Nine Lives

by Gary Winston Brown

  “Copy that, sir.” The soldier helped Tommy up from the coach. “Let’s go,” he said.

  Tommy turned to Hallier. “Are we under arrest, sir?”

  Hallier stared at the flash drive in his hand then back at the boy. “What do you think?” he replied.

  CHAPTER 4

  “ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?” Chris asked. He helped Jordan to a chair in the Training Room, brought her a bottle of water.

  Jordan nodded. “I had a vision,” she replied. “It was incredibly strong.”

  “I’ll say,” Chris said. “The last time you reacted like that was when you made a connection at the Rosenfeld murder scene.”

  “The energy felt similar,” Jordan agreed. She sipped the water, calmed her breathing.

  “Similar how?” Chris asked.

  “It’s hard to describe. Like I was traveling through a tunnel of bright light at warp speed, then total clarity. That’s when I saw them running.”

  “Who?”

  “The children,” Jordan replied. “Many of them. They were terrified, running from someone… or something.”

  “Could you see who or what it was?”

  Jordan shook her head. “No, but I know who they were with.”

  “Who?”

  “Commander Egan.”

  Hanover stared at his partner. “You saw him?”

  Jordan nodded. “He’s alive. I connected with him again after the attack at Long Beach.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Jordan stood. She was feeling better. The psychic event had passed. “Come with me,” she said. “There’s something I need to show you.”

  In the library, Jordan removed a Chinese puzzle box from the mantle and opened it, careful not to touch its contents. “Recognize this?” she asked.

  Chris looked at the small piece of plastic. “It’s a needle sheath,” he said.

  Jordan nodded. “I recovered it from the floor of the Pyramid at the Long Beach Campus after it fell.”

  “Where Merrick’s body was found.”

  “Yes. And the last place Commander Egan was seen alive.”

  “What happened that day was impossible,” Chris recalled. “If I hadn’t witnessed it with my own eyes, I’d never have believed it. Egan should have been under that debris pile with Merrick, but he wasn’t. There was a pink glow from beneath the rubble before we got to him, then he was gone. He’d vanished into thin air.”

  “That’s right,” Jordan said, “and I believe an examination of the trace contents inside this sheath will explain how he could do it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Remember what happened to me when I first picked it up?”

  Chris nodded. “A drop of the solution absorbed into your skin. It knocked you out.”

  “That’s right,” Jordan said. “Then I traveled. To where, I don’t know. Still don’t.”

  “You scared the hell out of me that day,” Chris said. “I thought I was going to lose you.”

  Jordan smiled. “No such luck.”

  “You said you connected with Egan. What do you mean?”

  “I saw a jungle path and a waterfall. Egan was on the path. He warned me not to follow him.”

  “That’s probably good advice. He’s DARPA’s problem now. Let them deal with him.”

  “It’s the children I’m concerned about.”

  “But you don’t know where they are or how to find them. There’s nothing you can do, Jordan.”

  “Maybe there is.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Jordan held up the puzzle box, displayed the needle sheath within it. “I can travel. Like I did before.”

  Chris understood what she meant. “Are you out of your mind? You know what happened the last time.”

  “Yes, but you’re here with me. If anything goes wrong…”

  “Like what?” Chris interrupted. “Like you go into cardiac arrest? Exposing yourself to that stuff again could send you on some psychic trip from which you might not return. No, Jordan. You can’t do it. It’s far too dangerous. You have no idea how repeated exposure to whatever the hell is in that thing will affect you. Besides, that sheath is evidence. You should have surrendered it to DARPA, given it to Hallier.”

  “I’m used to it now. I’ll be fine.”

  “Don’t do it, Jordan,” Chris warned.

  Jordan removed the plastic sheath from the puzzle box. “I know what I’m doing, Chris.”

  “Jordan…”

  “Trust me.”

  Jordan placed the needle sheath in her palm, closed her eyes, and thought about the children. The mild vibration she felt in her hand soon extended throughout her entire body.

  “Jordan,” Chris said, “can you hear me?” He wanted to touch her, shake her, break the connection the strange matter was having on her, but he was afraid of whatever repercussions such an action might bring. She was somewhere else now, on a plane of existence he did not understand and could not follow, in a place between this world and the next. All he could do was wait for the events to take their course and be there for her when she returned.

  Jordan traveled. When she opened her eyes a few seconds later, she found herself standing in the middle of a well-trodden path. She could feel the warmth of the sun on her body and smell the fresh mountain air. She was surrounded by lush tropical plants. Nearby, she heard the sound of a waterfall and the voices of children. Jordan walked along the narrow path until she reached the edge of a clearing. In the distance she saw a compound: several large buildings surrounded by a wood and wire fence. As she approached the perimeter of the property in her dream-like state her hearing became hyper-focused. Jordan zeroed-in on a group of men standing at the edge of the forest, all heavily armed. She watched as a tall thin man, dressed in camouflage from head to toe, approached the leader of what appeared to be an assault team. Jordan listened to the men as they talked.

  “Status report,” the thin man asked.

  “Diaz and the woman are inside the main building with the children,” the man said.

  “Bring him to me.”

  “And the woman?”

