He cried. He wanted in the worst possible way to see life pop back in those lifeless eyes and animation to reenergize the lifeless fingers, but Nana was gone. His mind whirled.
He remembered a crate or a box of some kind. Nana would say, “Where’s my little lion?” and Joniver would roar a little roar, bursting from the box on all fours, and she would catch him and toss him gently in the air. He always felt so high in the air, but looking back, he was not sure he ever really left her hands.
He thought about Randell Jefferson, Tony Nguyen, and Phillip McAllister, who daily stood outside Peachtree Towers, pushing and shoving the nine-year-old Joniver. Nana took a broom stick to them one day, and when they came back the next day she did it again. She beat them every day until they stopped.
What ever happened to those guys, he wondered. I guess, it doesn’t matter, he told himself.
And there were market days. He remembered asking why she paid more for something she could have gotten cheaper at another vendor.
“Why didn’t you buy it, Nana?”
“Not from him, Joniver. That’s not a good deal.”
“But you spent more with the other guy! It was a good deal.”
“You can’t make a good deal with a bad guy. He’s a bad guy.”
“And he is still a bad guy,” Joniver said in a quiet voice.
He saw himself sitting one night in the tiny flat during a storm. The fierce lightning had awakened him.
He went to Nana on the verge of tears.
“Come here, Joniver,” she said. Nana put her arm around him and pulled him tight and close to her side. The two of them sat in the great room of their flat and watched through the window. The lighting flashed and danced in a brilliant array of electrical entertainment.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” she said. He laid his head on her shoulder and watched through the plate glass window, held in her tight squeeze. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
Joniver moved his left hand instinctively over his right shoulder. He could still feel her arm around him. He had loved lightning ever since.
Everything she did was good, and everything she said was good. She made some mistakes, sure, but she always loved him, always cared for him, and she always made sure he knew he was loved and he was special. She was always so positive about everything. She always saw what was good not just in people, but in life. She was fun to be around and she always made it fun, and she made you feel good.
Now she was gone.
Joniver cried. He was unaware of his mother or brother in the room and could not have cared less about them at that moment. Within a matter of just a few hours the two most important people in the world had been taken from him. He felt as though he was being ripped inside out, stitch by stitch. He sobbed for Nana, and he sobbed for Emily, and he sobbed for reasons he did not even understand.
Joniver had never felt so isolated. The only woman who loved him to manhood had been taken from him, and he had tossed away the only woman he would love forever.
He had no one.
Joniver looked up through the pain rolling down his cheeks and saw his brother at his side. Elizabeth was gone, but Jacob was there beside him. He looked in Jacob’s eyes and although he expected to see disdain, he saw - tears.
Jacob was crying too.
Joniver turned and put his arms around Jacob, and the two brothers embraced for the first time, each crying out for the loss they both felt. One, for the loss of the woman who knew him best, and the other, for the woman - the grandmother - he never had a chance to know.
They stood in their embrace for a long time. Nurses and medics who came by would open their mouth to say something, fall silent and leave.
Nana was gone, and all North Command grieved. They knew most of all that two brothers who arrived separately months ago would leave together.
Although neither said it, Joniver and Jacob were both grateful Elizabeth had left the room.
“I need to go,” Jacob said. “You?”
“No,” Joniver said. “I need to stay for a while.”
He sat in the room alone with what used to be Nana, the only parent he had ever known and the single true source of guidance he had ever had.
“Nana, I seem to come to you when I am not feeling good, and I feel awful right now,” he said aloud. “Nothing has turned out as I expected or planned. I just don’t know anymore. I want to feel good about what I have accomplished and what has happened to me and because of me. Everything makes sense when I think about it, but it doesn’t feel right. I want it to feel good.
“I wish we could go back to the way things were before. I wish we could go back to when I didn’t know. Everything I’ve touched lately has gone to crap. I am so tired. I never understood what the word weary meant, but I know now; I am weary.
“Each day feels like one more burden. Nothing is exciting. The only good thing is that I am going to help rescue Olinar and get Emily back. Maybe that’s all I am supposed to do for now. I really want to stop. I need a break…Is this how things are for everybody? Is this everyday? I can’t stand it.
“I’ve got choices, but both are bad, and I need your help. I’ve got to go try get Emily and Olinar, and I thought I wanted to, but now that the time is here, I’m not sure. I’m afraid.
“I want Emily back so bad it hurts, but what if I never see her again? The fear hurts so bad it feels like a giant crank is turning in my stomach. I know I need to go, but I don’t want to go. I don’t want to kill anyone.
“And Elizabeth is supposed to be my mother but she is not you. She’s not my mother. You are my real mom.
“I don’t like her, and I can’t trust her.
“I’ve blown it with Emily and she’s gone, and Olinar’s gone and I hope they’re not gone for good. I’ve never been afraid like this.
“I’ve wished things were different, but I’ve never had to think about if things don’t change, and now I’m afraid they’ll stay the same.
“Please, Nana, wake up and help me. I want to bring Emily back and let’s all go back to the way things were.
