The worry showed in his eyes. “I see,” she replied with a wavering voice.
They sat across from one another pondering their newfound situation, while the wind whipped through the window. It seemed to have kept pace with the increasing intensity of the room.
* * * * *
Chapter 6: A Fight for Power
Caesar Leodenin stood in the same shadowed alleyway Madelin used to slip away less than an hour earlier. A slight breeze caught the edge of his classic black duster, twisting it behind him and revealing the Roman collar encircling his neck. It stood out in stark contrast with the rest of his black attire. His eyes were locked on the brick wall where they said she shifted from.
It looked to the men standing around him like the rest of the brick building, but Leodenin was searching for something quite different. He could see the shimmering spider webs that were the outlines of buildings on other planes. This was not difficult. Everywhere he looked, alternate planes superimposed themselves on his reality. The difficulty lay in finding which of the fluorescent lines Madelin had chosen. Each color represented another reality, and whenever a rip was made, it left an indelible glimmer of memory under layers of thin scar tissue. But which was hers?
Lifting his hand, his fingers marched across the bare brick wall, caressing each line under the indiscernible scar. His forefinger tasted the connection to the world and the people close to it. Father Leodenin, as he was known to the soldiers around him, was searching for a familiar aura print. Eventually his calloused finger settled on a deep crimson line. He felt the familiar taint of the woman he had been studying, along with something else.
What is this? he wondered. It’s odd, like nothing I’ve encountered.
The men around him stood poised for action. When his movement stopped, a gruff voice spoke up. “Did you find her Father?”
Dismissing the feeling, Leodenin subdued his rising anger at the man’s interruption. Without glancing at the mission commander also tasked with finding Madelin, he replied in a soft but patronizing voice, one a father might use with an unruly child. “I’ve supervised a large part of Madelin’s training over the last eight years and at various stages of retraining. She’s been difficult to educate, but the recent wipe, and those we administered previously can’t change her fingerprint.”
Martin hated this tone with a passion, especially when directed at him; a man twenty years his senior. He saw the fake father as a long haired know-it-all, and expected him to get them killed on this mission. He had spent more than a decade working in this government division, but that did not matter. The ranking officials who decided to incorporate Leodenin into their retrieval team did not care for his opinion. Even though Marlin was a veteran who had time and again proven his loyalty to the department, his vote was far outweighed by those wearing white lab coats.
Dismissing the condescending tone, Marlin Liyolla replied, “So can you get us to her?”
Father Leodenin’s crystal blue eyes peered out from under thin black eyebrows, their hard stare shifting to Marlin. “Of course I can. If I couldn’t, then why the hell would I have come?”
The stress of the mission was getting to Leodenin. Marlin stared back at the slender, pale faced man without reaction. “So what do you want us to do?” he asked, peering around at the men fiddling with their holstered pistols. Watching something they could neither see nor understand was unnerving. They were probably wondering whether Leodenin could accomplish the task. It was a question that had also sprung up in his mind.
Leodenin replied vacantly, “Just wait.”
The mission commander voiced further concern, but Leodenin heard none of it. Turning back to the crimson thread of choice, he laughed at the thought of going to a more primitive reality and the reactions they would get. This thread led to a mirror world; one that felt as though it had accumulated a layer of dust.
Had Madelin considered the implications of her choice? he wondered. I doubt her skill has advanced to that point, but how has she gotten this far?
The questions were piling up. Pushing them aside, he turned his attention back to the glistening string. Focusing on it and the surrounding brick wall, he searched for what he knew would appear. Time lost its meaning and an image grew out of the wall. It was one he had come to know well over the last dozen years. Leodenin stopped scanning the bricks and watched the approaching figure.
The head of a black stallion soon pulled away from the wall, its legs running through red-brick-depths. It stood glistening black as night, but miniature at four inches tall. A regal white diamond blessed its forehead. Defying gravity, it stood erect on the wall and stomped an impatient foot. Its eyes watched Father Leodenin’s finger, awaiting his next order.
The sides of Leodenin’s mouth climbed upward in a smile at the sight of the elegant steed. Placing his finger at the top of the threaded scar, he traced along its center. The horse’s eyes followed, its head moving in tandem as his hand drew out the desired path. After the Father’s intentions became clear, the miniature stallion broke into a long striding dash up the brick wall. It went to the very point the priest had indicated and followed the path he traced down. With each step, the galloping steed lifted the lip of a newly formed tear, allowing it to flutter in the wind from both worlds. Once the miniature horse reached the end, its solid black eyes found Leodenin’s. Then it reared back in acknowledgement of the completed task and dove into the walled reality of this world, speeding into obscurity.
Leodenin held in his laughter. It was like this every time. The stallion had never failed to show when called. The skeptical soldiers around him chuckled at the comical look that now consumed his face, but their laughter soon changed to astonishment as he stepped back. The operatives gawked at the rift.
The tear quivered with the wind currents, and as it grew a vague world appeared in front of them. A dusty, sun-worn building stood behind roman columns and a long flight of stairs. Watching Father Leodenin create the portal left Commander Marlin questioning the courage of his men, and himself.
