“All right, have it your way,” James replied. “But remember, five minutes max.”
When the elevator arrived at the ground floor, and the doors opened, James pointed down the hall away from the garage. "Down that way." He reached down to his left ankle and removed a small derringer, but Alp held her hands up.
"He's my brother," she repeated. "I won't need that. I'll see you in just a couple of minutes."
It didn’t take long for Damba to find a way to slip away from Jasper. After all, the two mercenaries were busy neutralizing Falcon Lair’s security. It was during a particularly frantic struggle with four guards who suddenly appeared from nowhere that Damba decided to take his leave.
If they wanted my help, they should have given me one of their weapons, Damba thought, trying to convince himself that running away wasn't a cowardly thing to do. They have their mission, and I have mine, he thought.
Since arriving at Falcon Lair, Damba had felt the invisible bond with Alp. He'd not seen the mysterious blue cord since that first night on the boat, but the feeling of closeness and connection had become a constant companion, especially at certain times...
like now. It felt almost like their two hearts were connected. At times he could swear he could detect the beating of her heart.
He waited for his tall babysitter to become involved with fighting two of the guards, sweeping the feet from under one of them as he blocked a head crushing blow from the other.
That’s my cue, Damba thought as he quietly slipped around the corner of the building where he paused for a moment to get his bearings. Alp’s heart rate had suddenly skyrocketed. She must be in trouble, but where? There the answer came. In that direction. Damba followed his instincts with a growing feeling of dread. Would he be in time?
Through the fog of his drug-induced sleep, Mel felt the return of one of his guards. With his head still down, he viewed the man's two legs through slitted eyelids, watched as one hand made its way to the knife strapped to his right leg, saw the gleaming metal as it slipped from the sheath.
I guess this is it, Mel thought. He could feel the tight bonds of rope that kept him tied to the straight-back chair and realized he was too weak to do anything. The lack of control of the situation was worse than any torture he could imagine. Mel watched as the legs disappeared from view as the guard stepped behind him. Would it be a slice to the throat or would the man stab him in the back, going between the slats of the chair and between the ribs? Or maybe he'd go for a kidney instead.
He tightened his body, trying to prepare himself as best as he could for the blow that would end his life. So he was shocked beyond belief when he suddenly felt the blade pass between his wrists and a second later his hands were free from their bonds. A moment later, he felt a similar sensation around his legs followed by the words, "You're on your own now."
What had just happened? Was he dreaming? Would he soon awaken to find himself still tied to the chair?
He sat there for another minute or two listening. Nothing. No sound of anyone returning, only the quiet lub-dub of his heart beating. After another minute he raised his head and looked around, stretching his aching neck as he did so. He rubbed his wrists until he could feel his hands again, then reached down to finish untying his feet. His head still felt like it was filled with cotton balls and sawdust, but at least he was still alive; alive and needing to pee badly. He stood up slowly, his legs feeling as weak as two strands of overcooked spaghetti. He stumbled to the corner of the room where he leaned against one wall and relieved his bladder. He zipped up his pants and turned around to get a better look at his surroundings, but continued to lean against the wall for support.
Now what? Where the hell was he, and why in the world had his guards suddenly released him? He finally decided it made more sense to take advantage of the fortunate turn of events and get the hell away from his prison. Maybe he'd find answers out there... wherever out there was.
He stumbled towards the door, his legs still weak but slowly regaining their strength. He opened the door and peered out into the hallway in time to see a large man dressed in black, carrying another equally large man over his shoulder, trudging down the hall in the opposite direction. Mel waited until the man had disappeared down the hall before venturing out. He glanced in the other direction before deciding to follow behind the man.
He'd made it only a dozen yards down the passage before he came to a second doorway. Was this from where the man had come? Probably, he decided, peering into the room. His curiosity got the best of him, and he decided to investigate.
