the worst-case scenario that Jayson proved uncooperative with Clark’s search for Tara whether through choice or, more likely in Clark’s eyes, due to external coercion.
Clark made sure to stand out of sight of the front door for the next few minutes, so that Jayson wouldn’t see him until the door was closed.
And more than anything he had ever hoped for in his life, he hoped that Tara would arrive at Jayson’s side.
Almost inevitably, she didn’t.
“You look like hell,” Mrs Moore sighed solemnly as her son stepped inside. She wasn’t wrong; the bags under his eyes looked like those of a man for whom sleep was a mere memory, and the ghostly pale skin looked like it belonged to someone else rather than the bronzed actor Clark remembered.
As Clark stepped forward, Jayson’s expression froze. He didn’t reach for the door, but his body inched towards it.
“Clark is right,” Mr Moore said, “something’s going on, isn’t it?”
Clark strode over with six quick, huge steps, unsubtly positioning himself between Jayson and the door. “You’re not getting away that easily,” he said, disguising it as a light-hearted comment.
“Clark McCarthy, as I live and breathe!” Jayson said, his forced smile fooling his parents but certainly not Clark.
“Nice to meet you,” Clark replied, shaking Jayson’s hand in a way that looked friendly enough but quietly compressed metacarpals with alarming ease.
Jayson winced.
“Some things I’ve heard through the grapevine have me a little worried about some people you might be mixed up with, especially because we have a mutual friend,” Clark went on, patting Jayson on the back so hard that it almost knocked him down. “You know, Tara Ford?”
The look in Jayson’s eyes as Clark said the name was the last one he had hoped to see: primarily fear, but with a strong tinge of guilt. It took everything Clark had not to explode, but he fell back on his training and tried to keep his head in the game. Jayson was the only person who could give him answers, and certain instinctive reactions would greatly reduce the chances of him doing so.
Alas, the leverage was about to come into play.
The familial ace up Clark’s sleeve, which he had dearly wished would stay there, was sadly becoming necessary.
“But anyway, Jayson… we all want what’s best for you, and that’s why I’ve got your parents involved today. That’s why you really don’t want to do anything stupid like turn around and run away,” Clark said. He stared a hole in the former TV star’s tired, bloodshot eyes, gesturing towards Mr and Mrs Moore as they stood uneasily beside their couch: “It’s not just me who wants to help. I care so much, I even got your parents involved! See, Jayson? I’ve got your parents.”
V minus 32
Private Jet
Roatán, Honduras
“Hey,” Emma said softly as she saw Dan stretching himself awake in the private jet that had become his new home away from home. He had significantly overslept again, awoken by an alarm she’d set for as late as possible in an effort to give his body and mind a chance to recover from the previous day’s Cuban exertions. The sheer number of hours he had slept set an expectation in her mind that a repeat of the previous day’s short-term amnesia was almost certainly going to be at play. “Do you know what country we’re in?”
Suddenly wide awake, Dan turned around and stared at her in confusion. “Honduras, obviously. Are you okay?”
“What country were we in yesterday?”
“Cuba,” Dan replied. “Seriously, Emma, is there something—”
“Last one: what country were we in the day before?”
At this, Dan’s expression finally reflected his tired mind’s belated understanding of why Emma was asking these questions. “Oh yeah…” he eventually said. “We were in Argentina two days ago, but I only know that because I remember talking about this yesterday. I still can’t remember Monday at all. My head doesn’t hurt like it did yesterday morning, though, so maybe I’m getting used to the strain of the telepathy?”
Emma’s tense shoulders relaxed with this answer. “So you’re not any worse, and you can remember yesterday. Maybe you just hit a mental fatigue point or something like that on Monday? I guess you can ask the Messengers next time they show up. But as for today, the news from outside is that a sit-down meeting between Godfrey and Ding could be possible in the next few days. We might not have found out for sure where the triangles came from — yet — but this is working, Dan. The outreach narrative the press ran with about our trip to Cuba is actually bridging the gap. I don’t want to assume too much, but maybe the Messengers knew you’d use the power for something like this?”
“I still don’t think we can take it for granted that they meant to give me the power to hear other people’s thoughts at all,” Dan replied. “Because it seems pretty damn unlikely they meant to give me the other power; and if there’s been one unintended side-effect of giving me the ability to hear them from afar, it’s totally plausible for there to have been two. And after everything that happened with Il Diavolo, I’m never going to assume they can predict how people are going to react to anything… that’s not exactly their strong suit.”
Emma shrugged. “Yeah, maybe. I mean, I’m not being flippant or anything, but I guess time will just have to tell on that one. Right now we have one more job to do and that’s finding out what Poppy knows about these triangles and ideally what the hell the GeoSovs really want. Is there something underlying all of this, or is it really just about them opposing further contact? Timo and Clark don’t seem to have had any luck finding out anything about her beyond what we already know, so this is going to be important. You’re going to ask all kinds of questions, and you’ll hear the answers even if no one else does. I want this trip to be over so I can’t even imagine how you’re feeling when you’re the one who has to do everything, but—”
“I’m the one who looks like I’m doing everything,” Dan interrupted with a warm laugh. “Don’t you ever sell yourself short, Emma Ford,” he added, a direct and loving nod to a comment she’d made in the other direction not too long ago.
