by T. K. Toppin
The scowl left Josie’s face, but she kept the pout. “Fine.” She watched him as he took a cautious step to her.
John curled a hand around her arm and pulled her closer. He folded her into his arms, pressed her head firmly to his shoulder and planted a soft kiss at the back of her neck. “I’m an idiot.”
Her body jerked with a snort. “A big one,” she replied in his shoulder.
Laughing softly, he closed his eyes. It felt good to hold her, to connect with her. Easing away, he cupped her face and kissed her gently, her lips a salve to his soul. “Come. Let’s see what my brother has to say.”
“I get to come with you?” Her tone pitched higher with excitement.
He grinned, and tugged her along next to him. “Better to keep you close than have you getting into trouble…and bumping into old boyfriends.” He muttered the last bit with a pronounced sneer, to which she rolled her eyes. The fighting was gone, they were back to normal again, and John felt a wave of delirious joy. Note to self. John reached for her hand and squeezed it with affection. Avoid manhandling these women from three centuries ago. They tend to get very offended.
Just as Simon had said, they found Adam in the conservatory of John’s office. He stood in profile, arms clasped behind him, head tipped up and eyes closed as if sunning under the conservatory’s artificial lights. He looked very much like a man who had just recovered from a long illness, skin pallid, with a certain tinge of yellow. His thin frame appeared more stooped and hollow, and for a moment, concern for his brother washed over John. It had to be a mistake, a big misunderstanding. But something else nipped and prodded inside him. He had to know the truth. He had to hear Adam say otherwise.
John held Josie’s hand. It didn’t happen often, this open show of affection while in public, but it gave him a certain confidence, like a united front. Josie, in tune to his emotions, gave his hand a bolstering squeeze as they joined Adam.
The room smelled of jasmine and tuberoses, which bloomed in a corner near a trickling fountain. Water ran from it, collected into a small pond, then meandered into a stream that snaked down one side. Fat koi filled the stream, and occasionally a lazy splash could be heard.
John, Josie, and Adam stood before the fountain, amid a cluster of chairs and small tables. Before them, a massive rose-colored crystal formation was embedded into the floor. To keep an atmosphere of the outdoors, the floor was laid with cobbled bricks in a rustic reddish-brown. Neglected leaves and blossoms lay scattered on the floor, adding to the effect. All around, brambles of plants and shrubs bloomed, and vines twisted and weaved. A few taller shrubs and small trees, such as flowering Japanese cherry, birch, and even a magnolia, grew along the perimeter, lending an air of a secluded forest. John liked it that way, calming disorder to counter his structured life. His sanctuary, his favorite place. In the summer, an entire section of the glass roof opened up to let in real sunlight and air, and he could spend hours here, alone with his thoughts.
“John. Josie.” Adam inclined his head, a slight crease between his brows. “What’s this about? I was in a meeting with some clients from New York. Could this not have waited? And you need to teach Simon some manners.”
“Tell me, Adam.” John released Josie’s hand and walked in a deliberately slow semi-circle so he faced his brother. “What were you doing in Britain? North Yorkshire, to be precise.”
Adam batted his eyes for a moment; a trait, John knew, that meant his brother was thinking. The sight made his heart flutter. Conjuring a lie? His thoughts turned black in an instant, and he didn’t want to hear what Adam would say next.
Adam smiled at Josie. “Ah, the jig is up then. I did wonder if you had seen me.”
John’s heart plummeted. He sucked in a breath and swallowed.
Josie waggled her fingers at Adam, mimicking his strange tapping habit. She watched him with a curious expression, much like how a scientist inspects an odd specimen. John noted how she had positioned herself in the ready-stance Mrs. Trudesson had taught her, legs slightly apart, arms loose at her side. The sight brought a miniscule smile to his lips.
Adam smiled wearily and cleared his throat. “I think I’d better start from the beginning.”
“Please do.” John inclined his head, placing himself near the crystal formation, more to keep from pummeling his brother with punches. “Tell me everything. Everything, you understand?”
