by DCS
Caleb jogged down the corridors until he reached the veranda doors off the kitchen. Throwing them open, his gaze centered on Simone’s back. He walked quickly up to her and touched her shoulder. “Madame President? You’ve got a video conference call. They found Isabella.”
Simone tensed. It felt like a very long time since Caleb had touched her. His words spurred her into quick action, though. “Is she all right?” Simone asked as she followed him back into the house.
Caleb’s brows drew together. “No. She escaped Alcyone Island in Kyle’s old seaplane. It ran out of gas about twenty miles from Cape Verde. Someone, maybe our friends from our air fight, found her and hid her until word could get to Xavier. He had her moved to a more secure location. It’s a goddamn miracle she survived the crash, and she was unconscious for a few days. She’s awake now, but she’s in rough condition. Real rough.”
Simone had always been fond of Aunt Isabella. She’d always felt a very strong connection to the woman, and after her little past life regression session, she understood why. Those past connections deepened her affection, and now would heighten her pain when Isabella died. Simone rubbed her fingers against her temple, frowning deeply. She was tired of loss.
Caleb pushed open the doors to the security room. Vasco and Lucien were already there. He hadn’t been terribly close to Isabella this lifetime, but that didn’t matter anymore than it had with Christopher. Caleb had grieved that loss privately.
On the central screen was Isabella’s face. She looked beaten up, beyond exhausted, yet triumphant. Simone’s brows pinched, and she struggled to get control of the expression on her face as he walked past Caleb and over to her brothers.
“Xavier has the journal. It’s on its way to you,” Isabella said.
“Thank you for getting it,” Vasco said. That was no small thing. If Kayla or any of the others had gotten their hands on it first, checkmate might not occur.
“No thanks needed, Vasco. I’m glad to go out this way. Though Christopher might have crashed with more finesse.” There was a mixture of sadness and amusement in Isabella’s aged eyes.
“Do you need anything, Aunt Isabel? Can we do anything for you?” Lucien asked, his voice cracking slightly.
“Win.” Isabella smiled and closed her eyes. “Just win.”
“You bet your ass we’re going to win,” Simone said, coming to stand next to Vasco. He and Lucien nodded in agreement.
Isabella’s gaze snapped open, and her smile deepened. “I imagine that you’re very much like mother used to be when she was younger.”
“I’ve drawn a few comparisons,” Simone said softly.
“You don’t know what it meant, to Christopher and I, to see you two again before it all ended. Even if you look different.” Isabella gazed at Simone, and then lifted her eyes to Caleb. “Sorry about the plane. Dad.”
Caleb gave Isabella a trembling smile. “Frankly, Bell,” he said, using the nickname that Kyle had for his daughter, “I’m surprised you didn’t crash it sooner.”
Simone pressed her fingers against her mouth, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. Isabella laughed, but the motion caused her face to quickly contort with pain. She took a few deep breaths to work through it, and then dropped her head back against the pillows. “We missed the two of you so much when you left. To watch Caleb look at you, Simone, the way Dad use to look at mom, it just reminded us what we were fighting for.”
Caleb couldn’t find his voice, so he smiled. Simone lost the battle and the tears came, sliding silently down her cheeks. She didn’t look back at Caleb, but kept her gaze on Isabella. “I’m glad we could give that to you.”
Isabella suddenly looked more alert. Frowning, her gaze darted between Simone and Caleb. “Oh, for God’s sake, you two can’t possibly be playing that game.”
Vasco refrained from comment, though he did slide his sister a sideways glance. He was not surprised when she ignored him. “We’ve got a job to do right now, Isabella,” Simone said quietly.
“There’s always a goddamn job to do. You and Dad died together doing a job.” Isabella threw a hand up in the air. She set the full force of her gaze on Simone. “The past is just a memory. The future hasn’t even gotten here yet. The only thing that’s real is the now. Why are you wasting it?”
“Because she wouldn’t be Simone or Lil if she wasn’t sabotaging herself,” Lucien said, sniffling as he glanced over at his sister.
