The White Warrior

by Marilyn Donnellan

  Allison pulled curtains around Emily’s bed. When Brogan walked into her mother’s area she could give her a hug away from prying eyes. Although still very weak, the IV and blood transfusion helped her to regain consciousness.

  “Oh, Brogan, you shouldn’t be here. It’s not safe. What if someone finds out who you are?” Tears started to trickle from the corners of her eyes.

  Brogan pulled a chair up beside the bed. “It’s okay, Mom. I had to come. And we’re going to get you, Dad, and everyone else out of here tomorrow.”

  Allison had just walked back into the room and exchanged a knowing look with Emily.

  “Honey, I can’t go with you.”

  “What do you mean, you can’t go with me? If you don’t escape, they will kill you. At the very least they will interrogate you and find out how who the leaders of the BL leadership council are. You must escape!”

  “Listen to me, sweetie. I’m dying. I have leukemia. We were told a couple of months ago I did not have long to live. We decided not to tell you because we didn’t want to worry you. I am just so thankful for a last chance to see you and tell you how much I love you, and how proud I am of you.”

  Brogan sat in stunned silence. She knew her mother wasn’t well. It had been obvious last time she saw her at the bonding ceremony. But, dying? No, it couldn’t be. She tried to cry, but she was too stunned and numb. She crawled up on the bed beside her mother and nestled her head against her shoulder. No words expressed her feelings. How long she lay there she did not know. At one point, she thought she heard her mother whisper, “You’ll make a wonderful mother,” but when she raised her head to look at her, she appeared to be peacefully sleeping with a smile on her face. She laid her head back on her mother’s shoulder and listened to her heart beat weakly. And then, suddenly, her heart stopped beating.

  The next thing she remembered was sitting at the table in Allison’s house, hearing Bryan pleading with her to eat something. Woodenly she put food into her mouth. With little warning, she had to run to the bathroom as it all came hurling up.

  Afterwards, she sat on the floor her head cradled on her arms, resting on the toilet seat, trying to remember what happened. But the block in her memory wouldn’t leave, so she stood up, rinsed out her mouth and walked back into the kitchen.

  From a distance, she heard Bryan telling her it was time to leave for the press conference at the airport. Did she want to stay at Allison’s or go?

  “I’ll go,” she heard someone say. The next thing she remembered was seeing Marco getting off the plane. What in the world was Marco doing on an airplane? He was supposed to be in Boston. The shooting started, and everything became a blur again until she discovered herself standing beside Marco’s bed. “Don’t worry, your safe, Marco,” she said, and collapsed.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The Reluctant Return

  “And that,” Brogan told Marco, “Brings you up to date with everything so far.”

  Allison turned on the vid-cast. News was full of the assassination of Major Riley and massacres of citizens, soldiers and media representatives.

  A representative of the prime minister’s public relations staff, Marco Anton, went missing after the incident and authorities feared he had been kidnapped. But he reportedly has been found at the home of a college friend, slightly injured but otherwise okay. He will return to the prime minister’s office later this evening.

  “Well, that’s a first,” Marco said jokingly at the sight of his picture on screen. “Always wanted to be on vid-screen. Guess I’ve just had my five seconds of fame. I just realized I probably better call my parents, so they know I’m okay.”

  He walked outside to make the call while the rest of the group continued to listen to the vid-cast. The media, of course, blamed Book Liberator protesters, even though they had no proof they were behind the assassination. Other reporters speculated the shooting was in retaliation for executions of energy grunts in Van Horn a few days earlier.

  During the evening, council members did more than discuss what happened at the airport and plan the next day’s prison escape, they also caught up on what had been happening in each of their lives.

  Marco, in his usually bantering style, jokingly said they ought to call themselves “The League of Extraordinary Book Liberators.” He told them about an old comic book series made into a movie in the 21st Century, “The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen.”

