The First

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The First Page 10

by A. Claire Everward


  But it was more than that. It was almost as if Jennison had expected Kyle to side with his target, this target. And that was Jennison's weakness right now. Kyle believed, and was about to bet his life on it, that Jennison would never think Kyle would actually leave Aelia and return straight to the organization's midst.

  Which was exactly what he was planning to do.

  Traveling in a private jet gave him the freedom to choose where to land, and he chose a general aviation airport just outside Glendale, Arizona. The place was small, yet it could easily accept a non-scheduled private jet, and it was designated to serve as a reliever for a nearby international airport, which meant it was a port of entry to the United States. They weren’t likely to attract unwanted attention here. And, perhaps most important, it wasn’t an airport the organization used.

  He left the security detail behind and took off by himself. Wanting to remain untraceable, he stole a car a distance away, where no one would be likely to look for it until morning, and, after making sure he wasn't followed, he drove through Glendale to a place he kept a small storage space in. He had similar storage spaces in several different locations worldwide, all unknown to anyone but him, all kept in cities the organization had no people in.

  The building he entered housed hundreds of self-service storage units at a range of sizes. His was paid for ten years in advance, just in case. He wanted to make sure no one would even consider accessing it. Reaching it, he opened the door, revealing that the space behind it had been converted into a vault, with its own emergency ventilation system. An entire wall was fitted with shelves stocked with weapons and cash in a variety of currencies, as well as fake IDs. Against the opposite wall stood a mattress, and beside it everything he would need to spend a few days there in an emergency. A safe house, for all intents and purposes. He took it all in, then entered and chose an outfit that would be most suitable for what he was planning to do, and picked up a small console. Then he armed himself and left, shutting the vault behind him.

  He had ditched the car he stole, so he walked in the dark until he came across a motorcycle that fit his purpose. He used the console to disconnect the motorcycle’s systems and reconnected them again through it. Soon the motorcycle purred under him, and he quickly left Glendale behind him, due southwest. His destination was about an hour away, maybe less this time of night and on this powerful machine. This one was a small city, much smaller than the one he’d just left behind. Unassuming, mundane. Miles of open spaces around it, some farms on the outskirts, small streets, homes and schools. Shops, not even a mall, nothing that would attract anyone here. A seemingly simple place. A place the organization controlled. Only it’s people lived here, their families. And him. This was where he’d grown up.

  He knew what to do to avoid detection. He stayed well away from the heart of the place, and headed straight to a building on the outskirts, one he'd known throughout most of his life. From the outside, the simple, concrete one-story building seemed harmless enough. It looked as if it might house a research laboratory of sorts or perhaps serve as an uninteresting storage space. But in reality it was a fortified structure, completely empty on the inside except for a reception desk with two people, a man and a woman, both in fact highly trained organization personnel. Behind them, elevators went down to a number of underground floors, each with its own designation. Offices, an advanced technology intelligence center, a firing range, training areas. Everything, in fact, that was needed to support the army that was the heart of the organization that had been constructed around a single goal—to protect humanity. This, an unimposing concrete structure in an unlikely location, was in reality the organization's main training facility.

  Kyle hid the motorcycle some way off and made his way carefully toward the building. Whether they would be on the lookout for him or not, operating procedure dictated that in these circumstances they would be on heightened alert. He knew better than to try to find a way into the building using any type of electronic means, because the facility's systems would automatically flag anything out of the ordinary. These people were far from amateur. And they knew him, his familiarity with the complex. This meant it might be better to go in the old-fashioned way, by simply sneaking in. And the building did have one weakness that would work to his advantage, even given the remote chance that they would think him bold enough to double back and strike at their heart.

  Jennison was his father's best friend and Kyle's godfather. As a child, long before he'd begun his formal training in the organization, Kyle spent a lot of time freely roaming the facility. Freely being the key word here. Bored, a child among adults who had no time for him but could not boss him around because of who he was, he spent long days exploring the place in and out. As a result, Kyle the child knew everything about this building that others had long since forgotten. And Kyle the adult was about to use a way in only he knew about.

  Back then, the ventilation systems of the underground floors were replaced to accommodate new technology, and a service tunnel was dug to facilitate the work. A very interested young Kyle enjoyed the commotion and spent a lot of his time around the workers. The foreman, who had a child his age, took to him and let him play in a section of the tunnel that led from ground level to the first underground floor.

  When the job was finished, Kyle begged the foreman not to seal the tunnel as he was contracted to do. The man did, but he left a narrow way through for the boy, which he even secured to ensure its safety. He said he'd return to seal it after a while, explaining to the boy that he had no choice but to do so because he was contracted to maintain strict security parameters. But he never did come back. As an adult, Kyle could only guess why. Forgot, perhaps, or just decided to leave a lonely young boy this isolated place he enjoyed so much. Whatever the reason, the tunnel remained. When Kyle himself became an active member of the organization, he considered pointing it out and having it sealed but eventually decided against it. Ironically, at the time he thought it would add to the facility’s security because it constituted a way in or out, albeit a narrow one, in the event of an attack on the building. So he made sure it could not be found unless someone actually knew where it was, but did not go so far as to tell anyone about it. Not even his godfather.

