Migration: Beginnings (Migration Series Book 1)

by Walter Hopgood

  Rhys is thrown from the adrenalin rush, and it takes a second to recognize the familiar face. “Captain Franks?” he asks, pulling his hands from his back, then noticing Franks pocketing a large knife. Now with his hands free, he turns all his attention to Jason, where he tries to assess his husband’s injuries. Turning his husband, he notices a large bloodstain on his shirt and his voice is suddenly small, with his mouth dry as he asks, “Jason?”

  “Rhys?” Jason quietly replies as Rhys checks him thoroughly from head to toe, but other than the blood on his shirt, he only finds a rip in Jason’s jeans, where he’d fallen to the rough concrete floor. That, and a nasty red lump forming on Jason’s forehead.

  He steels himself and turns his attention to the bloodstain, but after pushing up the thin cotton material of Jason’s shirt, quickly realizes the blood is not coming from Jason. Rather, it’s coming from a gaping chest wound that Nichols is sporting, the blood smearing on Jason where he’d fallen on their kidnapper.

  “It’s okay—I’m okay,” Jason says as Franks cuts his zip tie. Suddenly, the two men are embracing. “It’s okay—I’m okay,” Jason repeats, as if it would make everything right.

  Rhys holds his husband as close as he can, each man choking through the tears at the flood of emotions that overwhelm them. They stay that way for a few seconds, not caring about the body bleeding out next to them. They finally, reluctantly, let go of each other, but only when Franks comes to them. She gets to her knees, putting a hand on each man’s shoulder, and hands Jason the necklace when Jason turns to her.

  “Let’s get you two out of here,” Franks says as she stands, checking the leather strap on her weapon. She reaches out, taking Jason’s hand in hers and pulls him up, then does the same for Rhys. With a nod to the two MPs she brought with her, she says, “Let’s get these boys to the Jeep and secure the scene until the rest of the team gets here.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” one of the MPs quickly replies.

  “C’mon, fellas,” Franks says. She urges Rhys and Jason to follow. Once they are out into the warm Sacramento afternoon, with the two airmen bringing up the rear, Rhys finally breathes a sigh of relief, as a small sense of security comes back to him, and fights the urge to look back at into the warehouse. He can’t help but relive the nightmare of what just happened, and how very different it could have turned out.

  As they approach the waiting Jeep, Rhys comes to his senses, only letting go of Jason’s hand so he can pull Franks into a hug.

  “Thank you,” he says as he squeezes Franks tightly. He figures it’s probably not appropriate, but he doesn’t care. After a second, he feels Jason on the other side, adding himself to the embrace, Jason’s quiet thanks added to the moment.

  “How did you find us?” Rhys asks as they finally release the Captain.

  “Hell, I don’t care how they found us—just that they did,” Jason counters as he breaks the embrace. “Thank you for saving our lives. Again.”

  Franks nods, giving Rhys and Jason a sardonic smile. “All in a day’s work, boys,” she says. “All in a day’s work.”

  They watch as a Humvee pulls onto the tarmac, screaming around a corner until Franks waves them down, as if to say they were in the clear.

  “It’s a good thing you still had that SIM card in your phone, Doctor Tambor,” Franks says. “Though we were pretty sure he’d bring you back here, anyway.”

  “Who was that, anyway?” Rhys asks, not wanting to even turn back and acknowledge the dead man in the building behind them. Somehow, his defense mechanism told him that if he didn’t acknowledge it, maybe it would all go away.

  The larger Humvee pulls up at that moment, with armed soldiers streaming out even before the vehicle comes to a complete stop. They come to stand at attention next to the captain, awaiting orders.

  Before addressing the soldiers, Franks continues with Rhys and Jason, “Not sure yet, but we’ll figure it out.” An Air Force team comes to attention. “Body’s in there,” she says to the senior officer, hiking a thumb over her shoulder. “Secure the body, get the site cleaned up, and head back to base. I’m taking these two to get checked out at the emergency room before we head back. Report back to me when your work is completed.”

