Nine Lives

by Gary Winston Brown

  “No,” Egan replied calmly. “We definitely don’t want to see that happen. To tell you the truth, we were kind of hoping you’d just give yourself up. We’re on a bit of a deadline.”

  Elton stared at Egan. He couldn’t believe the man’s matter-of-fact reply. “Are you crazy?” he asked.

  “Not at all,” Egan said. “I’m quite sane. You I’m not so sure about.”

  Elton acknowledged the identification on Jordan’s vest. “She’s FBI,” he said. “What are you?”

  Egan smiled. “Well, my birthday’s in October, so I guess that makes me a Libra.”

  Jordan took another step forward, trying to close the distance between her and the gunman and better her chance for a clean headshot. “Who are you? What do you want with my children?”

  “You ruined everything,” Elton said. “She should have been mine. Just like all the others.”

  Jordan looked confused. “Who should have been yours?”

  “Carrie Schumacher.”

  Carrie Schumacher, Jordan thought. The young mother who had been abducted from the grocery store parking lot. Jordan recalled the case. She wasn’t even officially part of the investigation. She had been enjoying lunch with a friend, Detective Catherine Juhasz of the City of Pomona police department when the call came in. A hiker on a trail in the San Gabriel Mountains had reported passing someone who matched the description of the missing woman. When Catherine apologized for having to cut their time short to follow up on the lead, Jordan offered to help, and Catherine happily accepted. At the police station, Catherine presented Jordan with the only evidence they had recovered at the scene: a cloth shopping bag, found in the Foodmart parking lot, which contained a credit card receipt bearing Carrie’s name and dated on the day of her reported abduction. Jordan examined the bag and the receipt, connected with the woman’s energy signature, and told Catherine everything she had seen during the moment of her psychic connection: Carrie’s assault, the assailant’s van, passing the hiker on the trail, the cabin in the woods. An arrest was made the following day. She recalled the accused’s name.

  “You’re Elton Mannafort,” Jordan said.

  Elton beamed. “You know me.”

  Elton’s multiple personality interjected. “I told you this was a bad idea.”

  “Hardly. Who’s got her kid?”

  “There’s two of them and only one of you. You don’t stand a chance.”

  “She knows if she tries anything the little shit is dead.”

  “Maybe they’re not alone.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Maybe there are more cops outside, got the place surrounded.”

  “They’d have made a move by now.”

  “You don’t know that for sure.”

  “I’ll tell you what I do know.”

  “What’s that?”

  “None of them are leaving here alive.”

  Egan spoke. “I really hate to break up your riveting conversation… or whatever the hell this is… but can we get back to why we’re all here? You need to let the kids go.”

  “Not going to happen,” Elton replied.

  “I beg to differ.”

  Elton smiled, looked at Jordan. “Say goodbye to the little prick.”

  Jordan screamed. “No!”

  “I don’t think so,” Egan said. He raised his hand.

  Elton pulled the trigger… or tried to. He stared at the weapon. His hand and finger were paralyzed, locked in position around the gun. He looked up at Egan.

  The palm of the man’s hand glowed rose-red. The same strange pink light he had seen emanating from the living room before he had entered the room with the boy now surrounded him.

  “What’s the hell?” Elton said.

  “Get your son, Agent Quest,” Egan said. “I’ll deal with this.”

  Jordan stepped forward, pulled Aiden safely away from the madman. She yanked the hood off his head. “Are you okay, honey?” she asked.

  “Yeah, Mom,” Aiden replied. “I’m good.”

  “Where is your sister?”

  Aiden pointed down the hall. “Back there. In the bedroom.”

  Jordan’s eyes never left Elton. She kept her weapon trained on the man. “On my belt, Aiden,” she said. “The pocketknife. You see it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Take it out. Open the blade. Hand it to me.”

  Aiden did as he was told.

  Jordan took the knife in one hand and cut away the zip cuff that bound her son’s wrists. The nylon restraint fell to the floor. She handed the knife to the boy. “Get your feet, honey.”

