Out of Time (The Adventures of Eric and Ursula Book 4)
Page 19
"Our military, air force, the space programme and national security all benefitted during the time we worked together, even if you weren't aware of my presence. But those discoveries had consequences. We used them in war; we used them in conflicts; we even used them on our own people and your discoveries killed. They killed thousands and thousands of people." He took a drag on his cigar and savoured the moment. "Ingrid was killed by a missile. A missile that used your designs, your ideas and your, if I am being complimentary, brilliance. Without you, I would never have had such a weapon. As I said, your discoveries and inventions had consequences. You supplied the weapon. You killed your wife, not me."
Agent Angel's words stung Johan, and his finger hovered dangerously over the trigger as he thought about pulling it.
"Do you know how I finally found your wife?"
Johan did not reply.
"I faked my own goddam death. I don't like to be beaten, John, and you know as well as I do that once I make up my mind about something I pursue it relentlessly until I achieve it. I was never going to let Ingrid steal from me, take my secrets, defect to my enemies and then live happily ever after. She was good. No doubt about it. She did not want to be found, and she covered her tracks like a pro. And the longer she did it, the better she became. It took me a considerable amount of manpower and resources to track her down, but I always found where she had been rather than where she was.
"We knew she had fled from what is now Russia and into Ukraine. We pursued leads in Ukraine, but they came to nothing because she had already left to Moldova. By the time we knew, she had been spotted in Romania, but then she went to Hungary. When we got to Hungary, she was in Czechoslovakia and then we lost her again as she escaped to Austria. This is where the trail went dead until I went very public with my funeral. Once I was buried six feet under, she came out of the woodwork. Not immediately but over time. She became a little less careful, once she thought the risks were less, and the world had changed. That was when I finally got her - when she was no longer on our Earth. Nobody beats me, John. Nobody! Not Ingrid and not even you."
Before Johan understood what had happened, Buddy's glass hit him on the side of the head above his right eye. A gash opened up, and blood instantly began to pour down his face. Instinctively, he brought his hands up to his forehead, and he began to see stars.
Somehow, he kept hold of the gun but as blood poured into his eyes, Buddy seized his moment. He brought his leg up quickly and kicked Johan's arm so hard that the gun dropped from the old man's hand. It clattered onto the floor and rested against Johan's ankle. Even though he couldn't see, he was aware enough to slide his foot on top of it. Buddy did not move to push his advantage. The gun had vanished, and until he knew that he was not in danger from it, he would not continue.
"That evens it out a little," Agent Angel said sinisterly. "And just remember that I will snap you like a twig when the moment presents itself. You are physically inferior, and you know it."
Johan found his handkerchief and pressed it firmly against the painful wound on his head. All he knew was that he had to keep Buddy talking. The longer they talked, the better his chances of working out what to do.
"I know you are stronger than me, Buddy, but I don't understand why," Johan said, trying to buy himself some time. "Since I came back to help with the pods, I have constantly asked myself how you can look twenty years younger than me but be the same age. How?"
"No one has ever had the balls to ask me that and even if they had I would have lied."
"You're immortal?"
Agent Angel smiled and laughed dismissively.
"The body and mind will always die, John. You're a scientist, you know that. Cells age, they wither, pick up diseases and die. We can't stop that."
"But alien technology can?"
"So close. Not alien technology but alien physiology."
"It can stop aging?" Johan asked in disbelief. The positive repercussions for Eric and Ursula were not lost on him, but he needed confirmation. Confirmation that they could live longer than the death sentence they had been given.
"No, it can't stop it but as you can see, it can restrict the effects of aging as the years pass by. And all I had to do was consume its saliva."
"That is unbelievable!" he lied.
"No. That is the future."
Agent Angel bent forward to pour himself another glass of bourbon. As he concentrated on the liquor, Johan leant down and felt under his foot for the gun. He never got to pick it up. The bottle of bourbon came flying towards him. Without thinking, he raised his arms and knocked the bottle away. It tumbled through the air, hit the floor and smashed, scattering jagged shards of glass and bourbon across the floor.
Agent Angel was instantly upon him and leapt on the chair, which tipped over. Johan was thrown painfully onto the floor as it fell, and Buddy landed next to him. The leader of the OSS got up first, removed bits of glass from his clothing and skin, and looked down at the decrepit old man.
By the time Johan's body was ready to move, it was too late. Two strong hands grabbed his bony collarbone and pulled him onto the cold stone floor. Johan looked up into Buddy's smiling face as a black blur passed before his eyes and smashed into his nose. The pain ripped through his head, and his skull crushed against the concrete. Before Buddy hit him again, he was unconscious.
Agent Angel stepped away from Johan's inert body. By his feet was Johan's gun. He kicked it to the other side of the room, sending pieces of glass skidding away as it knocked into them. He laughed dismissively and walked back to his desk, where he picked up the phone with his good arm.
"Agent Lip, we have intruders on the base. I guess they'll be Black Queen and White King. Find them and bring them to me," he hung up and selected another number. "Hoover, I was right. Schwarzkopf is behind it. We have intruders on the base. Scan your screens and find me Black Queen and White King."