  No one knew it was there except him.

  He watched the facility for a while before he proceeded. He had no doubt Jennison was there—he always stayed in at times of crisis—and was eager to get in, but he had to be careful not to be detected by security. The place was covered by multipurpose sensors and cameras, and patrolled by teams dressed as the security employees of a known commercial company, to hide the fact that they were trained at a level that wouldn’t shame the best military combat soldiers and were, in fact, organization operatives. He could quickly tell that more teams had been added and that the patrol intervals were reduced to increase coverage. None of them was alone, they walked in twos and were alert. But that was it, which led him to believe that Jennison really didn't expect him to return.

  Getting to the tunnel was easy. He knew where each sensor was and the camera coverage, and anyway the tunnel originally opened far enough from the building so as not to interfere with the current operation of the sensitive electronic security systems. Under the cover of darkness, Kyle went straight to where its entrance was hidden, uncovered the lid that closed it under shallow ground, between thick shrubbery, and slipped in quickly. He had to get in legs first, to be able to secure the entrance behind him, and then had to reverse carefully to a slightly wider cross section in order to turn around. He wasn't child-sized anymore.

  The tunnel brought him exactly where he wanted to get to, the first underground floor level. Because no one expected intruders to get through security at the ground level, security here was less than on the outside. Kyle exited the tunnel in the small utility room it led into, took off the black coveralls he was wearing and placed them in the tunnel, then closed it and pushed the panel hiding it back into place. He listened at the door, b
iding his time, and then walked into the empty corridor, adjusted the cap on his head low over his eyes and walked directly to Jennison's office. He was dressed as the security personnel on this level were, and, as he had expected would be the case, those around him didn't see the obvious. No one expected him to be there, and they noticed the clothes, not the man wearing them.

  Lucky for Kyle, Jennison's vanity had led him to take an office on this floor. As the head of the facility he should have had a more secure office on a lower level, but he liked the hum of the offices around him and the knowledge that all the main floors of the facility were under him, that he was in control. His office was at the end of a short corridor, through a heavy door with his name and title on it. Kyle threw a look behind him. The corridor was empty. He wasn’t detected yet, then. Hoping the guards behind the closed circuit television would miss looking at the screen of the camera immediately above him just a moment longer, he opened the door and walked in.

  Behind the desk, Jennison raised his head up from his laptop and got up so fast that his armchair flew back. “What the . . .”

  “Hello, Uncle Howard.”

  “How did you—” But then Jennison stopped and let out a hard laugh. “Yes, of course you'd find a way in.”

  “What? No call to security?”

  “No, not you. Not against you. You're family.”

  “Am I?” Kyle took a step forward. “Then why did you send a killer after me? And while we’re at it, who did you send? Semner, I presume? I don't see your guard dog here at your heels, after all.”

  “I would never send someone to harm you.”

  Kyle looked at him menacingly.

  “I sent someone after your target. You weren't doing the job, so someone else had to.”

  “No, I know you. And you know me, you've known me all my life. We've had setbacks on jobs before, all of us, and we've never been interfered with unless there was absolutely no choice. And you've never sent someone to replace me on a job, certainly not without telling me. And certainly not on this job.”

  “You weren't functioning as planned.”

  “You mean I was asking questions.”

  Jennison didn't answer.

  “Well, I've got some more questions, and you're going to answer them.”

  Jennison walked around the desk and began walking toward Kyle, but the man's forbidding expression made him stop. He sighed. “Right. Ask your questions.”

  Kyle knew exactly what question to begin with, the same one he'd asked Jennison on the phone only days ago. “Who is she?”

  “You know who she is.”

  “Ah, yes. She who will bring about the destruction of humanity. Danger in its purest form, wasn't that what you and my dad taught me?”

  “And that's exactly what she is.”

  “Is that so? Because it sure didn't look like that to me.”

  “No, it wouldn't, would it?” Jennison mumbled bitterly.

  “What was that?” Kyle walked toward him slowly. “That doesn't seem to surprise you. In fact, it almost seems as if you had expected me to switch sides to hers.”

  Jennison avoided his eyes.

  “So you did. Why?”

  Jennison remained silent.

  “Why?” Kyle's voice was ice.

  Jennison still didn't answer. Kyle thought hard. The events of the past days raced through his mind, contrasting with what this man had taught him his entire life. What he had seen Aelia do. His reaction to her, his would-be target, and her reaction to him. What he sensed, felt, from her and in himself when he was around her, the new instincts she had awakened in him. And memories, shards of memories that simply could not be. These all intertwined with what he'd encountered at Aeterna, the perceived peacefulness of its people, their protectiveness of Aelia, their kind treatment of him, the man they knew had been sent to kill her. Just days ago he would have taken Jennison's words, his description of this woman, the target, as a given, but now he knew it could not be true.

