The Vision Master

by William Hill

"Home?" Carol asked Liam, unbelievingly.

  "Why not? Can't think of a safer place. Who'd look for us there? They'd expect us to try and put as much distance between there, or here, and them, as possible. Besides, we know that area."

  "But people know us there," Carol pointed out.

  "Only if we let ourselves be seen. We can hide out in my home. There's food, beds, everything we need."

  "I still don't like it!" Carol said adamantly.

  "Neither do I," Scott seconded.

  "Drew?" Liam asked.

  "I don't know. No one was supposed to know about your Gran's place in D.C., either. But they either followed us there or knew about it all along, because they got there pretty much right after we did."

  "Okay, then, where else?” Liam wanted to know. "Suggestions?"

  "Why don't we try calling one of your uncles?" Carol suggested. "We have the phones your uncle gave us."

  "I'd completely forgotten about the phones," he admitted. "Go ahead, try one of them."

  Carol pulled out of her pocket the one Liam had given her, got the contact list, and dialed the first number.

  "Yes," she heard Del's voice answer.

  "It’s us," she told him.

  "What’s wrong?" he asked. She told him everything that had happened, what Liam had done, and how they'd escaped, including Liam's thoughts of going home.

  "Okay. Wasn't expecting this, at least so soon; I'd hoped for more time. You guys have done well, we'll work this out. Give me a minute to think."

  After a couple of minutes of silence, Carol was beginning to think they'd been disconnected. "Del?" she said.

  "I'm here. Listen up. Your and the brother's family are safe, so don't worry about them, ok? And tell Liam that his is too, even his dad and grandmother. I'll explain that when I see you all. Your game plan is basically sound, except I want you guys to come to my house instead of Liam's. Where are you now?"

  "Where are we?" She asked Liam.

  "Georgetown. Starting to cross Key Bridge."

  Carol relayed that to Del, who then told her, "Tell Liam to keep to the speed limit, we don't need you to get pulled over, and to drive safe. Call me again just before you get here. I'll have the garage door open. Park inside. See you soon."

  As they drove over the bridge, Liam saw something below on the Potomac that caught his attention. Glancing down with one eye as he kept the other on the traffic in front of him, he saw two crews rowing their Eights from under the bridge. He recognized their colors of blue and gray as those of Washington-Lee High School in Arlington. They were one of the oldest schoolboy teams, started over sixty years ago and when the only teams they could row against were those of local D.C. universities and private Prep Schools from up north. They had once won the Princess Ann Cup at the renowned Royal Henley Regatta in England in the ‘60’s, and were always a threat in any competition. He envied those boys down there and wondered, as he continued glancing at the shells winding up the river as he drove into Virginia, if he would ever get to row again, let alone return to his former, more normal, life.

  Carol noticed Liam’s wistful look and looked to see what he was looking at. Seeing, she understood completely. Looking out her window, she, too, had a wistful look on her face.

  The trip around the Beltway back to Maryland and then to St. Mary's was uneventful; there was very little traffic once they left the Beltway. Liam stayed to the posted speed limit, even though not a state trooper was to be seen, because unmarked patrol cars or radar traps are not uncommon.

  As they neared Del's house, Carol once again called to let him know they were almost there and, as they pulled into his driveway, Del was there opening the garage door. Liam pulled in and parked next to Del's car as Del shut the door.

  "Glad to see you made it safely," he told the kids as they got out of the car. "Come on inside, you're just in time for a Circle Meeting."

  They looked at one another, surprised, and followed Del in through the kitchen and into the living room, where they were taken aback upon seeing everyone there, with one glaring absence, Smith. As Carol ran to hug her father, Liam walked over to his, and to his grandmother, and hugged them tightly, tears in his eyes.

  "Boy, I'm sure glad to see you two!"

  Drew and Scott merely looked on, a little let down that one of their parents wasn't there to meet them. Liam's grandmother, after greeting Liam, walked over to the brothers and gave each of them a hug as well.

  "Your parents know you're here, safe, and send their love," she told them, brightening their spirits.

  "Is our family still in Baltimore?" Scott asked. "I'm a little worried that they might be found, since we were found. Your 'safe houses' don't seem to be all that safe!"

  She laughed. "Well, the one in the District surely wasn't, was it? We've theorized that since I went there occasionally I may have been followed once. But the house in Baltimore hasn't been visited by any of us in quite some time, so it's probably still under anyone's radar. But, just to make sure, we got them out anyway. A long story short, they're in Canada, along with Carol's family. We've friends there that are taking care of them all," Liam's grandmother told them.

  “What happened to you and Dad?” Liam asked.