  “Each member of the league had extraordinary powers and they used them to save the world from various evil villains. Allison, your power is to heal people. Brogan’s is mind control. Bryan, you are the amazing architect of problem-solving. Juan is the military genius. Janice is the underground mole.”

  He paused. “Let’s see, my power is?”

  Before he answered his own question, Juan said, “Marco is the bull-shitter.”

  The group broke out in laughter at the accuracy of Marco’s statement. The levity was a great tension breaker.

  “Only thing missing in our League,” Bryan said, “is an expert in disguises. I’ll bet we will need someone with those skills before this whole thing is over.”

  Marco tried to convince the group to let him go into hiding with them, rather than go back to work for the prime minister. The matter was settled when Allison looked at him and said, “Marco, you can do so much more for us by staying close to the prime minister. You need to stay there.”

  “How can I say no to you?” he replied with a soft smile.

  So, he agreed, reminding them as he left for the airport he would use hand signals and other BL communication symbols to communicate information to council leaders. He reluctantly boarded the plane to Boston, determined to do everything possible to keep the council safe and continue the work of Book Liberators.

  The flight back to Boston was somber. The bodies of Major Riley and Lieutenant Benson stayed in San Antonio for cremation, with their ashes to be shipped to their families in Austin City. The pilot and remaining attendant were Marco’s only companions on the plane. He called the prime minister on his way to the airport, after cleaning off the flowerpot soil from the vid-phone.

  “Marco, why did you not call sooner?” the Prime Minister Altero asked without preamble, a scowl on his face.

  “Sorry, sir,” Marco said, trying to look contrite. “You would not believe how hectic it has been around here. A constant barrage by media and law enforcement. This was the first time I was free to contact you.”

  “Okay, fill me in. What’s your analysis of what happened? Any thoughts on who shot Major Riley?”

  “Well, sir, law enforcement here seems to think it was a family member of one of the people executed by Major Riley’s men in Van Horn. They found an old Winchester rifle on the roof of the hanger. The bullet which hit the major appears to match the rifle, although they won’t know for sure until they complete some tests. Apparently, everyone else killed were from military and local law enforcement responses to the one shot. The major’s security detail started indiscriminately firing into the crowd, as did local law enforcement. A couple of protesters must have had laser guns and were killed, but nobody is sure who shot whom. Maybe they were killed by the military who seemed so indiscriminate in their shooting. All in all, it was one big mess.”

  By then, the robo-car arrived at the airport.

  “Sir, I’m told I need to board the plane now. May I call you back when we are airborne?”

  “Certainly.” And the vid-phone went dead.

  Although the plane was now airborne, Marco kept putting off calling the prime minister. He could see nothing out the window since it was nighttime, so all he did was think. His mind kept bringing up pictures of Allison. Allison washing dishes. Allison checking the bandage on his head. Allison laughing. Allison somber. He shook his head and tried to collect his thoughts to decide what he was going to say to the prime minister, but all his thoughts kept returning to Allison. No woman ever affected him the way she had. Was it because she so adroitly ignored him?
A rare occurrence in his dating life. He was encouraged she named her dog after him, he thought with a grin. Maybe she did care for him.

  Come on, Marco! He had to get ahold of himself. he had a job to do. And a big part of the job was to make sure Allison and the rest of his friends stayed safe. He sat up straighter in his seat and pushed “call” on his vid-phone.

  “It’s about time, Marco,” a visibly upset prime minister said to him. “I don’t appreciate being kept waiting.”

  “Sorry, sir, but interference kept me from reaching you before now. Okay, what were we talking about? What do you need from me?”

  “Not much we can do now but it is clear the major really fucked up this whole thing. We must figure out how to keep it from turning into an all-out revolt. Protests are breaking out across the empire. Provincial law enforcement agencies can’t seem to deal with them. Some protests are violent. In some places groups of hobos have been tearing up railway tracks, halting transports of energy and produce. It’s become a real mess. As soon as your plane lands, come straight to my office. I want you to work directly with me on development of strategies to stop these Book Liberators once and for all.”

