Resolution

by Douglas E Roff

  “What’s on your mind, Brough? I for one am not very interested in dying at the hands of that psycho bitch,” said Senator Jensen. “I say we let this go for now and regroup when things cool down.”

  Mitchell was quiet. He wasn’t going to quit; he had his assignment and like a good military man, intended to carry it out. These punks didn’t have anywhere near the capability of the American military, and they were one drone strike away from meeting their maker.

  Brough was calm but icy. “That ‘bitch’ is a friend and she was being nice. She would normally kill on contact, so this was solid for me. I wouldn’t press your luck if I were you, but then I’m not you. Also, if Adam St. James hears you use that word about her, he will kill you on the spot. I’d mind your language; you don’t want to piss him off.”

  “Fuck him and fuck her. I’m outta here, and we’ll get our own people on this. I’ll have her dead by morning.”

  Brough turned to Senator Jensen. “And you my friend?”

  “I’m going home, have a three-finger scotch, then kiss my wife and kids. Tomorrow I’m going to resign from the oversight committee. I want nothing to do with Adam St. James or Alana McCarthy. It was Adam’s wife that held that House committee hostage, did some damage, then walked away. She was seven months pregnant at the time. I don’t know what’s going on and, until I do, I’m out. You?”

  “I’ll contact this Fortizi fellow, if I can, but I have no idea how. Electronics are out and even meetings in the open are out. McCarthy can repurpose satellites, all of them, to keep a close eye on us all. The General will be dead by morning, I’m afraid.”

  The Senator looked at Brough. “You’re a good guy, Brough. A true patriot, but this is something we need to avoid. Nobody is threatening us if we don’t threaten them. I say leave them be.”

  “Is that what you’re going to tell the Committee?”

  “It is.”

  Brough took out his 9 mm and shot Jensen three times. Then he called Paulo Fortizi. “Looks like we’ll have to go to plan B, Paulo. I’ll set the wheels in motion first thing in the morning from Jensen’s office. We’ll be at war within a matter of days.”

  Mitchell was found dead in the parking lot where his 4 x 4, now dust, had been parked. Cause of death was an unknown toxin; death was quick and painless.

  Chapter 40

  Derek and Cindy visited Adam still convalescing under the watchful eyes of Alana and Hecate, though Hecate was there unknown to Alana. Nobody came in or out without permission, nor were topics extraneous to the precious amount of conscious time he had available allowed. Well-wishers were welcome, and visiting hours established, but mostly Adam listened, and said little. Everything was stressful from breathing, to eating to speaking. The reconstruction of his brain as a complete and accurate receptor for his mind was so massive that all normal functions were disrupted.

  Liara said it would be that way for a month or so, but then one day the world would just feel different. It was not a gradual process of healing. It would hurt like hell until one day he would suddenly feel like he was high all the time. Adam said since he wasn’t dead, and the promise of always feeling well on the table, one month of pain was worthwhile.

  Liara mentioned the plan that Hecate and Liara had for sacrificing Gens, and human warriors en masse to protect him, and that the plan hadn’t gone over well with his wives, family and friends. As a result, Hecate had been banished for her ostensible indifference to lower life forms; nonetheless, Liara and Hecate felt such heavy sacrifice worthwhile to protect Adam. Liara said the sad fact was that the lives of the mortals protecting Adam were expendable and irrelevant. She said she would just as soon remove them all and send them to another more hostile planet to see how they enjoyed life as slaves but knew from Hecate that Adam would be upset with such a draconian display of absolute power.

  Liara continued, “Hecate stays. She is assigned to watch over you; she likes you. Personally, I don’t care why but she does. I will discuss this with your women, Misti and Alana included, but be aware I have no patience for this drivel. You are alive, they are alive, and Hecate and I have saved you, prepared you and will protect you. There is nothing more to discuss.

  “Made up emotional arguments questioning my authority, and decisions is not tolerable. You seem to have the same challenges with them, St. James, so I expect your understanding. What is at stake is more important than hurt feelings and alternate ways of doing things. We’re all fine; tell them to count their blessings and quit acting like children.