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Chapter 22 - The Beached Whale
Agent Hoover tapped into the security system and began by making sure everyone was accounted for. A plan of the base flashed onto the screen and names appeared where personnel were located. Some were moving about the hangar; others were stationery below ground, but nobody was missing. He checked again, this time for any intruders. He knew that the internal security team monitored thermal images. He also knew that anyone not wearing an ID would be picked up by the thermal imaging cameras as they would have a different heat signature, but he checked anyway. He could access the whole base from his chair, except for his surveillance room that had always been off-limits. Different locations flashed before him, and none looked abnormal until he reached the hangar and the temporary lab.
The screen in front of him showed the lab as a slightly darker purple than the rest of the hangar due to the fans that kept it inflated and also kept it cooler. The crafts stored inside appeared almost black, as did all the crash debris littering the floor. They were strange shapes and different sizes, but something did not look right. He zoomed in and stared at the screen. Whatever had aroused his interest was barely noticeable to the naked eye. He changed the wavelengths of the thermal image. By doing so, he enhanced the colours and confirmed his suspicions. Three objects, each roughly the size of a person, appeared as deep, dark orange. In other words, they were warmer. There could be a number of reasons for this, but as he watched a yellow leg emerged from beneath one of the orange shapes. There was no ID visible, and no name appeared beside it. The leg disappeared back into the object.
"Jeez, that's smart," Agent Hoover said to himself and called through to the security team. "We've got at least one, possibly three intruders in the hangar lab."
"I don't see them," the Head of Internal Security replied.
"Change the wavelength and zoom in. You'll see."
Agent Hoover signed off and gazed at the lab. He couldn't help but admire the ingenuity of faking a crash and hiding in the debris. However, whoever had dared to enter the OSS b
ase, would not be leaving. A security squad were already on their way and would be at the lab in less than thirty seconds. Once they arrived, he was sure they would find Black Queen and White King, but who was the third person?
Outside the surveillance room, the base was functioning as normal. A scientist pushed a colleague down the quiet corridor. They were both dressed in protective suits, and it was difficult to see their faces. Both of them had their heads angled towards the floor, and the one in the wheelchair had his eyes closed. Inside the suits, they were both sweating. The temperature in the corridor had risen as they had moved along it. It was warmest as they passed a plain, grey door.
"Stop!" Eric hissed. "We're here." He got out of the wheelchair and stepped fearfully towards the door. "Are you ready?" The question was directed more at himself than anyone else.
Ursula nodded. "We've come this far. I want to do this; get back out again and go home. I'm tired of hiding. Let's go!"
Eric did not look or feel as confident as Ursula sounded. His memories of the last time he had been here were too recent and too painful.
"Just remember," he began, "if you feel something attacking your mind fight back. It is possible. I did it. Think of something positive. Something happy. There are two of us. We should be able to beat this thing."
"Okay."
Eric placed his hand on the metal door and pushed. Nothing happened. He tried again. The door did not move. He tried again as Ursula shoulder-barged it. There was a dull thud, but the door stayed firm. Inside, Agent Hoover was glued to his screen and watched the security squad enter the lab. He had not heard the noise and was unaware of events outside his surveillance room.
A card scanner was attached to the wall beside the door. Beside it was a mini-camera hidden behind curved glass. Eric looked at them and turned to Ursula. He shrugged his shoulders in apparent defeat, but the truth was that he was scared to enter.
"I have an idea," Ursula told him and positioned the wheelchair in front of the camera. "Sit back down."
As Eric sat, she glanced at the camera's position and then stood with her back to it.
"Can you see the camera?"
"Only a bit," Eric replied. "Just the corner. I'm not sure it can see all of me."
"That's what I want. Ready?"
Eric nodded, but she knew that he wasn't.
Ursula took the card and swiped it across the scanner. Meanwhile, Eric dropped his head completely so the camera could not see his face. They waited, but nothing happened.
"It's not working," Eric muttered under his breath.
"Swap IDs."
They quickly exchanged the cards, and she swiped the new one.
"What now?" Agent Hoover moaned angrily.
A new window had opened on his screen showing the view in the corridor and indicating that Jean Kurtz was outside. It was blocking his view of the lab, and the security squad had reached the intruders. Her timing could not have been worse. He quickly opened the door, and the window vanished from his screen as the security squad pulled the first intruder out from the debris.
Ursula stepped back and blocked the camera as Eric jumped through the doorway. A split second later, she followed. The room beyond was just as Eric had told her. A bank of screens dominated a huge wall to the right and to the left the light gradually faded to black. The door closed quietly behind them, and in front they could see a fat man sat at a computer. He held his head in his swollen hands, and his eyes were fixed on the computer on his desk. In the faint light from the screen, they could see his blotchy red face and that he was wearing a headset.
What are we going to do about him? thought Ursula.
Eric looked at her. We need to get rid of him. He can see everything, and it looks like he can contact anyone, he thought.