  “Sir, I’m really filthy. No chance to shower and my uniform is a mess. It’s covered in blood. May I go by my apartment first to clean up?”

  “No need. You come straight here. My secretary will see to it you have everything you need. I’ve ordered her to contact your parents to let them know you are okay. I’m going to put you up in an apartment here at headquarters. From now on you will work directly with me as my only public relations aide.”

  The prime minister clicked off. Marco was in shock. He had just gone from being a flunky in the communications division to a full-time aide to the prime minister. While part of him was thrilled at the promotion, at the same time he was terrified. If the prime minister ever found out he was one of the founders of Book Liberators, he was a dead man. But, he might be a direct help to the protest movement, much more so than if he stayed in his former job in the communications department.

  Marco was not naïve. He knew from studying the history of the Mafia when you played with fire you got burned. But he also knew if the other members of the BL council were on the run or hiding their identities, it was the least he could do for the cause.

  He laid his aching head against the body-molding seat and tried to doze for the remainder of the flight. Whatever happened, he was committed to doing everything possible to protect his friends and further the Book Liberators’ cause.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The Escape

  The next morning as Bryan, Janice, Juan and Allison sat at the table over another home-cooked breakfast, they discussed their next steps. With Major Riley dead, there would be no interrogation of prisoners anytime soon. Even so, they needed to do everything possible to get them out of prison, especially Frank since he knew the identities of the leaders of BL.

  A shaky Brogan walked into the kitchen and silence fell on the group. Bryan stood up and put his arms around her. Herman greeted her with his usual enthusiasm. She perched on a high-top chair next to the counter as she reached down to pet Herman, Bryan hovering anxiously behind her. She looked up at him.

  “I’m okay, honey. A good night’s sleep helped.” She looked at the faces of the people closest to her. She swallowed the large lump in her throat and said, “Thank you for your support. I apologize for collapsing last night. I guess everything just became too much for me.”

  She raised her hands to stop comments as everyone started to protest her need for apologies.

  “No, I need to say this. You all put your lives on hold, too. It is selfish of me, putting your lives in danger for the sake of my parents. I wouldn’t blame any of you if you decide to leave BL and council. But, I also know you well enough to know that’s not going to happen.”

  After a smile and a deep breath, she asked, “So, what’s the plan for today?”

  Bryan squeezed her shoulder but didn’t say anything. He told her later, he was so proud of her. Her strength was incredible. Her mother just died, her father was in prison, but the council and the mission of BL were still at the forefront of her thoughts.

  They made the decision to proceed as though the major had not been assassinated.

  “Too many people put too much work into this plan for us to not proceed,” Juan said. “We need to move forward. Besides, prison officials might be less apt to expect it after what happened on the tarmac.”

  “But before we do anything,” Allison interjected, “We need to discuss what will happen with your mother’s body, Brogan. Because she was a prisoner of the empire when she died, she will be cremated. I’m sorry, I tried, but I could not find out where her ashes will be put.”

  Brogan was silent for a minute. Allison’s heart reached out to her as she saw Brogan’s haggard face and the way her eyes sank deep into their sockets, surrounded by dark circles. She had aged overnight.

  “I expected it. My mother was a woman of great faith. I know it would not matter to her what happened to her body. She believed it was only a temporary house for who she was. Someday I’ll establish a memorial hologram for her at the family burial site in Van Horn. But, thanks, Allison for letting me know.” She paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts.

  “Now we need to get my father and the rest of the prisoners out of that hell hole. What will it take?”

  Brogan moved to the table and the group went back to work. Based on what they discovered at the prison, Brogan, Bryan and Allison decided to go back inside the prison and move prisoners to the cafeteria under the guise of getting them fed. Brogan and Bryan, wearing their black jumpsuits underneath, would discard their medical scrubs in the refrigerator unit.