Tapping the small microphone at his ear, Leodenin announced their success. “Captain we’ve made contact with the plane the patient escaped to.”
A small voice spoke back as the others stood in wait. “Good, Father you have a green light to shift.” Leodenin turned to the others and nodded at the window, signaling them to move in.
Marlin had watched Leodenin do this before but never had he been ordered to step into the other plane. He swallowed his fear and barked orders to his operatives. They responded according to their training. He smiled, thankful for the time he spent assembling the most capable operatives the department had to offer. Now it was time to put their training to the test.
They formed two single-file lines, and the eight men followed Marlin over the lower lip of the tear. They were careful not to touch it for fear of suspected dangers. Rumors had circulated; speculation that the edges would sever whatever they touched. No one wished to test the accuracy of the rumors. Father Leodenin watched with a chuckle. He had heard the rumors, too.
People always fear what they don’t understand. The chances of someone getting cut by a portal are practically nonexistent. Besides, the only thing these windows can hurt is organic life unlucky enough to be standing where one is made. Leodenin shook his head, then followed the last man.
Marlin crossed into the sunlit yard, and the columned building loomed over him like a force of nature. Stepping aside, he allowed his men to pass by. He scanned their surroundings and found that the people of this world were not too dissimilar from his own, but dressed in suits and styles reminiscent of twenty years past. The residents gave Marlin and his men a wide birth. Seeing the remaining agents peering through the floating window, some took off running. After Father Leodenin stepped through, he turned and ran what Marlin called, his ‘magic finger’, along the rip, sealing it like it had never been. Only someone with Leodenin’s capabilities would see the temporary scar left by the gateway.
Ta
pping the microphone again, Leodenin waited. A minute passed with no response. He tried again but static was all that replied. He plucked the device from his ear and disposed of it in a pocket. Then, he turned to the others with a hint of a smile playing across his lips. “Looks like we’re on our own, boys.”
Now, I’ll be the one calling the shots, he thought with pleasure.
While the group huddled in the yard, sirens blared in the distance. Commander Marlin looked at the tall man, who nodded in silent agreement. It was time to leave but where would they go? Leodenin scanned the ground for some clue to where the escaped patient had gone.
It did not take long to spot the congealed blood of her small footprints. They led across the rock-lined yard and onto the paved sidewalk. In no time, the group adapted to the new world and followed their commander’s lead. As they proceeded, Marlin pulled out an electronic device and a look of confusion creased his brow.
The long-haired father stopped mid-step. The flow of traffic avoided them, detouring across the street and around the group. His eyes were locked on the vacant sidewalk. Two bloody prints were visible below, barely a foot apart. One continued in the direction they were heading, while the other passed opposite it. Marlin tapped his screen when he saw the prints.
“That’s what I thought,” he commented. “I told ya we needed the GPS. She’s back the other way.”
Glancing over, Leodenin replied with irritation, “Yes, I realize. Why the hell do you think I stopped?”
The youthful shifter turned around and doubled his pace, following the new set of prints. The repetitive police sirens were growing louder.
We’ve got to get out of sight before the authorities arrive, thought Leodenin.
Marlin and his men followed on his heels, but said nothing. The commander kept his eyes on the handheld device, in case their prey fled.
“What, nothing left to say?” asked Father Leodenin with a grin. As they advanced down the sidewalk, the pedestrians ahead leapt out of their way.
Marlin snorted. “Like I said, it’s this way. You’re goin' the right way now, so there ain’t no need to say nothin' more.” His men knew he lacked the patience to deal with someone so egotistical, but fearing his wrath they hid their smiles.
The father ignored the angry tone, replying, “See, you just gotta trust me. No need for the electronics. How do we even know the scanner’s working properly?”
Pushing aside his anger, Marlin’s voice drifted. “It ain’t a matter of trust, only a guarantee that we’ll find her ASAP.”
“Not if it isn’t working,” concluded the white collared man, a slight quirk lifting his lips. He loved being right.
Glances followed them as they kept to Leodenin’s stiff pace. Leaving sight of the courthouse, they found their way to a group of men seated on buckets and dressed as though showers were a luxury. Their jovial conversation died away at the operatives’ appearance, and they watched as the odd agents jogged past. Once out of sight, the unintelligible conversation picked back up.
Sirens sounded behind them as the police arrived at the scene, but none followed. It occurred to Leodenin that it would not help to get caught up in the legal system of an alternate world.
Just to be safe, he picked up the pace once again. Their hunt came to an abrupt end upon reaching the entrance to a small brick building. An assortment of shoes stared back at him from the storefront.
This must have been her first stop, thought Leodenin as he put the puzzle pieces together.
He signaled for Commander Marlin to wait outside with the men and stepped into the store, the tail of his coat trailing after him. The sweltering heat had drenched the men in sweat and the choice of black clothes over their bullet-proof vests was becoming more than the normal hindrance. But Marlin gave no order to disrobe. He stood staring through the window at Father Leodenin, watching the interaction.
A small bell chimed announcing the arrival of the pale, crystal eyed Father. Stepping into the shoe store, he searched the floor for signs of her passing. Although the carpet inside was dark, blood would still have shown in the well lit room. To his disappointment, he saw none. Instead, a dark skinned man looked up from the counter where he stood lacing a canvas shoe.
