If they didn’t have children, those children wouldn’t commit patricide.
His mind was always agile, even now he didn’t feel like he had lost any of his keen intellect.
Unlike others, Frank knew that keeping physically active each week helped the mind to stay sharp so much more than those silly games on everyone’s smartphones and online. He should know, he had access to the latest research whether it was published or not.
When he had spoken to Michael two decades before, he never remembered finishing the conversation. He had woken up on the couch that doubled as a bed when he needed one. He received the shock of his life when he looked in the mirror in the office suite’s bathroom that morning to shave.
He looked twenty-five years younger. Instead of being in his mid-sixties, he looked like he had just turned forty.
He knew Michael had done something to him, but didn’t know how it worked. For whatever reason, Michael had seen fit to extend his usefulness.
He still felt and was fitter than he should be in his late nineties, but he knew that there wouldn’t be an extension this time. He had not lost any of his desire to keep in the action, but it was getting to be another generation’s game. With changes in the world came new attitudes and Frank’s attitudes, he noticed, weren’t that adjustable and easygoing anymore. He needed to be able to work with those he contacted and to accomplish that required empathy. Frank realized his empathetic feelings had gotten lesser over the years. Too many times, he wanted to just use a two-ton hammer to get through the bureaucracy he found himself having to deal with as the military and local first responders kept asking questions. In his generation, if someone obviously way above you spoke, you listened and did.
Now he had to deal with people trying to figure out what was going on too often. The Internet was both a great help and a huge problem for his group. They were able to find out about new outbreaks and problems quickly, and there were those who would get together in chat rooms and create wiki sites, helping bring their own research together to find out what was going on.
Most times, it wasn’t anything big to worry about. Other times he would see if those who were doing the work had anything in their backgrounds to warrant a mention to the local police or tax office that might give them reasons to focus on other things in their life.
Once, he found one particular troublemaker was a bit of a Casanova with three girlfriends who knew nothing about each other. Frank was kind enough to send two of them a request to meet at the romantic restaurant where the guy was on a date with the third. Frank hadn’t realized exactly how nasty it might become; the lady who was at the table took her dinner knife to the guy.
For those who Frank found to just be curious people with no real leverage for Frank to use, he would pass the information on to the liaison and within a few weeks that person would find something else that fascinated them and they would drop off the supernatural interests group.
He had been quietly researching for the past two years to narrow down his list of potential recruits and had a handful he considered promising. Bethany Anne Reynolds had been his top choice until he had learned two months before that she was going to pass away.
He had researched her exhaustively for his position for over a year. There had never been a female in his job, and he wanted to make sure the first one to work with the group made the right impression with Michael. He hadn’t expected Bethany Anne to end up on the short list to be transformed.
Over the months of researching and watching her, he had grown to like this determined young woman. He had already mentally tagged her as his replacement and felt a responsibility, as if she was his star pick to become the next quarterback for the football team.
She needed good backup. Carl was becoming a good liaison for Michael’s team, but with Michael awake, and probably not going to sleep soon, she was going to be learning from the patriarch himself.
Everyone was going to need to step up their game, and Frank was worried he had little game available to offer.
He had four other possibilities from his research. He needed an update on their activities, and to find out if any new agents might be available.
Military Base, Colorado Mountains
Bethany Anne watched her father’s face go through different emotions as she waited for the orders to be explained to her. She wasn’t sure if he would try to order her to seek more treatment, but if he did she would have to regretfully push back on that.
She felt pretty confident that her assignment didn’t have anything to do with her trying to get healed, so she could strike that down. However, in some form or fashion her orders gave him insight into her condition that he didn’t have before she walked in. So, he must have been expecting someone suffering from a fatal disease to show up.
The clues she noticed since arriving suggested something was happening that wasn’t a straight up military project. She considered that a working hypothesis.
So, what special request could someone have which would require someone of her talents and skills and particular morbidity?
She pondered this while her father was concentrating. As Martin had expressed to her before she left, “That is the question.”
She just didn’t have enough information to form a solid answer.
“Bethany Anne,” His voice was a little gruff from emotion, but apparently he had it under control. “I’m not positive about everything I’m about to tell you. I can explain that to the best of my understanding, this is top secret and you and I are held to the strictest confidence.”
He waited until she dipped her head in acknowledgment.
He told her the story. Starting with a klaxon sounding down on Level Five and ending when she walked into his office.
It was a short time for Michael to form an opinion of this lady. If Bethany Anne and the General decided to meet him tomorrow night then he had made his decision. The door to the vault would open and there would be no Bethany Anne in the vault.
Michael really never left the vault until the door opened. He would grab the chosen and become myst, leaving when the door was barely cracked open.
