Black Tuesday (Area 51: Time Patrol)
Page 26
Sin Fen came striding up to stand next to them. “Very good,” she said to Neeley. “Figuring out he would be here.”
“It was logical,” Neeley said.
“It was the Sight,” Sin Fen said. She was a striking Eurasian woman of indeterminate age. “As you sensed he would be here doing this, I sensed you would come.”
“I don’t trust him,” Neeley said. “Do you?”
Sin Fen nodded. “I do.”
The Valkyrie lifted something out of the back of Foreman’s skull.
“The tumor,” Sin Fen said. “He’ll have a few more years.”
“Lucky us,” Neeley muttered. “He plays games within games.”
“And you don’t?” Sin Fen said. “The Shadow is a formidable opponent, as the Time Patrol has been finding out for the past twenty-four hours. Let us hope all return safely from their missions.”
That distracted Neeley, and she knew that was deliberate on Sin Fen’s part. Was Roland all right? Would he be back? Scout? Moms? The rest of the team?
“And Dane?” Neeley asked, not willing to go quietly into the night of subterfuge and intrigue. “Is he from our timeline?”
“No,” Sin Fen said. “He isn’t. He’s from another timeline. One where he fought the Shadow and lost. He’s a refugee. And he understands what’s at stake better than anyone from our timeline.” Sin Fen reached out and put her hand on Neeley’s shoulder. “Come with me. We’ll go meet the team returning.”
THE RETURN
Roland was sliding through the tunnel of time, forward. To his own time. There was something off to one side. Images appeared, like an old movie flickering on a black-and-white television.
Roland didn’t quite understand or comprehend the changes to his history he was seeing in that other possibility if he had failed in his mission: a Reformation starting in the year 1015 AD instead of 1517. England becoming the religious center of Europe. A kingdom rising, one that sent crusaders across the world. The Catholic Church crushed, and a new warrior-religion taking its place.
Flames. Bodies. A worldwide Inquisition.
And then nothing.
Scout was sliding through the tunnel of time, forward. It was a very strange sensation, to be pulled through time with no control. And then she could see things. The tunnel she was in, things flickering on the walls: people rushing an embassy rooftop, desperate to get on board. Blindfolded hostages. Ronald Reagan. The Berlin Wall coming down and so much more. But then Scout realized she could see out of her own timeline. And there were other possible time tunnels flickering out there.
In one she saw a single massive computer housed in a large cavern, lines leading out from it around the entire world, every other machine wired into it. But then there were missiles being launched, nuclear explosions, humans desperately trying to break their machines free from the single point, the image flickering and then disappearing as she got closer and closer to her own time.
There was a light ahead of her and she knew her present awaited her.
And hopefully a good meal.
But she wasn’t the same person she’d been twenty-four hours ago.
She wasn’t sure that was a good thing.
Mac began to slide through the tunnel of time, forward, a long journey from 1618, through the decades and centuries. He could see other tunnels all around. Possibilities. Some from even before the time he left, others popping into existence as he moved forward.
But the closest and most immediate was most likely the one that could have been, had Raleigh escaped the axe and rode off with Beeston to fulfill a different destiny.
And Mac panicked because what he was seeing was a timeline where there was no Thirty Years’ War. Where Germany wasn’t devastated and splintered by religious strife and millions weren’t killed.
Surely that was good?
But that tunnel grew darker and redder as he moved forward and then he saw something chilling: zeppelins with swastikas emblazoned on their sides at high altitude, floating over American cities. A mushroom cloud and Washington, DC, wasn’t there anymore. And then that timeline pulsed into solid red and snapped out of existence.
And Mac was back in his own time.
Which still existed.
Moms slid through the tunnel of time, forward. To her own time. She was aware that there was another hazy, flickering tunnel nearby. A possibility, she realized, branching out from 1972 if none had survived that crash and the ordeal in the mountains.
As Moms was pulled back to her time, she couldn’t see specifics of that possible timeline. She realized it wasn’t about any particular event happening or not happening that was different about that timeline; it was that the spirit was lacking. The desire to live. Somehow, rippling out of the tiny spark of hope and resilience sparked by the survivors of that single flight, something essentially human was kept alive, and without it, that other tunnel turned darker and darker and farther away.
And then it simply faded out of existence. It was a timeline that would have required many other things to happen besides no survivors from this incident, but it was a possibility.
It was a possible timeline that proved without hope, there is no future.
Eagle was sliding through the tunnel of time, forward. To his own time. There were several tunnels paralleling his, possibilities branching out from 1980 and a second rescue mission launched. One disappeared from view so quickly he didn’t even get a chance to make anything out. That left two.
In another, Eagle caught a glimpse of President Carter greeting the hostages at Andrews Air Force Base, a ticker tape parade.
And then Carter winning the election on the 4th of November. Defeating Reagan. And that tunnel grew bright for a short period of time, and then suddenly ceased into absolute blackness, with no clue as to what had caused it to end.
