“And if we don’t allow it?”
Carl visibly sighed at the General, hoping he would be able to convince him.
“Sir, if that happens then the patriarch, or should he not be available, then his children will make sure that the person responsible, and all of the men and women he is responsible for, will be considered dishonorable.
“I am not of the family, sir, so you have to understand that I am explaining this as ‘what will be,’ not that I personally have a say, OK?”
Carl waited for the General’s agreement that he understood Carl’s qualification. The General squinted at him while he chewed on his cigar, coming to some conclusion before nodding his head.
“All right, when a person of responsibility is considered dishonorable by a family member, and there is no higher member of the family to request a review, that person and every person who reports to them will be judged dishonorable.”
“So, what happens to those considered dishonorable?”
“Death, General. The family will consider it a bad relationship and not suffer their dishonor.”
While a little clinically detached from the conversation, Carl just had to tell himself, ‘Wait for it...’
General Reynolds made Carl wait about five seconds before he blew his proverbial stack.
“Are you seriously threatening a General and his entire base? Are you doing this on MY base, at ME, in my OFFICE?” His face was completely red, two microscopic black eyes of destruction aimed at Carl.
OK, Carl thought, that was pretty impressive. Maybe not to Michael’s level but certainly pretty damned intimidating.
The General’s phone buzzed and Patricia’s voice came out of the loudspeaker. “General, is there something wrong? The Sergeant is still out here if you need him, sir.”
Lance looked down at the phone and stabbed the button with his rock-solid finger, “No, but tell him to stick around.” Releasing the button, he looked back at Carl, who stared back composed and ready to let him cool down, if he would.
Lance worked to get his emotions under control, remembering that this wasn’t the person threatening his people. He was just the liaison. Lance’s real target was his boss.
In a quiet voice, he asked “And just when do I get to talk to the family member? When does he arrive?”
“Sir, he already has.”
Michael could tell from his connection with Carl that he had just been introduced to the General and they were about to start talking.
He had been through a lot of the base, and he’d made it down to Level Five by floating through the environmental system. He checked out the vault with the guard outside.
After confirming that everything was acceptable and his knife was still present, he turned to leave and go back towards the General’s office.
While the DNA from the previous three candidates might theoretically be in the hermetically sealed vault from seventy years ago, they wouldn’t be able to trace anything to the two who had successfully passed the interview and they knew about the third one.
He never fully became physical in the vault when he was in the interview so he didn’t leave any evidence.
He continued his exploration of the base. He could tell the difference in the personnel from the last time he was here.
They certainly felt different this time. They, as a country, weren’t presently under attack as they had been in the past. The country’s efforts weren’t as determined and their purpose wasn’t as sharp as that earlier generation’s had been. Whether they had wanted a war or not, they stood up, signed up and shipped out.
Here and there on the base he ran into individuals who were going through the motions of their lives. Others were bright, determined and seemed focused and accomplishing something. Michael wasn’t sure what.
He chose to walk around the base a little. Although he wouldn’t be noticed by others he was in fact posing as a corporal. It allowed him to get a better feel for the base that flittering around as myst wouldn’t provide him.
He chose a building that seemed to house soldiers and walked through the opened door behind two servicemen. He walked past the guard on duty and another group talking around the front desk.
The passageways were a little narrow, and he had to become myst a couple of times so that others wouldn’t bump into his body. Although most people would just be bewildered, it wasn’t worth the small chance that they would talk later and start wondering.
Besides, through Carl’s emotions he could sense the General getting excited. Somewhere up ahead, he could feel a particularly bright spirit but it was possibly time to be a little more involved with Carl, or at least more aware of what the General was talking about.
He wouldn’t interfere with Carl’s job, but he would protect him should the General feel threatened and start pushing back too hard.
Becoming myst, Michael went as quickly as he could to the General’s office. That location hadn’t changed since he was here last time.
Bethany Anne slowly finished the calming exercises she practiced often.
Always competitive in everything, Bethany Anne realized that Death would be one adversary who wasn’t going to give her a fair break.
She didn’t mention it to Martin, but she had seen three other specialists about her condition. None of them could figure out exactly what she had, but it was obvious from her white and red blood cell counts that whatever it was it was eating her up alive.
She had tried a blood transfusion once, and while it helped, it was only effective for a couple of weeks. The next blood test came back normal, which meant totally messed up.
The doctors confirmed it wasn’t in her bones, or in any of the expected locations where blood cells and blood were either produced or cleaned.
It was as if there was a specific defect handed down the generations and her mom had apparently passed it on to her.
Well, this genetic disease would die with her.
She wouldn’t shed any more tears on what could have been. She had been through that stage already and while she had needed the emotional relief, she couldn’t help others if she was an emotional wreck.
