by Ammar Habib
All three men were dressed in their black suits, but wore different colored ties. The blinds were pulled back, allowing the sunlight to spill in. Next to the ruby-tinted curtains, the nation’s flag hung off of a pole. The three of them stood on top of a clean Persian rug only a few feet away from Villanueva’s auburn desk. Beneath the rug was an off-white carpeted floor. One secret service agent waited at the room’s entrance while another stood on the other side of the open doorway.
“A lot of people feel the same way,” Jonathan replied. “But it will take more than an explosion to knock him out.”
“He never ceases to amaze me.” The president politely nodded at Adam before looking back at his main guest. “Does he know who the assassin is that killed the Chinese president?”
Jonathan shook his head. “I don’t know anything more than you.”
“I see.” The president cleared his throat. “Bill told me that it was something urgent.”
“It is. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.”
“Anything for you, Jonathan. Your family has done more for this country than I could ever dream of.”
Jonathan slightly nodded in appreciation. “I know last night’s terrorist attack and today’s assassination have thrown everything into complete chaos for you.”
“You cannot even begin to imagine.” Villanueva made his way to his desk and his guests followed. The president sat down with his hands clasped together on the table.
Jonathan took a seat across from the president on one of the two guest chairs. His back was to the door while Adam beside him.
“What did you want to discuss with me?” Villanueva asked.
“Your recent announcement concerning The Guardian.”
Villanueva’s smile faded. He glanced down at his hands for a few moments. “I thought you would say that.”
“You made the wrong call, Mr. President.”
“You’re not the first person to tell me that.”
“Maybe because I am right.” Jonathan studied Villanueva’s face, looking for some sign that the president was doing all this against his will. However, he found none as there was no change in Villanueva’s expression.
After a few seconds, the president’s gaze drifted onto Adam. There was a slight tonal shift in Villanueva’s voice. “Would you mind giving us the room?”
There was a long, awkward moment, as Adam did not say anything.
Jonathan glanced back at his colleague. “Wait outside, Adam.”
“Okay.” Adam’s reluctance showed in his tone, but he did as he was asked. Moments later, the president, the businessman, and the secret service agent had the room to themselves.
Jonathan looked away from the closed door and back at the president. He took a deep breath. “We really need to discuss this.”
“I don’t suppose your brother convinced you to come here.”
“Look at the situation, Mr. President. Our people our outraged. Before dusk, there are going to be protests right outside your very office. You’ve stood by my brother for so long and now you have branded him as a terrorist.”
“Not him. I’ve branded the current Guardian as an enemy-of-the-state.”
“But in doing so, you have also changed your position on Ethan as well. Even if not official, it is heavily implied.”
“Can’t you see, Jonathan,” Villanueva leaned forward a bit. “This was my only choice.”
“You gave in.”
He shook his head. “No, no I did not. The international community wanted your head as well. You are Ethan’s brother after all. They wanted me to arrest you, your wife, your child, and seize all of your assets. But I didn’t let them do that now, did I?”
“Am I supposed to thank you?” The politeness that Jonathan had entered this conversation with began to wane. “You’re the one who has publically called me and Ethan heroes and martyrs for so long. Even if you wanted to arrest me, you would not have been able to. So don’t give me that, Mr. President.
Villanueva frustratingly glanced down at his desk. “Listen to me, Jonathan. I tried to reason with The Guardian. I tried to get him to turn over the princess, but he would not listen.”
“He must have his reasons. You can’t possibly believe that he abducted the princess. He saved her for God’s sake!”
“I don’t know what to believe. If he had turned her over to us, I would have given her shelter in my very own bunker! And if he does have his reasons for keeping her underground, then I can assure you that he has not told me any.”
Jonathan did not reply. The president had just lied to his face without even blinking. Something was off here. The president was not himself. Jonathan had sat across from Villanueva more than enough times to know that.
“The good of the people comes before anything else,” Villanueva finished.
Jonathan took a deep breath. “Mr. President, that is not what you said when my brother trusted you. Back then, you said that justice and morals came before anything else. And right now, you are going against every single moral you have. The Guardian is a hero. Just like my brother, he is a symbol to the people. That is worth more than any treaty that King Maximus is holding over your head.”
The president closed his eyes. There was complete silence as Jonathan kept his eyes on Villanueva. Finally, the president’s gaze came back onto his guest. “I know that whoever is behind The Guardian’s mask is a friend of Ethan’s. And I am all but certain that you are his ally. You’ve been funding his crusade and I’ve let it happen for this long.”
Something was off in the president’s voice. Jonathan felt it in his bones.
“He is an enemy-of-the-state. That makes any of his accomplices the same.” Villanueva rose to his feet. “I’m going to give you one opportunity. Just one, Jonathan. Tell me where he is.”
Jonathan did not believe what he was hearing. That tone—he’d heard it before. It was the same voice as Daken’s soldiers. Jonathan slowly got up out of his chair as his eyes stayed locked with the president’s. “You are not yourself.”
