by R. E. Rowe
“A black sedan is in front of the building,” Honesti says. “It's here to take you to the airport.”
“You can handle this, brother man,” Bouncer says. “Go get ’em, boss.”
“A US military jet at Mildenhall will fly you to an aircraft carrier off the US East Coast,” Honesti says. “You will be dropped onto Alaric I using a stealth MH-60 Black Hawk helicopter. Now get moving. You’re running out of time.”
chapter thirty-two
We arrive at Heathrow and board an unmarked gray navy transport jet to fly us to an aircraft carrier off the East Coast of the US. The inside of the transport plane is nothing like Mack’s private jet. Metal struts and wires dangling from the ceiling, a few rows of worn leather seats, and an area in the back resembling a portable hospital. Two military women and a man in green scrubs and skin-tight gloves work on Bree’s wounds. They reattach a gold bracelet to her forearm.
After thirty-minutes, they’re done and help us change clothes into green, one-piece flight suits, then provide us with finger sandwiches and bottled water.
From the strain on Bree’s face as she takes a bite out of a sandwich, I can tell she’s in pain. A nurse gets me an ice bag to place on her neck bruise.
“I’m so sorry to hear about your mother,” Bree says.
“Thanks. I was really hoping she was with you.”
“They drugged me as soon as we left the island,” says Bree. “When I woke up, I was tied in that chair with Curtis doing his best to convince me he wasn’t the devil.”
“Well, at least he’s not around anymore to bother you.”
She forces a half-smile.
When I think of my mom, my insides burn. Static electricity builds on my fingertips.
“I was reflecting on what happened back there,” Bree says. “You were amazing. How did you learn to do what you did without a bracelet?”
“I’m not exactly sure. How do you think Dennis knew to get Zeke out of prison to kidnap my mom?” I ask.
Bree shrugs. “Zeke must be a follower who was working with General and decided to join up with Dennis.”
“But how would Dennis know about Zeke?”
“Cloud memory. Dennis is probably using Carmina's hack. If so, he has full data access. All lifetime memories are stored in the cloud. He probably found out about your girlfriend’s death and retrieved everything he could about it from her memory records. It’s an efficient system, each to query.” Bree struggles to take in a deep breath. “So you don’t know how you were able to control energy like you did?”
“All I know is the angrier I got, the more energy I collected. But to control it, I had to be calm and visualize how the energy should look. Once I was able to control my anger, the energy expanded and took shape.”
“What about Curtis?” she asks. “Where’d he go?”
“No clue, sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry about that. He used me and would have killed us both.”
“But the way he disappeared was pretty wicked,” Bree says.
“Yeah, I know. I wonder if Honesti and Bouncer can help us figure it out.”
“You mean your reckoners?”
“Yeah.”
“Are they talking to you now?”
“Come to think of it, no.” I take out the device from my backpack and set it on the airplane’s fold out table in front of my seat. “Let me try it this way.”
“Wouldn’t hurt to ask.”
When I tap the screen, Honesti appears as a holographic image hovering above the box. She’s wearing a professional black business skirt and jacket with a conservative white blouse under her jacket. Her hairstyle is different. Her gray hair has turned black. It’s long and curly, flowing down her back. Her lips glisten red. “I’m glad you are both recovering.”
“New hair style and outfit?” I ask the hologram.
Bree raises an eyebrow.
“I went with a younger version of myself. You like it?” Honesti spins around in a circle.
I nod and pass my hand through the projected image. “You look good dressed up.”
“So are you going to introduce me properly?” Honesti asks. “We were in a hurry last time.”
I roll my eyes. “Honesti, this is Bree. Bree, this is Honesti. Is that better?”
“Nice to meet you, Bree,” Honesti says. “I’m sorry about Carmina.”
Cold beams from Bree’s eyes. “We were on track until Dennis and Curtis went rogue. Carmina would have beaten General this time.”
“You’re probably right,” Honesti says. “We were all hoping she’d succeed.”