Simone didn’t bother shooting Lucien a murderous glare. She was too busy being proud, and heartbroken, and terrified that everyone was right. “Lil was very proud of you. And I’m so lucky to have gotten to know you this lifetime, too.” She smiled through her tears. “I love you, Aunt Isabella.”
Isabella’s eyes shone wetly. “Regret hurts more than loss. Remember that.” Thoughts of John, briefly took up space in her mind. Kayla had shot him as they were trying to escape. Swallowing back her own tears, Isabella pushed the thought away so she could smile at Simone. “And I love you, too. You, too, Caleb.”
Caleb swallowed hard, searching for his voice. “Kick ass and take names your next lifetime, too, Bell. Your mother wasn’t the only one who was proud, and I love you, too.”
“Sir, that’s time. We’ve got to terminate the connection per Mr. Xavier Zhane’s instructions,” said one of the Security officers.
Vasco nodded. “Try and hang on, Aunt Isabella. Your son is on his way.”
Isabella smiled. “I’ll wait for him. Good luck, you three.” Without lingering any longer, Isabella pressed the button to terminate the connection on her end. It would be the last time they saw her.
Caleb cleared his throat. “Excuse me.” Turning on his heel, he quickly left the room.
Simone continued to stare at the blank screen, biting her bottom lip as the tears ran down her cheeks.
Lucien dragged his hands over his face. “I really can’t wait until we end this.”
“Me too, brother,” Vasco said quietly.
Lucien looked over at Simone and nudged her with his shoulder. “Isabel was right, yah know.”
Simone closed her eyes, slowly shaking her head. “What’s the point of getting close to someone if you’re just going to lose them?”
“Loss sucks, Si, but it comes with the territory. Besides, our remembering past lives proves that we don’t really lose anything. Apparently, we get to do it all over again, anytime we want to,” Lucien said.
Simone’s face pinched as she wrapped her arms around herself. “That doesn’t change the now.”
Lucien glanced over at Vasco, and Vasco stepped closer to his sister. “You were right about me, about last lifetime, and this one. Well, semi-right. There’s no denying that SVT loved himself and his ego, but we loved other people, too.”
Simone opened her tear-filled eyes and looked up to Vasco. “I know you did. Do. I didn’t mean—”
“Wait. Let me finish.” Vasco blew out a breath. Confessions didn’t come easily. “Simone, I am going through the motions. I’ve done a lot of self-searching these past five months, figuring out where Stefano begins and I end. And what I keep coming back to, when I think about the world, is that moment I had with Cleona before she left.” For once, the veil lifted from Vasco’s eyes, exposing so much emotion. “I miss her so much I can barely function, and that moment I had made it worse. But I can’t imagine not having that opportunity. I can’t imagine not taking it, even if I had known that she would be gone when I woke up. I cannot fathom the rest of the world not having their own moments of connection in between ego, and selfish ambition, and all the other petty, human drama we choose to engage in. There’s no point without it. The rest is just a game. A silly fucking game. Those are the moments that are real.” He set his hands on his sister’s shoulders. “Take them, Simone.”
Simone drew in a deep, trembling breath, lifting a hand to wipe her tears away. She traded glances between her brothers, allowing the words to sink in. It was the same type of language her heart had
been trying to communicate with her, ever since she’d shut Caleb off. She gave them a small nod. “I’ll think about it.”
Lucien chuckled, and a small flicker of amusement passed through Vasco’s eyes. “Stubborn to a fault.” Lucien leaned forward and kissed Simone’s forehead. “Don’t think too long, or hard. I’m going to go do laps in the pool.”
Vasco gave Simone’s shoulders a gentle squeeze, and then released her. “I’ll be in the library.” Both men left the control room.
Simone remained, chewing on her bottom lip. After realizing that she was probably making the controllers in the room uncomfortable, she looked at the man on her left. “Get me a location on Mr. Kincade.”
It only took a few keystrokes before a dot appeared on the man’s screen. “He’s on the patio off the main living room, ma’am.”
