Time Eternal

by Lily Worthington

  As cliché as it was, that moment changed his life, Elizabeth’s life, his family, and his countrymen’s lives. Rei had never expected to find love during those bloody years, defending his father’s empire, but the Fates had other plans for him. They thrust him to his soul mate. He thought he and Elizabeth would live happily ever after because their love was so strong. Yet again, Fate had other plans for them.

  “Sir.”

  Elizabeth’s face faded away. It took him a moment to step out of his past, his memory, and his grief. Rei closed his eyes and took in another deep breath before answering, “Yes, Herbert.”

  “There is a telephone call for you, sir,” his butler informed him.

  “Who is it?”

  “Mr. X, sir.”

  Rei scowled at the name before turning back to his study through the glass door on the left side of the balcony. “Yes.” Keeping his tone bland, he spoke into the black candlestick telephone while holding the cone-shaped earpiece to his ear. He had been steadily losing his patience with his once-convenient alliance with the elusive warlord. X’s agenda was bigger than mere silver or gold, land or power. X’s actions often countered the will of the gods whom Rei served. One of the reasons Rei had allowed their alliance to continue was because he was intrigued by X’s audacity to take on the deities—something very brave, yet very stupid at the same time.

  “Ah, Rei, since you are answering the phone, I assume your business at the bank was concluded without any problem.” Rei knew what X meant. For some reason, X was showing uncharacteristic impatience about getting his hands on the steel box. He could tell from the insistent, anxious tone in X’s voice.

  “Yes, it was. My men will deliver it to the agreed location tonight.”

  “Excellent. The information you seek will be in an envelope for you.” X sounded relieved. Very odd indeed.

  There was a long silence. Rei was about to hang up the phone when X spoke. “How much is it worth to you for information that would lead you to the young lady you’ve been looking for?”

  Rei’s hands gripped both the telephone pieces with such force that he could feel the wooden materials began to crack. “Come again?”

  Silence. X’s MO. Rei swore that man had the patience of a saint, except X was no saint at all.

  How did X know he’d been looking for Elizabeth? The pieces of information he had been trading with X were no more than pieces of information. It was impossible for anyone to know what or who Rei had been looking for. Not even his men knew about it, except Sloan. Rei didn’t like where the conversation was heading. The best defense was a good offense. He must make sure X knew the boundaries of their alliance.

  “You’d do well to mind your own business, X. I am not someone you want to cross. The next time you stick your nose in my business, our relationship will cease, and we will be enemies. Trust me, you don’t want that.” Rei hung up the phone without waiting for X to reply.

  He looked up at the full-size portrait hung on the wall across his study above the liquor cabinet. “Elizabeth,” he called out her name softly, like the million times he had done before. He felt almost as if he called out for her enough times, he could summon her back to him.

  Chapter Three

  It took the system precisely three seconds to confirm Skyla’s identity and her access privilege. A pleasant gender-neutral voice announced her credentials: “Agent Skyla Gray. Team Mu. Level 5 access cleared.” The same information was simultaneously sent to the director’s office, part of the multi-layer security and verification system. Besides the director’s office, TSCAA Central Command was also on Level 5. All operations were monitored and communicated through Central Command. It was the equivalent of StratComm for the Pentagon. Only a few specialists, along with currently mission-active agents, were allowed access to Level 5.

  Skyla sprinted through the titanium double doors and down the steel-gray hallway, heading straight into the waiting area of Director Laura Chin-Jensen’s office. As expected, she came to a screeching halt right outside of the door. Curtis, a.k.a. the Bulldog, stood in front of her. She knew bypassing the director’s tenacious pain-in-the-ass assistant would be nearly impossible, but what had just happened back in 1933, and the way she had been sent back to the present time, was too important to waste time playing nice with the impeccably dressed guard dog.

  Keeping her composure, Skyla gritted out her impatience. “Get out of my way, Curtis, unless you want some holes in your fancy sweater.” Of course the Bulldog didn’t budge. He just lifted his brow at her and gave her a “Are you out of your mind?” look. That’s why they’d nicknamed him Bulldog.

  She had to strike where it would hurt most. So she causally said, “The new fall line from Marc Jacob?” She reached toward him to rub the buttery-soft material of his sweater. “Very nice and…very expensive.”

  "Skyla, you know the rule. The director’s office hours have not started yet.” Curtis brushed off her hand, effectively dismissing her threat as if she were a harmless insect, before he walked back to his desk.

  She narrowed her eyes at him, like a lioness tracking her prey before pouncing at any moment. No time to waste. Skyla mentally weighed how much damage she could inflict on him without getting herself into serious trouble with the director.

  Normally, Skyla would’ve made some sarcastic, clever comment as a retort to his arrogance, but she also saw the small red bar lit up on top of the director’s office door. It didn’t happen often, so something important must be going on behind the door. Nevertheless, she knew in her bones something far worse was happening in the past—something that would unravel the world as they knew it in the present. And for some unexplainable reason, she knew she was the key to this impending disaster. The thought of that made her heart race and her palms clammy. It was almost as if she was having one of the many black nightmares she had when she was a teenager, except she was wide awake.