“Hey!” I say. “So you do have an opinion.”
Honesti's virtual face turns red. She shrugs.
“So where’s Bouncer?” I ask.
“Same place I was. But he’s still busy. We’ve located Carmina.”
“Really?” Bree asks “Where?”
“She’s safe, don’t worry. Before General could send her into the dark void, the council of souls intervened. They’re holding her until they reach a decision on what to do. At the moment, they’re quite concerned that you two will fail and Earth will be lost to Dennis.”
“What’s the council?” I ask.
“Thirty-three old souls who are supposed to watch over General and his keepers. Sort of like a board of directors,” Honesti says. “But that all changed when Carmina hacked the system.”
“Can’t this council just perform a miracle or something and fix everything?”
“I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way. There is order that must be maintained. Change must be agreed upon.”
“But that’s ridiculous,” I say. “Everyone keeps saying that General’s rules are outdated, so why doesn’t General change them?”
“Some souls feel the current system is perfect. They disagree that change is needed,” Honesti says.
“This is exactly why Carmina hacked the system,” Bree adds. “She was fed up.”
“Unbelievable.” I shake my head. “So where is Aimee? I want to talk with her about all of this. She’ll know what to do.”
Bree puts her hand on my shoulder. “Easy.”
Honesti smiles. “The council would seem to agree. They are working directly with Aimee. She’s trying to find a solution that works for everyone.”
“Aimee is working with thirty-three old souls?” I ask.
“Look,” Bree says, “right now we need to deal with Dennis, and save your mom and Mack. Let’s focus on that, okay?”
Damn it. She’s right. “Good point. We have another question for you, Honesti. Can you tell us how I was able to turn Curtis inside out without one of those slick gold bracelets?”
“We’re not exactly sure. Our data researchers are analyzing the cloud to try to find answers. No enforcer has ever been able to entangle beyond the ether without a gold bracelet and red beryl.”
“Tell us what you do know,” Bree says.
Honesti stands straight. “A large concentration of magnetic energy and gravity anomalies were detected when you moved your arms together outside of the elevator. It seems you somehow managed to bend three-dimensional space-time and affect a localized region with intense gravity. It was as if you were able to manipulate matter to create a gravity well.”
“You’re losing me,” I say, shaking my head.
“It appears you are able to connect from this present dimension to higher dimensions on a quantum level. Somehow, you focused energy, concentrated it, and then redirected the energy to a single point with an incredible amount of mass. You essentially created a type of singularity.”
“A singularity?” Bree asks.
“Well, sort of,” Honesti says. “A multi-dimensional opening interconnecting different dimensions beyond the ether to the place where only souls exist.”
Bree gazes at me with intensity. I look away and groan. None of this is making sense to me.
“How did you feel physically at the time?” Honesti asks me.
“I’m not sure really. My hea
d got really hot and there was a vibration between my ears so loud I couldn’t hear anything around me except for my teeth grinding. It was weird.”
“Did Curtis return beyond the ether?” Bree asks.
“Yes,” Honesti says. “The council of souls locked him up. They’re using the cloud to go through playbacks from thousands of different lifetime perspectives.”
“Lifetime playback?” I ask.
“Time isn’t the same beyond the ether, Reizo,” says Bree. “They’ll replay his life multiple times, and each time he’ll experience what every person around him experienced because of his actions. If he made people suffer, he’ll relive how they felt. It’s the ultimate payback to experience all the suffering a soul caused during a lifetime. It’s painful.”
“So Curtis will experience what he put you through too, from your perspective?” I ask Bree.
“Yeah,” Bree replies. “Payback is a bitch, huh?”
“There’s another piece of data you should both know,” Honesti says. “There are others with similar abilities to yours, Reizo.”
“Let me guess, Dennis?”
“Right. Dennis used Carmina’s silica technology and transferred from his biological body to a greatly improved body made from silicon,” Honesti says. “You need to be careful. He’s also gained control of Carmina’s clones. They’re taking commands from him now.”