  Janice and Juan were to make sure the hole was completed through the sewer up into the floor of the kitchen and into the refrigerator. They would verify local BL members were ready to guide prisoners through the sewers to different barrios within San Antonio. Afterwards, everyone would disburse and wait for communication from Brogan or Bryan if and where they would meet again as a council.

  The parade was scheduled to start at 9:30 am and would pass in front of the prison entrance around 10 am. Bryan finished up some last minute planning, while Brogan helped Allison clean up the kitchen. Just before they left for the prison, Allison followed Brogan to the upstairs bedroom and asked her how she was feeling.

  “Okay, I guess. Kinda queasy, but I’m sure it’s just a carry-over from everything that happened yesterday.”

  “I need to ask you something, Brogan. Could you be pregnant?”

  Brogan abruptly sat down on the bed and desperately tried to remember the date of her last period. With everything going on, she knew she was overdue for the annual pregnancy prevention shot, but she hadn’t even considered the possibility she was pregnant.

  “I thought the pregnancy prevention shot lasted longer than the year. I am never regular with my period and I just figured I was late because of all the stress. Is there a way for me to find out for sure?”

  “Sure, but it will need to wait until after the prisoner escape. Find a clinic where you can take a pregnancy test. If you are pregnant, will you want to keep the baby, or get an abortion?”

  “Oh, abortion is not an option,” Brogan said with finality. “But I’m going to need to talk to Bryan soon.” She stood up and gave Allison and hug. “Thank you for asking me if I am pregnant. I never thought this might be why I’ve been feeling crummy. It explains a lot. Don’t say anything until I talk to Bryan.”

  “Of course, not. You take care of yourself. Oh, and you better leave Herman here at the apartment. I’ll try and get him to you after the prison escape, but if I can’t I’ll take good care of him.”

  Brogan was in a daze as she put on scrubs and considered her possible pregnancy. It certainly might complicate their lives, especially being on the run and wanted fugitives. But suddenly a peace filled her as she knew how thrilled her mother would have
been at her pregnancy. If it was a girl, she would name her Emily after her mother.

  Bryan met her at the bottom of the stairs. He looked up at her, puzzled at the glowing smile on her face, such a contrast to the stoic look earlier.

  “Are you okay, honey?”

  “I’m fine, Bryan. And, after we deal with the prisoners we have lots to talk about, okay?”

  Before they walked out the door, they both said their goodbyes to Herman. Brogan knelt beside him, burying her face in his short, bristly fur. “You’ve been a wonderful companion, Herman. If I don’t see you again, you be good to Allison, okay?” He licked her face, whined and tried to follow her, but Allison made sure he and Marco Junior were safely inside the apartment before locking the door behind them.

  They climbed into Allison’s robo-car and went to UT Health Center. After checking in at the prison security, they walked into the first intake center. Brogan had not been able to tell her father about her mother’s death; she didn’t know if he knew or not. Sam, the security guard, let them in without a word.

  As she walked into the crowded room, she found her father huddled against the back wall, his face drawn and his eyes dark. He knew. Without a word, she knelt beside him and put her arms around him. At her touch, he started sobbing. She let him cry until he had nothing left and he heaved a deep sigh. Bryan touched her shoulder and softly whispered, “Honey, we need to move. It’s time to transfer the prisoners into the cafeteria.”

  She carefully helped her father struggle to his feet. Without a word he followed her out the door. Allison had bullied the security guard into allowing all prisoners to go to the cafeteria for something to eat.

  “Come on, Sam! These folks have had nothing but water for three days. Where’s your heart? Do you want more dead prisoners on your hands? As it is, we found five dead prisoners in here this morning. Let me take the rest into the cafeteria and feed them. With Major Riley dead, who knows how long it will be before someone comes along to interrogate them. You and your buddies in the tower can keep your guns trained on them. Besides, as weak as they are, they couldn’t run even if they wanted to. And, get someone to help you move the bodies out of here. I want them gone before we bring the prisoners back from the cafeteria.”