  “Curtis, this is urgent. Let me see the director or—do you remember the dart games we had at Pigs ’n Whistle last week? If I’m a dead shot with the darts, imagine what I can do with knives.” She’d pulled two knives from her utility belt, and they were already flipping in her hands as she smiled at him smugly.

  She was pleased to see Curtis’s back stiffen a little even though his expression and tone of voice remained placid.

  He turned to her, and his turquoise-blue gaze flashed with irritation. “No can do. You can threaten me all you want, Skyla Gray, but the president and the Homeland Security director have just called in for Laura unexpectedly. Whatever urgent matter you have, you just have to wait because apparently the big boys have something more urgent going on. And interrupting them is out of the question.” He was already turning back to his computer before finishing his sentence. “Take a seat. I’ll let Laura know you’re here as soon as the call is over.”

  Skyla mentally counted to ten, her fingers itching to throw the knives at his sweater sleeves, pinning him to the desk. Instead, she huffed out, “Fine.”

  The sitting area of the director’s office was decorated with clean lines and a minimalistic sofa—black, rectangular, leather. The walls were painted stark white with only a few photos—the president, the director of Homeland Security, and the famous black-and-white photo of Iwo Jima, with soldiers raising the American flag. The floor was inlaid with antique cherry wood and covered by modern rugs in different geometrical patterns.

  When she sat on one of the sofas, her backside immediately protested. Too firm, too much support. It lacked the comfort of a well-worn, cushy sofa. Groaning inwardly, Skyla focused on clearing her mind so that she wouldn’t be fussing around, futilely looking for a more comfortable position. She steered her mind to isolating any events in her past that might have caused her absolutely irrational reaction to, and out-of-the-blue recognition of, the man inside the bank vault. But nothing. She had no memory of ever coming across the man in the vault. And the most annoying part of this encounter was not her recognition of his voice but her body
yielding to him when he trapped her from behind. His iron hold was meant to immobilize and intimidate her, yet her body reacted as if it were a lover’s caress. Not that she had that much experience of lover’s caresses; the only guy she had seriously dated was Knox, when they were in college, and they had never gone past second base. Inside the vault, her agent’s mind was screaming, “Danger!” but her body just softened against her captor’s well-honed body. It felt so right. It felt safe. It felt like they had embraced in such intimate positions many times before.

  What’s going on with me? Who is he?

  With a frustrated sigh, she walked to the bank of televisions on the wall opposite the director’s office door and Curtis’s desk. They were showing different news channels from around the world. TSCCA was actually part of the Homeland Security department, but because it used unconventional and highly secretive technology, its official cover was doing geological research for the Department of Interior. Anyone who had been inside TSCCA headquarters would know it had nothing to do with geological research. High-tech research equipment, yes. Geological studies, no. In fact, headquarters was a fortified stronghold with the most advanced defensive system available, including a cache of weapons that could have been used to defend a small country.

  Without really watching any of the news channels, Skyla asked quietly, “Curtis, have you ever felt you knew a person from a long time ago, but you’re sure you’ve never seen them before?”

  A rather long moment passed before she heard his nonchalant reply, “No, I have not. Maybe you’re just tired from traveling through time.” Another pause and she heard a rapid string of typing. Before she could make much of it, Curtis continued.

  “Maybe you should go see Knox for a full checkup. I’ve just read the incident report from Vivienne. You didn’t come back through our protocol channel.” Curtis’s cold, analytical tone pulled Skyla from her momentary uncertainty. She hated those kinds of feelings. After the car crash, she’d had an intense need not to feel vulnerable or helpless ever again. That’s why she’d joined ROTC during college and then the Secret Service afterward.

  “I will, but not before I speak with the director.” The director’s office door hissed open at that moment. A familiar figure walked past the door. The director was a medium-height, slimly built woman of Asian descent. Her translucent complexion was enhanced by her chin-length, jet-black hair. As usual, the director was dressed in a form-fitting skirt suit in a neutral color and a pair of killer heels. Skyla had always admired the director’s wardrobe. Today, the director wore a pair of soft pink patent leather peek-a-boo stilettos with her pale bluish-gray suit. A pair of pearl stud earrings and a matching strand of pearls were the only accessories she wore. Frankly, the director looked more like a senator’s trophy wife about to host a high-society luncheon in D.C. than the founder and first commander of an experimental counterterrorism government unit.

  “Skyla, come in. Curtis said you have something urgent to report.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Skyla was relieved she was finally walking past the Bulldog’s desk and into the director’s office.

  Inside the office, the director had coordinated an efficient glass-top desk with a floor-to-ceiling tropical fish tank behind her. One wall was lined with computer monitors showing various ops teams from different government agencies on missions around the globe. The other wall was lined with TVs showing different news channels, just like the ones in the waiting area.

  “Director.” Before she started to report her encounter inside the bank, the director pulled her into a tight, affectionate embrace.