A moment later, Honesti adds, “You’re nearing the aircraft carrier. Prepare for landing.”
The captain’s voice blasts over the intercom, “We are on approach. Prepare for landing.”
“Another thing,” Honesti says. “You’ll be meeting the DEVGRU team upon arrival.”
“What team?” I ask.
“DEVGRU stands for the Naval Special Warfare Development Group,” Bree says.
“They are the Navy Seal team that goes by the name Seal Team Shooting Star…” Honesti says. “STSS. They’ll be your support team.”
“What’s their exact mission?” Bree asks.
“Seal Team Shooting Star will neutralize the easier targets to allow you two to focus on finding Reizo’s mom, Mack, and disarming the bomb,” Honesti says. “Now you know why Dennis wanted you dead, Reiz.”
“I do?”
“Yes.”
“Mind telling me again?”
“You are the only one who can deactivate his nukes. Bree should focus on Carmina’s clones.”
I tighten both fists and whisper to myself, “Hang on, Mom. I’m coming.”
chapter thirty-three
I throw my backpack over my shoulders and follow Bree out of the military transport jet into pouring rain and gale force winds. The aircraft carrier is massive and the noise deafening. Parked planes are on one end, while another jet takes off from the other end.
A US Navy officer dressed in a tan uniform with a chest full of ribbons waves at us near the only structure on deck, a five-story building capped with antennas and radar dishes.
By the time we reach the officer, Bree and I are soaking wet. He’s a short, middle-aged man with a gray mustache in a navy uniform, holding an umbrella and giving us the once over.
The officer frowns. “Well, I’ll be damned. Y’all can call me Smitty. I’m the first officer.”
My teeth chatter as I shake the guy’s bony hand.
He continues. “By God, gettin’ younger every day.”
We follow him inside. Navy men and women move quickly through the carrier’s narrow hallways. A sailor throws us both a towel. Another navy officer enters from a level above, towering over us in a white uniform with black shoulder boards holding up gold stripes. He’s slightly out of shape, but impeccably dressed in a pressed shirt and pants. A lit cigar is wedged in one corner of his mouth.
Lines on the officer’s tanned face deepen and crisscross as he stares at Smitty, suggesting he’s the one in charge. “Enough, Smitty. Give these two youngsters a break. They’ve been through hell from what I’ve been told.” His voice booms.
He turns to us, smiles, and gives me a wink. “I’m the captain of this here little boat. Welcome aboard, you two. You must be Mister Rush and you must be Miss Pellegrini. I’m T.X. Baker.”
The tip of his long cigar glows red as he takes a deep drag, and he then holds out his hand for me to shake. “My staff calls me T. Rex behind my back. Tex to my face,” he says, grinning, then lets out a cloud of cigar smoke. “I recommend you stick with Tex.”
I grab his hand as hard as I can, but he stops short and grips my four fingers instead. My confident expression changes to shock when pain runs up my arm as his hand tightens. For a second, I’m sure all my fingers are broken.
Tex smiles from ear to ear, smoke rolling off his upper lip and over his face. “Known your cousin Mack for years...” He takes another puff of cigar and lets it out. “Glad my boat can be of assistance, son.”
Blood forces its way back into my crushed hand. “Thank you, sir,” I say, my voice cracking.
He continues. “We’ve already been briefed by SOCOM. Target is in range.”
“SOCOM?” I ask.
“Special Ops Command,” Bree whispers to me.
Tex takes another long drag. “You can gear up down the hallway, second door on the right.”
Smitty clears his throat. “You’ll both need fresh bags on. When you’re ready, I’ll take you to the chopper to meet the rest of your team.”
“Fresh bag?”
“Flight suit, Mister Rush, now get your happy feet dancing. We’re nearly out of time,” Captain Tex says, chewing on the end of his cigar. “Godspeed.”
I'm about to tell him we just changed into the flight suits we're wearing, but Bree says, “Thank you, Captain.”
