“Same thing in St. Louis!” someone shouted.
“Mexico City.”
“Philadelphia.”
“Toronto.”
“Milwaukee.”
The list of cities continued until more than twenty different locations had been called out. Martin joined Alina in the middle of the room. “This is a coordinated effort across the continent. Are there reports of anything like this happening outside of North America?”
Everyone looked around to each other, but no one responded.
“That proves it. We expected as much, though I’ll admit, not something as ferocious as these early reports suggest. They took advantage of all the Road Runners huddled together at those protests and killed as many as they could.”
Some of the team members began crying, eyes glued to their phones as they read the stories breaking from all around North America, Martin’s words falling on distraught ears.
“This is meant to distract us,” Alina said. “Don’t let it happen. We can see the finish line and we must keep our eyes on it. We have one more hour until delivering our remarks to Commander Briar—I suggest you work on that. There will be plenty of time afterwards to shift our focus to these attacks, but for now we must remain on schedule. So let’s take a moment, gather our thoughts, and get back to finishing what we started over two weeks ago.”
Alina turned and grabbed Martin by the arm, pulling him back to their two seats along the wall. “I know what you’re thinking, but we cannot reach out to the Council.”
“Of course we can,” Martin snapped. “We have to.”
“And tell them what? Half of those dead bodies are our own soldiers. We’re at the mercy of the Revolution and can only hope the local police officers have a chance. Hopefully some of the National Guard is still around—they’ll have the best odds.”
Martin shook his head. “I can’t believe this is really happening. Of all the days.”
Alina shrugged. “I get it, this is awful, but we have to look at the big picture. This is a compliment to what we’ve been able to achieve. I guarantee you this all started once Chris realized something was wrong with Sonya. We don’t know what he found out before fleeing, but it’s clear something sparked a panic. Their entire organization sees the writing on the wall, and this is their desperate attempt to stop it from happening.”
“Am I going to meet an army when I get to his cabin?”
“Doesn’t matter—they’ll be frozen.”
“What if he found another Warm Soul, and has them waiting for me? I’d have no chance.”
“Commander, with all due respect, you’re letting your thoughts get the best of you. We’ve done our research and have kept tabs on the known Warm Souls around the entire world. None of them have moved, or even been contacted by Chris, from what we can tell. You’ll have the one-on-one situation that we’ve been planning for all along.”
Martin took a deep breath, the rest of the jet falling into background noise as he tried to process the unfolding chaos. “Thank you, Lieutenant. Please don’t think it’s a matter of trust—I know how hard everyone has been working to make this mission as seamless as possible. I had a long night and have thought over every single detail of how things will play out later. Naturally, I can only imagine the worst-case scenario for everything: the car crashes on the way, we get stopped at the border by Revolters, Steffan goes missing right before we need to freeze time. All of that ran through my head, and still is.”
Alina nodded. “I completely understand. I used to do the same thing, Commander. But I’ve come to understand that the more preparation that goes into a mission, the odds of something going wrong fall drastically. And if I may, I’ve never seen a mission as thoroughly planned out as this. For God’s sake, we have alternate routes for your drive, and there are no alternate routes. Think about that. Most missions have five to seven people working on them, and this one has twenty-four. The prep work was so spread across the board and cross-checked that not a single detail has gone unnoticed. You will be delivered safely to that cabin with only one worry to concern yourself with. Do you understand?”
Martin pursed his lips, nodding, rummaging his thoughts for a counterargument, or at least an excuse. But he had nothing, silenced by his number two to trust the process. After his big speech giving all the credit to this once-in-a-lifetime team, Martin had been the last person to listen to his own words. Now that he did, he felt somewhat better, although nothing could erase the worry of death that lingered above him like a black cloud. Everyone else on the jet was in a light mood, at least before the news had broken of the Revolution’s attacks. They didn’t have to worry about waking up tomorrow; Martin did.
“Thank you, Lieutenant. Let’s get to work.”
Chapter 21
Despite the morning’s commotion, plans continued on time for the Road Runners stuck on the jet. Half past noon arrived and Alina called attention to the team, standing in front of the wall that separated the cabin from the cockpit.
“I hope everyone has taken a moment to gather themselves. I know we are all worried about our loved ones back wherever you might call home. We’re helpless on this jet, and I know the first thing I’ll be doing is flying to Central America to make sure my friends and family are okay. I suggest you avoid the news for the remainder of the afternoon. If you don’t, you’re only going to drive yourself mad. That is all I’m going to say regarding this matter, and I’ll be happy to revisit it once we hear the good news from Commander Briar later tonight.
“As you know, we set this time aside for a final briefing on what Commander Briar is to expect. I know this presented a unique challenge for us as a team, as every mission we’ve ever worked on has dealt with multiple Road Runners and how to best position our team for success. This mission, once the commander is dropped off in Angle Inlet, will be just him. While it might sound easier to plan, on the surface, I know it was much harder than we are used to. So thank you for your dedication, especially for having to do most of this work on the fly. Give yourselves a round of applause.” A few scattered hands clapped, but the energy had shifted to a much darker mood since Martin’s speech last night. “Arielle, will you please join me up here?”