  “You should all be on your knees thanking me and begging our forgiveness. If I didn’t know better, I would say you are all ungrateful and undeserving of our ministrations. Not one more word of complaint or I may scorch this planet.

  ***

  Every day when complaining about intense pain, Hecate often told Adam to stop whimpering like a child, buck up and gut it out.

  Adam responded, “You’ve reading too much again. You’re not very sympathetic.”

  “Boo fucking hoo. Misti taught me that one. Says it always annoys you when you’re not babied like your Mom used to do.”

  “I will get even one day, you know.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

  Derek was sitting next to Adam’s bed and started right in. “We don’t need anything from the Gens Libraries right now, but we need access to Alexandria ASAP.”

  Adam was speaking through both Alana and Hecate via mind link. Derek was not.

  “Why?”

  Derek said, “Alexandria has all our records; the records of the Nobilus Maximus.”

  “Same for the Gens.”

  “What’s the big difference.”

  “Let me try to explain. There are two separate projects divided by one event. That wasn’t always the case. And before I start, I must ask you to listen to me and trust I am on your side wholeheartedly. My time with Hecate in mind union has changed everything I think and believe about you.

  “Back to business.” Derek said. “Let’s review the current facts of this ‘war’. The Serum project is dead, and the Black Shirts are no longer. Ditto the M-5 virus. The Black Shirts got their asses kicked in Idaho; then they disbanded and joined you. They believe in you and that you are the Chosen One, or Chosen of Chosen, or Manti or whatever the fuck.

  “Along with the end of the Black Shirts, Saldana Ri is dead and PMO is somewhere freezing his ass off in South Dakota. The chief scientist for the Black Shirts and the General in charge of the military are dead.

  “Let’s go to the Collective. Their leadership, except for Enzo and Paulo, is dead or disbursed or in hiding. The battle in Oregon is well-known now to have been a disaster, meaning that the Collective, as a whole, is fucked big time. Most of the transformed Gens are now on the run, hoping just to survive your perceived and expected retribution; certainly, if past is prologue, one would expect millions of Gens dead in the world as punishment. But I doubt you’re going there, are you?”

  “No. No point. I need allies and to make my tent bigger. I need to win hearts and minds.”

  Derek continued, “The assassination attempts, and yes, mine included, failed for whatever reason. In other words, the Collective leadership couldn’t get anything done that they promised the rank and file of the Collective.

  “The Collective now knows that their numbers are about one-third ‘loyal’ in degrees to Paulo and Enzo, one-third to the Eighty-One, and one-third to the wild Gens, who are not loyal to anyone. The first third under Paulo’s influence think they would lose a war with the Eighty-One and their human allies, and no question the same result against the wild Gens. They’re thinking there might be a huge genocide of the Paulo faction, absent restraint.

  Many transformed Gens are hoping you are that restraint. If you are, you will have millions of converts. You will be their Messiah.

  “Now, pre-event, there’s only one real mission because after the event, if you win, attacking the remaining six Great Libraries is a complete waste of time. Onc
e Paulo and Enzo are dead, we’ll walk into those Libraries. We’ll be welcomed.

  “That info is only important in a post Paulo/Enzo death scenario anyway. The real battle is the one with the Gens and another covert group for control over the Great Library of Alexandria. That has every member of the Nobilus Maximus in it, verified and updated every week. Pure bloods and mixed breeds, mixed breeds and percentage of Nobilus DNA, and what kind of DNA. And the locations, occupations, and political beliefs of each, along with age and gender, fertility and mental condition. Some of our folk freak out at our reality. Most don’t.

  “We need control of that Library for the genetic information it contains, not the historical materials the Anthropologists and Historians want. Sorry Dr. Edward and Hannah. Just not that important.”

  “Why?”

