by F Stone
“Certainly, Captain. Two of your fine naval officers came and picked them up a couple of hours ago.”
“What? They’re gone?”
“Why, yes. Must admit, their teachers weren’t too happy about the unscheduled interruption, but the men insisted. They told the teachers that there was some urgent family business and the boys were needed right away. I’m surprised you don’t know anything about this, Captain.”
Sam grabbed onto the principal’s arms. “Ms. Gray, did the men give their names?”
The principal’s friendly demeanor dropped at Sam’s rough contact. She yanked her arms out of his grip.
“I understand there are nuances with your custody arrangement, so before I tell you anything more, I’ll have to check the files to see what information you’re authorized to receive. You may have a seat while I locate your file.”
Sam didn’t waste any more time. He rushed out of the school and back to his rented car. On his way, he connected to his boys’ comlink. They didn’t reply. Upon reaching his car, he contacted the Admiral’s office.
“Admiral Garland’s office. Celine speaking.”
“Celine! I’ve got to speak to the admiral right away.”
“Is that you, Captain Waterhouse?”
“Yes. Now, the admiral, now!” he demanded.
“I’m sorry, Captain. The admiral isn’t in, and we don’t expect him back today. He said he had personal business to attend to and would be at his home office by sixteen-hundred hours.”
Sam’s heart pounded in his chest. It raced along, robbing him of his breath. His whole body felt heavy and unwilling to move as fast as he needed it to. He cut off his conversation with Celine and visually scanned the school grounds. Nothing appeared out of place. In an act of desperation, he called out his sons’ names and held his breath. He only heard the sound of his heartbeat in his ears.
It was almost 1555 hours. He called the admiral’s home office. Only the answering unit responded. He clicked off the call and connected with the admiral’s house staff who also advised him that the admiral wasn’t expected home until for perhaps another hour.
“Is Perkins, there?” he asked.
“No, sir.”
“The second the admiral gets home, tell him to call me. Understand? It’s urgent. And if the boys show up there, make sure they call me immediately. Is that clear?” He was almost shouting.
“Yes, Captain.”
Sam considered calling Clay. He initiated a call to the detective’s comlink twice and canceled both times. He had a gut feeling this either wasn’t the right time or, perhaps, it was best to keep the civilian forces out of this. He wished he knew how to get in touch with Danik. He called Commander Moon.
“USS Nonnah, Commander Moon.”
“Rhett, have you received any orders from the admiral’s office this afternoon?”
“Hello, Sam. Yes, and rather odd. Just got it, about an hour ago. The Nonnah is to remain off shore from New Seattle. My orders are to anchor out at sea one hundred nautical miles southwest of the base. What’s going on, Sam?”
“Oh Christ,” he muttered.
“Sounds like there’s trouble.”
“Could be, Rhett. Is there anything else going on that’s out of the ordinary?”
“Butchart has ordered that for the next twenty-four hours no helicopters are to approach the Nonnah unless approved by him personally.”
Sam clenched his teeth and breathed forcefully through his nose. The orders had a devastating effect on his plans. He wouldn’t be able to reach Sidney and get her off the ship. He paced feverishly around his car.
“Captain?” called out Moon.
Sam closed his eyes and tried to regain control of his thoughts. “Rhett, at this point you and the Nonnah are in no danger. But my boys have disappeared. I can’t let them take my boys, Rhett.”
“Who? Captain, surely the admiral has — ”
“Rhett, the admiral isn’t necessarily in control anymore. Waterhouse out.”
Sam placed a call again to the admiral’s home office. Admiral Garland answered.
Sam struggled to control his anger. “Sir, I’m at the school, but my boys are gone. Perkins never showed. I was told two naval officers took them out of school early. Where the hell are they?”
The admiral paused before responding and cleared his throat.
“Just hold on, Waterhouse. Every few weeks Perkins has to take the boys to some sports tournament, or to a dentist’s appointment, or out for any number of reasons. I’m sure they’re fine.”
