The harmonic oscillation in the generator built up in a crescendo of ascending frequencies of seen, audible and unseen varieties. While the visible aspect showed crisscrossing wavy lines of energy going so fast that all he could see was the pattern created in between, the audible aspect grew in dissonance to the point of being deafening.
Dr. Bridges watched with fascination, unable to take his eyes off the effect building before him. Somewhere behind him he heard a pounding sound. He glanced over to see Agent Street pounding on the glass, urging him to shut it all down.
Even after everything that had happened that day, Dr. Bridges couldn’t do that. Somehow the plane crashes and tower collapses had affected his experiment and he was determined to find out why. Could the data show that influences outside the laboratory affected the results? It could take them back to square one, wasting months of development. If anything, the events of the day solidified in Lleyton Bridges’ mind that this project was important to the security of the country. He refused to allow an anomaly to dismantle the project. He heard Agent Street, but was determined to continue. He waved at Street and mouthed the word “Wait” at him before returning to the simulation.
The simulation continued and Dr. Bridges set up two devices to automatically record and continually back up the data that was coming in. He checked the settings and stepped back to watch. The simulation was replaying the oscillations from the 5:00 event earlier today and was at 10:00 with three minutes to go. So far so good. There was nothing odd yet, and that matched the data. The tricky part would come at 10:03.
The generator’s vibration continued to grow in intensity and the colors fluctuated wildly in the rift chamber in kaleidoscopic fashion. Lleyton walked over to the rift chamber to observe the results, checking the time readout as he did. 10:01:21...
Lleyton stared into the rift chamber, not quite sure what he was seeing. The mirrors inside appeared to be showing a reflection of the lab, but something was different there. Agent Street looked like he was right next to Lleyton, expression of disbelief on his face. That wasn’t right. Agent Street was back there behind the...Oh no.
“Agent Street! Don’t push any buttons!” The agent was inside the lab, a shattered window behind him. The deafening noise inside the lab must have masked his entrance. He was currently at the master control console. Unfortunately, the noise in the lab must have also masked his warning. Agent Street appeared befuddled by the controls, but that didn’t stop him. He pulled out his gun from his holster and fired at the master control. A flash blew out from the console knocking Agent Street to the floor.
Lleyton Bridges glanced toward the auxiliary readout on the rift chamber. Damn! Street had just caused a feedback loop and there was nothing he could do to stop it now. In less than a minute the entire building would be nothing more than a hole in the ground. Glancing back at the rift chamber, he saw his double gesturing for him to come towards him. It finally dawned on Dr. Bridges what was happening here.
Dr. Bridges ran over to the disoriented Agent Street. Grabbing him by the elbow and shoulder, he pulled the agent up and toward the rift chamber. Luckily, the agent was disoriented enough that he didn’t struggle. Lleyton saw the time as he entered the chamber. 10:02:56. Once they were inside, he punched the emergency activation switch inside the chamber—he sure was glad Frankie had insisted on that switch right now—and put his hand on the mirror to match his partner on the other side of the glass. The other Lleyton Bridges backed away and suddenly the mirror wasn’t there anymore. Dr. Bridges with his Agent Street burden stumbled and fell over with an overwhelming sense of disorientation and landed on the floor.
Dr. Bridges felt something and began purging his stomach in the nearby work sink. Agent Street didn’t make it that far. He was throwing up just outside the rift chamber. The other Agent Street had found the janitor’s mop bucket for him.
Wasn’t there another him? Where was the other Dr. Bridges? He scanned the room and saw him at the auxiliary control panel next to the rift chamber. The rift chamber was dark, and the other Dr. Bridges turned around after shutting the equipment down. “It’s fried. We’ll have to reconstruct it.” He frowned down at the newcomers. “I’m glad you made it, but I can’t get you back right now.”
Bridges gulped and tried to keep from throwing up again. “I’ll help you. We should be able to get this thing going in a few weeks.”
The other Dr. Bridges continued to frown. “I’ve been looking this over all day, and called Street over here this evening to have a look. Did you...not know?”
“No,” said Bridges, “I thought something was wrong with my equipment. Nothing happened in our world at 10:03.”
“Well something happened here. My calculations are showing me that the farther we get from the moment of departure, the harder it will be. I’m sorry, but there are no guarantees that we can re-establish a connection.”
The other Agent Street walked over to the nearby TV screen and turned it towards them. “Not only that, but I’m pretty sure this world will have a different political reality than what you’re used to. You’re probably stuck here for a long time.”
On the screen they saw the White House, or the remains of it. At the end of the driveway was a smoking debris field. The East Wing stood, but the central house and West Wing were in a state of flaming rubble. Tear-streaked reporters were on the scene, but the sound was muted. Dr. Bridges glanced over at his Agent Street who closed his eyes and shook his head.
“Is that 10:03...?” Asked Bridges.
“Yes. Welcome to Hell in America,” answered his twin.
Getting Home
“Ah, Hell!” Nicholas yelled, kicking and shattering a nearby mirror. The scene in the south end of the warehouse in front of him was a mess in every possible way. There was debris from the explosion everywhere, with shards of glass and chunks of concrete littering the ground.
