Quinn shifted his stance. “Recent events might encourage them to fortify the castle. When was the last time US agents stormed a castle-like building on an island surrounded by a dangerous river current?”
She chuckled. “You have a point. Let’s leave the battle strategy to the experts, shall we? You do what you have to do to stop Victor, but please minimize the damage. Whenever possible, we need to work together to secure the city’s safety from Dark Flame. He’s gone crazy. What happened today cannot happen anywhere else.”
“Chief,” Blue Spekter said, squaring off with her, “can I count you as part of my team?” Then, he extended his hand across her desk and waited.
She looked at his hand, hesitated, then looked into his eyes. “Your team?”
“Yes. But first, I need to know if I can trust you. If you have any remaining loyalty to The Order, or if you have any hesitation about doing the right thing, don’t shake my hand. However, if you are committed to serving the public trust and behaving in accordance with the Oath of Honor you swore to uphold, to protecting the city and wiping out The Order, then yes, I invite you to join my team.”
“You have a team?” she repeated, but he couldn’t tell if it was a statement or a question.
He nodded.
Her eyes traveled down to his hand, then back up to his eyes. She swallowed.
“Choose carefully,” Blue Spekter cautioned. “The last thing I need on my team is a traitor. I don’t need our plans getting back to Victor or The Order.
She briefly smiled at him. “You are well-spoken for such a young man.” Then, she stood and shook his hand. “I am finished with The Order. Any interactions I have with them will be strictly for the purpose of intelligence gathering we can use to take them down. Now, who else is on this team?”
“Patience, Chief. When the time is right, I’ll bring us together.”
3-17 | Aftermath
Quinn
QUINN FLEW SEVERAL MORE LAPS around the downtown Portsmouth area, but he still couldn’t sense Ana Maria—or Blake for that matter. Giving up, he flew home and came to an abrupt stop in the air.
Oh crap.
Dad’s SUV was parked in the driveway.
He reached for the phone in his waistband and pulled it out. The super-strong fabric had protected it from damage and because it was waterproof, the river didn’t ruin it. The display told him it was two-thirty in the afternoon.
How could I have been so stupid? Shit, I’m in so much trouble.
Turning himself invisible, he flew down to the house and hovered outside the unlocked bedroom window he snuck out of. Seeing and hearing nothing, he slipped inside, hovering in the air. He quietly stripped out of his super suit and pulled on some clothes that were lying over the footboard of his bed. Then, he grabbed a heavy sweatshirt and quietly slipped outside and lowered the window.
With a heavy sigh, he floated around the house and descended to the front door. Looking around, he became visible again. With a churning stomach of nerves, he unlocked the front door and entered the house, gently shutting the door behind him, the latch clicking behind him.
The house was silent for several seconds until the heavy and angry-sounding footsteps of his father, Tim, echoed throughout the house, his dress shoes striking the floor with determination.
He’s pissed.
Do I go upstairs? Do I greet him? Do I pretend like nothing is wrong?
Realizing his father was seconds away, he froze, unsure of what to do.
Do I tell him I’m Blue Spekter?
Dad rounded the corner and stopped in his tracks when he saw Quinn. The look on his father’s face told him everything he needed to know about what was about to go down.
“Hi,” Quinn answered, his voice cracking like an eleven-year-old.
Dad folded his arms across his chest and planted his feet firmly on the floor, his eyes glaring at him with hurt and anguish.
“You told us you were sick.”
“I…yeah, I was.”
“Did you lie?”
Quinn swallowed. I don’t want to lie right now.
“Why were you at Prescott Park?” Dad asked. “Were you skipping school with Keegan?”
“How did you know I was at Prescott Park?” Quinn asked, astonished.
“I pinged your phone and pulled up your location, Quinton. Tell me why were you at Prescott Park.”
Ouch…he used my full name. Quinn sighed and swallowed nervously. How could I have been so stupid…our phones are set up so we can locate each other.