Adam lingered before some chairs. Rubbing his mouth, he appeared to be composing his thoughts. After a long pause, he spoke. “You see…the nature of my business attracts a very…diverse group of individuals. You’d be surprised at what you begin to hear and see among the various clients I have. My company was approached, twice, quite some time ago. Six years to be precise. Of course, it’s not a well-known fact who I am or my family connections, and I only meet face-to-face with a select number of people.
“My company was asked to manage the affairs of a Michael Ho. It seemed harmless enough. He is an industrialist, dealing with a number of business ventures about which he needed advice. I sent in one of my best men to act on my behalf. But then things started to get quite interesting. Ho began wanting advice on matters of, to put it bluntly, war. Of course, that sent up red flags everywhere. Now, I admit, I am not much for rigid scruples and, given the right motivation, there is not a job I wouldn’t refuse. After all, I provide a service, and anyone willing to pay my price will get it. But that was when I decided to step in personally. This not unusual at all; after all, it was getting quite sensitive, and I felt I needed to get involved personally. To see for myself the type of client he was.
“I disguised myself, of course. There was no way I would ever openly show myself. You know how paranoid I am, John.” Adam paused, and took a seat in one of the chairs. He appeared paler than ever, and looked like he might faint at any moment. Yet he still made light of the situation and let out a satisfied “Ahh” as he sat.
He continued. “I knew already what Ho was inquiring about: armed forces for hire. He had made subtle inquiries to various people and organizations. Then he latched himself to Wellesley, hoping to tap into his resources of mercenaries and contacts. Wellesley’s business was also a plus. Ho could attract the right contracts for him, thereby placing them both in a very convenient position.
“It was clear from the beginning that Ho was not the person in charge. He answered to someone, and he’d made it known many times that he acted on behalf of his employer. However, hesitant as I was, he kept throwing money at me. And well, that is my weakness.
“I met first with Ho, alone, in Taiwan. He came to me. We discussed many things, not just warfare. Economics, effects and affects, world trends and so on, with the underlying meaning of what would happen in times of war. Ho was a high-paying client, and I did my best to meet all his demands as professionally as I could. We consulted electronically for a number of months, and then we met again at Wellesley’s. I knew from the moment I saw him that Wellesley was a reluctant participant, if not a little misguided. He was not committed. Not like Ho. And then we were interrupted, by none other than yourself, Josie.
“I knew you hadn’t seen me, but I had to be sure. You understand my position. To be seen in the company of unscrupulous individuals, and me being a Lancaster—bad news. So I inquired about you discreetly and was told some silly story I didn’t buy. Ho was very…upset. He wanted you…gone…the moment you interrupted us. In fact, he’d wanted you dead earlier, or so he confided to me. His employer did not like loose ends. It was Wellesley who stopped him after you interrupted us. I suggested quietly to Ho that if he wanted Wellesley’s help, he should leave you be.
“It was a quirk of circumstance that got you inadvertently caught up in that bombing in London. I had no idea it was happening, but afterward, I realized why. You see, Ho knew certain questionable billing and shipping records were archived in those offices. He needed the database erased—permanently. While these records were all legitimate, he didn’t want them being traced back to him
. When I heard that Lora was killed…I was furious. It sickened me. I questioned Ho’s intentions without letting on about my relationship to Lora. Honestly, if he wanted records erased, hack the network and go from there. Don’t resort to violent measures. But Ho was unrepentant, as if blowing up a place with people inside was of no consequence. And then he admitted something else, that he represented an extremist group calling themselves The Path, headed by a man called Uron Koh. His employer.
“I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, but by then it was too late. People were dead or targeted, and my recommendations and suggestions—my pleas—went unheard. I feared I might be targeted next. I was a loose end in their opinion, but my saving grace was my disguise. No one recognized me, and no one knew who the real head of my company was. I was safe—but for how long, I was unsure. An army had already been built, several of them. Josie was caught, Wellesley questioned. They panicked. Ho vanished as well. I tried to track him, but lost him somewhere in Tokyo.