  “Ma’am, yes ma’am!” the troops respond in unison and are dismissed with a salute. They quickly make their way into the building as Franks turns her attention back to Rhys and Jason.

  “So, you two are okay? Physically?” Franks asks as she looks over Jason, her eyes seemingly cataloguing Jason’s, then Rhys’ injuries. When Rhys and Jason both nod, she adds, “I know you may think that it’s probably overkill, but I’d still like to get you checked out by a doc. Okay?”

  Rhys turns to Jason, a numb expression on his face. “Yeah, okay,” he agrees as he pulls Jason’s hand into his own.

  “Good,” Jason agrees. He squeezes Rhys’ hand. “And then can we go home?”

  “I think that can be arranged,” Franks says as she opens the door, letting Rhys and Jason get into the back of the Jeep and directing the two MPs who came with her to leave with the second team. Franks climbs in and nods to the boys as Rhys once again becomes aware of his surroundings—the demanding heat of the late afternoon, the feel of ripped denim and warm blood from his own injured leg as his fingers glance over the exposed skin, the buzzing of an airplane taking off sounding from the nearby runway and a faraway car horn from the other direction.

  Franks makes a quiet phone call, and while her voice is subdued so much that Rhys isn’t able to listen in, he assumes that it’s General Landingham on the other end of the line based on the “Yes, sir,” that he finally makes out. After she hangs up, she turns to Rhys and Jason and asks, “All buckled up, gentlemen?”

  “Yes ma’am,” Jason calls as he buckles up, and leans over, putting his head on Rhys’ shoulder, snaking his fingers with Rhys’ until they are interlocked and resting on the seat between them.

  “Okay, then,” Franks says as she puts the Jeep into gear. She backs up in an effort to get around the Humvee, and as she does, the senior officer who arrived with the second team comes outside. There’s a curious look on his face as he waves his arms, trying to flag them down.

  “Captain Franks,” the officer says, garnering everyone’s attention.

  “Yes, Sergeant Hayes?” Franks asks, not hiding the fact that she’s annoyed at the interruption. Rhys understands; not only have he and Jason been subjected to the wiles of a madman, but Franks has also had to kill their attacker. Even for a trained military person not in combat, this would still be a traumatic event.

  “Ma’am, it’s the warehouse,” Hayes says and glances at his feet uneasily. He finally spits out, “There’s no body.”

  Clicking off the engine and pulling the parking break, Franks asks, “What the hell do you mean, there is no body?”

  “Oh shit,” Jason mutters, instantly pulling Rhys close as his breath hitches.

  Nervous eyes jitter from Jason to Rhys, and once again land on Franks. The sergeant shakes his head uneasily, then says, “There’s a pool of blood where the assailant was apparently taken down, and a trail leading outside. But there is absolutely no body.”

  The blood drains from Rhys’ face, and he’s overcome with a cold sweat at the thought of that madman still being on the loose. He can’t help but glance around, with dark thoughts invading his mind. “Captain Franks?” he quietly starts, pulling Jason closer to him.

  “I’m getting these civilians out of here,” Franks says, starting the vehicle. “Shut down the airport and seal off every road for a five-mile stretch. And, for god’s sake, find out where that fucking airplane that left thirty seconds ago was headed!” She punctuates her sentence with a nod as she turns over the engine. Once it’s started, she drops the emergency brake, flooring the Jeep to get out of the vicinity as quickly as possible.

  Franks runs a few red lights in an effort to put some distance between them and the warehouse, just in case the madman is still on the ground
. Jason stares quietly out the side window and Rhys spots multiple police cars, their emergency lights flashing red and blue, hoping they will be assisting in the response to the situation.

  It takes twenty minutes of speeding to reach a hospital, which Rhys slowly recognizes from their very first trip to the area. Franks parks the Jeep just off the ambulance bay and climbs out, pulling the gun from her shoulder holster as she looks around, making sure the area is clear. Satisfied, she opens the back door of the vehicle.

