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Preserving Will

Page 22

by Alex Albrinck


  Will rolled his eyes. “I’m not thirty-five yet, young lady. And just because I’ve got a few years on you doesn’t make me old.”

  “Age is but a number,” Hope intoned. “It’s how old you feel that matters, right?”

  “Indeed it is,” Will agreed. “And if you want to feel young, marry someone much younger than you. I highly recommend doing so if you get the chance.”

  Hope nodded, stifling a strong urge to laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind.” She paused for a moment. “Seriously, though, what do you want for your birthday? You haven’t told me.”

  Will sighed. “It’s pretty stupid, actually.”

  “Not telling me is pretty stupid. I can’t get you what you want if I don’t know what it is. I’m not a mind reader, you know.” Hope could only imagine the laughter this conversation would generate for an audience of her Alliance friends. She, of course, knew exactly what he wanted, and knew that giving him exactly that would play into the plans they’d made for that fateful day on Monday.

  “The truth is… I’d like to be normal, for just one day,” Will said, his tone almost apologetic. “I don’t want a driver, or a group of bodyguards following me everywhere. I want to drive myself to work, sit at a desk, and just do work. And then I want to come home to my wife and son and go out to a nice dinner with them. Nothing like that is possible now. And I don’t like it.” He sighed. “It’s like I’ve forgotten who I am. I just want to be the real me for one day.”

  Hope had known about his fear of losing his true identity to that of the business tycoon the world knew for some time. And she knew how desperately he longed for greater simplicity in his life.

  It wasn’t just the demands on his time. Will had developed a reputation for spontaneously funding new businesses, and his unprecedented record of success in doing so had accelerated his wealth accumulation. He couldn’t spend, invest, or give money away faster than it came in. Such success didn’t go unnoticed, and many were willing to threaten Will directly to get that lucky charm of a Stark investment into their own lives and businesses. While the frustration of another avenue of threats upon his life weighed upon him, the true pressure he felt was the pressure he put upon himself. Each publicized success seemed to spur the economy forward just a bit more, and now, with the country officially out of both depression and recession, Will had no interest in making a mistake that would destroy the psychology of confidence in the country. Some might view that as arrogance. For Will, though, the amount of influence he possessed in national and international economic matters was a burden and a curse, one he’d happily transfer to anyone else with the proper ability and motivation.

  Will didn’t see himself as an influential global leader. In many ways, he was still the boy who wanted nothing more than to be accepted by, and loved by, his parents, a child who wanted to fit in more than stand out. Fate had a different role in mind for him, one that pushed him into a spotlight he hated, but one he accepted as his duty.

  For a man like that, anything simulating normalcy was a gift of inestimable value.

  “I understand what you mean, but you’ve forgotten nothing. The world is a better place for you being in it, and the enthusiasm it shows for what you say and do… I think of it as positive feedback for someone who’s earned and deserves it. Don’t be afraid of who you are, Will, and don’t be afraid to do what’s right.” She grinned. “And on your birthday, what’s right is whatever you decide you want to do.”

  He smiled. “Then let’s be normal people on Monday. We’ll finish the day as a family going out to dinner at a nice restaurant.” He looked wistfully over to where Josh sat, emotionless as ever in his father’s presence. “And maybe… maybe he’ll talk to me. That’s the greatest birthday present possible.”

  Hope smiled. She’d taken the pregnancy test yesterday, confirming what she’d known for the past few days. Will had another wonderful gift waiting for him, but it was one that he’d not learn about until their adult daughter revealed her identity nearly two centuries into the future. Will’s focus was on the present, though. “Maybe he will,” she replied. “Where do you want to go for dinner?” Her eyes twinkled. “I think I know this answer, even without being able to read your mind.”

  He smiled. “You know me too well. But yes, I would definitely like a steak dinner.”

  “I’ll call and make reservations, then. I assume you’ll tell Lance to take the day off on Monday, then?”