“I uh, um…”
Dad scanned him from head to toe, then frowned at his face. “You know what, it doesn’t matter to me right now, Quinton, because I’m too angry and hurt, I don’t want to hear another lie today. A couple months ago you skipped school with Blake and we let it slide. Today, you clearly lied to us and you look like you’ve been wrestling in the dirt. Did you go off-roading or something?”
Right, the cowl covered my face but I must look like a mess.
“Dad, I…” Quinn paused and looked at the floor. No matter what I say, I’ll just dig a deeper hole for myself.
“I left work early to come home and check on you, but you weren’t home because you weren’t sick. I decided to wait, because surely my son wouldn’t lie to me, but I was wrong.”
“Dad, please” Quinn said, tears forming in his eyes and rolling down his cheeks. I’m too afraid to tell you the truth…My life has changed so much, if you knew what’s really going on, you wouldn’t be safe any more…dammit, this is like coming out all over again.
His father extended his arm and pointed upstairs. “Go to your room and reflect on your poor choices. You’re grounded.” Then, his father turned on his heel and walked back to his office. “And take a shower,” he called out. “You’re covered in dirt. That ought to be a good story when Aren gets home.”
Aw, shoot; Daddio doesn’t know yet? Quinn put his shaking hand on the bannister and climbed the stairs, unable to fight the emotions that welled up inside him.
I hurt my dads today, but it hurts me so much more…I was so confident with Chief Applegate, but now I’m a total mess and a complete ass because I’m hurting the people I love. Being a superhero is too much…I’m sixteen and I can’t handle this anymore. I’m just too stupid or excited to accept that my world has fallen apart and these powers are to blame…this curse I have to carry.
Tears fell to the stairs and the hallway floor as he fought his emotions and stormed into his bedroom and collapsed onto his bed, allowing himself to sob into a pile of dirty laundry.
I can’t take this anymore.
❖
Blake
Dark Flame approached the closed door to Victor’s office and listened, his shoulder resting on the metal door.
Silence.
Most of the Rangeley staff had returned to Orgonon, leaving a skeleton crew at the Seavey Island facility. This allowed Dark Flame easy access to the entire facility, especially when he became invisible and snuck past the guards.
A man cleared his throat and startled him.
Dark Flame turned his head and saw Radoslav looking at him with amusement.
“I have informations you want,” Radoslav said.
“Tell me,” he replied, stepping away from Victor’s door. Sheesh, it’s been like, two days. Is the man still here?
Radoslav answered in broken English. “I make interrogations of Melvin, but he is like big baby. No surprise to me, of course. He write the things you want in this notebook.”
Radoslav handed over the notebook he carried.
“Just tell me who’s in charge?” Dark Flame asked, cutting through Radoslav’s explanatory fluff. He took the notebook from Radoslav and thumbed through the front pages that had been written on.
The interrogator chuckled. “Archimandrion Council.”
Dark Flame looked up, pushed away from the door, and faced Radoslav. “What?” He asked, staring at him in awe, mouth agape.
Radoslav nodded. “I know
, I was surprised, too.”
“He lied to you,” Dark Flame said, shaking his head and refusing to believe what Radoslav had just told him.
“I thought he lied, too. But, informations he wrote for me, details, names…he not lie to Radoslav. That man squeal like pig. To make short story long, the monies move from the drug cartels to fund The Order through fake companies. Is all written down.”
“What did you do with him? It’s been like two days.” Dark Flame asked.
I left him in my…birou…my office, for now.”
“He’s suffered enough. You can let him go, but escort him off the island.”
“Right away.”
Radoslav turned and walked away.
“Radoslav?” Dark Flame called after him.
“Yes?” the man replied, half-turning to look at Dark Flame.
“Does Victor know about this…business we conducted?”
“I no tell him.”
“Good. Keep it that way.”
Radoslav nodded, turned, and walked away.
Dark Flame leaned against the cool wall of the hallway, allowing his thoughts to consume him.