  Aiden took the knife, released himself.

  “Did he do this to your sister, too?” Jordan asked.

  Aiden nodded. “Yeah, Mom.”

  Fueled by hatred, Jordan could feel the heat in her face. Her blood pressure was through the roof. Her hands shook. She clamped both hands around the weapon, stepped forward, steadied herself, then pressed the muzzle of her gun against Elton’s temple. “Go free your sister,” Jordan said. “Close the door and stay in the room. Under no circumstances do you come out until I come for you. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, Mom,” the boy said.

  “Good. Now go.”

  Aiden hesitated at first. He stared at Egan, mesmerized, his brain trying to find a logical reason for the incredible sight, couldn’t. The man glowed.

  “It’s all right, son,” Egan said. “Listen to your mother. Everything’s fine now. Go take care of your sister. We’ve got this.”

  “Y-yes, sir,” Aiden replied. He left the room, ran down the hall. Jordan heard the door close.

  Egan spoke. “Put down the gun down, Agent.”

  Jordan’s palms were damp with sweat. She gripped the gun tighter, forced the muzzle harder against Elton’s head, watched him wince in pain as he turned away. With Aiden out of the room and her children now safe, a tsunami of anger came over her. The desire for vengeance was overpowering, too much to bear. She was losing her battle with self-control. “You took my kids,” she said.

  Egan watched her carefully. “Don’t do it,” he warned. “He’s not worth it.”

  “You attacked you Marissa,” Jordan said.

  “Stand down, Agent,” Egan said.

  “Bound my children like animals. You sick, psychopathic, waste of skin.”

  Elton pushed back against the weapon, stared at Jordan. He smiled. “I’ve never done kids before,” he said. “Yours would have been fun.”

  Jordan screamed. As she pulled the trigger, she felt her arm being pulled away. Egan used his abilities to direct the weapon away from Mannafort’s head. The gunshot reported off the cabin walls.

  Jordan stared vacantly at the commander. Emotionally drained, her hand fell weakly to her side.

  Egan took the gun out of her hand, holstered it for her. “Go get your kids,” he said quietly.

  Jordan fought back the tears.

  “It’s all right,” Egan said. “I’ve got this.”

  Jordan said nothing. She turned and walked down the hallway.

  “Agent Quest,” Egan called out.

  Jordan turned back, stared at the DARPA soldier. “Yes?”

  “Cover the children’s ears.”

  Jordan looked at Elton Mannafort. He was no longer smiling.

  She nodded. “Thank you.”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  Jordan entered the room, closed the door.

  Egan turned to Elton. He pointed to a chair in the corner of the room. “Take a seat,” he said.

  Elton looked down at the gun in his hand, then at Egan.

  Egan surmised his intention. “You could try,” he said, “but I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t end very well for you.”

  Elton smiled. He held out his hand. He had intended to drop the weapon to the floor, realized he couldn’t. The weapon was stuck in his grip.

  “The chair,” Egan said.

  Elton walked across the room, sat in the chair. “Exactly what
are you planning to—”

  Egan raised his hand, pointed his palm at the man. “Bye bye,” he said.

  His body no longer under his control, Elton fought unsuccessfully against the incredible energy force that had taken over his body. He watched in horror as his hand raised on its own and placed the muzzle of the Walther PPK under his chin. “No!” he cried. “No! No! No!” He felt the pressure of the weapon against his skin as the gun forced his head back. Elton screamed as he watched his finger pull the trigger.

  Bang!

  The dead man slumped down in the chair, gun in hand, eyes staring at the floor.

  Egan walked to the bedroom, knocked on the door. “Can I come in?”

  “Yes?” Jordan replied.

  “You guys okay?”

  “We are.”

  Egan entered the room. “It’s over,” he said.

  Outside in the woods, Egan heard the crack of dry twigs. He parted the dusty drape, looked out the window. “Good guys are here,” he announced. “We have to go.”

  Emma looked up at her mother. She was about to cry.