  “Later,” she said. "Everybody! Have a seat," she announced. "I hereby call to order this War Council."

  "War?" Liam asked.

  "War. We should consider ourselves under siege. They have attacked us, without just cause or provocation."

  "Who are 'they', and what do they plan to do?" Carol asked.

  "Smith and his minions and, unless he's gone rogue, his handlers too. We can only assume that since he's after you Liam, strong-armed Mom and me, and brought everyone else in for questioning as to your whereabouts — they only let us go because we convinced them we had no idea where you were — that they consider you, and perhaps potentially all of us, as a threat. A threat to what I can't imagine, but then again, since 9/11, the paranoia in certain political blocs and agencies of the government has reached pathological levels, almost where anyone who disagrees with them is considered a potential terrorist who merits watching. What they plan to do with any of us, I don't know, your guess is as good as mine, although it's safe to say, based on human nature, that when felt threatened, mankind has always tried to neutralize the threat by trap and cage, or kill it" Liam's father explained.

  "Now 'they' have become a ‘terrorist’ threat to us'," Carol's father added, "and we have to decide how we're going to respond."

  "Any thoughts?" Gran asked, as Liam observed everyone deferring to her leadership.

  "We don't know, other than Smith, exactly who 'they' are. Is Smith a rogue, unsanctioned, acting on his own without license? Or is he under orders? And, if he's being ordered, from who and how high? Until we know what we're up against, I recommend the 'Highland' way," Gene offered.

  "What’s the 'Highland' way?" Scott asked.

  Liam's father explained. “Back in the twelfth, thirteenth centuries, when the English were invading Scotland, the Clans were usually heavily outnumbered. Whenever they met on open field, the Clans would assess the odds against them. If they figured they weren't good, they'd run away to fight another day. That's what's meant by the 'Highland' way. No point jumping into a slaughter just because you want to fight. When you fight, you do it on your own terms, at a time and place of your own choosing, when the odds are more in your favor."

  "One option would be to search out and neutralize Smith. If that stops any further action against us we could assume he's acted on his own," Liam's father suggested.

  "Unless his superiors don't know he's been after us, and then they would assume we've initiated an attack on them, and they'd be sure to retaliate," Gran countered.

  "Couldn't we just get a-hold of his boss and ask?" Carol asked.

  "We could. Then either they'd take care of him for us, and we could show our loyalty by working with them, or they'd step up
their assault if he’s under their orders and ambush us,” Gene said.

  Liam's grandmother looked over to him and noticed that he was fingering the owl pendant hanging from his neck, the one she’d given him long ago. "Liam, you're the focal point here. You've been listening and obviously thinking about everything that’s happened and what’s been said. What are your thoughts? What’s your ‘inner owl’ say?”

  "I agree that if we did contact Smith's boss, as Carol suggested, and he told us Smith was acting without license from him, and accepted our help in capturing Smith, it might stop everything. Or not. He could really be working with Smith and use it to trap us as Gene said. I think the only real options we have are to either take out Smith on our own and then contact Smith's boss to explain why we did, and hope he believes us, or do the Highland thing and be on the run, having to hide and constantly look over our shoulders."

  "I think there's a middle road here. We fight and then run, if we have to," Drew interjected. He added, "Aren't there others we could enlist to help us if we do your 'Highland' thingy… and also go after Smith? That way we'd have both greater power through greater numbers and exercise the best defense, which is offense."

  "That’s not a bad idea!" Carol's father said.

  "How'd you become such a military strategist?" Gene asked.

  "A lot of war-game playing online, I guess."

  "Well, that seems to speak to every option" Liam's grandmother observed. "Let’s go with that, unless something else happens. I'll contact the Circle in Philly. Will? Get hold of the one in Richmond. That way we can run in either direction. Besides, if 'they' are after us, they could also be after other Circles. We need to know."

  As his Gran and father got on their phones to make their contacts, his Uncle Del pulled Liam away from the others and whispered to him. "Your use of visioning yourself as someone else to get that car in Arlington was brilliant, Liam. I'm really amazed that you even thought of doing it, let alone succeeding. I've heard rumors of it being done before, but I've always thought it something of an old wives’ tale. You know, one of those legends they're always telling about ancient Masters a long, long time ago. It’s easy to create just about anything you want in a vision except changing yourself because one’s perception of one’s self is so thoroughly a part of one’s ego that to see one’s self as someone else is virtually impossible. You keep surprising us with how strong your power is, and how intuitive you are using it. Believe me when I say I feel both inadequate compared to you and, at the same time, privileged to know you, and I hope to learn much from you."