  Will nodded. “And I’ll have to put up with hours of his stories about what horrors await and what tragedy will destroy me without his constant attention.” He shrugged. “I can take care of myself.”

  Not yet, Hope thought. “He cares about you, Will. But tell him. And don’t forget, you’re the boss, not Lance. If he doesn’t like it, fire him.”

  “Maybe I’ll take the gun with me,” Will muttered. “He’ll know I’m serious then, won’t he?”

  “I think it’s probably best that you not go around showing off your illegal weapon, or the incredible accuracy you possess for someone who’s never legally fired that weapon.”

  “I’ll take that counsel under advisement,” Will replied, chuckling. He paused, as if remembering something. “Do you have the vouchers?”

  She nodded, and retrieved an envelope on her desk. “I’m really happy for the two of them. It’s nice to help out such a young couple just as they’re starting their lives together, isn’t it?”

  “You do realize that she’s older than you were when we got married, right?”

  “Really? There’s someone in the world who married at a more advanced age than me? I haven’t heard that in… well, not in the last day or two.”

  Will laughed and accepted the envelope. “And on that note, I’m off to make Mark’s day and ruin Lance’s. I’ll see you later.” He gave her a quick kiss, and then headed out the front door, where the armor-plated limousine with bulletproof glass and security contingent waited for him.

  Hope waited until the vehicle rounded the bend, and then teleported to the bunker, where she typically did her work related to the Project 2030 efforts. She initiated a video call using the secured Alliance communication channels on her tablet computer.

  Adam, in his Cain Freeman disguise, sat in his data center office located in downtown Pleasanton, and nodded as he accepted her call. “Morning, Hope. I’ve gotten approval for my two weeks of vacation. They were only waiting to make sure the project we completed before the end of the year didn’t have any unexpected problems, and it didn’t.” He paused, noticing her look. “Something’s bothering you, isn’t it?”

  “Outside the fact that I have only three days left with my husband?” She sighed, and then choked back a sob, drawing a raised eyebrow from Adam. “Yes, something else is bothering me. Will came home from work yesterday quite excited. That young couple I’ve mentioned? It seems they got engaged on New Year’s Eve. It was very romantic, I’m sure.” She paused. “I don’t know, Adam. That just… something about the timing bothers me. He’s one of the guards who will have an unpleasant encounter with the Assassin.”

  Adam blinked several times, and Hope felt sorry for him. He’d spent decades worrying about everything that needed to be done to ensure Will survived the attack on Monday without alerting the Aliomenti to an actual Alliance presence. Their information from the future—through the diary, through Will’s memories—said nothing about a newsworthy event like an engagement involving one of the expected victims of the attack.

  Adam finally spoke. “You think this changes the plan for Monday, then? That the news of the engagement is something that the Hunters will uncover, and that it will change their plans before or after they… visit?”

  She nodded at the screen. “Possibly. Yes. I’m having these visions of things going very poorly for the newly engaged young woman on Monday. But it’s more than just a plan being altered, Adam. I’m really fond of that girl. And all of this has me worried that we made a mistake in choosing not to clone her or the MacLeans
, even though, with the information we had until now, it made complete sense.” She paused. “Have we made a mistake, Adam?”

  Adam wondered if they’d made a mistake as well. Gena was engaged to a man set to die a brutal death in mere days. Might that change in relationship status mean the Hunters would be more likely to target her for elimination? It would certainly be their style… they frowned upon committed relationships. And he, like Hope, suddenly had a premonition of Gena coming face-to-face with the Assassin or one of the Hunters, and not living to tell the tale.

  He needed to maintain his cool, both to avoid suspicion as to his motives in protecting Gena, and as the man coordinating their efforts for Monday. When he spoke again, he ensured he did so in a confident tone. “I’ll follow her for the next day or so, and see if anything looks suspicious. The Hunters should be here no later than tomorrow, prepping for the attack. I’ll walk around as Cain because the Hunters… sort of know my real face.”

