The Quixotic Faction: (Above Top Secret Edition)

by T. D. Kohler

Without looking up, the admiral has marked the cities and towns that were victims of a mysterious energy.

  “Are you guys going to clue me in? I thought we had a plan.” Lincoln tilts his head to better see what the admiral is doing.

  A news broadcast interrupts the television displaying the admiral and Harvey’s faces. The reporter is informing the public that they are wanted not only by the local police but the FBI. The broadcast announces that they should be considered armed and dangerous. The admiral walks over and turns off the television.

  Lincoln takes a step back. “I still can’t believe that you two already knew this and weren’t going to tell me?”

  Raising his hand, Admiral Kay walks back over to the map. “That was my fault. I didn’t see the need to stress you out further.”

  “Well now I am stressed out,” he pleads. “We need to get to the bunker with Agent Abergathy and Professor Mildiani and—”

  Trying not to raise his voice, Harvey looks up from studying the map. “And what? Hide out until we are old and grey? This organization, these people are powerful and ruthless!”

  “What people? Tell me you are not still set on Men in Black, Project Cadmus, Majestic Twelve theory, or whatever you want to call them?” Lincoln questions as he wails his arms around in exaggeration.

  The admiral puts down the pen and walks over his friend. “Lincoln, take a deep breath. Agent Abergathy and the professor are not going anywhere. Harvey came up with the idea to catch this guy and stop him from killing people and I do not like the idea of someone running around with something that is killing people. If it is something that is this powerful, we have to get it to the right hands. It is this line of thinking that I found you two and your projects.”

  The admiral pauses as Lincoln calms down and moves around to the map. “It is a harebrained idea to try to clear our names; but, I’m willing to give it a shot, if at the very least we can save a few people.” The admiral explains.

  “This guy has to be local. I do not know how or what size of equipment he is using, but I know it can’t be easy to move around,” Lincoln points out.

  “The admiral was already thinking he would be local to the area, because it looks like he’s circling around. I was thinking that you could use your starfish equipment to locate him,” Harvey adds.

  Lincoln grabs a pen and circles the towns Kirbyville, DeRidder, and Newton. “This is where, roughly, we need to go. Of course, I cannot locate him unless he turns on the equipment. So, it would help if we were in the area.”

  “You were able to track Professor Mildiani from Ohio.” The admiral looks at Stevens.

  “If it is Orgone energy, it does not leave a lingering trail like the magnetic-radial waves at the farmhouse. Once it consolidates, it dissipates quickly.” Lincoln waves his hand.

  Pinching the bridge of his nose, the admiral walks away from the map. “This guy is escalating, and the more he escalates the sooner he wants to do it again.”

  “So, what you are saying is that we have to wait until he starts killing again in order to find him?” Harvey throws his hands up in disbelief.

  Finishing drying his hair, Lincoln gives his friend a half-hearted shrug. “Hopefully it won’t come to that, but there is no other way.”

  “Well at least we have our projects. This guy won’t know what hit him,”

  “Harvey, can you please stay focused here? This is not a movie, and we are not characters in one of your graphic novels,” the admiral says while lifting the up the map. He looks over at Lincoln. “How close do we need to be to this energy field for you to be able to detect it? And how close can we get to it without being affected by it?”

  “Good questions, both of them. Neither do I have answers too.”

  Harvey eyes widen. “I did not think of that. Those are good questions.”

  “Well?” Admiral Kay raises an eyebrow, looking at Stevens.

  “Well what? I told you at the restaurant that this capability was purely conjecture and hypothetical. All I can recommend is that we have something distracting our minds if we encounter the energy.”

  Looking more concerned and less confident, Harvey sits on the edge of the bed. “That’s all we need to protect us?”

  “It will help, and the suits should deflect the energy.”

  Folding up the map, the admiral puts it in one of the suitcases. “That’s all we can ask for. Now, we need to be out of here and on the road before we get recognized and the police are called.”