The remaining tunnel showed a smoldering C-130 in the soccer stadium. Hundreds of dead Iranians. American hostages kneeling, being shot in the back of the head. The tunnel was moving away, heading in a different direction. Eagle tried to follow, but it was all too hazy, and soon it was just a thread in the distance.
One of so many possible threads in time.
Ivar returned to light with someone pounding on his chest. He looked up at Doc and tried to speak, but instead, vomited seawater.
“There’s a story here,” he heard Moms say.
“Nice shoes,” Roland said.
But all Ivar could do was reach up and grab Doc, pulling him down, wrapping his wet arms around Doc’s skinny body, just needing to feel a human, to feel life.
“Six for six,” Dane said. “Excellent.”
The Nightstalkers were seated around the table in their team room. Some the worse for wear. Scout sported a bandage on her cheek. Roland was breathing shallowly, nursing a pair of broken ribs, but he barely noticed because Neeley was sitting next to him and all he could do was stare at her like a puppy, a ferocious attack-dog puppy, in love. Moms had a tinge of frostbite here and there. Ivar was still shivering, a blanket over his shoulder, as much from his near death as from his plunge into Long Island Sound in late October.
Scout seemed strangely distant, eyes a bit unfocused.
Mac’s head was down, deep in reflection.
It was Eagle who was the most composed. He’d checked each of them as they came back, making sure they were attended to. Getting the cinder block and concrete off Ivar’s feet and administering treatment for his lacerations. Making sure Scout’s cut was tended to as well. Ensuring hot coffee and food was supplied. Getting them boring but clean gray jumpsuits into which they could change from their era garments.
Sin Fen was standing next to Dane. She was looking over the group, peering at each as if she saw into their recent experience and what it meant. Each had given a brief after-action report to Dane and Sin Fen. And now they were together once more as a team.
Sin Fen turned to Dane. “It was different than we anticipated.”
Dane didn’t agree. “We anticipate
d it would be different.”
“Cut the crap,” Eagle said. “This isn’t over, is it?”
“No,” Dane said. “The Shadow will try again.”
“So what did we learn?” Eagle asked. He nodded at Sin Fen. “Tell us.”
Sin Fen spread her hands. “I’ve listened to your brief summaries of your day in the past. Your October 29th. And I can see”—she paused—“the effect. On each one of you and on the timeline.”
She pointed at Mac. “Your mission was compromised years, decades, before you even went, by the prophecy the Shadow gave to Raleigh. A brilliant plan. But you were more brilliant in figuring out how to stop it from culminating. But we need to be aware that the seeds of a ripple can be planted many years before it comes to fruition on a specific day of the six cascade days.”
Next she focused on Roland. “It was brutal, what you went through.”
Neeley squeezed Roland’s hand and he flushed bright red.
“There is a truth you must all know that bears on what Roland experienced,” Sin Fen said. “You met Tam Nok, who is sister to me, although she lived long before me. She is one with the Sight. A descendant of the line of the survivors of Atlantis. Of the Defenders of Atlantis.”
That got everyone’s attention.
“But there are others from this line of survivors. Ragnarok had some Atlantean blood in him. As did the nun. If they had come together and produced a child, well, Roland, the vision Tam Nok gave you showed the catastrophe that would be.”
“Is that why the nun had to die?” Roland asked.
“Whether she had to die or not,” Sin Fen said, “is not for us to ponder. She died. That cascade event was stopped.”
Roland slumped back in his chair and Neeley put her arm around his shoulder.
“Moms. In a way, your mission had the least concrete possibilities for a ripple or cascade event. None of the survivors of that crash have directly changed history. But you were most correct in understanding that emotion, particularly hope, is very, very powerful. When Atlantis fell, it was the mental and emotional power of those last Defenders and the warriors with them who managed to stop the Shadow from complete victory. They all died, but they kept the timeline alive.”
Moms nodded, but all she could think about was Pablo, life fading from him, just before she was pulled back. She had his dog tags on her hands, fingers rubbing against the metal. She would remember his name.
“Eagle,” Sin Fen said, “what you had to do went against everything you’ve been trained for. As a pilot, it was anathema for you to crash that plane. But you never questioned it. That means you are now the team sergeant of the Nightstalkers. Nada is gone. You are taking his place.”
Everyone turned to look at Eagle, shaken out of their own situation by that.
Eagle shook his head. “No one can replace Nada. He was—”
“The glue that held the team together,” Sin Fen said. “The team still needs that. And you are it.” Sin Fen moved on, no more discussion on that subject. “Ivar. You came the closest to not making it back.”
“You think?” Ivar said.
“But your mission is also an example of how the Shadow can appear to be going for one objective, Black Tuesday, and have something else entirely as the target: the Kennedys. We must all keep this in mind.”