The older gentleman sized the tall stranger up in a glance and said in an aging Spanish accent, “Hello, may I help you, Padre?” His eyes were still considering the dark haired man when, with a wave of his hand he said, “We have whatever you want.” He pointed at dozens of shoe boxes stacked along the wall.
There was a pause for consideration, his tanned lips pressed tight in thought. “A man in need of boots … Yes, good solid boots. I have just what you need. Come in, come in.” He stepped down the narrow aisle and found what he was looking for. Pointing at a section of wall, he said, “There! Right there you are.”
Father Leodenin stepped further inside and let the door shut on its own. Then, in a phony attempt at kindness, he interrupted the old man’s sales pitch. “Excuse me, but I’m looking for a young foreigner. She was wearing a white gown. Have you seen her?” His artificial attempt at sincerity was almost passable.
The store clerk furrowed his bushy brows in thought. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you be in need of shoes. Those duds you’re wearing look a bit worn,” he replied, nodding at the matching black hiking boots on Leodenin’s feet. “Where’d you get those? They don’t look like any I sell.”
“Sir, please,” Leodenin tried again. “Have you seen her?” He continued his feigned attempt at concern, but the strain on his patience was evident in his voice.
The shopkeeper glanced down at his own shoes and tapped his head in thought. “My memory isn’t what it once was…,” Giving up, he countered, “What you need her for anyway?” This side of the city was not known for its hospitality, especially to strangers. Even here, while respected, a Priest was still an outsider.
Leodenin’s voice grew in volume as his composure cracked. Any man that spent two minutes with the shifter knew that his patience was paper thin. Tolerance was not a virtue he possessed.
“I believe you know who I’m talking about. Her bloody footprints lead right to your doorstep.” His hands flexed into fists as he spoke. His knuckles popped as his eyes drilled into the salesman with a look that would make mountains quake.
To Leodenin’s annoyance, the stubborn shopkeeper stared back as though he had not heard. One hand scratched at his short rugged beard while the other drifted under the counter, finding his personal pump action line of defense. His eyes drifted to the left and right, delving deeper in thought and his voice was firm in its response. “I don’t know of this woman you speak of, but I think you should go before I call de policia.”
Leodenin’s voice now blazed with the flames of hell and his eyes held the dreams of a demon, promising every torturous notion known to man. Thoughts of various planes he had opened in practice sessions raced through his mind with relish; places of utter horror where bloodshed and suffering were daily occurrences. Leodenin had familiarized himself with a few that piqued his interest.
Leodenin picked a particularly gruesome one and thought to himself, Yes, that’s just where he deserves. It would be a wonderful place to send this joker.
“To hell with the police, old man!” he spat. “Spare me the attitude, and tell me what I want to know.”
To his astonishment, the old man held his resolve and stared back unperturbed until the bell announced Marlin’s entrance. Stepping up to PASTOR’s prized bull, Marlin placed a firm hand on Leodenin’s arm. He could fill the adrenaline trekking through the Father’s veins as he stood, hands clenched, like a child who did not get his way.
They would have to update their training to include social aptitude and communication, Marlin thought with a mental chuckle. Then, his past experience selling cars on his brother’s lot kicked in. He threw a smile at the wizened store clerk, one that would gain the trust of the most frugal customer.
“Don’t mind him. He’s just a little di
straught over his missing sister.” The tension eased from Leodenin’s arm as Marlin attempted a more subtle tact.
“Oh,” said the bearded man, “so that’s how it is. Come to think of it, they do look a lot alike.” The man’s newfound smile did not fool Marlin. He could see the speck of distrust lingering in the shop owner’s dark eyes.
“Did you see where she went?” Marlin asked.
The old storekeeper shook his head. “Sorry, no. I wasn’t paying attention. It’s a shame she went and got lost, but feel free to stop by another time if you find that you be needing some shoes.”
With that, the Spanish clerk dismissed them and turned his attention back to the countertop. He lifted the unlaced shoe with his free hand and admired it. Marlin guessed the location of the other. The man was quite believable but instinct told him otherwise. He had known people like this throughout his life; men and women that seemed as meek as kittens, but were always ready to strike like a viper.
He turned to Father Leodenin and guided him to the door. He could feel the old man’s eyes on them until he escorted Leodenin out of the building. This was a man of experience and courage, one to be respected in his own right. Leaving the unyielding man’s view, their entourage fell in step behind them.
Marlin chimed in, a breath louder than before, “Give it a rest, Leo. We know where she is.” He pulled the small gadget out of his shirt pocket and continued down the walk.
Father Leodenin walked alongside, hands shoved deep in his pockets as though searching for something hidden for ages. He hated being called Leo, especially by the man who just got him out of a jam.
This is proving more difficult than I expected. Damn electronics!
Marlin remained glued to the machine as they distanced themselves from the sirens. He was so focused that he almost took out three light poles. Leodenin held his tongue, preferring to watch, but his ploy was foiled as one of the operatives steered the Marlin clear.
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