  “Shit. I already forgot about that.” Harvey shakes his head. “Hey, I don’t have one of those fancy suits. Will I be alright?”

  His friend grins. “I don’t think you have ever been completely right. There is one more thing . . .” He pauses for impact. “That team of agents, they’re right here in this same building.”

  Harvey smiles with reassurance. “I wouldn’t worry about them. The admiral here has a whole respect and understanding thing going on with one them.”

  Confused he looks over at the admiral looking for details.

  Admiral Kay shakes his head. “It’s just a mutual understanding. This is not the place for a confrontation. The big guy is an honest man with respect.”

  “Well this honest respectful man nearly snapped my back,” Lincoln quips as he instinctively grabs his lower back.

  “You blew up his truck,” the admiral notes.

  Harvey claps his hands together, laughing. “Boom! You did that?”

  Looking over at Harvey, the admiral points and smiles, “Another thing, this man can allow things to pass right through him. And that, actually makes him a character out of one of your comic books.”

  “I know right, let’s just hope he keeps his truce for now. As for his partner…” He shakes his head, grinning.

  The admiral snaps a suitcase shut. “Harvey, let’s keep focused here. We need to get heading west. The sooner we leave the better chance we have to be in the right area at the right time.”

  “Fair enough. C’mon Lincoln, let’s go check in on our projects. We have a super villain to take down.”

  Lincoln rubs his forehead as he walks out the door behind his over enthusiastic friend.

  * * *

  Inside another room, St. Clair is standing by the window. His silhouette is making the room feel smaller than what it is. His cell phone rings, and he answers it with a dire sense of urgency. “Director, were you able to track the car from Oakdale?”

  “Agent St. Clair, you should always start a conversation with a greeting, for instance, a simple hello would be great.”

  Grinning, he massages the shoulder that was ice burnt yesterday by the admiral. “You are correct, sir. Director Harris, how are you this morning?”

  “Very well, thank you, and yes, we were able to track the car down, but didn’t you say it was a man you ran into and was on the video from the bank?”

  St. Clair looks puzzled. “Sir?”

  “Well the license plate is registered to a 1969 Cadillac DeVille, which however, is registered to a woman.”

  “Raas.” Lowering the phone, he turns back and starts watching the television. The television is showing a special alert for two of the three men are considered armed and dangerous. He finds himself staring at pictures of Admiral Julian Kay and Dr. Harvey Garrett. The News report is some reason leaving out their credentials.

  Director Harris’s voice is muffled on the phone through St. Clair’s hand. “Agent St. Clair? Are you still there?”

  Gathering his wits, St. Clair looks around the room, “Yes sir, I apologize. It sounds like the car was stolen. Agent Nomi just walked in.” He snaps his fingers and points for her to look at the television.

  “Excellent, now perhaps the two of you track down all leads and leave no stone unturned.”

  St. Clair straightens up. “You’re absolutely correct, sir. Where can we find this car?”

  “Jasper, Texas,” Director Harris states. “I will forward you the address.”

  The door opens ag
ain as Agent Selenia walks in, still wearing her sunglasses with Agent Grunt in tow. Nomi gives Selenia a sideways glare and quietly exits the room. As she is leaving, Grunt watches her out of the corner of his eyes and offers her a subtle smile.

  “Thank you, I will let you know how it turns out.” St Clair says and disconnects the call and tosses the phone on the bed and points to the television. “Hey you two, did you see the news report?”

  Ignoring the question, Selenia adjusts her sunglasses and looks at St. Clair. “Was that Director Harris? Does he know where we should be looking for this needle in a haystack?”

  “Sure does, we’re moving the operation to Texas,” St. Clair says. “Did you see the bulletin on the television? It looks like we may not be the only ones looking for this admiral and his friends.” He notices that Selenia does not show any concern or surprise.

  “Chatter, who you been talking to?”

  Selenia gives her head a quick shake. “What are you talking about?”

  “It’s a simple question, woman. Who’d you been talking to?”