Since he had been watching some of the new shows it had become obvious that there were too many scientific devices to use this method any longer. They could just wait until the door was opened and check all kinds of signs and he was sure one of them would spike.
Maybe it would be one of the ghost chasers.
When he wasn’t just so tired with life, he might decide to go and play with those ghost chasers if he figured out where they were going to be.
He could always have Carl check into their location for him. While he wanted to keep the UnknownWorld a secret, which was best for everyone, the more he could cause consternation with those that lived on the fringe, the better.
No matter what your body felt like, the years of living always imprint your mind. Those that fear death eventually feel like a quiet death in bed shouldn’t be feared too much. This acceptance often sneaks up on you.
Living as many centuries as he had, even sleeping through so many decades, still caused a weariness on the soul.
Maybe, just maybe what the Family needed was a new parent. A mother, not just a father.
If she was as strong of mind as he suspected, then maybe he could choose to hand off the responsibility for the world and sleep one more time. A very, very long time.
9
Military Base, Colorado Mountains
Michael ghosted into the plane. With the gear down, there were plenty of options if you knew your way around a few judicious pinholes.
He formed up and looked over at Carl who had apparently finished a drink and was relaxing and running some sort of research on his laptop. He had a few windows open and Michael could see that there were some items timing themselves as ‘% Complete Done.’
He sat down across from Carl; the seats on the plane faced each other. He changed his body from myst back into a visibly corporal form.
It took a f
ew blinks before Carl realized that Michael was on the plane and sitting across from him. If he wasn’t so thoroughly wrung out from the stress of the last few days, he was sure he would have jumped.
As it was, his head just jerked up when he realized he wasn’t alone.
“Carl, can you see what it would take to fly to the Baltics?”
Carl stared at him, the question so out of left field that Carl had nothing to process it with. No previous knowledge of why Michael would want to go to Europe. As far as Carl knew, Michael hadn’t been out of America for… um, forever as far as he knew.
Well, he knew he came over from Europe before, but that was in the 1700s or thereabouts. Pretty far back.
“Um, sure, any particular country?” Carl wasn’t sure what permits were required and how to get a plane from the U.S. overseas. But he was sure the pilot would let him know what he needed to do and Frank could smooth over any issues. He hoped.
“No, I haven’t decided exactly where quite yet. I would prefer we choose Romania if we can. Probably Brasov if they have an airport. Let me know what you find out about our options.”
“Are we going to see someone in particular? Do we need to announce ourselves?” Carl was searching just a little. He knew that the family could be particular about uninvited guests and there were always the other types of supernaturals one might have to deal with. Although here in America it was never a problem for Carl. Michael took care of the pecking order some one hundred and fifty years ago and he hadn’t heard a sneeze from the allied groups in his fifteen years.
Frank apparently had all major supernatural leaders on speed dial and if Carl needed support, it magically appeared and they were ‘happy to do it.’ Carl always assumed it was a healthy respect and the philosophy of live and let live. As in, Michael let them live and would continue to leave them alone unless they broke the accords or dishonored him in some way.
Usually, if Carl received information on a problem event or something internal to another group, the leadership had already taken care of the situation before Michael ever woke.
It was nice to hear about the problem and the solution at the same time.
Often, Carl would receive requests for information from the other research people in the UnknownWorld if they were stymied. None of them wanted to work closely with Frank as he was too close to the government for their liking. They would pick up the phone to talk with him, but only if it was either that, or possibly a conversation with Michael.
They really, really didn’t want that discussion again. One hundred and fifty years isn’t so long a time as to forget when many of the existing leaders moved up the ranks due to the previous, massive, number of positions becoming simultaneously available.
It seemed a handful of groups, mostly Weres and other quasi-humans came together and decided that since they had taken on a few vampires with moderate casualties, they could gang up on Michael and either put him in his place, or soak up enough damage and get rid of him altogether.
It was the first, and truly the bloodiest, Valentine’s Day ever. Well, it was February 14th anyway. All of the groups that participated considered their present leadership the ‘Second Council’ now. Since most of the first group suddenly became very dead by getting cut up into tiny chunks.
A few that could regenerate their wounds apparently pissed Michael off enough that he would cut a large part off their body. Then he would stake them to the ground so they couldn’t escape until their body parts grew back, and then cut those parts off again.
He required the new pack leaders watch to make sure they got the message that to attack him had perilous consequences.
It tends to make an impression. One which lasts, apparently, one hundred and fifty years.
Michael pursed his lips and decided to answer the question behind the request. “No, there are no families that I wish to interact with. This isn’t something they need to be aware of, and any of the dishonored we meet will be dealt with. None of them need to be aware of our presence as it will cause too many questions.”
Michael looked out the glass of the small private jet. He knew that at this instant the plane was being surreptitiously snooped on as much as possible by the military. While Carl took care of his responsibilities very well, Michael’s plane was prepared to withstand all sorts of attacks, both overt and clandestine.