Suddenly, Villanueva’s eyes turned red. His voice grew darker than ever before. “If you won’t take me to him, I’ll have him come to you.”
“Adam!”
Feeling something behind him, Jonathan whipped around to see the security officer. The man had no gun, but aimed his open palm at the businessman. Before Jonathan even received a chance to register what was happening, a bolt of lightning shot out the man’s palm and struck Jonathan square in the chest. Jonathan was knocked off of his feet and landed unconscious.
Hearing his name, Adam whipped towards the guard next to him. The man came at him with a metallic baton, but Adam easily countered the assault. In three quick and successive strikes to the man’s head, chest, and head, Adam took out the guard, not even giving the man a chance to grab his gun. Adam crashed through the door without wasting a moment. But no sooner did he do so that a bolt of lightning struck him.
And everything went black.
Chapter 15
A Fair Trade
The Guardian’s lair was quiet, the air still. A few more lights were now switched on, but most of the compound remained shrouded in darkness. Amelia got the feeling that The Guardian was doing this so that she could not get a good look at his base’s layout. Maybe he feared that one day she would use this knowledge against him. And the fact that he still wore his mask only added to her suspicions.
She followed her protector’s advice to freshen up and change clothes. In the bedroom, she found a large closet full of clothing that fit every size. Most of it seemed hardly worn. She wondered how many people ever came back here. Of all the people who claimed it, none could ever prove their accounts.
In the room across from the one where she had freshened up, the door had been open just a crack. She had looked through the opening without stepping into it. From her vantage point, Amelia saw an almost bare room. But one thing caught her attention: a single photo on a table. She was not sure, but it had ap
peared to be the image of a woman standing on the edges of a beach with a colorful sunset behind her.
Now, she again found herself sitting under the spotlight and on the same medical table she woke up on. The Guardian was back at his master computer. He seemed to not be paying her any heed, failing to even cast a glance her way. Based on what she saw, his computer was hacked into the president’s press secretary’s messaging system.
Amelia glanced down as she thought of everything that was happening. Although she had received plenty of time to do so, the princess felt as if she had not truly registered the situation’s entirety. A small portion of her mind continued to hold onto the hope that she would wake up from this and realize that it was all just a nightmare. But the better part of her knew the truth: there was no waking up from this.
Sensing a presence and feeling a shadow, she suddenly looked up and saw the black ski masked face towering above her. Her heart skipped a beat, having not heard him make his way here.
“I haven’t heard back from my men.”
“What does that mean?” she asked.
“I don’t know. Their tracers went dead.”
“The president’s compound probably has a system that disables tracers.”
“Not my tracers.”
“What if something bad has happened?”
The Guardian was silent for a moment. “They can handle themselves. If I don’t hear from them soon, then I’ll make my move.”
Amelia slightly nodded, but waited before replying. “I still can’t believe it. Out of all the people who would like me out of the picture—it’s my own uncle who pulled the trigger.”
The Guardian was silent.
Slowly, Amelia’s gaze drifted down to his boots. “He’s always been like a father to me—that’s what I always saw him as. He is my closest family… he is my only family. He’s all I had after my parents were…”
There was no reply.
“And to think that it’s all my fault. I’m the reason my parents are dead. All this—it’s because of me.” Her eyes swelled with tears as her grip around the edge of the medical table tightened. “They were here in Crown City doing humanitarian work. That—that was their passion. I was six-years-old—and—and I was back home. I was sick and I wanted them to return a day early. They did not want to return so quickly, but they always listened to my tears. But it was those tears that would put them on the plane that burnt them alive—and it was those tears that put my uncle in power.”
His stoic gaze did not change to show any emotion.
She looked back up at him. “It’s all my fault. And now the city where my parents died may very well be the place where I die to.” A few tears streamed down her cheeks. “Coming here, I thought that I would somehow feel closer to them. I thought that I could fill the hole they left in my heart by helping other people. I tried to make the world a better place, but the more I do, the more I feel like I’m losing them. The bigger the hole gets.”
The Guardian finally responded after a several moments, his voice soft. “We have to learn to accept that the dead are gone.”
Amelia wiped away her tears. “You know about losing people you love?”
Slowly, The Guardian reached and grabbed the top of his ski mask while keeping his eyes on her. In a slow movement, he pulled it off and revealed the face underneath. Amelia recognized the famous friend of Ethan Daniels who the world believed to be dead and gone: William Jones. Flashing though her mind was the memory of when the world had mourned the death of the person who had done so much for his fellow man. But now, he stood above her and his gaze was locked with hers.
His blue eyes were beyond weary. His cheeks and chin were grizzled. His face held a few scars and his dirty blonde hair was a mess.
But his gaze showed nothing but unbroken determination.
“My wife and unborn child were taken from me. They were killed by wicked men because they were the sole witnesses to a crime. I spent years fighting the injustice that killed them, thinking that doing so would fill the hole that they left. But the more I fought, the more I lost them. And when I finally had my vengeance and brought the man who killed them to justice, the hole was bigger than ever. The more I tried to quench my thirst, the larger the thirst became.”