  “You need four genes to create the race the Creator intended; one from humans, one from Gens, one from the Nobilus Maximus and one that is inactive, but present in all three races. Kill the Nobilus, and you have a dead planet on your hands, courtesy of the Creator, because you cannot fix Her problem, and that’s the only reason She needs you.”

  “Why not just raid the place and get what we need?”

  “That’s what I thought too, but there is a glitch in the thinking, courtesy of Bitsie Tolan. If you were Paulo, and already knew the American, British and Israeli governments wanted you for your advanced tech, where would you go for help? I mean they tried to get you at the Manor, thanks to the traitors in your ranks selling you out. Where to next? Remember, the Collective has no money, no army and no weapons.

  “Where?”

  “Bitsie gamed it out. She’d said he’d go to the Americans and marshal all their resources, brand you a terrorist and threat to ‘National ‘Security’. A dangerous domestic terrorist. Maybe they won’t have any luck with this plan but it’s their last best hope of killing you and preventing a fight the brothers know they could easily lose.

  “The fight is the defining event, the defining point in the history of this planet. If you win, we all have a chance of living. Not a guarantee, but a chance. You lose, we’re all fucked. Don’t try reasoning with Paulo or Enzo; they think they will inherit your tech, defeat the humans, and make everyone their slaves. All he has to do is kill you and destroy the Great Library of Alexandria.”

  “That’s a lot of supposition.”

  “Agreed. I may be the only one who believes it, and I get that; I’m not yet to be trusted.”

  “And afterward?”

  “We get to work on your plan to fix the fuck up. We need prototype beings, which means a lot of fucking. I, for one, am volunteering to do my duty.”

  Adam looked around the room slowly, still in pain. “Who’s for? Show of hands.”

  Alana, Bitsie and Misti were the only three.

  “Against?”

  Rod, Cindy and Francoise

  “Abstaining?”

  Everyone else except Kendra.

  “Kendra, my sweet, what are your thoughts?”

  “I think that Derek is right, but I don’t trust him. If we said he’s free to go, he would. On the other hand, fighting a fight we can win but which is unnecessary seems equally irrational. The object has been to get you prepared, fight and kill the brothers and then implement your plan. Nothing has changed. So, once again, Derek is right, but he is still a scumbag.”

  “Then your vote is what?”

  “Not enough information yet. I’d like a fight, but not if it’s just for exercise and our people could get hurt or killed. I can’t go along with that.”

  “Advice?”

  “Clear the room except for Alana and Hecate, then bring in Hannah and Vera.”

  “Not seeing your logic, Kendra.”

  “You will,” she said. “You will.”

  “OK, then. Clear the room. Then Alana and Hecate stay. Bitsie, go get Hannah and Vera.”

  ***

  Alana said, “Do you know why Kendra wanted you all here to decide this matter?”

  “No,” said Hannah. “And I don’t want to be in the same room with him.” She pointed at Derek.

  Hecate spoke up, changing to half form, now looking more human rather than a rainbow profusion of light.

  “We’re here because without one another we will all surely fail. The little one knows more than we give her credit for; she observes more than she says. Probably a good thing for us all to practice.”

  Vera asked, “What do you mean?”

  Hecate said, “The war between Hannah and Derek must stop right away and they must each begin taking advanced lessons from Alana and Noki on the meaning of the Way and Balance. And they must allow me to enter them daily to confirm what they really feel. Your like or dislike of this method and process means nothing. And I need to enter Derek’s mind to discover his truth, commitment and knowledge.”

  Adam asked, “Why hasn’t this been done already.”

  Hecate said, “Ask your petty wives. They prevented it. Dangerous except to the petty minds who, who think themselves so sage. Alana, Noki, Hannah and Misti are to blame. Especially Misti.”

  “Easy for you to say, said Misti. “You’d have sacrificed us all without our knowledge or consent. As an Immortal, you are a coward.”

  Hecate paused, then said, “And I think Vera disagrees.”

