by Joshua Grant
“What happened Carver, Watcher fuck you over?” Aubrey taunted, having heard enough.
“No, you did. Jack and Konesco would have had that sample back to me by now if you hadn’t sabotaged the chopper.”
“What do you mean?” Julian asked incredulously. “That was Watcher, not us. It used the same electrical field to cripple the chopper that it used to disrupt our communications.”
“You mean the same field that kept the searchers from finding the ship?” Carver said, raising a brow pointedly. More dark amusement poured into his eyes. “Oh this is rich. That conniving bastard is playing both sides.” He snorted, pouring himself a glass of brandy from an intricate looking bottle that probably cost more than Aubrey’s education.
“You really don’t know anything, do you?” he said in a mixture of amazement and amusement. “You’re just taking a shot in the dark here. Well, why don’t you take a message back to your master for me.”
“What’s that?” Julian asked, his voice hard. He was just as sick of Carver’s games as Aubrey was.
Carver’s hand slipped into his desk and the humor in his craggy face drained. “Looking for this?” Julian held up the small pistol. The damned thing was actually gold plated. Bastard.
Carver sat back in his chair slowly, realizing he’d been defeated. “I take it you disabled my security system as well?”
“You’d never even get close to that button anyway,” Julian informed, his voice pure liquid nitrogen.
Carver took a swig of the brandy. “Are you here to kill me?”
“As much as we’d like to, you’re gonna tell us all about your Organization, then we’re gonna let the police have you,” Aubrey said.
“The police,” Carver said spitefully. “They were the first group our Organization was able to infiltrate. I own the police. But since I’m feeling generous, I’ll tell you a few things, if only to throw a wrench in my counterpart’s gears. The first thing you should know—“
Carver stopped, looking a little pink in the face. “The first—first—“
His eyes went wide and bloodshot. He cast them hatefully down on the half-finished glass of brandy. “B-bastard!” he choked.
Julian and Aubrey looked on in shock as the man wrenched back and forth, cascading into a series of painful convulsions—
--like Sasha on the ship! Like he was about to spray tentacles from his foaming mouth!
No, it can’t be happening! Not here!
Carver’s convulsions rapidly ceased and he keeled forward onto the desk and didn’t move. They stared at the body, neither knowing what to say or do. Aubrey hesitantly stepped forward to check him—
--and managed to breathe.
“He’s dead,” she confirmed. “They poisoned him.”
Just poison, she thought, feeling minor amounts of relief trickle through her.
“We’d better get out of here,” Julian said, looking around the room as if a dozen ninjas might jump out at them at any moment. “They’ll be coming for us too.”
The statement poured into her muscles like liquid nitrogen freezing them in place. They. Just who the hell were these people, this Organization? They killed their own leader heartlessly, with about as much thought Aubrey took to brew a cup of coffee or retrieve the newspaper. These people cared nothing for human life. They’d burn the whole world and everyone in it just to get what they wanted.
And now Julian and Aubrey stood in the way of their goals. They’re going to come for us. They’re going to find us and then—
Julian’s warm hand slid comfortingly over her shoulders. “Hey, it’s going to be okay,” he whispered. She looked at him, the man looking so tired and beat up and grimy--and all the tension suddenly slid out of her shoulders. She didn’t know how it was possible, but she actually believed him. As long as Julian was with her, everything was going to be okay.
She managed a smile and a nod. Julian returned it, again the understanding and trust between them transcending words.
They headed for their back exit. “You know, once we get Ricardo, we’re gonna be on the run for quite some time,” he warned.
“Moving from safe house to safe house, donning new identities, living from day to day as if it might be our last,” she added.
“You say that like it’s a good thing.”
“Fighting a good cause with the man of my dreams at my side,” Aubrey leaned in and kissed him. “What could be better than that?”
She smiled and he did too. Outside the office window, the first vestiges of dawn light were beginning to warm the horizon. A new day had dawned, and for the first time in a long time, Aubrey looked forward to it. Truly, she felt alive.
Epilogue
Marcus stood, leaning heavily on his cane just as the first rays of sunshine crested the horizon. He stared out at a majestic ocean and marveled at its beauty, and more so at its secrets. Knowledge was power, and secrets were the most divine form of knowledge. Knowing what no one else did made you essentially a god.
He smiled. The predesignated beach was a good choice. Secluded, surrounded by jagged rocks, the meeting place would be safe from prying eyes, should anyone be insane enough to be up at this early hour. Everything had been arranged and thought through to the minute. And if Marcus’ calculations were correct—
“Right on time,” he muttered under his breath triumphantly as the small craft bubbled to the surface, creating a mound of sand with its nose like a freshly beached whale. He clamped his silver pocket watch shut and returned it to his vest. His top agent was meticulous and efficient, the whole reason he sent him on this one. Frankly, Marcus liked him, well as close as he could get to being fond of another human being. He tended to view people as useful and less useful. This one fell into the category of superb.