That, she had realized, was her purpose. She had a driving desire to help those that couldn’t help themselves. She had no issue ignoring those who wouldn’t help themselves and it was a poor day for anyone who tried to take advantage of the system, at least around her. As passionate as she was when someone needed help, she was just as passionate about confronting those who took advantage of the generosity of others.
With her present duty, she was looking into older cases where the people were all dead. It suited her, these people certainly couldn’t help themselves and if she suddenly fell down dead, there wasn’t a problem with bringing someone up to speed on the case before it went cold.
In her early twenties Bethany Anne had figured out her problem. She tried to be the best at anything that would get her father’s attention. It took her over a year and four different self-help, healing, and psych books to break the emotional and psychological struggle it was causing in her life. She still enjoyed it when her father was proud of her, but it wasn’t something that the sun would rise and set on as those feelings had once been.
Since she wasn’t in the same branch of the military, and Reynolds wasn’t that uncommon a name, she wasn’t often identified as being the General’s daughter. She didn’t shy away from it, she was proud of her father. She had just been brought up to be self-reliant. Wanting to stand on her own two feet was part of the whole package, really.
She looked down at her watch, 18:15. She grabbed her jacket, badge and purse. Time to meet with the General and find out why he had sent for her.
“Where?” General Reynolds looked down at the calmly composed man in the chair. While Lance was six-ways to Sunday pissed, the coldly logical part of his mind recognized that Carl wasn’t responding to his physical and verbal tirade.
Lance gave it to the man, he stood his ground.
“That, G
eneral, I don’t know. However, I can tell you he’s been on the base for at least thirty minutes and since he doesn’t drive, I imagine he came aboard the jet with me.”
“What, you don’t know? That seems unlikely.”
“What seems more unlikely? That one person could hide aboard a jet if I wasn’t paying attention, maybe in some room—it is a personal jet—or that I’m here telling you that same person would decide the fate of every person in your command?”
“Both. This isn’t an either or question.”
“Well, he’s a spook’s spook. There’s no one I’ve encountered in either the CIA or FBI who feels comfortable around him, and the NSA stopped trying to tail him about thirty years ago, which was before I started working with him. The last time a senior level bureaucrat became too involved in trying to learn about the families, the bureaucrat was found very dead. Somehow he pulled his own arm off and then used it to accidentally shoot himself six times. This was inside a very secure location, and trust me, none of the videotapes were of any use.”
“What? Did they go static-y or just not work?”
“No, they worked fine. There was just nothing on them. No one entered or left the building or his office from when he was last seen coming back from dinner, to when he was found later that night. An aide from a few doors down saw light coming from his office and went to ask him a question. After the investigation, it was learned that the bureaucrat had been trying to find out more about the family and had hired a few private investigators with some slush fund money.
“There were three private investigators. The detectives talked to two who couldn’t remember ever working on the project, but invoices were found where they billed out hours to the politician. The third was located in a psych ward. Apparently he had a total mental meltdown and couldn’t even feed himself, much less talk coherently anymore.”
“So you’re saying that I have this man running loose on my base right now and not one of my security people are going to catch him?”
“Sir, I imagine he’s going to come into this room and when he shows up, that door will never open.”
“Bullshit.”
“No bullshit.”
The General stabbed the button on his phone again, “Patricia, have Kevin come in here.” He let up on the button.
With a short knock, the Sergeant came in. “Sir?”
“Kevin, lock the door and go stand by the window, facing out. I want you to see if you see anything or anyone who looks like they might be trying to get in this office.”
“Yes, sir.” The Sergeant turned around, locked the door and walked across the office to stand at parade rest, looking outside to see if anyone might be trying to enter the office.
Carl just looked back at the General, nonplussed, while the General squinted at him.
“It isn’t going to matter, is it?”
Carl just shook his head silently.
The General stared vacantly, looking over Carl’s head for a few seconds before suddenly asking.
“How soon?”
Lance watched as Carl’s eyes glazed over for a fleeting second. If he had blinked he would have missed it.
Carl stood up and moved beside the chair as if he was waiting for another to take his place.
“General, he’s here.”
Michael made it to the General’s office and was going to myst under the door when the intercom squawked and heard the General request for the Sergeant to come inside. He went in, solidified in a corner, staying outside of their realm of awareness, and watched as the Sergeant locked the door and went to stand at the window.
Michael watched the General, looking at his spirit, his demeanor and how he addressed his subordinate. He could tell from his heartbeat and breathing that he was stressed, but was handling it very well.
He obviously hadn’t been a paper pusher his whole career.
Good.
Michael could see that the General was still pretty upset, but trying to gather enough information to make a decision. He wasn’t just going to follow orders blindly.
While that could make this difficult, Michael respected his decisions. He wouldn’t agree to ordering someone to do something he wasn’t willing to do himself. Since the General couldn’t know what he was going to order someone to do, how could he feel comfortable with it?