“This way.” Smitty leads us down a gray metal staircase with a matching handrail to a room one level down. We walk through a metal hatch. The room is medium-sized with racks of uniforms and black flight suits along one wall. On the other wall are shelves of automatic rifles and guns. “Please hurry. I'll be back in a few minutes.” Smitty turns around and walks out the metal hatch.
“Bree? A little help here,” I say, peering at the intimidating guns filling up one entire wall.
Bree takes a quick look around. “We’ll do better without them. Get dressed.” She winks, then grabs a flight suit, and disappears into a dressing room.
I find a flight suit that fits and change into it, then throw my backpack over one shoulder just as Bree exits the dressing room with a rubber band in her hand. She stretches the rubber band as she walks.
“A rubber band?” I smirk. “New weapon?”
“Don’t be silly.” She twists her wet hair and ties it with the rubber band. She’s in badass mode again. Man, oh man! Even with her hair in a ponytail, she looks amazing.
I pull out the device from my backpack and press the display. “Honesti, can you hear me?”
“Yes,” Honesti says out of the device’s speaker. “I’ll relay information to you.”
Smitty marches into the room and takes a short breath. “Follow me,” he says. “MH-60 is waiting.”
He jogs us up to the main deck to an idling black helicopter with its blades rotating. Luckily, the rain has stopped, but the wind is still blowing hard as we climb aboard the chopper.
Five men and three women are already sitting on board in helmets, life jackets, vests, backpacks, and body armor. They all hold automatic rifles. No one says a word, but just stare, apparently sizing us up.
An older man in a flight helmet and a green jump suit jumps in to the helicopter behind us, and slides the door closed. He has a hardened face and bulging muscles. “Welcome aboard, I’m Sergeant Timms. When we arrive on site, we’ll hover thirty feet above the target, you’ll fast-rope down.”
“Fast rope?” I ask.
He sighs. “Descend using a rappel rope. Here, put on these gloves and helmets.” He tosses them to us. “Once you flip the switch on the side of your helmet, the comm broadcasts when you talk. Everyone will hear you, so don’t
embarrass your damned self, understood?”
I raise my eyebrows. “Descend? On a rope?”
“Don’t worry, we’ll walk you through it, son,” he says with his face squeezed up like a dried prune.
I put the helmet and gloves on, but leave the switch off and grab the underside of my seat as the helicopter lurches in a burst of acceleration. “Now what?”
Honesti answers. “We reach the target ship in sixty minutes.”
“How will we know where to go when we get there?” I whisper.
“I have a map of the ship’s internal layout,” Honesti says. “When you arrive, I’ll guide you with real-time directions. Richard’s instructions are to blow up their command center, take out Dennis, and then rescue your mom and Mack. He was very clear about the order. The command center controls the liberator weapon. It needs to be disabled permanently. Do you understand?”
“Forget that,” I say. “Since when is Richard giving me orders? He’s not even here. We’re saving my mom first. His Navy Seals can deal with the command center.”
“But—” Honesti starts.
“Will you please let me focus and only talk when you have information for me? Just like we did at Willowgate, got it?”
Bree glances over at me and is about to say something, but then she nods and turns away. From her expression, I can tell she gets that I’m talking to my reckoners.
“Brother man means business,” Bouncer says. “I’m in.”
“Fine,” Honesti says in a huff.
Time passes slowly while the helicopter speeds toward our target. My anger continues to grow. I worry about Mom and try not to imagine Zeke hurting her. I still can’t believe that the rich kid, drug dealer turned out to be what they call a follower. His ancestor was one too and responsible for killing Great-grandpa Wesley. He’d been working for General all along, and now he’s working for Dennis. Bastard.
After an hour of silence, Sergeant Timms yells, “Two minutes people.”
I peer at Bree with wild eyes. Her face has become purple and more swollen. My blood boils.
“Are you okay?” she asks.
I nod and tighten my face.
“Fifteen seconds, people! Positions!” The sergeant slides open the helicopter’s door, letting the outside roar fill the inside. The team stands and adjusts their equipment.