Then there were the bodies—what was left of them. One of the Smiths was gone. It was hard to tell in the confusion which one, but the remains of that Smith and the other guy that didn’t make it through the mirror were contributing to the mess all over the south-end warehouse.
And then there was the scene itself. There would be no sliding under the radar with this one. The mess was too big and the business they had destroyed was too busy for this one to go unnoticed. Already, sirens could be heard outside.
Only one thing for it. Leave no trace. “Protocol Z,” he called out to the team. “Hop to it. I’d say we have less than two minutes.” Nicholas signaled the drivers of the vehicles they left behind at the entrance as the team went to work. Outside, he heard an odd crunching sound off towards the parking lot, which could only be the vehicle left behind by his opposition being imploded. Soon it wouldn’t exist, and in two minutes this place wouldn’t either.
Nicholas walked up as the last charge was set by a junior agent and he thumbed the control and activated the voice command. “Agent Nicholas Davidson, Protocol Z, authorization 81779.” The light blinked green then red. They had ninety seconds to clear out. “We’re hot!” he called, “Clear!” There was no movement. He and the junior agent were the last ones. “Let’s go.”
They jogged out and to the waiting SUV and drove off. Curious as always, Nicholas turned to watch as the warehouse curved in on itself just before they turned a corner. In less than a minute all that would be left was a black spot on the ground.
Time to regroup.
Flies in the Soup
Dr. Bridges sighed as he sat down at the desk in this…cell. It was hard to call it anything else. They had decorated it and called it an apartment, but it was hard to deny the original purpose of these rooms. They…the ones who had put him here had converted a bank of four adjoining cells into a two bedroom apartment seven levels underground with twenty-four hour supervision.
Technically there wasn’t a room on earth that could keep him bound as long as he had access to a few tricks, but staying here at least provided him the
chance that some day he might return home.
His roommate and companion for the last fifteen years was working out in another room. Old Agent Street liked to keep himself in shape and ready for anything.
Old…Dr. Bridges glanced toward a nearby mirror without actually looking. He was one to talk. The old body was definitely getting creaky. Still, the last checkup had been good. After the other Dr. Bridges passed away from heart disease, he kept a diligent watch on his own health.
He picked up the newspaper on the desk. Truck Explosion Outside Local Hotel the headline read. He glanced through the next two paragraphs. What are you up to now, Penelope? He shook his head. How far did that girl fall? It was hard to even consider her a daughter. The girl was his daughter, but he had little contact with her due to his years being sequestered. Their relationship had soured even more since the other Bridges passed. If you could even call it a relationship any more.
He flipped a page when he heard a knock on the doorframe. “Yes,” he called, looking around. Well, think of the devil. There she is in all of her self-righteous glory. To think that creature came from him and Tricia…
He consciously calmed his thoughts and face and stood up to greet her. “Hello dear. I can’t remember the last time I saw you. You’re looking particularly sharp today.”
“Can it, old man.” Her face, normally so composed, so controlled, now betrayed her feelings. “I’m not here for a social call.”
“Oh?”
“I’ve got a job for you, and I think you’ll like it.”
Bridges frowned for a moment. What could that possibly be? “You have everything you need to portal anywhere on this world and another. What could you need from me? Haven’t I done enough? When are you going to let me go home?”
He patted his chest, a feeling of wrongness persisting there as always.
Another face popped around the corner, the aged but toned face of his old friend Agent Street. “Is everything okay here?” he asked. The man was ready to do something reckless. By now, Lleyton Bridges could detect those times where Street was ready to do something, anything. It was that attitude that put them in this mess in the first place.
Lleyton waved his hand, hoping to calm his friend down. “We’re okay, Street. Penelope was just…What WERE you just doing, Penelope?”
“Bringing you a gift. I’ll be right back.” She walked off to her right, down the hall to the entrance to this brig.
Street waited for her to leave and walked in. “I could kill her for you, it would be quick.” He smiled, joking, but not by much.
“Thanks,” Lleyton answered back with a hint of a smile. “But you know where that would get us. We’d probably find ourselves stranded in a strange place with no way to get home.”
“It’s not so bad with the right company, old friend.”
“But that girl…I feel like the guy who invented the atom bomb.”
“That was her, all the way. You can’t blame yourself.”
“I know, I just can’t help wondering what the other Penny is like—the one I left behind. This world had a hand in shaping this Penelope.”
They both heard a high-pitched sound from the hallway and turned to face it. In a moment, Penelope walked in, holding the hand of a girl and carrying a younger boy. It had been so long since Lleyton had seen children that he couldn’t begin to guess their ages—nine to eleven and four to seven? What was this all about? He was about to question Penelope when he saw it. A look in the girl’s eye that he had only ever seen in one other person, his deceased wife Tricia.
Tears already beginning to well up he began to ask a question but the words didn’t come out. There weren’t any words.
Penelope smiled, as if winning some small battle. She set the boy down, indicated for Lleyton to come forward and turned her head to the children. “Kids, I want you to meet someone. This man is your grandfather. Grandpa Bridges.”