Emma smiled. “You’re live in twenty minutes, by the way. Short drive to the TV studio, hair and make-up on the way. Ready to go?”
“I’m ready to go home, so let’s get this thing done and get on our way…”
V minus 31
Moore Residence
Archway, Colorado
“Give us a minute,” Clark smiled at Mr and Mrs Moore while he led their desolate-looking 23-year-old son upstairs. “Some of the things we have to discuss might be quite uncomfortable for you to hear.”
Both of Jayson’s parents were shaking their heads, upset and beyond disappointed that he had seemingly fallen back into the bad habits it had finally looked like he’d been able to kick for good.
Jayson, although hesitant, realised he was in no position to resist Clark’s will. Once upstairs, he opened the door to his old childhood bedroom. Clark roughly pushed him inside and closed the door.
“What were you doing in the woods last night and where the fuck is Tara?” he demanded.
As Jayson’s lip began to quiver and his eyes fell to the floor, Clark knew for sure for the first time that he was hiding something. He grabbed Jayson by the collar and effortlessly pressed him against the inside of the door.
“Talk!” Clark grunted, keeping his volume low to
avoid alerting Jayson’s parents but speaking with a breathy intensity more impactful than a shout of any decibel level could ever hope to be.
“They’ll kill me! They’ll kill my parents, they’ll kill my cousins. They’ll—”
Clark pressed his forearm into Jayson’s chest, cutting off his words and causing him to take several quick gasps in a desperate effort to replenish his lungs.
In the last few seconds, all of Clark’s worst fears had been confirmed; Jayson was in over his head with the wrong people, and he had dragged Tara into it.
“I’m not who you think I am,” Clark said, menacingly but almost silently breathing the words into Jayson’s ear. “The gentle giant, the big brother everyone wants… that’s just a picture they paint. So trust me, asshole: whoever’s got you by the balls and whatever they’re holding over your head, there is nothing in this world they could ever do to you that would come close to what I’m capable of.”
Clark leaned back then showed Jayson he meant business by placing a firm hand on his face before squeezing his jaw in a manner that suggested he could start breaking teeth whenever the urge struck.
In his younger years, Clark’s time in the military had provided a structured and positive outlet for channelling the aggressive tendencies that had punctuated his youth. Those years had made him a better man, and the high-risk private security work he took on in Iraq after a medical issue ruled him out of active duty had continued to help keep the beast inside at bay. His current police work occupied his time and mind, but the animal inside was still there. He didn’t like making grave threats to Jayson Moore or anyone else, and he liked even less that he knew the threats weren’t empty.
All signs of fear then faded from Jayson’s eyes in an instant, replaced at once by dejected sorrow. His body slouched forward in a way Clark hadn’t seen since Dan found out the IDA leak was a hoax, and it certainly would have hit the ground had Clark’s arm not been propping it up.
“I didn’t have a choice, man,” Jayson sobbed, abandoning his ongoing effort to keep himself in check. “Not with what he’s holding over me. I took her to the woods and he was waiting.”
“Who?”
“He said he just wanted to ask her some questions while he had the chance, and he promised they wouldn’t hurt her!” Jayson’s words, weak and low, were sometimes difficult to make out through his guilty and fearful tears. “Clark, I swear: he said they won’t hurt Tara… it’s Dan and Emma he wants. He’ll let her go as soon as—”
“Oh, well that’s just fucking fine then,” Clark boomed sarcastically, unconsciously abandoning his strive for quietness. He grabbed Jayson’s jaw again and squeezed harder than ever. “Listen good, you little shit-stain: you’ve got five seconds to tell me who did this and five minutes to take me to wherever he’s hiding.”
“It’s Jack,” Jayson blurted out. “Jack Neal.”
V minus 30
Mirador Hotel
Roatán, Honduras
For Dan McCarthy, the past few days had been a blur. Flights and meetings and debriefings had been his life since leaving Colorado, and the events of one particular day remained truly absent from his conscious memory.
The crowd that gathered to greet him outside of Roatán’s Mirador Hotel was a sizeable one but nothing compared to the sea of humanity he’d encountered in Havana. His meeting with Cole had been the one he was most worried about, since Cole had a reputation for explosive revelations and the rolling live cameras would have placed Dan in an awkward spot if the ELF’s new Western Secretary had made any. The meeting with Cole, though, had also been the one for which Dan had held lower expectations of hearing a major secret in his interviewee’s unspoken thoughts.
The revelation of Cole’s continued working relationship with Jack Neal had been entirely unexpected, but Dan couldn’t even imagine what he was going to get out of Poppy.