“Please, Nana, please come back! I don’t think I can do this alone.”
The tears flowed again, but this time, he was alone.
Chapter 25
He spoke with a clarity that ran a chill down Joniver’s spine. “He fooled us all, Joniver, most of all, me. So don’t beat yourself up. There is nothing you could’ve done,” Dunston said with a sympathetic tone. Joniver was not sure if he was talking about Emily or Nana, but he felt he was to blame for both of them.
He should not feel it was his fault, especially for Nana, but in his heart, he failed them both. Now they were both gone. Maybe they had a chance to get Emily.
Jacob reached over and rubbed his brother on the shoulder, “Let’s go get her, Little Brother.”
Dunston took a deep breath, “Men, we all need to prepare for the very real possibility she is already dead. Of course this will not stop us from going, nor will it change our intentions. However, Hunter will no doubt attempt to play with your emotions much like he did several weeks ago in his office.”
Joniver remembered Dunston had heard most of what Hunter said using the GNAT. The evening he was rescued felt like it happened years ago. Despite what Dunston and Jacob both told him, he did feel responsible, and it wasn’t just because he had not been there - been in her apartment the moment Jones came through the door. He felt guilty because he abandoned her. He treated her like his sword, like something he could put away and pull out when he pleased.
No, even that’s not right, he thought. If I had been as callous with my sword, someone would have taken it by now. Someone did take Emily. She was taken because he did not care for her the way he should have, and as a result, he forced her into a vulnerable position. Jones took advantage of her vulnerability.
Joniver was unsure how far Jones had taken advantage. There were rumors Emily welcomed Jones into her bed on the night she was taken, and the thought made Joniver crazy with j
ealousy. His skin crawled and his stomach turned, but he realized his rage was misdirected if it pointed anywhere other than himself. Jones stepped into the void Joniver himself created. The pig took the pearl and turned on Joniver. Once again, Nana was correct, and in a strange way, it made Joniver believe Emily was alive.
Emily’s location was another question, however. North Command identified the location Olinar was held, and it wasn’t good. If he was in a donor tank, the Angriff must act quickly. Even the strongest survived only a few days in a donor tank. Jacob stretched his arm across his brother’s now broad shoulders.
“Hey,” Jacob said, “do you hear me?” He shook Joniver. “Do you hear me?"
Joniver was lost in his thoughts. He looked up at his brother expecting to see Jacob’s familiar hard-nosed go get’em expression, but instead he saw compassion. Joniver sat up straight and looked at Jacob. “What? What did you say?”
“I said, we will get her back. There is every reason to believe she’s alive. I don’t care what Dunston says, I know how these people think. She’s alive and we will get her back. You hear me?”
Joniver nodded. For the first time, he believed something Jacob was telling him. Jacob had told Joniver the truth in the past, but what he just said to him was real; it was true, Joniver thought. And for the first time, Joniver knew he might actually love his brother, not just admire him.
For the first time, he felt he could trust Jacob.
***
The solar-powered plane flew through the bright and cold, but clear morning sky like a crane gliding across the water. Jones walked over to his prisoner and checked the arm and ankle restraints. The restraints were not necessary but why take chances? There had been too many missteps already.
He felt her carotid artery for a pulse and was reassured; at least she was alive. If the blow had killed her, well, he would have had to implicate one of his men, and he just didn’t feel right about doing something like that. Soldiers don’t do stuff like that, he thought.
In reality, I’m not a soldier though, he told himself. I was a spy acting like a soldier. I was good enough to convince them all, even the real soldiers - even Dunston, he thought.
And that was a trick, but he had done it. Fooling Dunston was something to be proud of. Now it was a matter of getting to the Pole while they could and delivering the girl. Then it was payback time. We’ll see who the little guy is then won’t we?
“We’ve been painted!” the pilot yelled from the cockpit.
“Where?” Jones shouted.
“Not sure,” the pilot answered, “but they’ve got a lock, and we got nowhere to run and not enough speed to get there!”
Jones and the pilot strained to see out of the cockpit windows for any sign of another aircraft. They saw nothing and the radar was negative.
“How’s that possible,” Jones asked. “We can’t see it and radar can’t see it but the detector shows a lock?”
“Ground-based,” the pilot said. “Has to be.”
“Where? There’s no ground to lock from!”
“Dunno,” he said, “but I can’t think of anything else.”
The pilot paused.
“Unless it’s right on top of us, and I mean just above us.”
They both stretched to see toward the back of the fuselage as best they could. There were no port or starboard windows, so seeing from the cockpit was the best option. In a moment another alarm sounded a warning.
“My batteries are draining!” the pilot said. “She is right on top of us and she’s blocking our solar panels!”
“How long?” Jones asked.
“Oh, we can go for about four hours and maybe another two or three with the fuel we have in the tanks, but that’s not the issue. The problem is if we can’t get enough sunlight before night, we can’t make it to the Pole!”
“Where can we go with the time we’ve got?” Jones asked.
“Hawaii,” the pilot said. “That’s the only place it could be.”
“Why there?” Jones muttered. “There’s nothing there except company vacation houses.”