“Uron Koh, now, that is a curious matter. He did not exist. And there was no way Ho had all the resources to fund several armies on his own, unless getting it from somewhere else. I should know, as I managed his businesses, in a manner of speaking, a complementary service I offer to better direct a client to attain the end purposes they hired me for. I scoured every associate I knew who had anti-government leanings—and there are quite a few—who could possibly have lent money. I found one or two foreign companies, but by and far, Koh was a soloist with a following. I got wind Wellesley was looking too. He was angered by Ho’s actions. I told Ho he would be. Never mess with a man’s woman, I said. But did Ho listen? Did Uron Koh listen? So Wellesley, well, he followed me, thinking I might be a key player or something. Smart man. He is very resourceful. And I led him, intentionally of course, pretty close to what I already knew or had figured out. I knew he’d try to help Josie. It was his nature, and he has a son to protect. And by helping Josie, he could help you, John. See how the brilliant mind of a strategist works? Tell me, he has been helping you, hasn’t he? But what he doesn’t know yet, or maybe he does, is that Koh is a fantasy. A made up name. A comic character.”
Adam glanced from John to Josie. John couldn’t speak. What Adam said was simply unreal. Beside him, Josie stood with her mouth hanging open, matching his own disbelief. Adam clicked his tongue and shrugged, to indicate that it was the truth.
“You don’t believe me?” Adam smiled. “About a hundred years ago, there was this graphic novel called The Lighted Path created by a young artist, I forget the name. It had quite an underground following. The story revolves around a group of young radical optimists who try to overthrow the ruling empire—ugly, half-human creatures, that sort of thing—of all their wrong and evil ways. The leader of this group was a young, dashing, superhero-styled man who called himself Uron Koh.”
“What are you saying?” John pushed off from the crystal rock formation. His head swirled with all the information.
“Is unbelievable. I know.”
“A battle-cry. That’s what Lorcan said,” Josie muttered.
John growled in frustration. “But why, Adam? Why did you not come to me? Why did you not try to stop it—expose it? How could you even think of associating yourself with all this? My God, Lora is dead because of this! How, Adam, how? And for what? Money?”
“Yes, at first. I couldn’t help it.” Adam appeared genuinely sorry; the sight turned John’s stomach. “But then, later, I tried to get as much information as I could. Why do you think I’m here now? Do you think I wanted this, the attempts on Josie’s life—on yours? I assure you, the objective is not only having you both dead, but everyone else associated with you. You represent the evil empire.”
“How do we know you’re telling us the truth? Can we even trust you?” Josie blurted out.
John spun his head to her, remembering her account of meeting Lorcan in the gardens. “Trust no one…” Wellesley had said. John slowly returned his attention to his brother, suspicion creeping up inside him. He’d known this man all his life. To think him capable of betrayal was a betrayal in itself. But could he? Trust Adam?
“How do we know for sure?” Josie continued. “Lorcan said there’s people on the inside already working for Koh. John also suspects that. You are here. How do we know it’s not you? And if it’s not you, do you know who the insiders are? You already know more about all this than we do. Damn suspicious, if you ask me.”
Adam inclined his head to her. “You don’t know—can’t know for sure. But I can also assure you that Koh will have people on the inside, not just one, but many. He’s not a stupid man. He’s planned this for a very, very long time. He is very clever. I quite envy the man’s brilliance.”
John slammed his palm on the amethyst formation. “You envy the man’s brilliance? Listen to you!” His voice thick with controlled emotion, his throat burned from the bitter bile rising. “The man is a murderer, an extremist! He’ll stop at nothing to get what he wants, and you sit there and tell me you envy his brilliance? What is wrong with you? You do know that we’ve word he’s already inside.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that either. Who is the source of this information? Ahh…Wellesley. Then believe it.” Adam’s lips twisted into a smirk. “You should have that man on your payroll, John. He’d give Simon a run for his money.”
Brushing the comment aside, John stood before his brother, glaring down at him. “Tell me, Adam. The truth. You’re not a part of this, are you?”
“No, John. I am not.” Sounding tired and worn out, Adam’s posture seemed slumped and small as he sat before his brother. “You’ll believe me when you are ready. I fear in my zeal to uncover the truth, I waited too long to act. Much too long. I am truly sorry. You cannot imagine how sorry I am.”