This wasn’t the first time he had conversed with her, of course, with Saturday evening’s special episode of Focus 20/20 having put them in direct opposition. Dan hadn’t held back at all on that occasion, outright telling Poppy that he despised her and her role in a group that was the spiritual successor to the defunct Welcomers who tried to kill Timo and Emma in a botched attack.
Today, Emma had told him to focus on getting information out of Poppy rather than attacking her cause. There was no need for that, Emma said; her Social Media Meta Analysis app showed that the GeoSovs were more universally loathed than any other tracked group or individual.
In a small conference room within the hotel, ACN’s Kyle Young began proceedings with some fairly brief introductory remarks, recapping the meeting between Dan and Cole that he’d moderated the previous day and touching on some of the tension-easing political fallout.
Poppy sat at one side of a table with Dan at the other and Kyle to the side. She had several sheets of handwritten notes containing points she wanted to get across, and Dan had a few of his own for the sake of appearances. He wouldn’t need them — not with Emma’s voice in his head — but their absence might have raised unnecessary questions.
Dan thumbed at his notes as a way of masking the finger position he needed to use to establish a connection with Poppy.
Although she looked a picture of confidence, the GeoSov spokesperson’s thoughts immediately betrayed her nerves. Dan took this as a very good sign.
“So Dan, we’ll start with you,” Kyle said at the end of his recap. “What drove you to challenge Poppy to meet you today, and why Honduras?”
This double-question would have been an easy one for Dan to answer on his own, but he stuck with the wording Emma sent his way. Unfortunately, the day’s first meaningful use of his telepathic ability led to a sudden and sharp pain between his eyes.
It took no small effort for Dan not to wince and call out in pain, but even in the moment he knew how bad that would have been when ACN’s live cameras were sending him into living rooms around the world. He didn’t even want to think about what kind of unnecessary questions that might have raised.
Instinctively, Dan reacted to the pain by using his increasing control over the ability to reduce the mental ‘volume’ of the currently superfluous advice Emma was feeding him. Immediately, the pain subsided. He focused on Emma’s thoughts again and felt the uncomfortable sensation once more, at which point he wisely decided he didn’t need her voice right now and that it was better to focus on Poppy if — as was apparently the case — he couldn’t focus on both without a severe physical cost.
Dan began by explaining that the natural limitations of a multi-person Focus 20/20 panel had prevented him from asking as many questions of Poppy as he wanted to.
This hadn’t been his only frustration, of course, but he kept quiet for now about having intended to tell the world of Thursday night’s dream-time contact experience and the heinous GeoSov plot to take President Slater hostage that it had foiled. Events in Vanuatu had put paid to his plans to do so in the show’s last few minutes and the pace of events since then, particularly regarding the telepathic ability Dan gained shortly after the show, meant that it made a tremendous amount of sense to keep his cards close to his chest until everyone’s motives were exposed.
Slater and Godfrey, who had been keen enough for Dan to talk about the foiled plot, had likewise pivoted to prefer a lips-sealed approach until Poppy’s inner thoughts were no longer hidden.
“And Honduras is neutral,” he said, answering the other half of Kyle’s question.
Kyle then handed over to Poppy. She wasted no time in launching into a blistering attack on both the ELF and GCC, following a familiar argument that proactively pursuing further contact with aliens was an approach borne of madness. She said nothing negative about Dan and even praised him for being willing to sit down in an effort to hammer out some of the issues in a way the mainstream media and high-level politicians never did.
Throughout and immediately after her remarks, Dan focused fully on Poppy’s thoughts. They were clear enough, but reall
y seemed only to mirror her words. So far, she wasn’t lying. Dan recalled Emma’s clear advice to never let Poppy present herself as anything close to a friend or ally, however, so he curtly told her not to waste anyone’s time pretending she was on his side of any meaningful argument.
As the interview wore on with Kyle passing questions both ways across the table and Poppy stumbling over her words on occasion without ever thinking anything particularly illuminating, Dan glanced down at his notes having decided not to risk any further pain by listening to Emma at the same time as Poppy. If he really needed her, she was there. But until then, the danger of experiencing pain he couldn’t keep to himself ruled out listening to both women’s thoughts simultaneously.
Perhaps for the best, Dan didn’t have time to stop and think about how crazy this would all have sounded if he ever had to explain it to anyone else.
But undoubtedly for the worst, as the minutes ticked by he felt his mind blurring and Poppy’s thoughts becoming harder and harder to read. He tried to listen for Emma’s voice again but came up completely blank.
When Kyle passed the proverbial microphone back across the table, Dan shifted uncomfortably in his seat and asked Poppy to repeat her last point in clearer terms. In truth it had been clear enough and as uncontroversial as anything she’d said all day, but he had to buy a few minutes.
Dan could have handled being on his own; indeed, he had been doing so since reluctantly tuning out of Emma’s thoughts. But now, if he couldn’t even hear Poppy’s thoughts, the whole purpose of the interview was in ruins.
Allied to that, Dan’s mind was still clear enough for him to know that any further cloudiness could lead to a slip-up he really didn’t want to make.
The Final Call Page 25