So, Victor…The Order is not as innocent as you’ve made it out to be. The very people you want me to take out employ you…that doesn’t seem logical, at all.
❖
Victor
“Are you absolutely certain you wish to proceed, Hegumen?” Dr. Madison asked curtly, glaring at him from behind her workstation in the control room.
“The men are chipped?” Victor asked. He sensed her unwillingness to move forward with Genesis II.
Dr. Madison nodded.
“Then, proceed, Doctor. Commence primary ignition,” Victor responded, his tone conveying his displeasure at her question.
Dr. Madison tapped a few buttons. Then, the sound of increasing energy oscillations resonated through the small facility.
“Miguel, display the core interior on the wall monitor,” Victor ordered.
“Sure,” Miguel responded. A moment later, the large, wall-sized projection shifted from various power readouts to a high-resolution camera feed of the reactor core’s interior.
On the elevating, circular platform in the center of the reactor core, two strong, muscular men wearing only black boxer briefs stood together, facing one another, their arms tense at their sides a they waited for the experiment to begin.
“Reactor array at full power,” Arek commented from his workstation.
“Just as with the Primes, execute a full discharge and use everything we have,” Victor said. They had checked and double checked the conditions of the chamber in an attempt to replicate what happened when Quinn and Blake accidentally triggered the reactor core’s firing solution.
Dr. Madison’s console beeped and she cleared her throat. “Chamber is ready, firing controls at your command.”
Victor stepped forward and approached the projected image, dwarfed by the nearly-nude men projected on the wall.
“Fire.”
“Auto-sequence initiated,” Dr. Madison replied.
All the noise and sounds of energy built up in the reactor stopped and silence ensued. Then, a blinding flash of blue and white light descended on the two men in the reactor core and overloaded the camera’s photoreceptors. The screen flashed as the projection attempted to compensate.
Seconds later, the light faded and the camera feed returned to normal, resuming its transmission of the two men on the metal disc as it slowly descended to the main floor. The men appeared shocked and they struggled to remain standing.
“What’s wrong with them?” Victor asked.
“I’m uncertain, as I’ve never seen this before.” Dr. Madison said, watching the large projection.
“Get them out of there,”
“Not yet, orgone radiation levels are still too high,” Miguel responded.
A moment later, the man on the right violently threw up. The other collapsed, falling forward to his hands and knees. Then, his arms gave out and he fell on his face, his thighs still holdings his buttocks in the air.
Then, the vomiting man’s face and his upper torso exploded. The man—or what was left of him—collapsed and fell to the metal disk. Workers in control room reacted with cursing and other horrified expressions of shock.
Victor turned away from the larger-than-life projection of blood and gore and winced in disgust.
“What the hell?” he exclaimed, whipping around to look Dr. Madison.
Immediately, the loss-of-vitals alert started ringing at one of the consoles.
Dr. Madison sighed. “We lost asset beta.”
“You need a computer to tell you that?” Victor yelled, pointing at the bloody projection behind him. “He just exploded and I want to know why.”
“So do I,” Dr. Madison replied, her gazed fixed and unflinching as she scowled at Victor.
“Vitals on asset alpha are…”
A second loss-of-vitals alert rang out, cutting Arek off. Victor turned back to the projection.
“We just lost asset alpha,” Dr. Madison confirmed. “I’m sorry Victor, but we needed more time to do this right.”
He rounded on Dr. Madison and angrily marched to her workstation. He yelled at her with frustration. “Two teenagers stumbled into the Orgonon reactor core on Labor Day weekend during a fucking family camping trip and managed to do the very thing we’re trying to do right now. The only difference, Doctor, is that they survived! We don’t have more time. Figure out what went wrong. I want a full report on my desk by the end of the day.”
Dr. Madison frowned as Victor turned to Arek and Miguel. “Clean up the reactor and reset it for the next round. Aim the Cloudbuster arrays to the northwest and recharge…scratch that. Initiate a mega-fusion sequence and pull energy from whichever reactor core is ready.”