Sam’s suspicions wouldn’t let go. He made his way directly to the admiral’s home.
Butchart checked his watch. It was 1600 hours. He hoped everything went well at the school. By now he figured that Sam was crawling the walls, a thought that gave him pleasure. He drove to the admiral’s home. On his way, he contacted Perkins.
“Got the two screaming Waterhouse brats locked up in the lab’s dark room,” Perkins reported. “Everything’s under control. A video link is ready so Sam can see we’re damn serious, sir.”
“Excellent. Stand by. I’ll call from the admiral’s home in about an hour and half.” Butchart was eager to exercise his superiority over both Sam and the admiral.
Sam met the admiral in his office. Though temporary repairs had been made, it was obvious a skirmish had taken place in the admiral’s domain.
“I spoke with Perkins,” the admiral said. “It’s as I thought — the boys are at a basketball tournament. They’ll be back by seventeen-hundred hours.”
“They never mentioned it yesterday. My boys better be here within the hour.” Sam could see the admiral was nervous, fidgeting with a pen. He avoided eye contact with Sam. “Admiral, within the hour,” he repeated.
“Oh, hell, why are you making a fuss? Perkins has always treated the boys well, buys them ice cream, takes them shopping. Like an uncle, he is.”
Sam wanted to relax, but his instincts wouldn’t let go of the feeling of imminent danger.
“I’ve given more thought to your offer.” Sam sat in front of the admiral and consciously focused on his breathing. Remain calm. “Sidney won’t agree to working for the U.S. Naval Forces.”
“That’s unfortunate. Our deal was for you to give me Sidney and you’ll get your freedom. You talk to that woman and make her know the consequences if she doesn’t cooperate.”
“I can’t do that, sir.”
“Then you’d better get ready to board the Nonnah. She’s anchored just beyond New Seattle’s naval harbor.”
Sam gritted his teeth. “All right, just let Sidney go.”
“No. In fact, I plan take her off the ship and deal with her personally. If she’s who you say she is, then I need Butchart to handle her. It’ll be a while before I can trust her.”
“He’ll kill her.”
“Not unless I order him to.”
Sam abandoned his endeavor to remain calm. “Are you so arrogant that you think Captain Butchart follows your orders and disregards his own agenda?”
The two men cursed each other without reservation for rank or military conduct. The outpouring contained the old wounds and suspicions. It was with great effort that both refrained from physical violence. After ten minutes of shooting verbal daggers at one another, the two men became silent.
The admiral stood silent, surveying the room that only yesterday had been shattered by bullets. He believed his life was also becoming a disaster, surrounded by villains and the inept. He was constantly on the defensive, guessing at who might be waiting to impale him with a knife into his back. It was exhausting to be constantly on the alert. Lately he felt older than his fifty-two years, lacking his usual sharp mind and energetic body. He feared for his sanity.
As Sam observed him, he saw a lonely man struggling to maintain what he believed in as good and enduring. He saw a man lost without the loving guidance of his wife and adrift from the quiet within that brings peace, clarity, and joy. Sam felt a surprising connection to the man he�
�d despised.
Ever so carefully, Sam withdrew a long, narrow envelope from his inside breast pocket. He hesitated. What was in the envelope was considered a sacred gift.
Does one share such things? Will its magic be enough to calm the paranoia in the admiral, enough to open his eyes to see the truth of the destruction he’s wielding with Madame? Will its Light help him see clearly and set him free from his fears?”
Sam reached into the envelope and took out the feather, the red-tailed hawk’s feather that had driven him to near insanity only a few days ago. He stepped toward the admiral and slowly offered the feather to him.
“What the hell is that?” the admiral scowled and stepped away.
Sam slowed his breathing. It was vital for him to make a connection with his nemesis. Time was running out. To obtain his freedom and get Sidney off the Nonnah, he needed the admiral as an ally.
“Admiral, you of all people know that what appears to be fact, isn’t all there is to know. This appears to be a feather, but it isn’t. See for yourself.”