Regardless, you couldn’t be too cautious, so Michael just projected his thoughts into Carl’s brain. It was impossible to snoop there.
“You need to be careful and protect our information as much as possible. This won’t be a normal trip. We will be going into the Baltics for a week at least, maybe two. We need two additional scouts to help us into the mountains. I will need a satellite phone to help you to continue with the second stage of the operation.”
“I won’t be staying there?”
“No, I need you to be busy leading anyone following us on a merry chase until you hear from me. No one can know of the plan. If anyone suspects anything, that area will be crawling with dishonored and all types of supernaturals.”
Carl looked perplexed for a minute. “Why?”
Michael sat back and looked pensive as he stared out the plane’s window.
“Because a mother is to be born. In pain she will be conceived, in fire she will be tried, in agony she will be tested and for love she will kill. Unfortunately, there is a great need to show love right now.”
Carl looked at Michael for a moment, then he noticed that one of his windows was blinking with a red Query Complete at the top.
It sounded like Michael had selected his latest child… No, that couldn’t be right. He called her a mother.
He didn’t marry, did he?
“Fuck me sideways.” Bethany Anne had a bit of a potty mouth, she knew it, her father knew it and at times like this there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. Besides, her dad had taught her some of her best curse phrases.
Bethany Anne believed that cussing was an excellent way to release stress and should be morally approved.
She sat for a while, a little introspective after taking in everything she was just told.
OK, so mysterious people, ops so black she never heard about them and government officials that could reach into her group and just make up orders and send her across the nation at the drop of a hat.
Freaky and weird? Check.
Supernatural situation and unexplained invisible old geezers. Double check.
Well, that wasn’t really fair. Dad didn’t say the guy was a geezer, just older and in a suit. Kinda spoke in a clipped fashion. English wasn’t his first language, she was sure.
Let’s not forget the ‘dying but not dying’ part either. She might be able to give old hoary long-scythe a royal middle finger but at what cost? That was the question she had right now.
All of it tied up in some sort of honor system that spoke of beliefs that went back way before she was born.
She let out a long sigh. “Dad, if I’m possibly going to die but not die tomorrow, how about we play hooky just one time and go and have dinner? On me? We can charge up my American Express and they can eat the bill.”
He looked blankly at her, and then cracked a shit-eating grin and stood up from his seat and reached for his hat.
“Hell yeah, Bethany Anne. Tell you what, there’s this steakhouse outside of the base that has a wine cellar with some very old favorites that I’ve been tempted to try, but didn’t want the bill. That sound about right?”
Bethany Anne looked up at her father, who she might not see again after tomorrow. “You know what? I’ve got the company’s Amex and a personal Black Visa that just came in the mail two weeks ago. I’d been saving it for a special occasion. Let’s crack every bottle they have.”
Patricia’s eyes grew and her mouth opened as they walked by, her jaw almost hitting the ground.
Both Reynolds’ were smiling and looked like they were about to get into some mischief.
Dr. John Evenich was o
utside the vault, and the General’s daughter appeared to be getting ready to go inside. About five other soldiers stood outside and surrounded the rather small area. She was a bit of a beauty with that black hair. A bit of a hard-ass too. The looks might have come from her mother but the attitude was all her father.
She was talking with her dad matter-of-factly. If he didn’t know any better, he would swear the General’s nose was a little red. Drinking? No, probably crying when no one could see, the rumor was that he had just found out his daughter had a blood disease that had a high mortality rate.
They both seemed in good spirits. That was just… odd.
“General, Dad, I have no idea where I’m going or what I’m doing, but I want you to know that I couldn’t have had this chance without you preparing me the way you did. If I was a schoolteacher, this opportunity wouldn’t be available right now.” She looked him straight in the eyes to make sure he understood her message.
Lance considered his response, realizing she was right. She didn’t want him going through the heartache when she ‘died’ that he did with her mother. Although she was right, without him training her the way he had she wouldn’t be prepared for this commission, such as it was. He was still going to miss her.
“I hear you, Bethany Anne. Know that I won’t go all Houdini’s wife on you but drop a line if you can?”
She smiled. After Harry Houdini died his wife performed a lot of séances to try and talk to him in the afterlife.
With a kiss for his cheek, she stepped into the vault, slapping the red button beside the door as she stepped in.
Klaxon going off, the vault door started to close.
“Fuck me, no lights…” The lights went off when the door shut. That was unexpected. You couldn’t get any darker than that.
A deep voice, not unpleasant, came out of the inky blackness. “That’s because I like to know the mettle of a man, or woman, that I’m going to communicate with, and the easiest way to get past their defenses is in the dark.”
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 8