  Crossing her arms and shifting her weight on her hips Selenia scoffs, “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

  “Why you want to play games! I saw you on the farm talking to someone in the house after I stepped outside, and Flea said you were talking to someone out in the cornfield.” Pausing to wait for an answer, St. Clair takes an aggressive step at Selenia pointing his hand. “You already knew the FBI is looking for these guys. You coordinated it with someone else, and that is not how we operate, you know that.”

  “Look, while we are on this little excursion of yours, we thought the FBI could lend us a hand tracking down these killers.”

  “When were you going to tell us? And you know they are not the ones who killed Roynika.” St. Clair still points his hand at Selenia.

  Grunt steps out from behind Selenia and looks at the giant agent. St. Clair spots him, points his hand right at him, with an added bite in his tone, “Not now.”

  Grunt gestures both hands up, surrendering, and steps out of the room.

  St. Clair looks back at Selenia. “You know they’re not the one who killed her.”

  “We believe you, but they know who did, and that makes them just as guilty.” She folds her arms and glances at the television.

  “So, you are going to ruin these men.” Turning away from Selenia, St. Clair rubs the back of his head.

  She throws her hands on her hips just as the door closes to the room. “Why are you trying to defend them?”

  “Because I fought against them, and they can no more kill anyone than I could fly. They are only looking for a friend.” He squints his eyes and looks closer at Selenia. “Speaking of friends, you do not seem to have even the slightest concern for Agent Abergathy.”

  Selenia waves his hand away. “She knows who Nika’s killer is, and she is probably in cahoots with him too, the admiral, and his cohorts.”

  St. Clair drops his hands and looks at her with disbelief. “You have become ruthless since we broke up.” He looks at the television then back at her. “You were good at keeping tangs from me then, and you are keeping tangs from me now. Who’d you been working with and talking to?”

  “That is none of your concern.” Noticing a subtle facial flinch, she reaches up to her glasses. “There’s something you are holding back.” She removes her glasses revealing her solid black eyes and takes a step towards St. Clair. “There’s something you are not telling us”

  St. Clair scrambles backwards. “Puppa Jesus! What the hell?”

  Selenia takes another methodical step towards him. “You know, don’t tell me. As a matter of fact, fight me, try to keep it to yourself.”

  “What the hell!” Feeling her eyes starting to bore into his, a green aura forms around St. Clair, and he vanishes.

  She puts the glasses back on and turns and looks for her partner. “Grunt! Where did you go?”

  * * *

  Outside the room, at the end of the hallway, Nomi sits on a bench with her feet under her, talking on the phone. “Okay, we’ll talk to you soon, Harvey.” Disconnecting the phone, she turns and sees Grunt standing there, grinning ear to ear. He turns and quickly walks back to the room.

  Nomi looks down at her phone. “Shit”

  A green hue fills the corner of the hallway as St. Clair appears. “Flea, we got to get out of here. Like now!” He leans in and keeps his voice down.

  Nomi looks up at him with a smile and holds her arms out. “Well, my hero, get me out of here.”

  “I can’t do that. This is a one-ticket ride. Just get, I mean, I’ll meet you ta car. We are going back to Texas.”

  Deserted Farm,

  Dry Creek, LA

  July 22, 1149 hours

  A silver Ford Taurus slowly makes a turn onto a dirt road. A series of broken cornstalks on both sides of the path piques Director Harris’ interests, as he comes to a stop. Getting out of the car and closing the door, he causes a murder of crows to take flight again. He ducks, raising his arms to shield himself from the presumed attack.

  Watching them fly across the fields, he shakes his head getting back in the car, and then takes a moment to wipe his forehead. “Get a hold of yourself, it is not a good trait for a director to get weak in the knees.”

  Further up the path he has to drive around the remains of the Ford F250.” I wager that would have been interesting to see.” Looking around, he is amazed at the level of damage.

  Slowing the car to a stop alongside the dried-up cornfield in front of the house, he gets out, watching for more crows to attack. Pointing his fingers at the footprints and drag marks on the ground, the director starts to walk the open area, following the scuffmarks. Picking up his pace, he steps and slides as if he was listening to some music. Retracing the tracks, he ends up facing a large hole in the wall of the farmhouse.

