by Martin, CJ
Suteko’s right hand was in flight before her mind realized it. Catherine wasn’t expecting the slap and the rational part of Suteko’s mind didn’t have time to slow its impact. Catherine’s head slammed into the wall behind her, burying it several inches into the sheetrock.
“Catherine! I...I am so sorry.”
Both Ian and Sam were at Suteko’s side, each holding an arm an instant after the strike. Once they saw she had struck out of the heat of moment and that she was already regretting the action, they let her go and moved to tend to Catherine.
Suteko had her hands to her mouth in shock at her own actions. Catherine, however, shook her bloodied head free of the wall and, flinging her arms left and right, sent Sam and Ian a dozen feet away from her. A second later, she had Suteko on the ground and was beating her Japanese rival with her fists. She only got one good punch in before both Sam and Ian were back and restraining Catherine.
“You little bitch! You’ve wanted to do that for a hundred years, haven’t you? Tell your boyfriends to let me go and we’ll have at it! Come on!”
“What’s going on?”
It was Marcus. Behind him were the four men who had ceased coordinating and were wondering what the commotion was about.
“What does it matter, Marcus?” said Catherine who was still being held by the two confused men. “You’ll just take her side anyway! She’s bewitched all of you—it’s her gift!”
Suteko had managed to crawl back and up into the nearest chair. She had a bloody lip, but her puffy eyes showed more emotional pain than physical. She looked as if she was about to cry.
Marcus walked up to Catherine and examined the back of her head. Her thick blonde curls had blotches of dark, stained by blood, and sprinkled with the chalky sheetrock. “Catherine, do you remember when I found you?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’m grateful for your help and all that. That has nothing to do with Suteko.” She wrestled with her arms. “Let me go!”
Marcus nodded and Sam and Ian released their hold.
She walked past Marcus and marched directly to General Gordon, ignoring everyone else. “General, I wish to be escorted to my quarters immediately.”
Gordon looked up at Marcus who just nodded in the affirmative.
“If you will follow me,” General Gordon said, heading toward the elevator.
Once Catherine and the general had disappeared behind closed elevator doors, Marcus approached Ian. “Okay, what is her problem with Suteko?”
“Marcus, you know she never liked Suteko,” Ian said, averting his eyes and with a slight snarl to his lips.
“This goes beyond a dislike. Catherine knows what we are up against. Unity is our only chance for victory.”
“Listen, old man, we are the ones who came halfway across the globe to help you. Give her some slack.” Ian paused, bit his lip, and continued with a softer voice, “I’m going after her.”
Marcus watched without comment as Ian left. Vice Admiral Cunnings at the table stood and unlocked the elevator for Ian. As the doors opened, Cunnings said, “I will call to have someone meet you on the ground floor and take you to her in case you don’t catch up with them in time.” He leaned inside the elevator and, handing Ian a card, Cunnings pointed at a small red button. “Press this button to go up to ground floor. When the elevator stops, insert this card to open the doors.”
Ian’s face was hot as the doors began to close. His body was tense and he held his fists up and clenched as if he wanted to slam them into something hard. Sam was having a hard time reading his intentions, but the anger didn’t seem directed at him or Suteko. But there was anger. The elevator doors closed and Sam turned his full attention to Suteko.
“Please,” Marcus said, turning to the military men, “continue with your coordinating. It is imperative that these people are rescued as soon as possible.”
Cunnings, who had unlocked the elevator, moved back to the table and grabbed the phone.
Sam put his arm around Suteko. She still had cupped hands over her mouth. “No physical contact, huh?”
Chapter Nine
Dr. Bracker was smiling. The president liked him and even if the president naturally disagreed with his point of view, the man could easily be persuaded to see things the correct way. Today was no exception.
Entering the building, Dr. Bracker was surprised to see the doors open and one of the Temporal step out. It was Catherine, the woman from England. She had a sour look on her face and did not even acknowledge his presence. That was fine with him. She was of no consequence. Behind her was Gordon. No wonder she was upset.
“Bracker? What are you doing here?” asked General Gordon.
“I’m following the president’s orders.” He held up a hand holding a piece of paper that authorized him to stay with and give aid to the Temporal.
General Gordon said, “Give me that.”
Bracker’s smile grew wider as he watched the general’s eyes fall upon the president’s signature.
Shoving the paper back into Dr. Bracker’s chest, General Gordon said, “I don’t know what you are up to, but lives are at stake. I’m watching you.”
“No, you are not. It seems you are leaving, and I shan’t be going with you.”
The general shook his head, letting out a huff of a protest, and then nudged Catherine to continue toward the parking lot. “Let’s go.”
Dr. Bracker pressed the button and waited for the elevator. Less than a minute later, the doors opened with a chime. Dr. Bracker was about to step forward when the hurried figure of Ian appeared out of the elevator.
“Ian!”
Ian stopped. He had run past Dr. Bracker without the slightest recognition. His mind was set on Catherine whose figure he could see in the passenger seat of a car backing out of its parking space.
“Ian, do not make a hasty judgment.”
Ian clenched his fists again and turned his head back.
“Leave me alone. I can catch up with the car.”
