Release The Dogs of War (The Kurtherian Gambit Book 10)

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Release The Dogs of War (The Kurtherian Gambit Book 10) Page 11

by Michael Anderle


  ADAM, fix the security on this apartment and the video for the building as well.

  >>Yes, Bethany Anne.<<

  She reached out to grab Barnabas and the two of them were gone.

  Hollywood, California - USA

  “How did you get us in here?” Marcus asked Gabrielle as the two of them sat down at one of the tables in the Grill on the Alley. The restaurant was decorated in the classic bistro style with a black-and-white tiled floor, mahogany chairs, and partitions.

  “Mind-voodoo,” Gabrielle answered as she took a sip of her water.

  “Really?” Marcus asked, looking around to see if anyone was looking.

  “Well, that and a hundred-dollar bill,” she answered smiling. “I always have another reason if I can give it. The money helps anchor the request to give us preferential treatment. Well, at least for me it does, someone like Bethany Anne or the two brothers could do it just fine without something like that, I imagine.”

  “I see, that’s fascinating,” Marcus answered, “I hope you find something you like here.”

  The two of them picked up the menu’s and perused the choices, “I’ll start with the crab cake and move on from there. What are you thinking?” she asked.

  “I’m thinking shrimp cocktail and the filet mignon,” he replied. “It’s still dinner for me, regardless what time it is here.” He turned towards Gabrielle. “I really am sorry. I should have paid attention to the local situation in France.”

  Gabrielle shook her head, “Don’t worry about it. I’m happy to step away from everything for a little while. It was very sweet of you to ask me out.” She took another sip from her glass, “So, was it a bet or a dare?”

  Marcus blushed, “That obvious?”

  She chuckled throatily, “A little. I can hear your heartbeat you know.”

  Marcus seemed to stop for a second before resuming his motion, “No, I hadn’t considered that at all. But to be fair, I lost a bet with Bobcat about putting a donut on the moon. I failed to define what a ‘donut’ was, and so he took one of our moon-landers and videotaped it doing round circles in the regolith.” He made a distasteful face, “That was cheating. But I’ve only myself to blame. It isn’t like I haven’t been around them long enough to know they are lawyers when it comes to bet verbiage.” He glanced at her and smiled sheepishly, “But, I admit all of that to say I won the bet.”

  Then, he winked at her.

  Gabrielle could feel her cheeks flush just slightly. This rocket-scientist was trying his damnedest to flirt with her. Well, give him an ‘A’ for effort.

  “Oh, you did, did you?” She smiled back to him. Marcus had lost a lot of years with his body changes, and his hair had grown back nicely. She was about to respond when the two were interrupted.

  “Excuse me?” The two looked over to see a well-dressed man in a dark blue fitted Italian suit and white shirt next to their table.

  “Yes?” The two of them answered simultaneously.

  “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help but notice I’ve seen you on television. My name is David Silverstein, and I’m a mid-level producer here in LA,” he went on to say.

  Marcus turned to Gabrielle, who, he had to agree with the man, was stunning in her black dress that hugged her body so well, “Please,” he told Gabrielle, “see what the man has to say.”

  Gabrielle was about to respond when the man interrupted, “Not to be rude, but I was going to ask you if you're Marcus Cambridge? The Marcus from the ‘Kiss my Ass NASA’ comment that works for TQB?”

  Gabrielle wanted to pick her mouth up off of the floor. She hadn’t necessarily expected anyone to approach her here in Los Angeles for acting, but she was accustomed to being accosted for her looks over the decades.

  Now, she was being upstaged by a rocket scientist. Gott Verdammt! She grinned to herself. Teach her to assume, wouldn’t it?

  “Well, yes I am,” Marcus agreed, “However, as you can see I’m in the middle of an excellent lunch with my date here. I’d be happy to contact you some other time.”

  The man seemed a little shocked and took another look at Gabrielle. He smiled agreeably and pulled out a card that he handed to Marcus. As Marcus accepted it, the man patted him on the back and leaned towards him, “Good choice.” Then, he stepped back and made his way to his table. Marcus looked up to see Gabrielle smiling mischievously at him.

  “That sir,” Gabrielle said as she leaned towards him, “Just got you a good day kiss!”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Washington, D.C. - USA

  “Sir, we are going to have a problem.” George started immediately when the President stepped into the meeting room.

  The President stepped over to shake George’s hand, “Well, good thing I’ve had my antacids, George.” He pulled a chair and sat down. “Ok, take it from the top.”

  “Sir, I’ve uncovered evidence one of our operative leads in South America freelanced his services to the Chinese contact to pull together a merc group to attack the TQB students’ bus.”

  “What?” the President exploded in shock, demanding, “What the hell was he doing freelancing against Americans!” The President slammed his hand down on the table, “Who the hell did this?”