  “Come on, guys,” she urges, so Rhys and Jason climb out of the back seat, standing in the waning sunlight.

  Franks causes a bit of a commotion when she walks in with her gun at her side, but is quickly cleared by a waiting hospital administrator once proper credentials are flashed, and they are apprised of the situation. She barks orders like she runs the place, making sure there are guards posted at the doorway to the emergency room, as well as two guards in the secluded part of the department she decides to take over, saying it’s for national security’s sake. While Rhys wouldn’t consider himself or Jason to be critical for national security, he doesn’t question the captain.

  Going back over the events of the afternoon in his head, Rhys thinks this all may be overkill, even with the morose thoughts that dominate his brain. If his hunch is right, he figures that Nichols had slipped out and taken off in the jet that brought them to Sacramento, now bound for who knows where. That is if he survived at all; it could have been someone from his employ—the pilot, maybe—who cleaned up the scene and picked up the body before the military detail arrived. It’s then that Rhys finally remembers to tell Franks about the private jet that had flown them to Sacramento, with Jason adding in the few things he could remember about their captor, the pilot, and the airplane.

  It only takes an hour to be seen and checked over thoroughly, with follow-up mental health appointments scheduled for when they get back to Portland at a related facility. Once they are discharged, with prescriptions in hand, Franks gets them back to the Jeep. Her eyes scan the area the entire way to the vehicle. Once it’s checked, they climb in and Franks seats herself back into the driver’s seat once her charges are secured.

  “Well that’s enough excitement for one day,” Franks says, shaking her head as she tries to lighten the mood. “How about I put you guys up overnight, and send you home in the morning?”

  Rhys is about to second the suggestion, but Jason responds before he is able.

  “No,” Jason calmly states, surprising both Rhys and Franks.

  “No?” Franks asks, her dark eyes cut to slits as she stares back at Jason through the rear view mirror.

  “No?” Rhys asks, turning to his husband. “What in the hell do you mean, no?”

  Jason breathes in deep through his nose and exhales through his mouth. Rhys recognizes the act as both calming, as well as a bit defensive. “Listen,” he says as he turns to his husband. “I know this whole thing has been one giant clusterfuck,” Rhys rolling his eyes at what he considers the understatement of the year. “But I also know that people have literally died trying to keep us from finding out whatever this thing does. You can say I’m crazy…” he starts.

  “Which I will happily agree to, Jason,” Rhys replies, Franks turning in her seat so she can watch both men. “I love you, but you’re crazy, and we should…”

  “No,” Jason interrupts, reaching out to put a hand on Rhys’ uninjured knee. “At this point, I want to know just what in the hell we’re getting into,” Jason finishes. When neither Rhys nor Franks stop giving him the once-over, he says, “Seriously. Just think about it.”

  “I am thinking about it, and I think it’s crazy,” Rhys responds at just how fubar the day had been since being kidnapped in Portland. “Sweetheart, we were almost killed tonight,” he says, enunciating each word, letting the weight of each word sink in fully.

  Jason gives Rhys a slow blink, and when he finally speaks, his voice is quiet. “That’s why this is so important,” Jason counters. He sets his jaw, tensing the muscles; it was something Rhys has rarely seen in their years together. Rhys was the logical one, while Jason was more impulsive—and thus more prone to making deals to keep the peace. This was definitely not one of those times, Jason’s serious, squared jaw of tensed muscles speaking volumes.

  Rhys thinks long and hard about the request. “You sure about this, Jase?” Rhys asks.

  Jason takes a second, glancing first at Rhys, then to Franks, and back again to Rhys. “Absolutely,” Jason confidently states.

  Rhys considers it, reading the combination of fear and ire, with a massive overtone of defiance, coming off of his husband, knowing Jason’s mind is set.

  “Well, okay then,” Rhys says. He turns his attention to Franks. “Can you please take us to wherever the beam is being stored, Captain Franks?”