  Hope nodded. Adam’s father, also called Adam, was a founding member of the Aliomenti like Will, and his betrayal of the Elites on behalf of the Alliance had only been discovered and confirmed as the man lay dying ninety years earlier. If the Hunters saw Adam, a man known to be dead, they’d be extremely suspicious. “That’s a good idea,” she replied. “Nothing’s changed with Deron’s family; still married, still one young child. I don’t have that same sense of foreboding. But… if you find anything, we have to move quickly to protect the families.”

  “I’ll watch her, Hope. I promise.”

  “Thanks, Adam.”

  “Any updates on the timing?”

  “I talked to Archie yesterday. They found a way to bypass a step that’s supposed to cut about twenty percent off the total time for the cloning. Said he can’t believe they didn’t find it before. So… that should put us at around three hours, forty-five minutes now.”

  Adam whistled. “They got under the four hour barrier? Nice. Is Graham ready?”

  “Yes. He knows Myra needs to get out of the neighborhood as early as possible Monday morning to give us as much time as possible to replace the guards with their clones. Graham said he told her there’s some construction on the way to one of her favorite shops, and they need to leave early to avoid it. I hope that story works.”

  “Got it. That’s good. Based on the lighting in the memory videos, he should get her back to De Gray Estates around five o’clock.”

  “He knows, Adam. Michael’s going to be hovering above everything and will be in constant contact with Graham to make sure Myra’s back on time.”

  “Sorry, I’m just… really nervous. It’s almost here.”

  “I’m well aware of that.” Hope’s expression turned icy. “Early Monday evening, I’ll be staring down an Energy-wielding Assassin with blood-red eyes, while trying at the same time to hide the existence of my immensely powerful son.”

  “Right,” Adam said, feeling awkward. Hope watched him glance away from the screen briefly, and then focus back on her with a look of deepest concern and sympathy. “Looks like Will’s here, Hope. I should get going.”

  “Okay,” Hope said. “Talk to you later.”

  She ended the connection, stunned at the thought that Adam had accidentally projected at her when they’d been discussing Mark and Gena. Was it possible? It couldn’t be true, could it? She shook her head. It certainly explained a lot, though. But she had no time at present to decide what to do about his revelation; at the moment, it changed nothing about the next few days. She put the thought from her mind and went to check on Josh.

  Adam sat in his office, feeling the cold air of the chillers inside the data center. The machines were meant to keep the high cost machinery in the room from overheating, but at the moment, he was certain he needed it more than the computers. Gena had gotten engaged. Hope had had some sort of vision, or premonition, that something bad was going to happen. She’d even suggested that they’d need to alter their plans, somehow clone the families of the guards. He took several steadying gulps of air. After everything he’d done to make sure Gena lived, would this one act seal her death, especially since he’d argued strongly against cloning significant others and family members due to their low perceived risk of suffering an attack?

  He’d need to follow her. He had to make sure that she didn’t somehow run into the Hunters, draw their attention, and make herself a target for their human cleanup efforts after the failed attack on the Stark house.

  And he’d thought everything was going so well.

  Once he’d finally managed to compose himself, Adam, as Cain, rose from his chair and moved out of his office inside the data center. They’d offered to warm his office, but he’d insisted that the room be kept at the same temperature as the outside floor space so that he could work on a machine at his desk if needed. The cacophonous blast of computers and fans, the thrum of the vast amounts of electricity required to power it all, the vigorous, fresh blast of cold air as he walked from the room, all jarred him back into his role as Cain Freeman.

  He left the data center, letting the door close behind him with an audible click as the electronic lock system engaged. He was one of few people allowed physical access inside the room, where the company housed its most sensitive and confidential data. He chuckled. Millard Howe had no way of knowing that the data center he thought he’d be traveling to in a few weeks was actually located in Pleasanton itself.

