XGeneration (Book 6): Greatest Good

by Brad Magnarella

  “Yeah, fine,” Janis said. “Can you just, you know.” She made a hurry it up gesture.

  Scott nodded quickly and, fingers on the multi-colored wires, closed his eyes.

  Janis peered over at the house whose truck they were about to jack. She had carried her teammates another mile from the bunker, honing in on a farmhouse whose occupants were asleep.

  A pair of dogs began to bark, tags rattling, rounding the side of the house. Janis shot into their minds and blacked out their protective instincts. Both the dogs and barking stopped.

  A moment later, the truck’s engine roared to life. Oil-scented air huffed from the vents.

  “Buckle up,” Scott said, jamming the gear shift into drive.

  Janis checked to make sure the home’s occupants, an elderly couple, were still asleep before telling Scott he could turn the lights on. Dull beams illuminated a double-track dirt road with barbed-wire fencing on either side. Scott switched the beams to bright and depressed the gas.

  “It’s not enough that we broke out,” Margaret said, “Now we’re using our God-given talents for criminal activities?”

  Janis sighed. Her sister just didn’t get it. “I already told you, we can have the truck returned along with an envelope full of cash. I know it doesn’t make it right, but there are much more important things at play here. First and foremost, we have to get back to Oakwood.”

  “I still don’t see what the problem is with having Agent Steel as director,” Margaret said.

  “We know you don’t,” Janis shot back.

  “Corporate boards are shuffled up all the time,” Margaret added, in her business-school, know-it-all tone. When no one responded, Margaret lowered her head and squinted down the dirt road. “Do we even know where we are?’

  “We’re fine,” Janis said.

  Using her ability to astrally project, she had determined the route to I-75 South and passed the information onto Scott. By Janis’s estimation, they would be in Oakwood in just under three hours. She wondered how much time it would take Agent Steel to give up her search around the bunker and call for a helicopter. Janis tried to access her mind, but Steel’s chip blunted the effort. At their distance from one another—two miles and growing—Janis couldn’t peek between the intervals in the chip’s processor. That put her and her teammates at a disadvantage. Hopefully, they would be able to get to Oakwood and their battle suits before Steel did.

  Margaret made an exasperated sound as the truck barreled over a pothole.

  “Can you at least tell me what the plan is?”

  “First, we find Kilmer,” Janis replied.

  “Is he even there?”

  Janis nodded tiredly. She wasn’t going to be able to put up with three hours of her sister second-guessing her. Scott and Tyler remained silent. Janis thought they were smart to do so.

  “Well, even if he is,” Margaret persisted, “what can he do? He has no executive authority.”

  “Not by himself,” Janis said. “But with the Program’s chief assets backing him…”

  “So I’m getting dragged into this mutiny?”

  “Would you rather we pull over and let you out?”

  Margaret gave no answer, as Janis knew she wouldn’t. Instead, her sister folded her arms petulantly. “We’ll deal with this once we get home. And I’ll tell you right now, Dad is not going to be happy.”

  Scott looked over at Janis, who nodded her head. As he slowed toward the wooden sign that announced their neighborhood—OAKWOOD—the inside of the truck fell silent. They had spent much of the three-hour drive debating their approach. Well, Margaret had debated. The rest of them had decided that, absent their battle suits, and with no way to enter the neighborhood without sounding an alarm, their safest entry would be inside a truck that Janis could shield.

  Scott made the turn, then let out his breath. He had expected a roadblock like the one that had greeted Jesse’s return. Instead, beyond the entrance sign, the main road rose unimpeded.

  “Don’t relax just yet,” Janis said. “They’re probably taking the extra precaution of checking the truck’s plate in case we’re some poor family who took a wrong turn.”

  Tyler stirred in the back. “The second it’s linked to that little town in south Georgia, though…”

  “We can expect company,” Janis finished.