  “I’m glad you’re all right. I read the incident report from Vivienne. You should’ve let Knox check you out first.” Giving her another tight hug, the director went on. “And how many times have I told you to call me Laura when it’s just us? Most people in the Agency already know we’re related by marriage. There’s no need for the formality when we’re behind closed doors.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Skyla always felt the need for formality between her and the director, even though the director had treated her like a daughter since the day Skyla had woken up in the hospital, three months after the car crash. Their families saw each other often even after her uncle, her mother’s younger brother, went missing in action just over ten years ago in Afghanistan during one of the government’s secret ops.

  A more intense look now lined the director’s otherwise flawless face. Under her aunt’s sophisticated beauty, there was a ruthless commander who had not only kept critics within the government at bay, especially during the Agency’s early years, but was always as protective of her agents as if they were her children. She had handpicked every one of them. She knew each agent and their strengths and weaknesses. Each time any of them got hurt, or worse, died in the line of duty, the director took the loss and regrets all the way to her soul.

  “Tell me why you feel you knew the man inside the vault.” The director looked straight into her eyes, as if she were searching for something hidden. It made her feel a bit unsettled, the same way she had felt when she first woke up from her coma and there was Aunt Laura, the first person she saw.

  Skyla steadied her voice. “I can’t say. There was just this doomsday feeling I got from the figure inside the bank vault.” She paused briefly, trying to clear the weariness she had been feeling ever since the encounter. “It was as if we knew each other from a long time ago. Aunt Laura, do you think I met him before the car crash?”

  Instead of answering her question, her aunt spoke in her commander tone. “Go see Knox for a full checkup and ask him to send his report to Curtis directly. Then take the rest of today and tomorrow off. I’ll brief the Homeland Security director on this.”

  For a split second, Skyla could have sworn she saw fear on her aunt’s face. But it came and went so quickly that she decided she was probably just hypersensitive from not using the Agency’s protocol coming back through time. She gave her aunt a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about me. My body will adjust. We have no time to waste. We have to put a team together now and go back. I can feel something huge is happening, and it will alter our present.”

  Her aunt looked at her, searching for something. After a few long moments, she asked, “And what do we do when the team travels back? You said the steel box has been secured by the unknown person or entity. We do not know who or what he is. We have no information as to the whereabouts of him or the box.”

  The director walked to the sideboard next to the conference table. She traced a finger on a silver picture frame, the only personal item in her office. It was of her late husband Johan, Skyla’s uncle. “Whatever the threat, now or in the past, it can wait. All this can wait, Skyla. Trust me.”

  Without further ado, the director waved her toward the door. Reluctantly, she got up and walked out of the office.

  “Skyla.”

  Turning her head back, she saw her aunt still standing in front of the picture frame. “Yes, ma’am?”

  “Remember, your parents and I love you very much, even though when you first woke up you didn’t recognize any of us. We did not expect you to come through after the crash and the coma, but you did. A second chance at life is a rare gift.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Although her aunt’s comment seemed cryptic, Skyla knew full well how lucky she was to have survived the near-fatal ordeal. Not only had she survived, her family had been there for her day and night, helping her reintegrate back into her former life, a life she had no memory of. When she first woke up, she spoke fluent Italian on top of English. But her English was archaic. The esteemed medical team put together by her aunt and her parents opined that her unusual linguistic condition was a result of her head trauma from the car crash. She was also told that she’d had incredible scholastic aptitude since she was a toddler. That explained how her speech patterns were virtually normalized within a year, even though occasionally her brain would still think in Italian instead of English. At the time, she had thought of it as a cool side e
ffect from her severe injuries.

  Heading out of the director’s office suite, Skyla noticed Curtis was being unusually quiet. Normally after anyone barged into his boss’s office, he would give the person a not-so-subtle dressing down, reminding them that making appointments with the director in advance was a rule, not a request. But now he was just sitting in front of his computer looking entirely absorbed by whatever he was reading on his computer screen.

  Well, maybe the Bulldog has finally given up on us mere mortals. With that thought, she headed down to Knox’s office on the third level.

  Chapter Four

  Breaking and entering into TSCAA headquarters was as easy as breathing to Rei. He was standing in a sterilized hallway just seconds after his mind thought of the location he needed. Because of his bargain with the gods, he could travel to any time period as he wished, as long as the gods deemed it necessary for him to do their bidding. And for some reason, leaping through time almost a century ahead fit into the scheme his masters and mistresses had in mind.

  At the Last Battle, he had made a bargain with the gods. He would raise an army to do their bidding in exchange for immortality to find Elizabeth again. That was over five centuries ago. He and his men, all fallen soldiers like himself, had fought against great evils, but at times they were also sent to aid evils.

  It was rather odd that the gods allowed him and his men to come to the twenty-first century when their current mission was confined to the 1930s. Rei didn’t think too much of it. He had a mild curiosity, yes, but his main objective remained the same—find Elizabeth. Was the female agent, Skyla Gray, truly his Elizabeth? His mind flashed back to the past…