John stared down at his brother. They squared off like gunslingers of old. John couldn’t forget their history, their connection. And now, as if frozen in time, unable to get past this unbelievable obstacle before them, he didn’t know what to do next. Adam, his only brother, the eldest, the natural choice to lead after Father’s death, sat small and shriveled, weak from illness and circumstances. He seemed to almost cower before John, the strong and healthy younger brother, standing tall and proud—with fury blazing inside him.
“What do we do now?” Josie asked quietly, breaking the silence. “Do we run for cover, or stand and fight?”
“A Lancaster does not run. I refuse to run,” John stated flatly. That much he did know. He continued to stare at his brother. “I have a Citadel to protect. A continent. A whole bloody empire. It’s my duty. I can’t turn my back on that. I vowed to change things, to fix the things Grandfather destroyed, and I won’t back down now because a pack of comic-crazed radicals want to take it from me.”
Adam nodded, sitting straighter with obvious effort. “Here’s what you should do. Put me under house arrest. You want to do it anyway. Separate this sector immediately—oh,” he smiled as if reading John’s mind, “I see it has been done already. But let them make the first move. Make my house arrest public. They will relax; feel comfortable enough to move freely, openly. If they are inside, they’ll bide their time, lining up all their pieces and putting them into place. But because they think the pressure is off them, they might get careless—you never know. Those disturbances on the outer perimeters are just that, and merely a distraction. The next move they make will be to overthrow you directly, by any means necessary. You have advantages. Me, for one, and what I have told you, whether you choose to believe it or not. And then there’s Wellesley. They won’t know he’s here or helping you. He’s not so careless as to expose himself in such a way. Use it to your advantage.”
“That distraction…” John balled his fists tightly, his body rigid lest he bludgeon Adam. “That distraction is killing people! Listen to you. This is not some clinical analysis of some hypothetical war. This is real life. Why? Why should I even listen to your advice?”
“Because, John. Let’s face i
t. I’m the best strategist there is. You need me, whether you like it or not. And you know, in here,” Adam pointed to his own chest, “you know it’s the best move on the table. Despite everything, John, I am still your brother. And remember this, too. I do love you.”
Adam’s words echoed empty inside John’s mind. He wanted to believe this was all a bad dream. His heart twisted painfully. His own brother had betrayed him. Had betrayed everyone.
“Tell me something,” Josie said, able to speak when John could not. He gave her a grateful look. She slid her eyes to him and her expression softened. “In the comic book, how does it end?”
“Oh, the little radicals win the war.” Adam gave her an unnervingly cheery smile.
“How did they do it?”
“They burnt the evil city to the ground.”
Despite the situation, John marveled at Adam’s resourcefulness. “And how did you come to know all this? We’ve spent weeks—months—searching every last corner of the earth, trying to get some clue. And you, in a matter of what? Days? Uncover everything we’ve wanted to know about The Path.”
“John, John, John.” Adam sighed and, as though he couldn’t help his own cleverness, smiled a melancholy sort of smile. “It’s amazing what you come across when you spend your days confined to bed, sick as a dog, with nothing but a personal unit and plenty of time. Endless time. I read it about twenty years ago, outsourced it via electronic mail. I thought it was quite dull, then. That is probably why I forgot all about it. But as you can see, someone has not.”
“If this book is out there, then why have we not come across it?” John rounded on his brother.
“Everything is there to be had. You just have to look in the right places.”
John ground his teeth together. Adam, always with his cocky answers.
Josie looked to John. “Are a lot of people dying?”
John gave her a tight nod, his lips pressed together. Anger surged through him, and it tired him. His chest still ached with conflicting emotions. He looked at Josie, unable to hide the pain. “Koh’s army has attacked the border cities in a cowardly move, at night, while people slept. There’s word that more of his troops are coming in from neighboring countries. We’ve had to send in our united air and land troops to defend and counterattack. And not only that, other countries under our protection are being attacked—Germany, Brussels, the Americas, and parts of China—even as close as France and Spain. It’s as if we’re in the clutches of someone’s fist, getting squeezed tighter and tighter. I have to keep our Citadel’s forces here to protect us, but I feel useless that I can’t help the other countries. They should manage with their own defense troops, but still…I should be in a position to help them. This is war.”