  Scott kept to the posted thirty-mile-per-hour speed limit as the truck ascended the main street. Though most of the windows in the houses were dark, all of the porch lights were on. Another eleven o’clock weeknight in suburbia.

  “Can you feel anyone?” Scott asked Janis.

  “Oh, they’re awake,” she said, “and watching.”

  “What about Kilmer?” he asked.

  Janis’s brow creased over her closed eyes. “He’s home.”

  “Shouldn’t we stop at our homes first?” Margaret asked.

  “No,” Janis said.

  At Oakwood’s main intersection, Scott popped the left turn signal. This was surely where the agents would be awaiting them, he thought. But the truck’s headlights swept into the Meadows to reveal another empty street. He chanced a little more speed, passing the side street down to Janis’s house on the left and his own house on the right. Through his living room window, he caught the glow of the television. He pictured his dad sacked out on the couch, a world away.

  “I didn’t think we’d be back so soon,” Janis remarked.

  “Yeah, me neither,” Scott said.

  The street ahead of them rose, then fell, and soon they were passing the house where the mean Mrs. Thornton had once lived. Scott crept the truck to the end of the Meadows, rounded the cul-de-sac, and pulled to a stop in front of the two-story house that sat on top of the neighborhood’s command and control.

  He peered past Janis’s and Margaret’s turned heads to where a lighted walkway wound through a deep yard to a porch of plain columns. He checked the rear-view mirror.

  Still no agents.

  “Feels a lot like the first time we came here,” he whispered.

  “Which means we need to be ready for anything,” Janis whispered back.

  Scott nodded, even though he wouldn’t be able to do much without his laser helmet and battle suit. Until he could get his hands on those, he would be relying on Janis, Tyler, and to some extent, Margaret.

  They exited the truck and proceeded up the walkway. At the front door, all eyes turned to Janis.

  “Director Kilmer and his mother are inside,” Janis told them. “There are agents below ground, but they’re staying there for now.”

  Using his abilities, Scott felt around the door. With Kilmer presumably on lockdown, he expected the door to be magnetically sealed, at the very least. It wouldn’t be like the last time in terms of ease of entry. But he sensed nothing. As he reached for the knob, he felt Janis disengage the bolt. The knob yielded, and the door cracked open onto a dark living room.

  They all entered—Margaret, Scott suspected, to stay warm—and huddled in the foyer. Scott concentrated into the house’s wiring system and activated the light switches throughout the lower level. He returned to the sensation of Margaret gripping his upper arm until it hurt.

  “Hey, what are you…?”

  He followed her stare to the back of an antique couch in the living room where something shifted. Seconds later, a head of steely gray hair appeared above the couch’s back. Scott felt the electrical energy Tyler had been gathering dissipate as Director Kilmer stood and faced them. The knot in his black tie had been loosened, the top button of his white oxford unclasped. Kilmer inhaled, clearing the sleep from his nasal passages, and blinked twice.

  “You made it,” he said.

  To Tyler, Director Kilmer—or the former Director Kilmer, he guessed—looked and sounded like a parent ensuring that his children had adhered to his curfew. He even checked his watch.

  Janis was the first to step forward. “Is it true?” she asked. “Were you sacked?”

  Kilmer held his hands up. �
�We’ll get to that in a minute. Come around and have a seat. All of you.”

  As the team entered the living room, Kilmer folded up a blanket and set it atop a decorative pillow on one end of the couch. Tyler sat in one of the stiff antique chairs, Scott and Janis on the love seat, and Margaret in another chair like Tyler’s. Kilmer looked them over, the same weight of paternal concern in his eyes, before raising his pant legs at the thighs and having a seat himself. Tyler saw that he had kept his polished shoes on while he slept.

  “The first thing I want to do is tell you how sorry I am.” Tyler stiffened when he realized Kilmer was talking to him. “It was my job to protect Creed and I failed. I’ve informed your mother.”

  Forbidden communication for the past several days, Tyler had been unable to contact her. He was relieved to hear that Kilmer and not Agent Steel had been the one to explain to her what had happened.