  Cain saw David Richardson, his former classmate and longtime work colleague, walking down the hallway. The man’s freckles, which covered his youthful face, were scrunched together, reflecting the somber, pensive look David bore. David often walked around, seeing nothing, trying to resolve some complex production issue with the nanos. Like Cain, David had made a name for himself at Stark Enterprises. It was David who’d figured out how to get the nanoparticles to bind to each other in programmable patterns that had allowed them to build the Dome two years earlier. If David had something in mind, it was undoubtedly brilliant. Cain moved to the side of the hallway to ensure the freckle-faced man could pass.

  David seemed to realize he was being watched and looked up, as if surprised anyone else was in the building. “Oh. Hey, Cain.” He seemed to lose his train of thought for a moment before realizing more communication was necessary. “How… how are you?”

  “I’m okay, I guess,” Cain replied. “I just have a lot of things on my mind.”

  “Work related?”

  “No. Just… worried about a friend. You? You look a bit… distracted.”

  “Yeah, I am,” David said, exhaling a deep sigh. “Remember how I mentioned that my cousin was having some health issues? She’s taken a turn for the worse. Her parents—my aunt and uncle—are having to take time off work to be with her, and it sounds like my uncle just lost his job. They’ve always been there for me, Cain, and I think I need to go there now to help them out.”

  “Will they be okay?” Cain asked, frowning in concern.

  “I… I think so,” David replied. “But I won’t know for sure until I go check on them.” He glanced up. “Anyway, I hope your friend’s issues get resolved.”

  “I hope your cousin regains her health, and your uncle gets his job back,” Cain replied, acknowledging David’s concern with a nod. Cain offered his hand, the two men shook, and both continued on their way.

  Cain walked through the maze of hallways and took an elevator to the seventh floor, where Will kept his day-to-day office. The penthouse suite was rarely used; Will felt uncomfortable with the ostentatious layout and furnishings, and so they reserved the penthouse for large corporate meetings. Cain heard loud voices inside Will’s office as he approached the door, slightly ajar, and paused.

  “…must strongly argue against the idea, Mr. Stark.” The voice belonged to Lance Maynard, Will’s chief of security. “While I appreciate the sentimentality, it is my job to keep you safe so that you can continue to have such foolish sentiments again tomorrow.”

  “I appreciate your concern
for my well-being, Lance, but that’s my final decision. One day. That’s all.”

  “I do not want to hear that I’ll have another day off on Tuesday because some crazed lunatics realized what you were doing and were successful in an abduction or assassination attempt, Mr. Stark.”

  “I’ll leave word with my public relations team, Lance. Should anything of the sort happen, they’re to make it clear in press releases that my actions Monday were against your advice and that you and your team were not on duty at the time of the mishap.”

  There was a pause. “You do realize that we’ll continue this conversation on the way home this evening.”

  “It’s why you’re the best, Lance. You stubbornly refuse to listen to me.”

  A moment later, Lance Maynard squeezed himself through the door. He seemed startled to find Cain Freeman standing there, and glared at the smaller man. “Freeman. Perhaps you’ll be able to talk sense into the man. I certainly haven’t had any success on that front today.” And he stormed off.

  Cain watched him, puzzled. That was the appropriate reaction for one who didn’t know that Will’s “sentimentality” for Monday was essential to the history of the world. Then he shrugged, as Maynard disappeared from sight, and knocked on Will’s door. “Come in, Cain,” Will called.

  Cain Freeman entered the main office of Will Stark. The founder of Stark Enterprises International, a man with a net worth estimated at a half trillion dollars, a man whose philanthropic budget dwarfed those of most nations, a man whose shrewd investments and advice over the past decade were viewed as singularly responsible for pulling his country from the abyss of an economic depression… that man sat with his shoeless feet propped up on his desk, lounging back in his chair, fingers laced behind his head, with his eyes closed.

  Cain shut the door. “Sir… are you okay?”

  Will’s jade green eyes snapped open, and there seemed to be an unusual intensity to them. “Never better. Why do you ask?”

 

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