Heads turned as they followed Arielle making her way from the middle of the jet to the front, greeting Alina with a warm smile.
“I’ve reviewed all of the research and will present it for us all to see,” Alina continued. “Should something sound incorrect, please notify us immediately—do not be afraid to interrupt.”
She nodded toward the back of the room where a man flicked on a projector, its image blasting across the front wall and prompting Alina and Arielle to step aside. Martin remained near his seat, but had a clear view of the presentation.
A map of Canada filled the screen, a heavy purple line running from Winnipeg to Angle Inlet, three thinner lines branching off in different directions, but still arriving to the same destination.
“Arielle will drive Commander Briar. All research has been completed on this route, and we’ve found it to be rather straightforward. There is one construction zone that spans two-miles, but it’s in the middle of nowhere, so we don’t anticipate much of a slowdown from it. We confirmed Winnipeg has been attacked by the Revolution, and the Canadian army has been deployed to control the situation. It doesn’t appear this will affect the car’s departure, but the situation is changing by the minute, so something to be aware of. Even if that changes, we highly doubt it will affect our ability to leave Winnipeg. A military-grade SUV has been ordered and will arrive here to the jet at five o’clock tonight. Arielle and Commander Briar will be leaving at 5:30 sharp. We project the drive will take two hours and eighteen minutes. Another car will arrive in fifteen minutes from now, in which we have four of our members driving the route and coming right back to report the most up-to-date information. Felix, Megan, Selena, Lucas—are you all ready?”
The four were gathered in the back and gave a thumbs up.
“Perfect. They will report to us in real time from the road anything they see out of the ordinary. If everything comes back as normal, Arielle and the commander will leave on time with no worries. She will drive him into downtown Angle Inlet where Commander Briar will walk through the woods—it is the only way to reach Chris’s cabin.”
The screen changed, zooming into Angle Inlet and showing a dotted path from Main Street to the middle of the woods.
“Commander Briar will have a printout of this exact map. It’s a rather simple path, hard to get lost, as we’ve counted it out by the step for where to turn. Commander Briar, have you reviewed this information yet?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Martin replied, holding up the laminated copy of the map. “Planned to the very last branch on every tree,” he said with a chuckle.
“The terrain is tricky and we’ve obtained a special pair of hiking boots made for both a rough walk and the cold weather. The forecast calls for the temperature to be sixteen degrees Fahrenheit by the time Commander Briar starts his journey into the woods. Thank you to the team who made the venture out last night to grab supplies. We also grabbed a new winter coat, gloves, handwarmers, and beanies for Commander Briar to choose from. He will not be left in the cold should he happen to get lost in the woods.”
The screen changed to show an hourly breakdown of the evening, starting at 5:30 when Martin was expected to leave.
“Commander Briar will call Steffan Privvy when he steps out of the car in Angle Inlet—we project that time will be 7:48, give or take five minutes. We have confirmed Steffan is ready and will be in isolation free of distraction at that time. It will be 1:48 in the morning in England. Time will be frozen for exactly ninety minutes after the phone call. This allows more than an hour for Commander Briar at the cabin—the walk is expected to take twenty minutes. All of the plans we have made lead us up to this point. We don’t know what will happen while time is frozen, nor will we realize that time is frozen. While the world stops for us, Commander Briar will hunt down Chris Speidel and carry out an execution. He will be equipped with a light duffel bag containing a first-aid kit, two handguns, one hunting knife, one pack of matches, and one box of ammunition.
“Arielle will remain downtown and park at a discreet location. When time is unfrozen, she will follow the same path to the cabin to ensure that Commander Briar is okay. She has been instructed to keep a low profile, ducking behind trees, in case Chris manages to survive. Commander Briar has also been instructed to kill anyone else he encounters while time is frozen, leaving no threat to Arielle outside of Chris.
“We have a second team departing the jet at six o’clock. They will serve as a cleanup crew for the conclusion of this mission. Darius and Marie have volunteered to drive a van to Angle Inlet with hopes of bringing Chris’s body back. Between them, Commander Briar, and Arielle, we will have a team of four able to carry the dead body through the woods. One key point we want to emphasize is that Chris should not be left alone, even as a corpse. Under no circumstance should everyone abandon the body—one person must always stay beside it.
“After that point, the body will be loaded and returned here.”
“Why wouldn’t we just fly to Angle Inlet to meet everyone?” a voice asked from the back of the room.
“Good question, but it plays into not causing a scene, especially when we’ll have a dead body to load onto the jet.”
The fact there would likely be a corpse sent a chill down Martin’s back. Alina hadn’t clarified whose dead body, just acknowledged that there would be one.
“Now, we want to hold off on making any announcements right away. There are plans surrounding what will happen to the body once we have it, and those are details I’d rather not get into now. With the major cities currently burning, we want to make sure those matters are under something that resembles control before announcing what has happened. I still want everyone to stay out of contact with anyone outside of this team until I instruct otherwise. We don’t know how the Road Runners or Revolution will react to the news, and want to make sure that we’ll be within the safety of our jet. Commander Briar will deliver a speech, and that will be the end of this mission. Are there any questions?”