He entered the room and looked around until his gaze landed on a viewing window with a second door cracked open. Mel stepped cautiously into the second room. What in the world had gone on here, he wondered? The room looked like it had been trashed by someone who'd had a massive temper tantrum. That's when he discovered the two bodies sprawled out on the floor a few feet from each other.
He walked over to the first one, a middle-aged man with a paunch dressed in a lab coat and black slacks. Mel pushed the body over with his foot to get a better view of his face. He looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t place where he’d seen the man before. He stepped over the body to study the other form, then stepped back as his gaze lighted on the crazed look of the second man. At least it appeared to be a man, though the distortion of his face also suggested this had been the one who’d torn up the room.
What had been going on here? But even as he asked the question, the answer came to him. Some kind of weird experiment. Despite being well-trashed, the decor suggested some sort of medical lab.
So, the experiments continue, Mel thought. He was still contemplating his surroundings when he heard footsteps of someone running down the hall, getting louder as they came closer. At the same time, he felt a familiar presence scratching at the edge of his mind. Could it be Alp?
As Alp ran down the hall in the direction James had pointed, she thought she could feel her mind making a connection with another entity, but she couldn't be sure whether it was an actual connection or just her wishing for one. But as she continued down the hall, the feeling grew, so she decided to trust her instincts.
Mel, this is Alp. Is that you? I’m coming to you. Hold on. At least she hoped that was true. The hall was poorly lit by spotty emergency lighting so she couldn't be sure, but it looked like someone at the far end coming towards her. Could it be Mel? No, she didn't think so. The form was too large. As it came closer, it looked like someone carrying something heavy. Her instincts screamed for her to hide. As she looked around, she saw a door she'd passed a few yards back. She quickly returned to it and was relieved to find it unlocked. She slipped into the dark room and closed the door behind her, holding her breath.
Had the other person seen her? She'd not been standing under one of the emergency lights so she figured she'd be safe. But she kept her ear against the door, listening for the approach of the man, praying he wouldn't find her hiding place. She was in luck. She heard the man shuffling down the hall, then slowly the sound dissipated as he continued past her. She let out a breath, counting to twenty before carefully cracking the door open and looking out. Seeing no one in either direction, she slowly stepped out and continued down the hall.
Time was running out. If she didn't find Mel in the next few minutes, she either had to give up the search and return empty-handed, or she'd have to break her promise to James. She already knew what her decision would be. Family came first, even if it was for the black sheep. As she continued down the hall, she felt the psychic connection grow stronger, acting as a mental GPS leading her to her brother.
She passed a couple more doors before coming to one that had been left open. She stopped, taking a moment to feel her way, and confirming to herself that Mel must be inside.
Mel, is that you? It was a silly question to ask, for she knew her brother’s psychic imprint but she mostly just wanted him to answer her. A second or two past before she felt his reply.
Hello
, sis. It's been a while.
The words felt weak and a little garbled, but there was no question they'd come from her brother. She stepped into the room but didn't see him, at first, until she looked through the observation window into the next room where Mel stood staring back at her. He waved, smiling weakly.
She ran to him, surprised at how happy she was to see him still alive. She was about to run up and throw her arms around him but was stopped by the appearance of the room, especially the two bodies lying on the floor between them.
What have you done?
The question popped out before she could stop it.
She saw the looks of surprise, hurt, and then anger flit across Mel’s face.
“I didn’t do this,” Mel replied in a weak yet angry voice. “I found it like this.”
Alp gazed down at the body in front of her and gasped. “That’s Chickowski,” she whispered, then asked more loudly, “Is he dead?”
“Yeah, they both are,” Mel replied. He pointed down at the one lying at his feet. “I think this one may have done all this.” He waved his arm around at the mess. “Looks to me like your Chickowski there might have been experimenting on him and it went bad...real bad.”