  Liam really didn't know how to respond to all this praise. He'd always felt a little uncomfortable around both his uncles; of the two, only Gene was married, and neither had any children and, perhaps that being the reason, both seemed a bit stand-offish towards Liam as he grew up, as if they had no idea how to interact with a kid. He knew his father and uncles, and their only, older, sister hadn't much of a childhood themselves. Liam's grandfather had been a fireman and died of a heart attack after fighting a particularly bad fire when Liam's father was fourteen. Their sister had soon married and moved out, and the boys had had to grow up quickly by taking part-time jobs after school, leaving them no time to just be kids themselves.

  His grandmother looked up and announced, "I wasn't able to reach anyone, even on the emergency line."

  His father didn't seem to be having any luck, either, until he suddenly started listening on his phone, asking a couple of questions to whoever was on the other end. He had a concerned look on his face. Hanging up, he looked at everyone, stopping at his mother.

  "That was Tom. He said that they've been under attack by unknown Masters who have been suppressing their visioning and neutralizing them. Several of their Circles have simply disappeared. Tom's headed out of town now, but wouldn't tell me where; he said he'd try to contact us when he felt safe enough."

  "Looks like we're on our own," Gran said quietly. "Okay, then, I suppose we should re-discuss our plan. Attack, retreat, or both as Drew suggested.”

  "The Highland way," Del suggested.

  “Where to?" Will asked.

  "Southwest Virginia. There are hundreds of caves throughout the area where we could establish a base, and we'd be closer to the Circles in Nashville or Wheeling. I've all the equipment we need — ropes, carabineers, lamps, tents and the like. We just need to bring plenty of warm clothes as caves are a bit chilly."

  "What about food and water?" Gran asked.

  "We'll take what food stuffs we have. We've all got guns."

  "And I have plenty of archery!" Carol's dad interjected.

  "Good! I'd forgotten you're heavy into bow hunting, Carroll. Anyway, guns and bows for hunting, and there are a lot of fresh water springs," Del finished.

  "I still say the best defense is a good offense," Drew told them.

  "Liam?" Carol asked.

  He saw everyone stop and look at him, as if whatever choice he made would decide their fate. He just hoped his choice would be the right one.

  "I agree with Drew. We attack, and if we meet heavy resistance that we can't overcome, we can run and do as Uncle Del suggests."

  "Anyone dead set against that plan?" Gran asked.

  When no one objected, she started handing out assignments. "Carroll, you and Carol go your place and get your stuff. Will, take Drew to yours, and Gene, take Scott. Del, get busy here. Liam, you're with me, we're going to ‘strattergerize’, as a former President once misspoke."

  “'Strat' what?”

  “Strategize. Plan our strategy; make plans”. More as an aside to herself than speaking to anyone in particular, she added under her breath, shaking her head, “Poor man! Native born and raised in this country, of wealthy educated parents, he himself with a degree from Yale, and still he had a problem with the English language. Can’t understand how he ever got elected to anything.”

  As everyone left to get what they could, Gran looked at him and asked him for his thoughts. "I have a few of my own, but what do you think is our order of business?"

  "I suppose who, where, and when to attack. And how."

  "Smith is the obvious choice of 'who', and 'when' has to be soon, but not before we're ready," she said. "And ‘where’ would you attack him?"

  He fell silent as he tried to remember all the Sherlock Holmes and James Bond books he'd read. Each one could give him an idea. Then he remembered another book, The Colditz Story, which was about a German POW camp, in Saxony, for Allied Officers who had managed to escape from at least one other POW camp, and were recaptured, during WWII. It was a medieval castle that the Germans strengthened and thought completely escape-proof. The Germans were so supremely overconfident that they'd not foreseen the resourcefulness and determination of the prisoners, and many successful escapes happened. He felt certain that Smith would feel equally safe in his “castle”.

  "We attack where Smith would least expect, where he believes he's safest. His home," he suggested.

  "That leaves the 'how'. How could we get to him?" she asked.

  "We vision in and suppress him, I guess."

  "That can only work with one of us, Liam."

  "Why only one?"

  "You are the only one among us that has been able to suppress another's abilities, alone and while visioning, as you demonstrated at that Circle meeting where you stopped Smith from leaving, while you yourself were visioning-in from a distance. For any of the rest of us, we'd have to be physically nearby to suppress. I have the strongest visioning ability of any of us, except you, and I can't do what you've done, Liam. If that's the plan, only you can do it."

  Chapter Twenty Five: Plan A

  “When I dare to be powerful — to use my strength in the service of my vision - then it becomes less and less important whether I am afraid.”