Dane spoke up. “It’s like we said in the mission briefing. Don’t get focused on one thing. The Shadow can, and will, attack in unexpected ways.”
“What about the money?” Ivar asked. “I don’t understand that.”
Sin Fen and Dane exchanged a glance. Dane spoke. “Don’t worry about it.”
Which caused the members of the team to all exchange a look. They’d been in this situation before. Secrets within secrets.
“And the most unexpected,” Sin Fen said, turning to Scout. “The Internet being initiated was not the objective of the Shadow for your mission.”
“I was the objective,” Scout said in a low voice. She was looking down, her fingers running along the edge of a leather belt she held in her hands.
“Yes,” Sin Fen confirmed. “You were. The Shadow went to a great amount of trouble to come after you.”
“And failed,” Dane said.
“Why me?” Scout asked, looking up.
“Because you are the future,” Sin Fen said. “You have the Sight, but there is something more to you. Something I’ve never sensed before.”
“Hope,” Moms said. “We knew you were special when we first met you in North Carolina.”
“Yeah,” Roland said. “Nada saw it right away. I thought he was nuts, but he wanted you on the team.”
Scout’s eyes grew moist. “But Nada—”
“Did the right thing,” Moms said. “It’s all as he would have wanted. Everything is just right.”
“For the moment,” Dane cautioned. “There are always more days.”
Photo © 2004 Bob Mayer
Bob Mayer is a New York Times bestselling author, graduate of West Point, former Green Beret (including commanding an A-Team), and the feeder of two yellow labs, most famously Cool Gus. He’s had over sixty books published, including three #1 bestselling series: Area 51, Atlantis, and the Green Berets. Born in the Bronx and having traveled the world (usually not the tourist spots), he now lives peacefully with his wife and his labs at Write on the River, Tennessee.
For more on the following, I recommend these books:
The six-book Atlantis series: Tells the story of another Earth timeline that faced the Shadow and fought a battle against it covering centuries. We meet Tam Nok, Sin Fen, Foreman, Dane, Amelia Earhart, the Ones Before, Corpse-Loddin, and the Space Between.
The books cover a battle in the present and great battles in the past, such as Little Big Horn, Isandlwana, the 300 Spartans at Thermopylae, Gladiators in the shadow of Mount Vesuvius, and more.
The Nightstalkers series: The Fun in North Carolina. The Fun in the Desert. And a history of the Nightstalkers and how they dealt with the Rifts, a president who cannot tell a lie, and more! Where the Nightstalkers first encounter Scout in a gated community in North Carolina.
Shit Doesn’t Just Happen: The Gift of Failure. This is a nonfiction series based on the Rule of Seven and how it applies to various catastrophes in history, such as Titanic, Little Big Horn, Air France Flight 447, The Last Czar, and many more. These books are also broken down into Kindle Shorts—quick reads, each focused on a single event titled: Anatomy of Catastrophe. One of those covered is the crash of Uruguayan Flight 571: Alive! Perseverance Triumphs over Tragedy.
And, of course, if you’re interested in how Hannah and Neeley came together, The Cellar series consists of Bodyguard of Lies and Lost Girls.
FOR MORE TIME PATROL STORIES AND INFORMATION ABOUT THE CHARACTERS, THE POSSIBILITY PALACE AND MORE, GO TO
www.coolgus.com/bobmayertimepatrol.com
Nightstalkers Series
Nightstalkers
Nightstalkers: The Book of Truths
Nightstalkers: The Rift
Nightstalkers: Time Patrol
The Area 51 Series
Area 51
Area 51: The Reply
Area 51: The Mission
Area 51: The Sphinx
Area 51: The Grail
Area 51: Excalibur
Area 51: The Truth
Area 51: Nosferatu
Area 51: Legend
The Green Beret Series
Eyes of the Hammer
Dragon Sim-13
Cut Out
Synbat
Eternity Base
Z: The Final Countdown
Chasing the Ghost
Chasing the Lost
The Shadow Warrior Series
The Gate
The Line
Omega Missile
Omega Sanction
Section Eight
Atlantis Series
Atlantis
Atlantis: Bermuda Triangle
Atlantis: Devil’s Sea
Atlantis: Gate
Assault on Atlantis
Battle for Atlantis
Psychic Warrior Series
Psychic Warrior
Psychic Warrior: Project Aura
The Cellar Series
Bodyguard of Lies
Lost Girls
The Presidential Series
The Jefferson Allegiance
The Kennedy Endeavor
Stand-Alone Titles
The Rock
Duty, Honor, Country: A Novel of West Point and The Civil War
I, Judas: The 5th Gospel
Books on Writing/Publishing
The Novel Writer’s Toolkit
Write It Forward: From Writer to Successful Author
How We Made Our First Million on Kindle: The Shelfless Book
Writer’s Conference Guide: Getting The Most of Your Time and Money
102 Solutions to Common Writing Mistakes