  And Jennison's behavior was only proving it.

  “Why me?” he suddenly asked.

  “What?”

  “Why me, why was I chosen for this? I've heard about this ‘enemy of humanity’ ever since I was a kid, and yet I was never allowed to tell anyone. None of the others knew, only us and dad and his friends, and how many in the organization really know? I was chosen by you, wasn't I? Trained to be the one to stop her because you decided it should be so. Brainwashed almost, isn't that true? Your own family. Why?”

  “You were available at the time, it was the most convenient—” Jennison didn't finish his sentence before he was picked off the floor and thrown against the wall like a rag doll. The photograph he hit, which showed him smiling, his hand on the shoulder of a very young, still innocent Kyle, crashed to the floor, the glass shattering loudly into a thousand pieces, although all Jennison was aware of was the screaming pain in his limbs.

  The pain was forgotten a mere moment later as he realized the man who caused it was advancing on him, his eyes full of fury. Jennison shied from Kyle as the powerful man bent down and grabbed the lapels of his shirt, repeating, “Why me?”

  “Because you're the only one who can!” Jennison screeched as he felt himself being pulled up. “You're the only one who can kill her!”

  Kyle let him drop him and stepped back in surprise. His mouth opened to say something, but he found he had no idea what. A fleeting memory flashed, another piece fell into place. His mind reeled.

  “Anyone else can only hurt her, believe you me, we tried. We think that you're the only one who can kill her.” Jennison continued resignedly, rubbing the back of his head. “You're the one their stories name, you stand as her born champion.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Jennison got up slowly and sat on his chair with a sigh. “Fine. You want to know, here it is. She belongs to another race that has lived on this planet long before we have. A race far more . . . far more than we are, simply said. Firsts, they dare call themselves. And they’re a danger to humanity, they could wipe us out. We've known about them for a long time now. This”—he indicated the facility around him—“all we've done since before my time, has been about them. And the way to get rid of them is to get rid of the force or whatever it is that is their heart, their very being. And that's her. That woman, that . . . that thing we sent you after.” He said the word with hatred, almost fearfully. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. “According to their stories there is a man who is born around the same time as her for one purpose, and one purpose only—to protect her. Always one man.” He indicated Kyle with his head. “And that's you. You're one of them.”

  “One of . . . another race? A force? Are you out of your mind?”

  “It's true. Only a handful of people know this, it's the best kept secret of this organization. It's the reason we started this, to stop them. A whole different race coexisting with ours on this planet. And you are one of them. Didn't you ever wonder? Didn't you see what you can do, how no one else here can match you?” He snickered. “Yes, one of them. Except they didn’t get you, did they? We did.”

  “What do you mean you got me? And why . . .” Even as he spoke, the picture, as impossible as it seemed, was beginning to form in his mind. “You sent me after her!”

  “It was the only way. The only way we could turn the future, our future around was if you were to turn on her. You were born to protect her but you’re the one who can kill her. That's their stories, I tell you, that’s what they say.”

  “So by taking me you actually took away her only way to defend herself. And then you sent me to kill her. A defenseless woman.”

  “Except not really defenseless, is she?” Jennison laughed bitterly. “She has the most advanced species on this goddamn planet on her side. She's got you on her side! We spent years preparing you, and she turned you in what, a day?”

  “Which is apparently how it is supposed to be.” Kyle murmured to himself in disbelief. In a s
udden bout of renewed fury, he lunged at the man before him. “You lied to me my entire life!”

  “We couldn't tell you!” Jennison said in panic, half waiting for the iron muscles to crush him. “It didn't—”

  “It didn't fit in with your plan.” Kyle interrupted savagely, then let go of Jennison with an anguished cry, and turned toward the door. But then he stopped, half-turned back.

  Jennison panicked. “I won't tell! I won't tell them you know!”

  He cringed under the bigger man’s icy gaze. “No, do, do tell them. Tell them if they try to come after her, I will come after them.” Kyle closed his eyes. “Answer me one more question. My father.”

  “He wasn’t your father,” Jennison blurted out. “He wasn’t even your family. We took you from them when you were a child. We had someone on the inside. She saw you, you were a small child, you left your mother's side and ran to a baby, a girl, ran to her and took her hand in yours and you wouldn’t leave her. You stayed beside her, refusing to let go. I don't know, the woman who saw you, what she described was absolutely fantastic. She said every one there had turned to you, could not take their eyes off these two young children, and she said people around her said they thought they saw something else, something . . .” He shook his head. “Anyway, we guessed. We guessed who you must be, who she was. We hoped we were wrong, but couldn't risk it. So we took you away just in case. Both of you.”

 

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