  “Do what you want with her.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “What about the American?”

  “No one has seen him.”

  “Keep watch. He’ll be back. If he causes trouble, kill him.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “When does the shipment arrive?”

  “Within the hour.”

  “Good. Organize the children. Make sure they have it packaged and ready for transport by tonight.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Send in your men. Get the old man. Do it now.”

  “Yes, sir.” The sentry spoke to his men, pointed to the compound, issued instructions.

  The thin man walked away.

  In the distance, a figure stood beyond the tree line, hidden in the forest.

  Unable to maintain her hold on the ethereal plane, the connection began to fade. As fast as she had traveled to the location of the children, Jordan was pulled back through the mysterious portal in her mind to the safety and security of the library. She drew a deep breath and stared at Chris.

  Chris took her hand, spoke to her. “Jordan, are you all right?”

  Jordan nodded. “How long was I gone?” she asked.

  “A few seconds.”

  “It seemed longer.”

  “It was long enough for me.”

  “I heard them.”

  “Heard who?”

  “The children.”

  “Where are they?”

  “I don’t know. But they’re in trouble. He’s going to hurt them if they don’t do what he says.”

  “Who is?”

  “The thin man.”

  CHAPTER 5

  WITH THE DEPARTURE of Diego Mendoza and his men, Ben Egan returned to the job of mending the broken fence. The visit from the drug lord had upset Hernando Diaz, who had retired to his office to work and take his mind off the confron
tation. In the playground, Marcella Herrara sat on the ground with the youngest child in the orphanage, Teresa Gomez. The little girl was having difficulty breathing. Marcella rubbed her back, comforted her.

  “Remember what I told you to do?” Marcella said.

  “Take s-slow, d-deep breaths,” Teresa replied.

  “That’s right.”

  “My chest hurts.”

  “I know it does, sweetie.”

  “H-how come?”

  “Because you have a medical condition,” Marcella said as she stroked her hair. “It’s called asthma. Do you need your puffer?”

  Teresa shook her head. She tried to control her breathing. “I can manage,” the girl said. She opened her mouth and inhaled tentatively at first, then graduated to fuller, deeper breaths.

  Marcella gave her a hug. “That’s my girl,” she said. “Do you want to lay down for a while?”

  “It always helps,” Teresa replied.

  “Then off you go,” her teacher said.

  Marcella helped the child to her feet. She watched as she walked off in the direction of the dormitory.

  Egan called out from across the compound. “Everything all right, Marcella?”

  Marcella turned around, smiled and waved. “Just a minor medical emergency,” she said. She walked over to Egan.

  “Is she going to be okay?” Ben asked.

  Marcella nodded. “She will be. It happens at least once a day. Nothing I can’t deal with.”

  Ben smiled. “School teacher and doctor. You’re a person of many talents.”

  “As are you,” Marcella replied. “I saw how you handled those men at the gate.”

  Egan shrugged. “It was no big deal.”

  “Actually, it was. Hernando has been worried about them for a while, of what the repercussions of turning them down might be.”

  “He told you what they want?”

  “He tells me everything,” Marcella replied. “He has to. There’s just the two of us here to run the entire facility and take care of the children. We can’t afford to keep secrets from each other.”

  “How many kids are here?” Egan asked.

  “Nine.”

  “How old?”

  “Teresa, the little one you saw me helping, is four. The rest are older. They range in age from six to ten.”

  “So young,” Ben said. “How did they end up here?”

  “Los Paveños, mostly,” Marcella said. “Their parents either worked for or were killed by the cartel. With no one to care for them they became orphans, children of the street. Local churches search for them. When a child is found they bring them here.”

  “Jesus,” Egan replied.

  Marcella nodded. “It wasn’t always this way. This used to be a good place to live. Mostly it still is. But there is not a lot of opportunity here. Many families barely survive. Some can’t afford to feed their children. They see friends and neighbors who once were suffering like them now driving fancy new cars, flashing money all over town, dining out at expensive restaurants, sending their children to private schools. No one asks where the money comes from. Everyone knows its cartel cash. And no one will say a thing for fear of being killed. Which is exactly what happened to the parents of these children.”

  “Hasn’t your government tried to stop it?”

  Marcella shrugged. “They do what they can. But for every person who dies working for the cartel there’s another waiting to take their place. It’s a vicious circle. The children are left to grow up here. We do the best we can, but we know it will never really be home. And they know it too.”

  “But surely your adoption rates are high.”

  Marcella shook her head. “This is not a place to which prospective parents want to travel to adopt a child. It’s too dangerous. Kidnappings are rare, but they occur.”

  “So the children pay the price.”

  “Yes, they do.”

  “How do you cope with the pressure?” Egan asked.

  “We can’t anymore. We’ve been making plans.”

  “Such as?”

  “To take the children and leave.”

  “And go where?”

  “We’re not sure yet,” Marcella said. “A church in San Jose has offered to take us in. But they can only offer us temporary accommodations. We won’t do that to the children. They’ve been through enough already. No, if we’re going to move it will be somewhere where they will be safe. Somewhere Los Paveños can’t get to them.”

  Egan shook his head. “This just isn’t right.”