Alina spoke in such a nonchalant manner that one might wonder if the mission was a simple grocery run, not their lifelong, wildest dream. Martin, who normally had a list of questions before jumping into a situation, found himself with nothing to ask. All bases had been covered and he knew exactly where he needed to be, and where the rest of his team would be.
No one asked additional questions, the weight off their shoulders, the reality of a finish line both daunting and exciting. Alina stood at the front with Arielle for an entire minute in awkward silence, making sure no one had anything to add.
“Alright then, thank you again for your work on this mission. Our first car should be here any second for our team to drive the route. It’s going to be a long afternoon and evening while we wait. We will make dinner arrangements for the team, but in the meantime, I only ask that we leave Commander Briar alone as he prepares for his night ahead. Our thoughts are with you, Commander, and I want to take this moment to thank you for taking this on and risking it all. I know, as do you, that this team has driven this mission, but it will be you who is forever enshrined as the hero who killed Chris. And don’t you ever forget that.”
Tears welled in Alina’s eyes as she delivered her closing remarks, and the team erupted into applause, clapping and whistling in Martin’s direction. He clasped his hands in front of his chest and bowed toward his team, never having felt so smothered in admiration. Every person on this jet would lay down their life for him—he knew that without a doubt. But tonight wasn’t about that. It was his turn to put his life on the line.
No one else could.
Chapter 22
Martin leaned back in his recliner, the team dispersing away as they respected Alina’s call to give him space in these moments before hitting the road. His flask of Juice throbbed in his pocket, and as much as he knew he shouldn’t take a quick trip into the past, the temptation was simply too much for him as he stared death in the eyes.
There had been plenty of instances where he didn’t get the closure he needed from those closest to him, but only one mattered that he’d risk slipping away for a few moments. Part of his late night tossing and turning was spent on thinking of the best way to slip in and out of the past without being caught.
I’m the Commander and don’t have to explain myself to anyone on this jet, he thought. But he looked around and knew that wasn’t true. It was wrong, perhaps unethical, to disappear moments before finishing the most crucial mission that ever existed. He knew his mind shouldn’t have even been distracted with anything else besides the mission, but the thought of potential death—combined with the unique, tempting access to time travel—left too many doors open.
Despite all of the preparation that had gone into the mission, Martin considered his odds of survival a fifty-fifty coin toss. Alina had confirmed as much when she admitted no one knew exactly how the scene would unfold once Martin arrived to Chris’s cabin. It could end within two seconds, leaving Martin dead in the snow.
I came into this time travel world for one thing, and I’m not leaving without at least saying goodbye the proper way.
He patted his pocket to confirm his wallet was there, then stood and crossed the jet to the bathroom, a couple of team members shuffling out of the way to clear a path in the cramped space. Martin kept his head down, avoiding conversation, making it seem like he was in a rush to get in the bathroom.
He promptly locked the door behind him, testing to ensure no one could get in. He debated playing a video or music, but the jet was already plenty loud thanks to the constant chatter. Ten minutes is all that would pass, and he supposed any amount of time longer in the bathroom might cause some people to worry and check on him.
Stop wasting time and get out of here.
Martin pulled out his flask and
wallet, flipping it open to the small portrait of Izzy he had carried since she was alive. It had definitely aged, its white border yellowing, the edges somewhat tattered despite being inside the flimsy protective sleeve. Freckles of lint and dust splattered across the surface, but nothing could take away from Izzy’s glowing smile and cheerful, bright eyes from her sixth grade school photo.
He shook his head, thinking of all the life that had occurred since her disappearance. All of the dark, gloomy days with no end in sight. From his world being flipped upside down when he had met Chris—and when he actually had his hopes up—to everything that had unfolded since then, seemed a blur.
He dropped to the floor and curled into a fetal position, not having any other options for his body to lay safely while it went to sleep for the next ten minutes. He unscrewed the flask, keeping the photo tight in his grip, and sipped, thinking specifically of February 12th, 1995 at four o’clock in the morning.
Martin screwed the lid back on, stuffed the flask into his pocket and let himself drift away, the faint rumbling visible only to him as the current world in 2020 gave way to twenty-five years earlier.
* * *
He woke up on the ground in the blistering cold of Winnipeg, jumping to his feet in a panic. He shouldn’t have expected anything different, but the weather still caught him by surprise after being stuck on the jet for the last two days. He chose 4 A.M. with hopes of catching the next flight south. Being at an airport hangar already was convenient, and he made his way across the tarmac toward the terminal. All the glitz and glamour that had surrounded the airport in 2020 were gone: the hotels, shops, dozens of car rental offices. He saw one hotel, no stores, and only three car rental offices. The rest of the space was open fields or runways.
The terminal was roughly 500 yards away, so Martin broke into a run. The freezing air attacked his lungs, feeling like tiny icicles poking him with each breath he took. The grounds were dark, still pitch-black as the sun wouldn’t rise for another couple hours, but that was fine with Martin as he moved in the shadows.
Time of Fate (Wealth of Time Series #6) Page 13