“Thank you.” When Simone left the security center, her steps faltered. Her brows furrowed with the array of thoughts that bombarded her mind and warred with much deeper, simpler emotions.
“Regret hurts more than loss.”
Determination flashing through her eyes, she stopped hesitating and strode quickly through the house.
Chapter 18
“Neither a lofty degree of intelligence nor imagination nor both together go to the making of genius. Love, love, love, that is the soul of genius.”
- Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
December 11, 2012 - 12:44 PM
Somewhere in Egypt
Terenzio Compound
Simone found Caleb sitting on a stone step that overlooked the gardens. Her eyes traced the tension in his shoulders, the rigid line of his back. She could guess pretty accurately the cause of it. Taking a deep breath, she walked towards him. “Caleb?”
Caleb felt her before she broke the silence. He pressed his fingers over his eyes and took another second to regain his composure, before he stood up and turned around. “Yes, Madame President?”
Simone hated him calling her that, but she couldn’t bitch when she was the one that had put up the blockade. Silently, she searched his face. His eyes were still damp, lingering evidence of the tears he’d cleared away, and it made her heart ache more than it already did. He had been such a good father in that lifetime. He would have been in this one, too. “Promise me that you won't be the next one we lose."
Caleb’s blue eyes gentled as he slowly shook his head. "You know I can't.” A wry smile touched his lips. “I can only promise to play the part of the big goddamn hero."
His answer threatened to bring more tears to Simone’s eyes. *If Caleb was going to play that part, then he was as good as dead. Simone couldn't—wouldn't—change him, but that meant that she had been right; there would be no happy endings this lifetime. At least, not for them. She could take that knowledge and make the now more precious for its fragility, or she could waste more if it and continue to shut herself off from Caleb.
“Is there anything else you need, Madame President?”
Pressing her lips tightly together, Simone shook her head. She did not miss the whisper of sadness that passed through Caleb’s eyes. He nodded and went to walk past her, but her hand shot out and captured his, halting his motions. Every muscle in Caleb’s form knotted. He paused and looked over his shoulder in silent question.
It would hurt when Simone lost him, regardless of the choices she made, but Isabella and her grandfather they were right. Vasco was right. Without the expression of that one precious emotion, what was she—what were they—really fighting for? The cliché was an inescapable truth; they could give humanity all the choices it wanted, but without love wrapped around it all, the world was doomed to repeat the same mistakes over and over again. She was doomed to repeat the same mistakes over and over again. “Don’t go,” she whispered.
“No games, Simone.” Caleb turned to face her. “I couldn’t handle it.”
Simone stepped into him, lifting her other hand to touch his face, and let the tears fall where they may. “No games. Just us.”
Caleb briefly closed his eyes. A different sort of tension knotted the muscles in his shoulders as he framed Simone’s waist with his hands. “You don’t get to change your mind twice.”
Simone shook her head. “I won’t want to. I’m so sorry, Caleb. I’ve wasted so much time.”
“Yeah, you have.” Caleb pressed his forehead to hers. “But you can make it up to me.”
A trembling smile touched Simone’s lips. “I love you,” she breathed, and before he could say anything else, she pressed her mouth tightly against his to prove it.
§
December 12, 2012 - 9:11 AM
Somewhere in Egypt
Terenzio Compound
“When did Robert say he would be back?” Abe asked. He was standing in the laboratory in the south wing of the compound. The device on the table in front of him was three feet tall, in the shape of a bullet, with three metal, claw-like feet coming out of the bottom. Abe had a small gold panel open and was connecting two brightly colored wires.
“He didn’t. I hope everything is all right.” Shirley stood at a table across from Abe, in front of a laptop computer. “Okay, that’s it, Abe. I read her now.”
“And I didn’t electrocute myself that time.” Abe twirled his screwdriver triumphantly, then closed the panel. “She’s all set.”
“Let’s switch her on.” Derek took one end of the machine, and Abe grabbed the other. Carefully, they set the device on to the floor.