“Of course, you can. I know of your extraordinary powers. Your strength, your speed. But what happens next? She pulls away and your harsh speech causes her to resist more.”
Ian was visibly shaking. He was upset and wasn’t quite sure where the anger should be placed. He kept his fists tight.
“I know of your love for Catherine.”
Ian looked at the small man. “What are you talking about?”
“I know the conflict within you. You care for Catherine, but fear your heart belongs to another, another who has tricked your heart into wanting her. Am I right?”
“Who told you this?”
Dr. Bracker shook his head, and walking over, he placed a gloved hand on Ian’s shoulder. Immediately, Ian relaxed his muscles. The tension from the past few hours had caused him to develop a slight headache. The simple touch by this man seemed to loosen the tension. Any remnant of a headache was gone in an instant. But it wasn’t just the relaxation of his body. Dr. Bracker’s touch also relaxed Ian’s mind. He could now think clearer, recognize truth, and filter out falsehoods. It was like when Suteko used to touch him, but better—there was no coercion, no sense of obligation to a set path.
“Your love for Catherine is evident by your eyes. That you feel compelled by Suteko, well, I saw your interaction earlier.”
Ian was silent. He didn’t like the fact a stranger knew his deepest and most personal secrets, but he needed help and somehow he knew this man could give him that help despite Ian’s first impression of Dr. Bracker as nothing more than a self-obsessed political hack.
“You’ve lived many lifetimes longer than I have, I’m sure. But I do have one experience set you do not. I’ve been married three times. I’m afraid that makes me an expert on what doesn’t work in relationships.”
Ian stood there running his hands through his hair in frustration. He wanted to go. He wanted to run after the car that was now backing out and about to take Catherine away, but he also knew this man was right.
Dr. Bracker co
ntinued, “You must understand women, Ian. They need emotional support. She needs your support and your strength. You do not approach her in anger, but with understanding—or at least a pretense of understanding. True understanding is more difficult, of course, but a pretense is enough.”
In addition to the touch, there was also something about Dr. Bracker’s stare that calmed Ian. He had been so thoroughly angry at Catherine. Or maybe it wasn’t really Catherine but just that their unspoken conflict had come to a head. Whatever she had said to Suteko had caused Suteko to be upset enough to strike. Suteko would never harm anyone—at least not physically. No. Now, looking into Dr. Bracker’s eyes, he felt...understanding and pity. Understanding that Suteko had hurt him and could hurt others. And there was also the pity that he now felt for Catherine.
“Yes, Dr. Bracker. Thank you. Of course, you are right.”
“Good. I’m glad I got to speak with you. I’d like very much to get to know you better.”
“Yes. I...I’m sorry for being an ass earlier.”
Dr. Bracker held up his left hand while his right fished his keys from a pocket. Ian suddenly felt funny. The anger he had felt earlier had disappeared and in its place there was an odd respect for the man in front of him. Ian couldn’t guess Dr. Bracker’s age if he had to. The lines around the contours of his mouth suggested mid-sixties, but his eyes...In them, Ian saw the fountain of youth.
“Think nothing of it. Now, here, take these. The GPS is set to the Berkshire House where you will be staying and where you will find Catherine. Just follow the arrows.” He lowered his voice and looked Ian squarely in the eye. “Drive slowly. Take some time to calm down so you can meet her with compassion and understanding. The other woman, Suteko, hurt you both. Accept that and then use it as common ground with Catherine.”
Ian held out the palm of his hand for Dr. Bracker to drop the keys into. “Thank you, sir, but I do not have an American license.”
Dr. Bracker waved his hand indicating it was not a problem. “The car has diplomatic plates, but on the front passenger seat, there is a business card with my name and contact information on it. Should anyone stop you, give that to the officer. Tell them you are driving under a diplomatic mandate or some such nonsense to make you sound official. I’ll take care of any repercussions.”
Ian nodded and, in a flash, he was in the car and zooming out of the parking garage.
Dr. Bracker smiled during the brief elevator ride. General Gordon was a problem, but no so much of a problem that could not be handled. Dr. Bracker had the president’s ear on most issues and while security was not one of them, his influence could be augmented in other ways. And now, there was this possibility of an ally. Events were proceeding as well as one could hope.
The door opened and he dropped the smile. He had, after all, work to do while the cat was out.
“Dr. Bracker?” Marcus said as he saw the well-dressed gentleman emerge from the elevator.
“Yes, it seems the president would prefer that I am here.”
“I see.” Marcus nodded and then turned back to the console in front of him.
“Marcus, have all transports been sent to evacuate the Temporal?”
“How did you…” Marcus had a mixture of confusion and worry painted on his face.
“I met General Gordon downstairs. After seeing my authorization from the president, he filled me in. I came to see if I could be of any assistance. I understand, of course, very little and, while I do not have the military sources of the general, virtually all diplomatic channels are open to me. I could make travel to the airports more secure.”
Marcus was dumbfounded. He was certain of General Gordon’s tight lip. Even with authority from the president, Marcus was highly surprised by the general’s talkativeness. He had seemed so reticent and untrusting of Bracker, and Sam had read no guile in the general nor had Gordon given any indication that he was anything but one hundred percent behind the mission.