Alp nodded as she continued to gaze around the room, her eyes finally coming to a small vial of blue liquid on the counter. Funny, she thought. It looks like the only piece of glass that hadn’t been broken. She paused. Wait a minute. She remembered back to her conversation with Flip when she’d asked him about how she and her siblings had come to be born. Hadn’t he mentioned a vial of blue liquid? He’d called it the template, and it had led to the Kindred when Flip had played a practical joke on his friend, Lionel. This had to be the same stuff.
It has to be destroyed! The thought resonated through her mind and body so strongly it sent shockwaves through her slender frame, and she shuddered.
“What are you talking about?” Mel asked, obviously shocked by her strong reaction as well.
“That.” Alp pointed to the vial. “It’s got to be destroyed.” She briefly recounted Flip’s story. “So, it’s got to be destroyed.”
"Why?" Mel asked as he stepped over the body in front of him and walked over to the lab counter. He picked up the vial and stared at the liquid inside it. "Seems to me this has incredible potential, and it's valuable. We could make a fortune with it."
“No, Mel, we can’t,” Alp replied, walking over to him and reaching for the vial, but Mel pulled it away at the last second. “We’ve got to destroy it before it does any more harm,” she said.
"But, Alp, don't you understand? If it weren't for this, you and I wouldn't exist, nor would our sisters. This is the source of all our powers. Imagine what we could do with this."
Alp hesitated, then reached for the vial again but Mel was too quick and held it up out of her reach. “Now, now, Alp, calm down.”
“Give it to her,” a voice from behind them said.
The two siblings turned to find Damba standing just inside the room.
“Who the hell are you?” Mel asked turning his attention on the intruder.
"None of your damn business," Damba said taking a couple of steps towards Mel and Alp.
It was all the diversion Alp needed. She jumped at Mel’s outstretched hand snatching the vial from his grasp, and in the same motion flung it against the wall where it shattered. All that remained of the template was a wet spot dripping down the wall.
“You little shit,” Mel screamed at Alp as he raised his hand to slap her, but she ducked out of the way and ran to Damba.
“This is my boyfriend, Damba,” Alp said, putting an arm around his waist.
"I am?" Damba asked with a shocked look on his face, which slowly turned into a grin. "I mean, yes, that's right."
“I recognize you now,” Mel said, glaring at the two of them. “You’re from that damn island, aren’t you? Why, if this isn’t a twist in the gut. You’re going to regret interfering in family matters. I have a little something special for people who butt in where they don’t belong.”
Mel turned all his attention on Damba as his eyes began to glow, a blue beam of energy striking Damba in the chest.
Damba took a step back as Alp screamed. "No, Mel, don't!" She tried to step in front of Damba, but he held her back. She turned towards him and gasped, pointing at his chest. "It's your medallion."
Damba stared down to find the medallion growing a deep blue as it absorbed Mel's energy. "Well, I'll be darned," Damba said smiling. "It's doing its job." He turned his attention back to Mel, who was sweating heavily and obviously exhausting himself from the effort.
"I would advise you stop what you're doing before..." But before Damba could finish, a streak of blue energy shot from the medallion returning to its source, flinging Mel backward against the wall. The crack of his skull against the hard surface made a sickening sound that sent a shudder through Alp's body. She watched in shock as her brother collapsed on the floor like a marionette whose strings had been cut.
Confrontation
AS PAT APPROACHED HASSAN, she took a mental inventory of her arsenal; just the tranq gun, but no. She also had the element of surprise, which could prove to be the most valuable of all. After all, Hassan didn’t have a clue what her intentions were. A little flirting might just give her the opening she’d need. She plastered a smile on her face and forced down a shudder.
“Hassan, I’m so glad I found you here. I hope I haven’t caught you at a bad time. Could we talk for a minute?”
Hassan glared at her for a moment before pasting his own inauthentic smile on his face. “I’ll call you back in a minute, but get your ass here, pronto,” he said to the person on the other end of the line. As he disconnected the call, he turned his attention to Pat.