They nervously looked at one another, but nodded to Victor, who stormed to the control room door. The door slid open, but before he left the room, he turned back to the team. “I’m going to need two more volunteers. Find and prep them immediately.” Then, he exited the control room and made his way to his office.
When his office door shut behind him, he threw himself into one of his recliners, picked up a green stress ball, and viciously squeezed it in his fingers. It stretched and popped in his hand as Victor took his frustrations out on the ball. A moment later, the comm system rang.
“Answer,” he announced.
An electronically-disguised voice spoke. “Your progress, Victor?”
Victor threw his head back and sighed. “Greetings, Madame Presider. First attempt, failure. Both subjects dead within seconds of orgone infusion. Second attempt preparations underway.”
A few seconds of silence passed before the ominous voice spoke again. “We await your next report.”
The call disconnected, and Victor smirked. You await your doom.
❖
The End of this Book
Book 4 – Ultimate Sacrifice
4-1 | Thanksgiving
Quinn
“WHY DID I AGREE TO do this?” Keegan asked, hugging himself to keep warm. His teeth chattered while he waited with Quinn behind the starting line of the Portsmouth Turkey Trot near the high school, a holiday 5K run and a family tradition for the McAlester family.
“Because you love me,” Quinn replied, squeezing his boyfriend’s hand. He wrapped his arms around Keegan and gave him a bear hug to help keep him warm.
“If it wasn’t so windy it wouldn’t be as bad,” Daddio said, jogging in place to keep warm.
“And, it’s a family tradition, no matter how cold it is,” Dad added.
“I’m not sure I want to keep doing it given how cold it is today,” Daddio responded with a half-smile. The weather had turned unseasonably cool and a wind chill from the ocean made the air feel much colder than it was.
“On your marks, runners!” a loud, mechanical voice announced through a megaphone.
Moments later, the starting pistol fired and the thro
ng of runners moved in waves out of the starting gate. Quinn, Keegan, and his family took off as well, but the boys hung back for some privacy while Quinn’s dads, Tim and Aren, ran ahead with some of their friends and coworkers. Since Keegan wasn’t a runner, Quinn decided to run slower so his boyfriend wouldn’t feel alone and left out—especially since he had labored to convince Keegan to run with him that morning. In addition, running fast in nearly zero-degree weather wreaked havoc with his lungs and sinuses, a nuisance he hoped to avoid.
“I’m surprised your dads still let you do this, being grounded and all,” Keegan said, huffing as he struggled to keep up with the pace Quinn set.
“No kidding. It seems being grounded doesn’t prevent me from attending family traditions.”
“I still wish I could see you later tonight,” Keegan replied, sucking in air.
“I know,” Quinn responded. “Maybe they’ll relax a little with the holiday and all. It’s been a week now, so maybe full bellies and a couple beers will help me get off the hook.”
“I hope so,” Keegan huffed, bouncing his eyebrows suggestively at Quinn. “I really miss you.”
Quinn grinned. “I know what you mean.”
“So, um, are we almost done yet?” Keegan asked, mischievously smiling as he clutched his heart.
Quinn snorted. “We’ve barely run a tenth of a mile, but I’ve got good news…we only have three miles to go!”
Keegan groaned and then laughed. “So, what’s it like for you when you’re grounded?” Keegan asked.
“School, work, home; school, work, home,” Quinn answered, his voice monotonous and drone-like. “And, my dads are all over me, constantly checking in to make sure I’m where I’m supposed to be. It’s pretty annoying.”
“I bet. Are they always like this?”
“No. To be honest, I can’t remember the last time I was grounded. I think I really hurt them this time.”
“Why exactly did you skip school? You never told me,” Keegan huffed out.
Here I go again with another lie. “I honestly felt sick early that morning, but around ten I felt better. So, I went for a walk in the park. I didn’t think it was gonna be a big deal, you know? But apparently, it was the end of the world.”
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