The girl looked back at her questioningly. “Mom, I thought Grandpa Bridges was dead. You were always so sad about that every September.”
Penelope was doing her best acting job now. She smiled endearingly at the girl and stroked a piece of hair behind her ear. “I always thought so too, Kira, but we just found out that he was hidden away for all these years. It was top secret.” She said the words “top secret” with a bit of a whisper and both kids’ eyes widened.
She introduced the kids by name and informed Lleyton and the kids that she was required somewhere else and they needed to stay here together until she could come get them later.
Lleyton’s head was spinning a bit, but some pieces were starting to come together. These had to be his grandkids. There was no question about that. But there was no way that Penelope was their mother. That meant that Penny must be involved in this somehow. He looked back at the newspaper headline. She could be at the hotel. They wouldn’t bring her here.
Penelope stood up to leave while Lleyton was giving the boy—Sisco—a hug.
“Excuse me,” Lleyton called to her back. “Please wait a moment.” An impatient expression crossed her face and she indicated that she would be in the hallway.
Lleyton asked Street to watch the kids for a few minutes and excused himself while Street was lifting the boy up by his elbows. The kids were distracted for the moment. He stepped into the hallway.
“What is this all about, Penelope?” He asked.
“Just some childcare for a few hours, Pops.” The woman was being dismissive and began to turn away. “It’s no big deal.”
“I beg to differ,” Lleyton said. “It’s a huge deal. Those aren’t your kids and I know they wouldn’t be here if there wasn’t something going on.”
She stopped and turned to look at him with a severe expression. “Whatever is going on is none of your business.”
“But…” She put her hand up to stop him.
“None. Of. Your. Business, old man. Stay out of it and count your blessings that you have this moment.”
Lleyton bit his tongue. He felt a strange sense of anger come over him. It was a feeling he didn’t think he’d ever felt before. However, he was very aware at the moment that there were larger things at stake than his own issues.
“What did I ever do to you?” he said under his breath.
“You lived!” she snapped.
Bridges watched as she left and was met at the corner by an agent—Nicholas? “I have news,” he heard the agent say.
Penelope looked back toward the doorway where Bridges stood and grabbed Nicholas to push him around the corner. Bridges pretended to walk toward the next door in the hallway so he could listen. “You fool! Those are the kids. If they see you, how do we explain then? Think!”
“I didn’t know. I’ve been offworld until just a minute ago. I have bad news. We lost Smith and Davidson. We think they went to the Arizona base.”
“...And Arizona base went off-line a couple hours ago.”
“Yeah,” Nicholas’ fading voice said. “We have some flies in the soup.” The door slammed. Dr. Bridges looked around the corner and the corridor was empty, just Chuck at the desk on the other side of the door waving back at him.
He went to his bedroom and opened the closet. There was a full-length mirror on the inside of the door. It was time to take care of some business.
Wake Up Again
Smith woke up with two faces looking down at him. He was in a room he didn’t recognize, but it looked like it was outfitted for a medical emergency. He grunted and started to sit up and winced at the backlash of pain behind his temples.
Marie produced a glass of water and some pills. He grabbed and consumed them enthusiastically. “Ugh. Are we secure?”
“Yes,” Marie replied, “Thanks to you and our new friend over here.”
Smith glanced over at Nik Davidson. He’d been steady in a tough situation. Davidson was smiling at him at the moment. Something about that felt wrong. “Good job Nik,” he said.
“You too. Marie and
Hoppy recorded you. That was quite a scene.”
Smith grunted. “Just a few toys I’ve picked up on my travels.” Nik looked like he expected more. “Look, Nik. You’re a good guy and you’ve even been helpful, but you’re still a civilian and I’m not allowed to talk about some things.”
Nik didn’t look happy, but that was too bad. Smith turned to Marie. “What’s our status?”
“We’ve got four guys in the brig and the base is considered out of action at the moment. We sent a couple of agents to the middle of Kansas, shut some others down, shaved some skin off a couple of guys and they believed us. Hoppy’s doing all the talking. They gave him 48 hours to fix it before they do something.”
“What about…”
Marie seemed to read his mind. “Jones? He’s still alive.”
Smith really did sit up this time. It only hurt as bad as a sledgehammer to the head. “You managed to save Jones?”
Marie nodded back. “Yes. He’ll be all right in time. He’s cooling his heels in his own cell right now.”
She seemed noncommittal, but Smith hated to think he killed his friend, or at least a version of him. He was a little torn, but let it go. “Okay. Talk to me. For the first time, we’re in a position where we might have the ability to do something. Thoughts about our next move?”
It was silent for a moment; finally Nik spoke up.
“Didn’t we come here to get my family back? Is that ever going to be the plan? I just want to see Penny and the kids again.”
Smith knew Nik’s family was a priority, but needed everything on the table. He was just about to coolly dismiss Nik’s plea when Hoppy strode in from the next room.
“Penny? Her maiden name didn’t happen to be Penelope Bridges, did it?”
Nik glanced at Smith and back at Hoppy.
“Uh, yeah.”
Hoppy grimaced as he looked at Agent Smith.
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