  Jordan rallied her children. “Listen to me,” she said. Aiden put his arm around his sister. Emma sniffled, stopped crying. “This man and I have to go. You guys will have to stay here. But it’ll just be for a minute, I promise.”

  Egan checked the forest again. “Six-man team, closing fast,” he said anxiously. “Now would be a real good time to zap our butts out of here Agent Quest, if you catch my drift.”

  “I can’t explain what’s going on right now,” Jordan said to her children. “But you cannot, under any circumstances, tell the police we were here.”

  “But that doesn’t make any sense,” Aiden said. “You are the police.”

  “Please, guys,” Jordan pleaded. “Just trust me on this, okay? Not a single word.”

  The children nodded. “Okay,” they said.

  “I’ll be home tomorrow,” Jordan said. “I love you both. Now stay in the room and don’t leave. The police will be here any second.”

  “Love you too, Mom,” the children answered.

  Jordan and Egan rushed out of the bedroom. “Hurry!” Egan said.

  Footsteps on the landing.

  “Take my hand!” Egan said.

  Jordan held tight.

  “Ready?”

  “Ready.”

  A flash of pink light lit up the room.

  The cabin door crashed open. “FBI!” the agents yelled.

  As the Hostage Rescue Team swarmed the small building, Agent Shelby called out. “We have the children, Commander. They’re fine.”

  Gibson saw the dead body sitting in the chair. “Elton Mannafort, I presume,” he said. He instructed his men. “UNSUB’s dead. Get the children out of here. I don’t want them to see this.”

  “Copy that,” Shelby replied.

  Gibson looked at the gun in Elton Mannafort’s hand and shook his head. He assessed the scene for what it appeared to be. “Suicide,” he said. “Too bad. I’d have preferred to put the bullet in your head myself.”

  CHAPTER 42

  IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROOM, pink sparks shimmered and danced in the darkness, followed by a brilliant flash of light. Hernando looked away, shielded his eyes from the incredible spectacle.

  Minutes after they had disappeared, Commander Egan and the FBI agent had teleported back to the orphanage.

  The return trip had left Jordan a little shaky. She teetered. Egan held her arm, steadied her. “You okay?” he asked.

  Jordan nodded. “I think so.”

  “Hell of a trip, huh?”

  “You’re telling me.”

  Egan teased. “I have a suggestion if you’re up for it.”

  “What’s that?” Jordan asked.

  “Ever been to China?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Let’s take a stroll along the Great Wall. We could be there in seconds. Unless you’d prefer to go somewhere else.”

  Jordan smiled. “Very funny, Commander. I think my atoms have been jostled around enough for one lifetime.”

  Egan let go of her arm. “Hey, you can’t blame a guy for trying.”

  “Thank you,” Jordan said.

  “For?”

  “What you did back there.”

  Egan shrugged. “You were prepared to kill him. I couldn’t allow you to carry that on your conscience for the rest of your life.”

  Jordan nodded. “I would have shot him if you hadn’t stopped me.”

  “He’s a predator,” Egan said. “He got what he had coming to him.”

  “Ex-predator now.”

  Egan nodded. “As long as your children never tell anyone what they saw, Mannafort’s death will be written up as a suicide. No one will be any the wiser.”

  “Don’t worry,” Jordan said. “They won’t.”

  “Good,” Egan said. “By the way, Aiden seems like a great kid. He handled himself exceptionally well under very difficult circumstances.”

  “He is. They both are.”

  Egan smiled. “You know, had the situation been different, I think you and I could have been great friends.”

  “Who says we can’t be?” Jordan replied.

  Egan walked to the window, looked outside. “They do,” he said. The DARPA commandos had seen the flash of light inside the building. They were advancing from their positions.

  “There is that little matter we have to deal with however,” Jordan said.

  “My surrender.”

  Jordan nodded. “I’m afraid so.”

  Hernando had been sitting quietly in the corner listening to the conversation. He spoke. “Hi Hernando. Hi Ben. How’s the shoulder? It hurts like hell, but thanks for asking. You need anything? No, I’m good.”

  Egan laughed. “Sorry, my friend. I didn’t mean to ignore you.”