  “Phillip Simmons. He’s been a top lead down there for over two decades.” George stated.

  “Why would he do this?” the President asked.

  “The short answer, when I leave names out and ask those in the profession, is because he is probably looking to exit on his own terms. He has money squirreled away somewhere, and this would add to his retirement,” George answered.

  The President didn’t speak for a few moments, as he pondered this issue. “So, other than the fact he’s broken I don’t know how many laws and our trust this means … ?” he asked.

  “It means he is on TQBs list, I’m sure.” George answered, “These people are damned good. The NSA guys are starting to look for weird stock manipulations as a way to hone in on where the likely players are attacking each other.”

  “Following the smoke signals?” the President asked.

  “Yes,” George replied.

  “So, you think that TQB is going to do what to Phillip?” the President asked

  “Personally? He is probably in the same column as Sean Truitt. Hell, he would be for me. Hiring mercenaries to capture kids?” George said, “If it wasn’t for the cops having been called already, we might not have known about that issue. They got there the same time as the TQB people. Weird stuff is going on with that group as well,” George reminded the President.

  “Yes, but not one child hurt,” the President spoke softly, “these people are good.”

  “They are probably the best,” George said, “I’ve done more research into Frank Kurns. He was a contact that was only whispered about amongst the military. If your team found something weird out in the sandpit? Well, you called Frank. He would ask you some questions. If he told you, it was your problem, then cinch your nuts up into a sack and get your ass back into gear. However,” George said as he tapped the table with his finger, “If Frank told you to step back? Then the choices were listen to him or lose your men. You never questioned him twice.”

  “What would he do, then?” the President asked, curious, “I’m assuming the situation didn’t just magically disappear.”

  “No. His team would come in, usually ferried to their location if necessary by another group of military. You didn’t get in their way, and they didn’t get in your way. They came in. They took care of the problem, they left. Occasionally, they would carry out one or more of their people in a body bag, and many of the people would be wearing bandages,” George supplied.

  “So, they aren’t supermen.” the President quipped.

  “Perhaps not, but there is the Syrian event of a few years ago.”

  “Remind me? Syria is a constant powder keg of so many events I forget them.”

  “I’m not sure how much you know, but there was a situation with a crooked Colonel Nickelson
, who had taken money to sucker a special black ops group into an ambush. He lost almost two complete fire-teams getting the trap set for them.”

  “What happened to the black ops team?” the President asked.

  “We think they got out. We don’t know for sure because the valley was fortuitously hit with a meteor. It obliterated the whole valley along with any evidence,” George supplied, “For a long time we couldn’t figure out how something could be pushed down right into the correct orbit to come down on that valley, now we do.”

  The President leaned back in his chair, “You’re talking about a group that effectively has kinetic bombs of mass destruction.” He thought another second, “And this Colonel Nickelson?”

  “Shot in the knee coming out of a bar here in Washington. Then, a mysterious package of evidence showing how he was responsible for sending those men into Syria and withdrawing all support from them along with supporting documentation of him receiving money.” George answered, “Then, he was killed while in prison.”

  “TQB?” The President asked.

  “I don’t think so,” George answered, “no concrete reason except my gut says if they wanted to kill him, then they wouldn’t have shot his knee out.”

  “So, you are attributing them the kneecap?” the President asked.

  “That and the evidence, yes.” George agreed, “which brings me back around to Phillip Simmons.” When the President just nodded, George continued, “We have a few choices. We can bring him back to the states and arrest him, or we can leave him alone and let TQB take care of him. I’m pretty sure based on what I’ve uncovered, he is marked. What are your thoughts about that?”

  The President’s eyes focused, “If Phillip Simmons had done something we asked, even if it was something a crooked superior asked, then we would pull him back and protect him. That’s true for any of our people.” The President’s voice went a little darker. “But mercenaries attacking American children? Well, if TQB needs to know where he is, I’m for sending them his address,” the President finished.

  “Ok, I’ll strike that problem from the list,” George said, making a mark on his tablet.

  Near Shennongjia Peak, Hubei

  The presence of the trees and the cooler mountain air brought a relaxation as Stephanie Lee walked the path up the mountain. As a girl, she would go up and down this path and never think about it because she was in condition and able to handle the exercise very well. That allowed her to continue with a shape that looked very good as an adult.

  That conditioning had eroded over the time that she had been gone. By the time she made the top step and entered through the ceremonial temple opening, she was breathing hard. Approaching the brazier, she placed a small amount of incense in the ashes allowing the smoke to waft up. She used her hands to pull the smoke across her, cleansing senses and mind.

  She wanted to snort. It would take so much more smoke than this to cleanse her, but that was for another time.

  Waiting there in the room for an endless-seeming time, more peace came to her. It was the calmness that was always present, but too often easy to miss unless you allowed yourself the option of experiencing it.