However, Michael didn’t have too much time and he needed to get the measure of this man and make a decision.
Work with him, or start the cleaning at the top?
Michael moved in front of the General’s desk and caught Lance’s eyes with his own. It only took a couple of heartbeats to read him.
This man was honorable. Michael would work with him.
“How soon?” the General said.
Michael spoke to Carl directly, telling him to stand up and move to the side. When he was out of the way, Michael sat down and when Carl told the General that ‘he’s here,’ he spoke into the Sergeant’s mind to lock him out, and ordered him to continue just staring out of the window. Then he materialized in front of the General.
The General’s mouth hung open long enough for the cigar to fall into his lap. Good thing it wasn’t lit. The General couldn’t get his mouth to close for some moments. He suddenly looked down and grabbed the cigar.
OK, Lance thought, the suddenly appearing trick was a little disconcerting. If the man had wanted to kill him, Lance realized he would be dead. He wasn’t sure about this person or his family having the ability to kill three thousand, but he was positive the headcount would be pretty high. Too high to feel comfortable with.
Lance used the cigar he had picked back up off of his lap to stab in Michael’s direction. “How the hell did you just get in here?” Lance might have been astonished, but this was his office, dammit.
If Lance thought that Carl was composed, this guy sent Lance’s ‘sixth sense’ into serious overdrive. He didn’t look threatening in his nice suit and silver cufflinks, but he just accomplished a spooky trick, and his eyes spoke of age, wisdom and a complete lack of humor.
And maybe a hint of compassion?
Lance spoke up, “Kevin, turn around already, he’s here.” When Kevin didn’t turn around, Lance looked over and repeated himself, louder this time.
The older man spoke up, “He won’t hear you, Lance. When we’re finished, he won’t remember this meeting between us even took place.”
For a couple of seconds, Lance looked at Kevin, then back at the older man, then back and forth again. He dropped the cigar down on his desk.
Carl spoke up, “General, we have to leave shortly. However, we will be back tomorrow at 18:00 sharp. I will join you downstairs at the vault. My boss won’t be showing up after this meeting, and I suggest you never mention this meeting unless you’re talking to Frank, the gentleman on the phone this afternoon.”
That seemed like a distant memory at this point.
Lance got his thoughts back in line and looked at the man in the chair. “Why do you need my men?”
The older man stood up easily, quickly, and fixed a cufflink, pausing as if in consideration at what the General had asked, and what he really wanted to understand.
He looked into the General’s eyes. “There are battles which you understand. The enemy who stands on a ship, they sit in tanks, they use planes or hit and run tactics. They use terrorist attacks and dishonorably target women and children. These fights you understand, this kind of enemy you can fight.
“How do you fight those that you cannot see? Those that suborn the good and command them to do evil? When those who are the protectors need to be protected, we are the ones who serve.
“We don’t give birth to children, we are not blessed that way. We have to be birthed through unimaginable pain and suffering. One must stand at life’s precipice and decide if one would rather sleep forever, or become a protector and watch over others as they live their lives.”
“The enemy, your enemy, that you cannot see and cannot defend against has killed on
e of my children. He sleeps now. I do not have the time to seek and find a qualified candidate from the world and teach them everything they need, so I call my Debt of Honor owed by your military, your country’s protectors. From your ranks, I seek to bring another into the family.
“Will they join? I do not know, that is for them to decide. It is not an easy decision. Either way, Lance, they would not be with you long. Should they come into the family, they will be the ones protecting the innocent from those you cannot fight.
“What does a monster look like, to those who are good?
Like you and me, with evil intent?
What about the monsters themselves?
What do they fear in the dark of the night?
“The answer to that, General Reynolds, is my family.”
With that, Carl stepped back and unlocked the door and Kevin started to turn around. Lance caught a flicker of motion out of the corner of his eye, looking back, the only person Lance saw leaving the room was Carl.
The other man was nowhere to be seen.
Lance saw Bethany Anne coming into Patricia’s office as Carl held the door open for her. Carl stepped out and closed the door behind him.
He motioned for Bethany Anne to wait a minute and quizzed Kevin on what he just witnessed.
Kevin remembered standing guard over the window while the other two talked about something, he couldn’t remember the words exactly. Then he had turned around when he heard the door unlock.
Lance released him to any other duties he might have and told him to have a good night.
Now, he had to figure out why his daughter was here. Her agency rarely if ever came to the base in the course of their investigations. And right now was a particularly bad time to have any additional headaches.
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Kurtherian Gambit Boxed Set One: Books 1-7, Death Becomes Her, Queen Bitch, Love Lost, Bite This, Never Forsaken, Under My Heel, Kneel or Die (Kurtherian Gambit Boxed Sets) Page 5