  All eyes turned to Vera. “I do. This war isn’t a board game where we all get to start over again if we lose. When we lose, we all lose. These various events for which Hannah and Misti cannot forgive Derek and Hecate didn’t happen to them; the Derek episode in London happened to me. Let’s be honest, nothing happened to you Hannah. Quit pretending it did. If I want to be furious with Derek, that’s my privilege, not yours. If I think he’s responsible for trying to kill me, let me deal with it. I’m not your child, I’m your wife. If Derek is correct, and I think he is, then grow up and stop being such a petulant child. The rest of the matters concerning Hecate are no longer relevant. We’re here and we’re alive. Most importantly, Adam is safe. Let’s move on. We can hate each other later when this is all over.”

  Vera paused, then continued.

  “We need to set aside all past transgressions in favor of the present exigencies. When we are done and the world is saved, we can even scores if such is our desire. I suspect it won’t be desired by anyone. What we know now is not what we knew then. There is a common enemy and common struggle. That’s where we should put our efforts every day.”

  Chapter 41

  The next morning Brough left his office at the NSA for his briefing with the new commander-in-chief, a man widely regarded in both the military and the security services as an imbecile. But it gave him cover to meet with the President, the Joint Chiefs, and other political and Intelligence Service leaders to discuss the growing threat caused by the master terrorist-in-chief, Adam St. James.

  They met in the bunker under the White House where all computer systems were air gapped and spying on their conversation was thought to be virtually impossible.

  Had the bunker not needed electricity, they would have been correct. But, since it did need power, Alana was listening in. She used Nano-tech materials to follow the electrical system into the bunker and build a functional listening device into one of the lights. She knew the Americans would never hold up their end of the bargain, so she decided to follow them and record their connivance against her.

  She would use her recordings later, not against the conspirators publicly, but to justify to her husband the need to give the new Administration a painful lesson in the perils of duplicity.

  Brough had asked for the meeting, so he began, “I have received actionable intelligence from reliable sources that the terrorist Adam St. James was behind the murder of General Mitchell and the disappearance of Senator Jensen. We believe the Senator to be dead and his body somewhere in the DC area.”

  “Who’s your source, Brough?”

  “For the moment, I cannot reveal who they are, but both have dealt with this man in th
e past and he harbors an almost pathological hatred for them and all authority, military and civilian. We may be able to use that to our advantage later.”

  “Do we know where he is? His organization?”

  “No sir. Not since London and the incident at his estate, the Manor.”

  “They escaped?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Where to?”

  “We think to Switzerland first, then into the wind.”

  “Known associates? Anyone here in the US?”

  “No sir. He is close friends with the boy wonder up North in Ottawa, but they aren’t cooperating. The PM says that we started the row, now it’s our problem to fix it.”

  “How about sending a Special Ops Division north to Ottawa. Will that open his fucking yap?”

  “St. James says if we retaliate in any way against the Canadians, he’ll begin by killing your Cabinet one by one, then you wife, kids and finally you. Not a threat; he’s capable of doing it.”

  “Big bluff, if you ask me.”

  “I don’t agree sir. You, your family and the Cabinet are in grave danger if you threaten him, his family or friends. And the Canadians are his friends. He’ll do anything for them.”

  “What do we do then? Sit by? We’re not winning, and we need to win.”

  Silence. The President was apoplectic; fuming at his advisors for being cucked by that pipsqueak Canadian PM.

  “OK then, seal the border with Canada, cut off diplomatic relations, shut down the Canadian Embassy here in DC and all Consulates everywhere else. Round up every Canadian in the US, legal or not, and expel them. Terminate every treaty we have with them immediately, including all trade deals.”

  “That would take years and multiple acts of Congress. You’ll never get what you’re asking for.”

  “Bluffing only takes a tweet. Now get moving on what we can do. Round up the Ambassador from the Socialist Republic of Canadastan and march him to the border. Send out a briefing document that we have solid confirmed evidence, irrefutable proof, that the Canadian government at the highest levels is collaborating with a group of known terrorists. Let’s be vague on that, but hint that it’s Islamic extremists.”