“Everybody back up in case I didn’t do that right.” Abe picked up a small remote from the table and walked to the other side of the room. Shirley and Derek followed. Abe pressed the button, and the feet of the device dug into the floor, making holes. Inside the shiny gold casing, an oscillator began to hum. A second later, the team felt a faint vibration underneath their feet.
Derek nodded. “Okay, she works, turn it off.”
Abe pressed another button, and the vibration stopped.
“I hope when Simone uses these they do more than just make the floor shake.” Shirley pulled the goggles off her eyes.
“Me, too,” Derek agreed. “But we can’t really test it without causing an earthquake, so we’ll just have to hope we did it right.”
“Your science is correct.”
Derek, Abe and Shirley all turned at the unexpected voice. Their eyes widened. The color drained from Abe’s face. Shirley gripped Derek’s arm as they all stared.
Two beings stood before them, a man and a woman, approximately six feet tall, with pale skin, blond hair, and solid blue eyes. What was more amazing than their sudden appearance was the halo of light that surrounded the backs of their heads.
“We will need to commune with you, and those who work with you,” said the man.
“Are they angels?” Abe whispered incredulously.
The woman smiled. “No. Pleiadians.”
§
December 12, 2012 - 10:12 PM
Pittsburgh, PA
Illuminati Headquarters
The stone floors echoed with Caesar’s sharp steps. Tony wrestled behind him, but his efforts were weak and pointless. Caesar kept dragging him as if he were nothing more than a sack, and stopped in front of a pair of doors, lifting his gaze to the security camera. After he was identified, they slid open.
Inside the room, six of the twelve members of the Roshaniya were gathered. Two were in the traditional white robes. They were ready to begin a pre-celebration ritual, something they had personally come up with to take better advantages of the energies of fear created by their propaganda machine.
Caesar flung Tony in ahead of him. The men turned, staring down at the DeMarco, then looked up at Caesar. Timothy Rockefeller, head of the forthcoming NAU, looked at Caesar with dangerous curiosity. “What is the meaning of this interruption?”
“He’s a traitor, sir,” Caesar declared, and removed the recording device from his pocket. He played back one of the phone conversations between Tony and Alex.Tony rose to his knees, with his hands bou
nd in front of him, and cracked his neck. “I prefer the term double agent, but whatever floats your boat.”
Caesar stepped into Tony, slamming his fist into Tony’s already beaten face. Tony grunted and fell to the side, blood spilling from his lips.
“You hit like a girl,” Tony muttered, pushing himself back up to his knees, and spit another wad of red onto the floor.
Rockefeller came down the stone steps, closer to Tony. “He is feeding information to the Terenzios?”
“Yes, sir,” Caesar said.
The other members came closer, their gazes fully focused on Tony. The air thickened, grew denser from the dark energy that radiated off of them, their nefarious thoughts swirling through the air.
Tony winced, because he could feel it; their hatred, their fear, as palpable as a touch crawling over his skin. “You know, after a few centuries, with all the scared knowledge at your fingers, I would have thought you were smart enough to get a fuckin’ clue and get over it.” He slid his gaze around at the men as they came toward him. “Guess not.”
Underneath the collar of Tony’s shirt, cowering against the back of his neck, was Gabriella. She pressed her warm little hand against the back of his neck and squeezed her eyes shut, sending him good thoughts, reminding him that death was nothing but transformation, and thanking him profusely for what he had sacrificed for this grand experiment called Ascension.
Tony felt her, but gave no outward indication. Rockefeller came to stand in front of him and grabbed him roughly by the hair, yanking his head back. “Is this true, slave?”
“Yeah, yeah, it’s true.” Tony’s sharp blue eyes narrowed. “But I’m not your fucking slave. I never was.”
“What gives you the right to think you can rise up against the very Gods that made you?” Augustus Saintclair hissed in pure anger.
Tony kept his gaze centered on Rockefeller. “You know what? My God is not your God. You go to hell.” He spit right in Rockefeller’s face.