  Jordan walked over to the old man, kneeled, checked the wound. “How are you feeling, sir?” she asked.

  “I won’t be playing catch with the kids for a while, but I’ll survive,” Hernando answered.

  Jordan helped him to his feet.

  From outside, Hallier’s voice boomed. “Last chance, Commander!”

  “It’s time,” Jordan said.

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “You’re surrendering on your own accord, Commander. Everything’s going to be fine.”

  Egan walked to the door. “You better walk me out,” he said.

  “My pleasure,” Jordan said. She joined him in the doorway.

  “If you think you’re leaving without me you’ve got another thing coming,” Hernando said. He shuffled over, joined them. “Thank you, my friend,” he said. “Marcella, the children and I owe you everything.”

  “Just take care of one another,” Egan replied. “That’s payment enough for me.”

  “Ready?” Jordan asked.

  Egan took a deep breath. “Ready.”

  Jordan opened the door.

  Egan looked down. Red dots from the DARPA commando’s weapons floated across his chest. The laser lights had acquired their target.

  The trio stepped out the door onto the front steps of the building.

  Hallier called out, “On your knees!”

  Egan complied. The commandos moved in.

  “Easy,” Jordan said. She watched the DARPA team take their prisoner into custody. “He’s not resisting.”

  Hallier stepped forward. In his hand he carried a small aluminum case.

  “That a present for me?” Egan asked. “Really, you shouldn’t have.”

  Hallier opened the case and removed a small metal canister. The device resembled a smoke grenade.

  “What’s that?” Egan asked.

  Hallier removed the safety pin, released the trigger. A clear gas escaped from the canister’s nozzle.

  Egan suddenly felt different, weaker.

  “The antidote,” Hallier replied. “It reverses the effects of your artificial augmentation.”

  Egan felt light-headed, woozy. “Damn, that’s g
ood stuff,” he said. He was having difficulty standing.

  “Take him to the truck,” Hallier ordered. “Call for an extraction.”

  The commandos assisted Egan as he shuffled across the compound. “Wait,” he said.

  The commandos stopped, held fast to their prisoner.

  Egan looked back at Hernando. “Go to the daycare and get your kids, my friend,” he said. “Give little Teresa a hug for me.”

  Hernando smiled. “I will.”

  “And don’t come back,” Egan warned. “It’s not safe for you here anymore. Go to the church in San Jose. Start over.”

  Hernando nodded. “We will.”

  “Good enough,” Egan said. Satisfied, he turned to the DARPA commandos. “All right, boys. Move out.”

  As the team headed to the truck Jordan’s phone rang. She took the call. “Hello?”

  “Jordan, it’s Andrew Dunn. I have good news.”

  Jordan smiled. She knew what the director was about to say. “Yes, sir?”

  “We’ve neutralized the threat. Aiden and Emma are safe.”

  “Thank God,” Jordan replied. She choked back her tears. Her emotional response to the director’s news was real enough. The thought of losing her children, coupled with the events of the last few hours, had been oppressively hard on her.

  “HRT is bringing them back to L.A. now,” Dunn said. “I’ll make sure they’re there to greet you when you arrive home.”

  “Thank you, Director,” Jordan replied. “I’d really appreciate that.”

  “You’re welcome,” Dunn said. “See you soon.” He ended the call.

  Chris walked over to his partner. “You okay, J?” he asked.

  Jordan smiled. “I am now.”

  CHAPTER 43

  THE JET TOUCHED DOWN at Joint Forces Training Base Los Alamitos. Jordan and Chris exited the aircraft behind Hallier and watched as Commander Egan, hands and feet shackled, was assisted out of the plane by the DARPA soldiers and led to a waiting prisoner transfer vehicle. Armed guards maintained over watch, keeping their weapons trained on him, even for the short walk to the armored car. During the flight they had given the commander a bright orange jumpsuit to wear and assigned three soldiers as his primary escorts. Each man wore a special device on his wrist. The detail maintained a six-foot perimeter around him.