  “Now that had to leave a mark.” He looks back out in front of the house and smiles thinking out loud. “Ever since I saw Boondock Saints, I wanted to that. If I only had opera music it would have been perfect.”

  Stepping onto the battered porch, the director looks into the living room through the large hole. Making his way through the hole, he notes the dusty shelves, worn out couch, and beat up chairs. Looking around he can’t fight the feeling that something is not right. Counting his fingers with his other hand, he thinks out loud again, “One, the house is very old. Two, the house is extremely run down . . .” After a moment pause, his eyes are drawn to the bookshelf and at a series of books with a lighter dust layer on them. Then it hits him. The house is neat, not clean, but organized neat.

  Just as he stands next to the shelf to get a better look at the books, a familiar voice startles him. “Director Harris.”

  Turning his head to greet the familiar voice, he sees Agent Abergathy standing at the kitchen doorway. With boisterous bounce in his voice, he says, “Agent Abergathy! How are you doing this fine afternoon?”

  Cautious with choosing her words, Kristen steps into the room, “Doing fine sir, and you?”

  Reaching into his pocket to pull out a handkerchief, he says, “I would be doing better when I can get back to the dry dessert.” Director Harris takes a heavy sigh and wipes his brow. “How are you holding up in this humidity?”

  Gripping the door frame, turning her knuckles white, she says, “Sir, I haven’t had a chance to call you and give you updates, I mean . . .”

  “Relax,” the director tells her, smiling and motioning his hands to calm her down.

  “What is it you say, breathe in…breathe out? That is good advice for you right now.”

  Taking a deep breath, her grip relaxes, and she affords herself a modest smile.

  Director Harris looks down at his watch, then back at the books. “I’ve had to see the value in that over these past few days.” Shaking his head, he chuckles in disbelief. “Hard to believe it has only been three. I need a vacation, and that vacation would not include traveling. Twenty-four h
ours at a keno lounge, a bottomless drink, and a sign that reads Do Not Disturb. Now that would be a vacation.”

  “That sounds like a great idea, sir.”

  Motioning with exhilaration, the director puts the handkerchief back in his pocket. “Great, let’s get on a plane, and you can debrief me once we are in the air.” Recognizing her apprehension, he surrenders, “And…we won’t be taking that flight, will we?”

  Kristen steps towards the front room. “Sir, I can’t even begin to tell you everything that has happened. Sir, Roynika Carol is dead.”

  Age and weariness washes over the director as he leans back against a couch.

  “Yes, this we know. It has caused quite a stir. Which…” He points a finger in the air and continues, “…is another reason why you and I must get back to Las Vegas.”

  “I understand sir, but the phenomenon I found, well, it is…”

  “Sentient, I know.”

  “Wait, you already knew?” She stumbles back a step as her jaw drops.

  “I’ve been enlightened; however, I may not know the details, which is why you must debrief me. I can help,” the director reassures the young agent.

  “Sir, as much as I want to, I don’t know if it is in my place to debrief you.”

  Director Harris looks around the room, puzzled, as the atmosphere in the room seems to be getting heavier. He motions his hands as if he was weighing the air, when a voice appears to come from everywhere and has him turning around looking for the source.

  “Doctor Sydney Harris, astrophysicist from California Polytechnic State University?”

  Stunned, Director Harris finds himself staring at a man wearing a variety of clothes in an attempt to cover himself. Watching the man keep his head down and his face out of view, the director shifts his stance and folds his hands in front of him. “I have not had the nomenclature in quite some time. I see you have me at a disadvantage.” Glancing over at the young agent and seeing her nervousness, He looks back at the mysterious man in front of him. “You know my name, and who might you be?”

  “You understand if I do no tell you that just yet.”

  Rubbing his temples, he tries to contain his impatience. “I have come here in hopes to find answers, I am not fond of riddles.”