“Any chance we can get to Australia?” Jones asked.
“No way.”
“Can we get to Japan?” he asked.
“Sure,” the pilot said, “if you want to land an unauthorized plane with Americas markings in an Asias territory! I hear those prison cells are buried and dark. Not me, man. We’re going to Hawaii!”
“Dammit!” Jones said. Hawaii was not the worst place. Not all the islands had routine patrols. Company officials were allowed to vacation and have fun unfettered by prying eyes and other security measures. The privacy was a perk for higher ups, but it also invited smuggling and illegal trafficking of people, drugs and goods. With all the emphasis on security, it had always been a wonder to Jones why the company did not clamp down on such an obvious security hole. But they did not, and the simple explanation was they enjoyed the pleasures provided at the island oasis more than they feared the terror threat.
Jones considered how to handle things once they landed. If it was Hunter and the Americas in the plane above them, he could use the girl as a bargaining chip. Who else it could it be? The only other people who would care about his cargo was North Command, and he had fooled them. If anything, North Command probably thought he was working for Hunter and would attack the computer system in an effort to free the girl. Such an obvious move would be foolish, but Dunston and Elizabeth were both arrogant enough to believe they could bring the company down.
No communication came from the plane on top and no variation in its position, and so the tandem flew onward, headed toward the big island.
Once they were within three hundred kilometers of the Hawaiian Islands, a distorted, warbled voice came over the radio giving flight and landing instructions. The pilot looked at Jones and made the heading change. Jones went aft and got his men and his prisoner ready.
They were directed to a secluded, seldom used island southwest of the main islands. Upon landing the plane, they were met by a group of armed men dressed in black with facemasks.
The pilot, Jones and his men were ordered out of their plane and onto the landing strip. They complied with little discussion and even less pushback.
The armed men entered the plane and carried out Emily. Although the trip had lasted several hours, she was still groggy, enduring the effects of the concussion she sustained courtesy of Jones. They forced the plane’s other passengers to their knees with their hands over their heads.
“Who are you guys? Where are you taking her?” Jones shouted. “She’s my prisoner!”
“No questions! No talking!” the warbled voice said.
Then for all four men simultaneously, there was a pinch in the neck, and the world went black.
***
He looked out the conference room window overlooking the workout facility. I have good men, Dunston thought. Good men are not enough though, we must have a good plan, and right now we don’t have a good plan. Elizabeth keeps insisting all we have to do is get close enough to broadcast the codes, but it feels wrong.
Why does she have so much confidence in those codes? The brothers act like they have no confidence in them. Why is that?
Dunston was more and more coming to trust Jacob and by extension, Joniver, and he had grown to distrust their mother. What is bothering me so much about her, he kept asking himself. He had felt the same way after returning from the mission to get Joniver.
The Blueberry was right all along, and I was wrong. I was wrong about Jacob and wrong about Emily and I was for sure wrong about Jones.
Jones! What or who was Jones? We had served together and worked together and bled together, and yet I didn’t know him. How is it possible? How was I so blinded? He was a good soldier and had distinguished himself both as an Angriff and in command of his troops.
Angriff! The name was given the troops by Jones! If we keep the name, it is a constant reminder of my foolhardiness. If I ever get my hands on Jones ag
ain, I will break his ever-loving neck! And he had the gall to take the girl! What a coward! I will kill him if I get the chance, and I will get the chance. The little asshole!
“Come on, Dunston!” he said, scolding himself. “Stop playing these head games with yourself. Get focused on the task at hand. You know what you know, and you know what you can do, so do it!”
He returned to the table and sat down in front of the plan Jacob proposed. The plan was good. The kid was good. He had been trained well, but there was something else too. He was not simply trained well, he enjoyed it, and unless I miss my guess, Dunston thought, Jacob was now motivated by something other than training and duty.
“That’s good,” said Dunston. “That’s very good because it means I can trust him, at least as long as Joniver’s alive.”
The Blueberry’s come a long way, too, Dunston told himself. “I never thought I’d say it, but he’s a pretty good soldier.”
Dunston thought for a minute how the brothers had taken the same trip from opposite ends of the spectrum. Jacob was well-trained but lacked the will to be a soldier. Joniver had the will and motivation but lacked the training. He had seen them both make progress over the last few weeks. He felt very confident taking them into battle. Both would fight and die if necessary, and he did not doubt it would be necessary.
“The tricky part’s going to be getting Olinar from the tank and carrying him with us,” he said. “If we could just go underground somehow.” But Dunston knew this was not an option. The sewers and maintenance tunnels were locked up and fitted with traps. In the parts of the city not occupied by company officials, many of the sewers had been bombed out and the sewage ran in the street gutters.
“What a stinkin’ mess!” Dunston said. The thought of the company’s callousness caused his Scotch blood to boil.
He settled back into his work, when the door opened, and Jacob and Joniver walked in.
“Can we interrupt, sir?” Jacob asked standing at attention.
Joniver had not quite gotten the hang of the saluting and standing at attention and the other things he called “soldier stuff.”
Another Force Page 24