  “Right or wrong, Mr. Egan, it is our reality.”

  “The little girl, Teresa. How long has she been sick?”

  “Since she arrived here. That was a year ago.”

  “Is she receiving treatment?”

  “It’s inconsistent. A friend of mine is a doctor. He gives us the expired medications his patients turn in to the clinic, physician’s samples, bottles of aspirin and ibuprofen, Band-Aids, ointment, gauze, and so on. He’s supposed to dispose of the drugs, but he looks the other way. He knows how badly the children need them. We’re fortunate. Except for Teresa, they’re all healthy.”

  “They’re lucky to have such responsible caregivers,” Egan said.

  Marcella smiled. “Thank you.”

  Hernando suddenly appeared in the dormitory doorway. “Marcella,” he called out. “Come quickly. It’s Teresa. She can’t breathe!”

  Marcella ran across the compound. Egan followed.

  Inside, the girl was sitting up in her bed, clutching her chest. Her body was shaking. “C-can’t breathe,” she said. “H-help… me.”

  “Has this happened before?” Egan asked.

  “No,” Marcella replied. She rifled through the girl’s bedside table.

  “What are you looking for?” Hernando asked.

  “Her inhaler,” Marcella said. “Blue cover and cap. Where is it?”

  Hernando checked the floor and under the bed. “I can’t find it. Wait... there. In the wastebasket.”

  “God, no!” Marcella said. She retrieved the puffer from the trash can, pulled off the cover, placed it in the child’s mouth, tried to dispense a measured dose of the life-saving medication.

  Empty.

  Marcella yelled at Hernando. “The medicine cabinet… quickly!”

  Hernando raced across the room, threw open the cabinet door, looked for the special box marked TERESA RX, opened the lid.

  Empty.

  He turned to Marcella; his face ashen. “Nothing,” he said. “That was the last one. She has no medication left. It’s all gone.”

  The girl fell back on the bed.

  Her breathing had stopped. Her airway was now fully obstructed.

  “No!” Marcella cried. “Not this girl! Not this sweet, sweet girl!” She picked up Teresa in her arms. The girl was limp. Her arms fell to her sides.

  “Put her down,” Egan said.

  Through her tears, Marcella said, “What?”

  “Quickly,” Egan said. “Lay her down. Step aside.”

  “What are you going to…”

  “Just do it!”

  Marcella lay the girl’s head gently down on the pillow. “I’m sorry, Teresa,” she cried. “I’m so, so sorry.”

  Egan placed his hand on the girl’s chest, closed his eyes, and concentrated.

  “What are you doing?” Hernando asked.

  Egan said nothing. Beneath his hand, the small child’s body began to quiver, then shake. A strange glow, rose-red, emanated from the palm of his hand. The air in the room suddenly felt electrified, as if the incomprehensible force field Egan was exerting upon the girl was being carried on every air molecule.

  The girl’s chest slowly began to rise and fall. She opened her eyes.

  Her breathing returned to normal.

  Egan removed his hand from her chest. “Hey, sweetie,” he said. “You okay?”

  The girl stared at him, nodded her head. “I feel strange,” she said.

  “What do you m
ean, baby?” Marcella asked.

  The little girl forced a smile. “The pain in my chest. It’s gone.”

  Egan smiled. “You’re going to be fine,” he said. “Just lay here and rest up for a while, okay?”

  “Okay,” Teresa replied.

  Egan stood. Hernando and Marcella stared at him in disbelief.

  “What?” Egan said. He smiled. “You mean you can’t do that?”

  “I’ve never seen anything like that in my life,” Hernando said.

  Marcella was aghast. “Impossible,” she said. “Absolutely impossible.”

  Hernando began to speak. “How did you…”

  Egan raised his hand. “It was nothing.”

  “You healed her with your touch,” Marcella said. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

  “I couldn’t stand by and watch the girl die,” Egan said. “Not when I knew I could help.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” Hernando said. “I’m speechless.”

  “And that’s exactly how it has to stay,” Egan said. “Neither of you can tell a soul about what you saw here today. If you do your lives could be in danger. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” Hernando said.

  “Of course,” Marcella agreed.

  Egan looked down at the young girl. She was asleep now. Her breathing was normal. Her chest rose and fell softly. “Her asthma is gone,” he said. “Her respiratory system is as healthy as yours or mine.”

  “How can we possibly repay you for what you’ve done for her?” Hernando asked.

  Egan put his hand on the man’s shoulder. “There is one thing I can think of,” he said.

  “Name it,” Hernando said.

  “Let me deal with Los Paveños.”

  CHAPTER 6

  COLONEL QUENTIN HALLIER stared at the scientists seated around the conference table. “What’s the consensus,” he asked. “Is it all there?”

  Dr. Nicholas Ginzberg and his research team from Dynamic Life Sciences had spent the last few hours pouring through the printouts downloaded from the flash drive the assault team had secured from young Tommy Moore. Two binders were marked TOP SECRET: EYES ONLY. The first was labeled Project Channeler, the second Project LEEDA. The lead scientist conferred with his colleagues, then nodded. “Yes, Colonel,” he said. “The data appear to be complete.”