Sam realized he needed to use his Guardian nature. With that conscious thought, he felt a surge of energy. In seconds he shifted from Captain Samaru Waterhouse to Sam, the Guardian. Even his voice changed slightly. As he spoke, he hoped the admiral would give in to trust.
“Please take the gift.” He offered the feather with an open palm. “I know you’re a wise man and fear nothing. This gift will show you that though something may appear fragile, it has great strength and endurance, like you, John.”
The admiral was taken aback. Very few people called him John. It made him feel like the man he’d been many years ago. Before he was an admiral. Before his wife died. Gingerly, he took the feather into his trembling hand. He looked at its colorful markings and studied the delicate edges. Sam moved quickly to place a chair behind the admiral as he slumped backward, still focused on the feather as it spoke to him in a language known only to his higher self.
The trembling of his hand became worse, and the feather fell to the floor. His entire body shook, and his eyes were wide with fear.
“No!” he screamed. “No! Run!”
The admiral leaped from his chair and darted about the room. Then he found a corner and pressed himself into it. Clawing at the walls, panting and mumbling nonsense, he collapsed to the floor.
Sam knelt down and reached for the admiral’s chest. Touching the space near his heart, he said, “John, you’re free.”
Instantly, the vision that was revealing the truth to the Admiral was terminated. He was confused and embarrassed to find himself huddled on the floor. Slowly, he rose to standing and touched a severely damaged section of wall.
“How, why?” he stammered. He looked over to Sam, standing calm beside him. “I saw … things. Terrible things, Sam. A world gone mad, and I was making it happen. Like I was mad myself.” He grabbed Sam’s arm. “What have I done?”
Sam held the admiral’s shoulder and motioned for him to have a seat. He retrieved the feather, placed it back into its envelope and into his coat pocket.
“You’ll feel better in a few minutes,” Sam said, offering the man a glass of water.
“I never meant for any of this to happen,” the admiral said in complete surrender.
Sam waited for the man to regain his composure. “Admiral, what’s your vision for this planet’s future?”
“The future? My vision? God, it better not be what I just saw.” He gazed out through the clear plastic that was now stretched over the window opening. Soon he began to paint a picture. “I see children playing in clean, clear water. I see boreal forests filled with birds. Nations without borders. I see peace, Sam.” He appeared calmer than Sam could ever remember. “I see peace,” he repeated.
Sam sat down across from the admiral. “Sounds like you and I have similar visions. We may only disagree on how to arrive there.”
The admiral looked forlorn. “You know, Sam, once you start keeping company with the insane, visions become twisted.”
“I know all about what company you’ve been keeping.”
The admiral studied Sam’s face. “How could you? No one knows, aside from Butchart.”
“Thy Kingdom Come. And Madame. I found a copy of the complete file.”
The admiral stiffened.
“Relax. No one but me has read the complete file. I have a copy, thanks to Sidney.”
The admiral rolled his eyes. “Her again! Why thanks to her?”
“Sidney copied it from your computer and then hid it. She seems to believe that the file causes anyone who touches it nothing but grief and death. Seems pretty accurate, so far.”
The admiral frowned. “Perhaps that’s why Frank Butchart appears ill at times. He’s become fanatical over the crystal project security. Chances are he’s now one of Madame’s spies.”
Sam moved close to the admiral’s ear. Barely speaking above a whisper he asked, “Admiral, if, and only if the crystal were powerful, who would you think should have access to that power? Someone like Butchart? Madame? Me, you … who?”
The admiral’s eyes were wide with shock “Are you saying those crystals do have power? They can be used to destroy, like what happened yesterday?”
Sam nodded. “They have no power on their own. The crystal only amplifies the intent of the one accessing the crystal, making the power last longer and become stronger. But they can’t be activated unless the user is able to be calm and focused. Someone like Butchart. The crystal doesn’t differentiate between what’s for the higher good and what’s for harm.”