“Dr. Bracker, I certainly do not wish to seem overly suspicious, but may I see the president’s orders?”
“Certainly and don’t think anything of asking. This is a most sensitive matter, and I can assure you I will do nothing to betray your trust,” he said while pulling an envelope from his inner breast pocket.
Upon opening, Marcus saw the seal of the President of the United States. Although, he had no experience in authenticating documents of this nature, it certainly did look official. And the signature matched his memory of the president’s.
“Of course,” said Dr. Bracker as an afterthought, “if you would like to call the president, I have a direct line on my cell. It would be no problem. I should be able to catch him shortly between scheduling.”
“No, no, of course not. This is fine. Please, Dr. Bracker, have a seat. And your offer of help is greatly appreciated. However, I believe we have things under control.” Marcus hadn’t noticed it before, but there was something strikingly familiar about Dr. Bracker’s eyes. Something familiar, yet distant.
“Then...the birds are in the air, as it were?”
“There are a few that we have not been able to contact. But as for the rest of them, everything is on schedule. Sam and Suteko are in the refreshment room now. Please, why don’t you join them and relax? I shall, of course, notify you the moment anything comes in.”
“If you don’t mind I would like to talk to Admiral Hartling first. Then, I will need to report to the president. I can do that from the refreshment room.”
Marcus nodded and turned back to the other man. Dr. Bracker walked over to the admiral. Admiral Hartling had observed the back and forth and his face took on a distinctly sour look. It was obvious to Marcus that they knew each other, but it was equally obvious that, like the general, the admiral did not much care for Dr. Bracker.
“Admiral, it has been too long.”
“Where’s the general? What have you done?”
“What? You speak as if I had just murdered him and I am trying to hide the body,” he said with a chuckle. “I assure you he is alive and well. At least he was about two minutes ago. I just saw him downstairs escorting Miss Catherine Porras to her lodgings.”
“What is it that you want?” His face turned back to the screen. The monitor had the default screensaver, an animated Chief of Staff logo. Upon seeing Dr. Bracker, the admiral had locked his screen, not wanting to take chances. After asking the question, he turned back to the front and pretended to do something on the screen without actually returning to the information.
“Nothing. I was just hoping for a status update.”
Dr. Bracker was standing behind him, not moving.
“You know I don’t have the authority to give you that information.”
The admiral looked down at his screen. The corners of the monitor blurred as if a powerful magnet was too close to an old CRT monitor. The spinning logo pixelated slightly as lines appeared and disappeared on the screen. Admiral Hartling hit the desk hoping a Fonzie touch would help. The sound seemed to have startled Dr. Bracker, who took a step back. The screen instantly cleared up, invoking a nearly silent “Ayyh!” from the admiral. His smile, however, quickly faded as he realized Dr. Bracker was still there and watching his actions.
“Well then, I’m sorry to have bothered you.” Dr. Bracker’s voice sounded tired or distracted as if he was contemplating something deep.
“If you don’t mind I have work to do.” The admiral was tired of playing games and the next checkin was due within five minutes.
Dr. Bracker bowed slightly and walked around the desk. Admiral Hartling watched him walk into the waiting room before tapping the screen and entering his password.
Chapter Ten
Kaileen was not pleased. Her Nephloc spy was taking far too long to report. It had been charged with befriending the Temporal and then discovering the flight plans or general locations of the rescue attempts.
That’s what her master wanted; she wanted Samuel.
He would be helpful with le
ading her to any Temporal remnant, yes, but that was secondary. She believed he also had the potential within him to destroy her master.
Her master Arthimas once told her of the only thing that he feared. An ancient prophecy spoke of a man who would one day destroy the original three Temporal, her master being one of them. While Arthimas had been drunk and had only mentioned the prophecy that one time, the fear in his eyes indicated that he believed it wholeheartedly. By her calculations and intuitions, Sam could very well be the one. Freedom from her master’s grip was what she wanted more than anything.
At this point, the total lack of communication by now indicated the Nephloc’s mission had failed or else it had betrayed her by running away. She’d taken a chance and gambled on this one. It had abandoned its comrades and dared to return to her with a report on their failure. With the proper incentives in place, she had felt sure the spy would do all in its power to succeed for fear of displeasing her a second time.
Where is my general? She had called for her general, Carritos, over twenty minutes ago. She smelled insubordination, a most unsavory aroma—a vice that needed correction. She could tolerate a certain amount of failure provided the source of that failure was sufficiently humble before her. Her spy had failed, but submitted fully to her judgment. Her general had failed to kill the Temporal when given ample opportunity; he had not shown a similar wisdom. Having been a former Temporal, Carritos exercised far more freedom of thought and action than was wise.
Based on the information she had earlier gleaned from Samuel, she had General Carritos dispatch several teams of Perazim in groups of four to kill the Temporal in their homes. Other than terminating five Temporal before their plot was discovered, the assassins had lost their prey. This was the general’s failure, and he had yet to explain himself. Now, the Temporal had been warned and were scattering. She needed the locations of the airports the fleeing Temporal would be using.