“It’s so hard to find good help these days,” he said. “I apologize for the inconvenience of the power outage. Fortunately, the generators are doing their job.”
“I think I’ve figured out where we met,” Pat interrupted him, trying to throw him further off.
“Oh, really? Where’s that?”
As Pat fingered the crystal around her neck, she realized she indeed had figured it out. No one else knew about the crystal but the one who had worn it before her. And somehow, even though she'd been sure she had killed that brute, she now realized he had somehow escaped death and was once again standing before her.
She continued to play with the crystal trying to draw his attention to it, while she reached into her pocket with her other hand for the tranq gun. "Surely you must remember where we were when I ripped this off your neck, just before beating you with a tire iron."
She pulled the gun out of her pocket and aimed it at his chest. “I don’t know how you managed to survive then, but I can assure you, you won’t be so fortunate this time. She pulled the trigger, sending the tranquilizer dart into his chest.
Hassan glanced down at the dart, the confused look turning first to surprise and then anger. “What are you talking about?”
Pat counted silently to five, the maximum amount of time it was supposed to take for the tranquilizer to take effect, but nothing happened. Hassan continued to stand in front of her, apparently immune to its effects.
He reached up and plucked the dart from his chest and stared at it a moment before tossing it aside.
Oh, shit, Pat thought just before Hassan moved impossibly fast towards her. In the next second, she felt the sharp blow to the side of her head as he struck her with the gun. Stars burst in every direction as she fell to the ground, fighting to remain conscious. Yep, this had been a terrible idea; she thought as she began to slip into the black hole of unconsciousness.
As Todd walked along the roof of Falcon Lair, he glanced around to be sure no one else was around to witness what he was about to do. Even as he walked, he started disrobing, jamming his shirt into the backpack he held in his hand. It would need to be a short flight, just long enough to get a good overview of their surroundings, and then back to human form.
He dropped the backpack at his feet as he removed his pants, feeling the transformation taking place as he did so. He shook his right leg free of the knife strapped to it; the blade Pat Vogt had given him as a birthday present how many years ago?
It was at that moment that he realized Pat was nearby. His acute sense of smell pulled his attention to two figures below him on the patio; a man and a woman. The woman was Pat. That wasn't surprising. He knew she was part of the mission. But the man's scent had Todd question his own sanity. He must be mistaken. It just couldn't be. It had been years since he'd smelled it, but it was unmistakable. He'd never come across anyone who felt anything like it before.
He still remembered as a child being drawn to the stranger others called Homlin, spending time at his mountain lodge where Homlin had taught him about his extraordinary gift of shapeshifting. He'd felt such a strong connection at the time; he wondered if Homlin was his real father. But then it had gone terribly wrong. Homlin had arrived home abruptly from a business trip and told the young boy that they were going camping. They'd ended up in a cave a few miles from the lodge where Homlin had left him, promising to return as soon as possible. Even though there was enough food stockpiled to last for weeks, it had been one of the scariest times of Todd's life.
Todd watched as Pat pulled a gun from her pocket and aimed it at the man who smelled like Homlin. Todd felt a wave of déjá vu come over him. He’s seen these two fight before. It had ended with Pat killing Homlin, or so he had thought at the time. But how could Homlin be standing here now? An image of the cave flashed across Todd’s memory. Besides food, there had been some strange equipment Homlin had warned the young boy not to touch. It had sat there, in the back of the cave, dormant and uninteresting until the end of the fight when it had awoken with a high-pitched humming and a flashing of lights. Could it have played some role, somehow preventing Homlin’s death?
Pat took a step towards the man dressed in the customary Arab garb and pulled the trigger, but instead of the sharp report, Todd heard a dull sound of something striking the man in the chest. Nothing happened. Apparently, Pat's weapon did not affect him. Time to make amends, Todd thought as he grabbed the knife in his talons and leaped from the building. He hoped his wings would help break the fall.
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