Ursula moved into the darkness and crept towards Hoover. Eric followed. The fat man continued to gaze at the screen in front of him. As they neared, he snapped back into his chair.
"Hold on," he said, adjusting his headset. "Say that again. Who have you caught?"
There was a pause as someone spoke through the headphones. Eric and Ursula were directly behind Hoover and could see his bulbous head shaking as he listened.
"Let me get this straight. Black Queen and White King were there, but they trapped the scientists and fled. What did Kurtz say? Did she…"
Suddenly it dawned on him. If Kurtz was still in the lab, then who had he just let in? He turned slowly to his right. There was a large, empty space leading down to the door but nothing out of the ordinary. He removed his headset hesitantly. All he could hear was the sound of the extractor fans sucking the excessive heat from the room through large metal ducts.
"Hello," Agent Hoover shouted. "Is anybody there? Kurtz?"
His voice echoed in the darkness, but nobody replied. He had no idea why he had spoken out like this. Whoever was in the room was hardly going to answer him. He considered getting out of his chair, but no sooner had the thought appeared than it vanished. A sharp and familiar pain replaced it.
"Stay in your seat," he heard himself say in his mind, and he dropped his head towards his knees, knowing that this would help the pain to pass. As he waited, he felt someone grab his chair, and it began to tilt backwards. He sat upright and inadvertently helped push himself further backwards. His hands lunged desperately for the desk, but he was already out of reach and only grasped air. The chair had now tilted too far to right itself and began to fall. Something tore from the side of his belly and caused him to scream. It was followed almost instantly by an agonizing pull from behind his knees as if his veins were being ripped from his legs. Finally, his whole body jarred as the chair hit the floor, and his head smacked hard against the concrete.
For a while, Agent Hoover lay on the floor dazed and confused. Above him were wide ventilation ducts and cables hanging from the ceiling. He had never noticed them before. Two figures came into view. They looked down at him, and as he watched them, they removed their white protective clothing.
Standing above him, were two teenagers. Weren't they characters in a dream he had been having? I know them, he thought, and slowly the names Black Queen and White King emerged from deep inside his brain.
They were dressed identically in desert fatigues and staring at him with a strange look on their faces. Agent Hoover remembered the look from his past and tried desperately to think what it was. Slowly it dawned on him - the look was of pity. They pitied him, but why? Agent Hoover didn't understand; he couldn't bear it and turned away.
Everything felt different. It was as if he had been in a dream, but he knew that his dream had been real. He sensed that this had been going on for years, somehow he knew what he had been doing, and he had memories of who he had been with. He felt distanced from this part of his life, as if none of it had taken place.
Only now did he feel he was experiencing reality, and his first thought was that there was no longer a pain his head that he could not control but which controlled him. Even so, his second thought was that reality hurt. The pain in his left side was getting worse, and he looked down at his large belly. Carefully, he pulled up his top. There was a gaping hole in his side covered by browning plasters, and two thick tubes were stretched taut as they left the inside of his body. He felt physically sick and vomited onto the ground next to himself. The pain in his side increased. With great difficulty, he turned his attention to his legs and lifted one up. He was wearing shorts and behind his knee he could see two large needles protruding from the skin. One had snapped, and there was blood dripping down his calf. He carefully brought his leg back down and groaned.
Black Queen and White King had not moved. He did not fear them, and it was plainly obvious that they did not fear him either.
"Help me," he cried, not knowing what else to say or do. His throat felt dry, and he craved a glass of water.
The boy did not move. His look of pity had turned to disdain, and he held onto the girl's arm.
"What is this place?" the boy ask
ed him sharply.
"It's my surveillance room."
"What do you watch?"
"The world."
"How?"
Agent Hoover thought before answering timidly, "I don't know. I just could. I could see everything. My mind was different. It let me search the globe."
"And what were you looking for?"
Agent Hoover looked sheepish and said nothing. The pains in his belly and leg were pulsing, and he grimaced.
"What were you looking for?" the girl asked kindly.
"Er, jeez, er, you two."
"And now we are here," sneered the boy. "You won't have to look for us ever again. And by the time we leave, I'll make sure that you won’t be able to watch us anymore."
"Please don’t hurt me," begged Agent Hoover. "I think I know what I have been doing but I couldn't help it. I think I have been under hypnosis. It's not my fault. All I remember is being sat in that chair. Please don't hurt me!"
"We're not going to hurt you," Ursula reassured.
"Then please help me. I can’t move."
Ursula pulled herself away from Eric and crouched down beside Hoover. She could sense his fear and confusion, and could smell the vomit.
"What's your name?" she asked.
"Hoover," he replied.
"And your first name?"
Agent Hoover almost said, "Agent," but stopped himself and racked his brain. What was his first name? The fact that he could not remember worried him even more and added to his general confusion. His name gradually emerged from the deepest depths of his mind, and he replied, "Bill."
"What can I do to help you, Bill?"
He pointed towards his legs and whispered, "Please can you take out the needles."