The admiral starred at Sam. “Did you use a crystal yesterday? Where is it?”
“It’s hidden in my shoe.”
The admiral shook his head. “Damn, what have I done? I don’t know what possessed me to agree to Madame’s plan. No one should be trusted with that much power. No one.” He looked away, again deep in thought. “I’m going lock up those crystals, Sam.”
The admiral placed a call to the Naval Base science lab. He ordered the scientists to shut down the lab and leave immediately. He then ordered his head of security to ensure the lab was locked and to prevent anyone from entering it. They were to use lethal force if necessary.
He turned to Sam. “I was skeptical about the crystals in the beginning but was motivated by Madame to participate in her project. I figured that if the crystal were proven to be powerful, I’d be viewed as a hero, saving the world from these dark times. I figured a person like her wouldn’t bother with crystals unless she knew for a fact they had power. Over this past year I began to have doubts about her, particularly because she watched my every move. At first, I thought perhaps she was just overly zealous in her work, but then the threats started, and Sam, she has the wealth and manpower to back those up.”
The admiral’s comlink sounded, and the security staff at his gate announced that Captain Butchart had arrived.
25. Guardians of Light and Dark Duel
July 16, 1735 Hours, New Seattle: “Let Captain Butchart pass,” the admiral commanded his front gate security. “And let me know the second there’s any indication of Madame or her troops approaching.” He turned back to Sam. “You realize both of us are going to have to fight for our lives before the day is done! Madame isn’t going to let you walk away.”
“She appears to have already made an attempt on mine,” Sam murmured. “Had a little car trouble last night.”
The admiral grimaced. “She always knows my every move. She’s probably gathering up her forces as we speak.”
“Sir, I have to get my boys out of here. We’re going to have to come up with a strategy.”
“Give Frank the feather. Perhaps it’ll bring him back to his senses too.”
“He’d recognize it and stay clear of its influence. No, and I don’t dare use any Guardian powers. Look what happened the last time. I can’t risk any lives, especially those of my sons.”
Frank entered the room. The three men faced each other in a triangle formation, e
ach with his arms crossed over his chest. Sam had no respect for Butchart and no trust, yet made an effort to start the conversation without hostility.
“I want apologize to you for yesterday’s incident. As I told Admiral Garland, it was totally accidental. I had no intention of doing any damage or harming anyone. How are your wounds?”
Butchart glared at Sam. “Never mind my wounds.” Then Butchart smiled. He was in his element. He’d taken more of his medication, and his arm was free of pain. “By the way, your boys are fine … for now. They’ll be released unharmed the second you admit the truth about the crystals. It’s that simple.”
The admiral was shocked. His eyes were wide and his mouth opened, but no sounds were emitted. He took a breath.
“Frank, you’ve lost your mind!” the admiral shouted.
Sam glared at Butchart. His uneasy feeling about his sons’ absence was founded after all.
“I’ve nothing more to say about those rocks!” Sam stood firm, his shoulders square with Butchart’s. His hands remained clenched at his side as he resisted grabbing the man’s throat. “Where are my boys?”
Butchart wasn’t intimidated. “Perhaps you’ll change your mind once you see your kids suffering from your poor judgment.”
Admiral Garland approached Butchart. “I forbid you to harm those boys. You have no business putting innocent children at risk. I order you to release them. Right now, Frank!”
Butchart was surprised at the admiral’s show of concern for the boys.
“Admiral, this has to be done. It’ll answer any doubts you’ve had about the crystals. You’ll see that all the money and struggle was worth it. You’re destined to lead this country, breathe new life into this whole damn planet. They’ll call you the most heroic leader of all time.”
Sam noticed the admiral’s reaction to the idea of being the chosen one. For a moment, he was drawn back into the lust for power. His chin inched a bit higher, and his shoulders shifted back. It lasted only briefly, then the admiral stepped out of the mold. He put his hand on Butchart’s shoulder.
“This isn’t the time, Frank … or the way. Let the boys go. We’ll solve this between men.”