  “How is she?” he asked.

  “One of the female agents is staying with her,” Kilmer answered. “All things considered, she’s doing all right.”

  “I’m the one to blame,” Janis said.

  Kilmer raised a hand. “No, Janis.”

  “In a lot of ways, Steel was right,” she went on. “If I hadn’t contacted Reginald, if I hadn’t given him the landing location, the assassination never would have happened. Creed would be alive, and you’d still be our director. If anyone should be apologizing, it’s me.”

  Her head was down as she spoke. Scott scooted closer and placed a hand on her back.

  “The danger was the Scale,” Kilmer said. “The danger was always the Scale. The proof is the last team of Champions and what’s happening now. Instead of spending the years between Programs rooting them out, I lobbied for this place. My thinking was that if I could hide you, if the Scale never knew of your existence, this team would be safe. I was so certain I’d succeed where my predecessor had not that I overlooked the obvious—that it would only take one person infiltrating the neighborhood to expose everyone.”

  “Reginald was trying to help us,” Janis said.

  She began making the same case she had made for the rest of them in the truck. How Reginald had been followed to the transfer site, how someone else had taken the actual shot that killed Creed. Despite the incredible amount of anger Tyler had balled up against this Reginald, he had found himself believing her. He looked over now to see Kilmer’s reaction.

  Kilmer cut Janis off mid sentence. “I know.”

  She stopped and stared for a second. “You know?”

  “I don’t take your insights lightly,” he said. “After a meeting with the president yesterday, I thought about what you had said, about Reginald being alive. I went into the archives and began sifting through the early months of ’61. That’s when the last Program came undone. I found Director Halstead’s final report, a communication he’d sent to me, President Kennedy, and a couple of others. Inside, he listed all of the Champions as either defected or deceased.”

  “Even Reginald Perry?” Scott asked.

  “Even Reginald.” Kilmer held up a finger. “But I didn’t stop there. I knew that Halstead had been communicating with Reginald by cable through a chain of banks during the time he was on the run. Though no transcript was kept of the cables themselves, I found a log of dates and times. His final cable was received at a branch in New York City.”

  “So?” Margaret said.

  “One day after the date on that final report,” Kilmer finished.

  “The info we found on Mr. Shine said he was from New York!” Scott blurted excitedly.

  “Exactly,” Kilmer said. “I concluded that in order to protect Reginald, Director Halstead had reported him dead, then given him new life as Adrian Shine, birthplace, New York, New York.”

  “But why would this Halstead need to lie to you?” Margaret asked skeptically.

  “After the Scale’s infiltration, there was no one he could trust. He felt he’d failed that team, just as I’ve…” He lowered his gaze. “Well, he didn’t want to take any chances with Reginald’s safety.”

  “So, where does that leave us?” Tyler asked.

  “I think we should hear what Janis and Reginald were planning,” Kilmer said.

  Before Janis could answer, a sudden wind shook the trees outside, becoming more and more violent. A bright light flooded the room’s curtains, highlighting everyone’s startled faces. It wasn’t until Tyler made out the whumping of blades that he understood what was happening.

  Agent Steel was touching down.

  35

  Janis stood as the helicopter settled in the cul-de-sac. She remembered the last time they had faced off here. The soon-to-be Champions had won, but barely. Problem was, now they were short two members. And although the remaining Champions were more battle ready than the last time, they were without their battle suits—and Steel knew their weaknesses.

  Janis performed a scan of the neighborhood and sensed the other agents converging on the house. That had been their plan all along, she thought. Get the Champions in one place and swarm.

  She covered the house with a protective field.

  Tyler stood now, too, his fists crackling with energy.

  “Do you have access to the sublevel?” Scott asked Kilmer. By the desperation in his voice, Janis knew he was trying to figure out a way to get to his suit, especially his laser-armed helmet.