  Stephanie Lee turned to walk further into the temple and noticed the candles that both offered light and marked time were down thirty minutes from when she walked into the incense room.

  Walking slowly, allowing the peace of the temple to embrace her, she decided to forego the little child in her that wanted to run away after throwing a fit.

  There was another flower in the middle of the floor two steps from the altar. It was a not-so-subtle declaration from her father that she needed to meditate.

  She knelt down behind the flower, bending down and allowing her nose to inhale the fragrance. She leaned back up to view the many candles on the wall in front of her. They seemed to have a larger glow around them than they had a moment before.

  Slowly, she closed her eyes as a voice called from the shadows, “Dream…”

  TOM’s Ship

  Bethany Anne watched as the Pod door slid back, and Tabitha opened her eyes. She blinked a couple of times before turning to focus and moving her head towards Bethany Anne. “Hello!” she smiled, “God, I feel great!” She lifted up and put an elbow to brace herself, “So, what did the diagnoses say?”

  Bethany Anne pursed her lips, “Well, you should stay put for a second as you learn what has happened in the last three weeks.”

  “Three…weeks?” Tabitha asked, confused, “I thought I would be down only a couple of hours?”

  “Yes, that was the plan. But two hours after we talked, we found out you had a vicious cancer and other genetic issues, so I made adjustments.” Bethany Anne answered.

  “So, you took care of the cancer, right?” Tabitha asked, alarmed, “and what issues do I have?”

  “None anymore, Tabitha. But, all of these corrections come with a price,” Bethany Anne added, “So, I chose to make the decision for you, in accordance with our agreement that you are to clean up South America and your allegiance to me as your Queen.”

  “Well, certainly. Why would that change?” Tabitha was feeling battered by the whipsawed information coming at her.

  “Because you are now the second Queen’s Ranger, ranked only below Barnabas. As such, I’ve told him your area of responsibility for the short term is South America.”

  And you have other perks, Bethany Anne said.

  Wait? What! Are we mind speaking! How fucking cool is this shit! Tabitha’s face lit up with a smile.

  Bethany Anne grinned, I guess you are right, it is fucking cool. The difference is I’ve had TOM tweak you. You can now reach through the Etheric to contact me directly. The Queen’s Rangers will be able to communicate with me through mind speech. So, don’t abuse it.

  So, no asking you what I should wear to go out? Tabita started or asking you what I should eat or asking you…

  Bethany Anne grumped, Maybe I was a bit too quick to make this adjustment, TOM

  NO! Tabitha stopped, alarmed. I was joking, I won’t abuse it, Bethany Anne, I promise.

  Well, I can always adjust it. TOM interrupted.

  Who is that? Tabitha asked

  That is TOM.

  Holy Fucking slut jumping on a stick! Tabitha squealed in their communication. Am I talking with an alien?

  “Stop!” Bethan Anne commanded with a hand up in a stop gesture, “You are going to have to get a grip with this ability. Whatever the hell you just did to pierce my eardrums with a mental squeal - don’t ever do that again.”

  “Sorry,” Tabitha admitted, “I get excited still.”

  Bethany Anne reached down to the new set of clothes she had brought up to the spacecraft, “I get that,” she replied, “We will get that beaten out of you.”

  “Wait, what?” Tabitha’s eyes grew large in alarm, “Beaten?”

  Bethany Anne smiled, “Well, yes, you are three weeks behind in your martial arts practice and your team is anxious to help you learn.” She smiled deviously, adding, “And pain is universally considered an excellent teacher.”

  ---

  “So, sir, that makes Beatrice’s disappearance the fourth person in the European theater since we attacked.” Johann finished, “And I’m pretty sure she didn’t just disappear to keep herself safe. For one, she was seen going into her apartment in London, and she never left. Furthermore, we found a broken glass unicorn on the floor once we entered. The few times I've been in her home, it was always spotless.”

  “I understand,” the deep voice came out of the speaker, “I will touch base with additional resources in Europe to track that issue. However, what are you doing to continue the effort to harass TQB for our members?”

  “Sir, the Congressman in Florida did about as much as he is willing. He’s a sniveling coward. So, the lawyers are trying to attack them in court and require TQB to confirm that their technology is not infringing on any patents from members and others we can financially support. If we force TQB into cou
rt, the legal system can require them to confirm how their technology is not the same. So, we have that.”

  “What is happening on that front?” He asked.

  “At the moment, it is a stalemate between our teams and their lead counsel and the legal teams to which he is outsourcing the individual rebuttals,” Johann answered, noticing that the three security bars on the top right of his screen were solid.

  “What about his support person in Washington? Weren’t we going to take care of her efforts?”

  “Well, we tried.” Johann said with frustration, “We sent a total of three groups of thugs against her. The first two were soundly beaten and left on the side of the road. We haven't heard from the third group.”

 

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