Marcus strolled down the beach to meet him. He cursed his disease-addled leg that forced him to limp. It denoted weakness, something he couldn’t tolerate. But that was something he wouldn’t have to worry about for long, not after this glorious morning. And with Carver, his main rival, dead or dying, this was turning out to be a fine day indeed.
The escape pod’s side hatch opened and a man practically fell out onto the beach. He looked like he had been through hell. He probably has, Marcus mused. The man picked himself up, sand still clinging to the matted blood on his tunic.
“Do you have it?” Marcus asked, his voice sounding more desperate than he would have liked, but he couldn’t help it. The cornerstone of his empire would be laid here, now, in this very instant. His pacemakered heart beat faster. “The sample, did you manage to collect it?”
Mackenzie smiled at him and produced a vile containing the last surviving piece of Watcher. The tumorous mass squirmed and strained against its glass prison but apparently lacked the strength to break it. “Took it off one of the fliers. Damn thing nearly killed me getting it.” He nodded to his bandaged shoulder.
Like I care. Marcus reached out a hand. This was the moment of truth. “Give it to me,” he beckoned.
Mackenzie looked at the vile, at Marcus, and then handed the glass tube over. Marcus held the small organism up. Remarkable how something so small was going to change the fate of the world.
“Ironically, it kept me alive,” Mackenzie informed. “Watcher couldn’t seem to detect my position or whether I still lived as I wore that. It acts as a kind of camouflage. Something to keep in mind.”
“And what of your other objectives?” Marcus asked impatiently.
Mackenzie removed a small keycard. “This certainly came in handy. I take it Carver won’t be missing it?”
Marcus nodded with a smile. He’d be smiling about that particular triumph for some time to come. Mackenzie continued. “It worked like you said it would. I was able to lock Watcher and the others out of the ship’s controls. That ensured the ship would be destroyed by Carver’s jets once it passed the failsafe. I underestimated Watcher’s abilities to tamper with the generators though.”
“And Carver’s agents?�
� Marcus pressed. Mackenzie was always a little bit long winded. It was his least desirable quality.
“Eliminated both. Watcher did in Konesco. I took care of Jack, though I had to destroy the chopper to do it. Made things a little more…challenging.” He stretched out his damaged shoulder.
“And the others?” Marcus concluded. “I trust they remained blissfully unaware until they were disposed of?”
“I contained the situation. They found their headsets to be suddenly quite useless so they only heard what I wanted them to. Watcher made things difficult for us in the end. I was forced to elicit their help in destroying the ship and preparing the pods.”
Marcus raised a concerned brow. “They didn’t learn my true identity and purpose,” Mackenzie quickly added. “And even if they miraculously escaped that hellhole, they think I’m dead, killed by Watcher. Very nearly the case actually.”
Marcus already knew Mr. Eduardo and Dr. Pittinger had made it out safely. The other pod was discovered some hours earlier, empty and abandoned. They knew nothing of consequence. Even if they discovered Carver’s hidden file, Marcus had it replaced with false information filled with red herrings for them to chase and ambushes for them to fall into. In addition, he already had people working to track them down. He liked to be thorough. As resourceful and resilient as they were, they still wouldn’t last long against the hell storm he had summoned on them.
This day just kept getting better and better. He’d have to celebrate later, maybe with one of the late 1800s vintages. A smile crept across his face.
Mackenzie smiled too, though he doubted for the same reasons. “Your dream is finally coming true. I hope I’ve made you proud father.”
Marcus hated when he called him that. Just as secrets were the purest form of knowledge and therefore pure power, family was the purest form of possession and therefore pure liability for his enemies to exploit. He knew this all too well for he’d done it himself occasionally on his climb to power.
“There’s just one more thing,” Marcus stated, almost hoping his son sensed the finality of the statement. “One more loose end.”
He raised a gloved hand, gesturing to the man he left hidden amongst the rocks. Mackenzie’s eyes went wide with panic as a loud crack rang out and blood spurted from his pierced throat. He fell to the ground, choking, his blood reddening the soft sand as he writhed in agony. No matter. The cleanup crew would be along shortly.
Marcus watched his son struggle futilely against death dispassionately. He had become too much of a liability. He knew too much about Marcus and, more importantly, about what he now possessed. It simply wouldn’t do for him to walk around, breathing, a living secret waiting to fall into an enemy’s clutches, not while Marcus was still vulnerable anyway.
But soon, soon you’ll change all of that, won’t you? He caressed the small vial containing Watcher as Mackenzie grew still. He swore the creature shivered expectantly at his touch. They were going to get along quite nicely.
He popped the vial into a hidden compartment in his pocket watch that was designed for this purpose and returned the implement to his vest pocket. He closed his eyes, reveling in the moment. After today, mankind was never going to be the same again. Marcus smiled. Yes, a bottle of wine. Let’s make it red.
Author Bio
Joshua Grant is a loving caring guy with a mild case of misadventure. He has survived a flash flood, encountered several bears, and has sailed the ocean blue. Currently, Josh makes a living teaching and working with kids in several different environments, with the occasional novel always in the works. Learn more about him and his work at diabolicshrimp.com.