  Janis struggled to come up with a plan for retrieving them.

  “I don’t think that will be necessary,” Kilmer replied to Scott.

  A commotion of shouts sounded outside. The spotlight over the window dimmed. With the flick of a finger, Janis spread the drapes from the living room’s large window. The neighborhood agents, dozens of them, had surrounded the helicopter, carbines aimed. It took Janis a moment to pinpoint the tall figure of Agent Steel. She was being pulled from the helicopter and handcuffed.

  “What in the heck is going on?” Janis asked.

  “Loyalty,” Kilmer said. “I spent years cultivating it among the agents. Steel didn’t. She just gave orders.”

  Janis looked from the scene outside, where Steel was being forced into the back of a car, to Kilmer.

  “So, does that mean…?”

  He nodded. “Unofficially, I’m still your director.”

  Without knowing she was going to do it, Janis stepped forward and threw her arms around his waist. Kilmer seemed to hesitate, but when he hugged her back it was the embrace of a favorite uncle.

  “But don’t you report to the president?” Margaret asked.

  “The director reports to the president, yes,” Kilmer said, releasing Janis. “Agent Steel believed that’s where her communications were being sent, but with a little help, they were rerouted to me.”

  “You can’t do that,” Margaret chided.

  “I have and I did,” Kilmer replied. “And a good thing. Through those communications, I learned that the president has been outlining steps to dismantle the Program. Agent Steel was to handle the cleaning process, making sure neither you nor your families had any recollection of what happened here. She was to create a black hole in your memories, your lives.”

  “Dismantle the Program?” Janis asked in alarm. The part about Agent Steel erasing their memories didn’t surprise her.

  “The president thinks the Cold War is winding down.” Kilmer glanced outside at where the chopper was lifting off again, the cars clearing out. He gave a thumbs up to whom Janis discerned to be Steel’s second in command before returning his focus to the group. “And with the Champions Program having flown under congressional radar for as long as it has, he doesn’t want to take any chances. There’s already been a security leak. More concerning to him is the prospect of an information leak. If word got out about the Program, he’d have a lot to answer for.”

  Janis nodded, remembering how Mr. Leonard had given her the name of a U.S. senator from Florida who headed a committee on intelligence. I can promise you that she, as well as her entire committee, is a
s much in the dark on this as anyone, he had told her. Consider it your nuclear option.

  “Should we tell him about your premonitions?” Scott asked, placing a reassuring hand on Janis’s shoulder.

  “Premonitions?” Kilmer said.

  Janis gripped Scott’s hand for comfort. “Nuclear explosions,” she said. “A lot of them.”

  “An attack?”

  “That’s what it feels like.”

  “Let’s back up for a minute.” Kilmer sat down. “Why don’t you tell us all what you and Reginald had planned.”

  Janis took her seat beside Scott as the others settled down. Margaret, who had already heard the story, sighed and looked at her watch. She mumbled something about a never-ending night.

  “The leader of the Scale is a woman who everyone calls the Witch,” Janis said. “She can see the future. I mean, I get flashes sometimes, but she gets a feature film, apparently. Once someone takes an action, she can key into it, follow it to its most probable outcome. When the action changes, so does the outcome.”

  “Probably how they were able to recruit Jesse so efficiently,” Kilmer said.

  “Reginald was to have killed one of us,” Janis continued. “That was the price for receiving more of the drug they give their members.”

  She felt Tyler’s mind torque in confusion and realized neither he nor her sister knew about their latent cancers.

  I’ll explain later, she said to both of them.

  “Anyway, without a kill, he would have been denied the drug.”

  “So you and he coordinated to fake your own death?” Kilmer prompted.

  “Right. After the shot, I was to fall and then plant images in the Witch’s vision that would leave no doubt in her mind as to my demise. That was only the first step. After Reginald received the drug, he was going to get back to me, to the rest of us, and propose the second step.”

  “Which was…?” Margaret asked tiredly.