Now it was Amelia who was silent.
“You can’t bring back the dead.” William took a deep breath. “And we can’t fill the hole they left, no matter how hard we try. They’re gone and there’s nothing we can do to change that. We have to learn to move on, no matter how hard it is. We have to learn how to wake up in a world without them.” He put his powerful hand on her shoulder. “But we can honor their memory. We can let their legacy live through us. We do that by never giving up. We do that by continuing to fight to make this world a better place. When we do that, our loved ones will stay with us every step of the way.”
Amelia slightly smiled.
“And if we do that—then we’ve done enough.
***
It was only hours since Ethan had awoken. Seeing Veila arrive back at the shack, Ethan quickly rose to his feet. His voice filled with anxiety as his most predominant thought immediately shot out of his mouth. “Katrina. Where is she?”
Not too long ago, Veila had left under Ethan’s orders to find his wife and her bodyguard. He knew that if Daken was going to try and draw him out, he would surely try and use Katrina to do it. He had asked Veila to transport them here using her abilities.
But now seeing Veila return alone caused every corner of his soul to tremble.
Veila’s face was the same as ever: emotionless. “Ethan, you need to listen to me calmly.”
He took a few steps towards her. Every ounce of his voice suddenly filled with panic as his body began to tremble. “Was she not there? Did Ivan move her somewhere else?”
“Calm yourself, Ethan.”
Coming to her, Ethan roughly grabbed her arm as his gaze stayed locked with hers. Behind his eyes, she could see a dam of fear about to burst. The dam grew with every passing moment as his grip around her arm tightened. “Tell me what you found.”
Veila took a deep breath. “You’re right. She was not there, but there is something else. Ivan. He’s dead.”
She said the last two words so softly that they were barely audible, even to Ethan’s sharp ears. For a moment, he thought that his mind deceived him. But in the next, he registered her words and they drove a spear right through Ethan’s soul.
“He was killed within the last week in the middle of the street. From the description of the locals, it was by one of Daken’s soldiers: Lyn. He struck Ivan down with a bolt of lightning—hit him right in the heart.”
“A bolt of lightning… Lyn.” Ethan aimlessly repeated her words. His eyes swelled with disbelief. The image of his dead friend’s corpse lying in the middle of the street suddenly flashed before his eyes as the reality of the situation set in. He could see the faithful Ivan lying there with his dead eyes looking up at the heavens above.
“And Katrina.” Veila took a deep breath. “She’s been captured. As we speak, she is likely in the clutches of Daken.”
The dam of fear burst.
Looking past his gaze, Veila witnessed Ethan’s soul suddenly get crushed. The thought of Katrina helplessly at the hands of the merciless monster flooded his mind’s eye. He saw her being tortured again and again by the beast in the same way he tortured all his victims: by fire. He heard Daken’s sadistic voice and the sinister cackles of all his soldiers. But above all, he heard Katrina calling out his name.
And he was powerless to do anything.
For a long moment, he blankly stared at Veila. There was complete silence. Finally, he let go of her arm. His eyes quivered with countless emotions: anger, fear, sorrow. But he did not make a sound. His legs gave out from under him and he collapsed roughly onto his knees as his gaze went down onto Veila’s feet. His heart began to beat faster—and faster—and faster. His breaths became short and quick. His body quivered with fea
r.
Veila watched him, unable to do anything. His fear radiated off of him. She felt his pain and the turmoil that suddenly began drowning his heart. For the first time in years, for the first time since his father’s death, Ethan was helpless. He could do nothing as his loved one was in the hands of a villain. His head lifted as his eyes looked up at the ceiling.
And he let out a roar.
***
Not long after his conversation with Amelia, William switched on all of the warehouse’s lighting. The bright lights that hung from the high ceiling illuminated every corner and every crevice of the enormous lair, displaying all its glory.
The two occupants had not spoken in nearly half an hour. The only sounds were a low humming and Amelia’s soft footsteps. William was again at the master computer. The right and left screens displayed a live map showing the locations of all the police and military vehicles in the city. If any of them got too close to the warehouse, William would have all the time needed to take precautions.
On the middle screen, William watched as his scanners continued to try and pick up the tracers on Jonathan and Adam. They were somehow continuing to be jammed. But even still, William still received sporadic signals through the tracers’ failsafe. Jonathan and Adam were headed towards the Wyatt building. The fact that they had not yet called in only meant one thing.
Amelia, meanwhile, soaked in her surroundings. This all seemed surreal—as if it was taken out of the pages of a book. Many people speculated what The Guardian’s base would be and she had always been one of them. But seeing it now, she knew all of the accounts were nothing compared to the real thing. It was as if The Guardian possessed a private, top-of-the line armory all to himself. From the looks of it, everything had been assembled in this very place. It was no wonder that The Guardian always seemed to be one step ahead of his foes.
A red light suddenly began flashing at the top of the screen. William knew what it meant, but seeing it did not change his expression. Slightly turning his head towards Amelia, he spoke as he picked up a small earpiece from the table. “I have a call incoming from one of my men’s devices.”