  Franks slowly nods her head, as if she were actively considering it. She thumps her hand against the hard leather of the back of his seat and says, “Okay, deal. But just for a few minutes— nothing more.”

  “One quick stop, though,” Jason says as the Jeep gets underway. And Rhys can tell Jason is relieved, since his tone is much more casual.

  Franks brings the vehicle to a halt, turning in her seat. “Name it,” she says.

  “Can you please stop at some fast food joint along the way? Almost getting killed apparently makes me hungry,” Jason says with a sardonic look on his face.

  Suddenly, something with enough trans-fats to fell a mule sounds delicious. “The greasier, the better,” Rhys chimes in with a smile.

  Gunning the engine again, Franks grins and says, “You got it, fellas,” and pulls out of the hospital parking lot, and into traffic, picking up the phone to make a quiet call to General Landingham.

  Chapter 32

  Rhys and Jason fork over a few bucks for their greasy treats, and are happily munching on their snacks when they drive onto a military base. After they are through the checkpoint and deep into the base, Rhys takes a sip of bottled water and watches as Jason raises his milkshake up to his mouth; his husband totally misses the straw, his head turning as they near a building.

  “It’s in there, isn’t it?” Jason asks, leaning forward to make sure Franks can hear him.

  “Yes sir, it is,” Franks replies. She brings the Jeep to a stop in a parking space, and Jason is out almost immediately, with Franks and Rhys quick on his heels. “Mind telling me how you knew that?” Franks asks.

  Shrugging, Jason manages to respond, “I don’t know...I can just tell.” He absently pulls at the replica pendant at his neck, and adds, “I know this is fake, but I feel like I’m supposed to be in there,” and then points to the building. “Like something’s pulling me.”

  Once the Jeep is parked, the trio strides to the doorway, Jason’s pace making the others quicken their steps to match. Franks flashes her badge, and the light on the card reader changes from a solid red to a flashing green. She pulls the door open for the couple, Rhys’ mind overflowing with thoughts of what’s to come as he crosses the threshold, and Franks quickly follows them inside.

  Almost immediately, they are assaulted by the bright overhead fluorescent lights, but as Rhys and Franks stop nearby, Jason continues his journey until he’s standing right in front of the beam, reaching out for it.

  “Gentlemen,” a booming voice calls, startling Rhys. “Welcome back.”

  Rhys turns, spotting General Landingham, who stands before them in a relaxed, calm state accompanied with a Cheshire smirk. He should have known the general would be there, and acknowledges the man with a nod.

  “General,” Rhys says, “it’s good to see you again.” When Jason doesn’t respond to the general, Rhys turns his attention back to his husband. “Don’t get too close, Jase,” he says when he spots Jason standing closer than Rhys thinks he should.

  Turning, Rhys watches as Jason steps forward a bit more and is now mere inches away from the substantial structure, holding out a hand. “This is…” Words seem to fa
il Jason, something Rhys rarely sees in his husband. Jason finally glances back at the others and settles on, “Massive,” and then turns his attention back to the device.

  “Yes, well massive or not,” Landingham counters, “I’m afraid that we are currently at a bit of a loss. The scientists,” he starts, then gestures as if to indicate something on the other side of the room. There are a few tables with equipment scattered around, and Rhys figures this is where the scientists have been working. “The ones who you worked with over in Auburn…Well, they haven’t been able to tell me anything except that the electromagnetic force is now stable throughout all three beams and is holding steady. They can’t tell me what is powering it, or anything we don’t already know, much less get the damn thing to work.”

  Rethinking the events of the day, a fleeting thought crosses his mind—something Nichols had said, as well as the glowering Major Bartlett days before. Rhys goes to the structure, pulling his glasses off and cleaning them as he goes to stand closer, studying the now intact structure. With as close as he is, he can almost feel a hum of electricity, and were his phone not in several dozen pieces on the floor of a warehouse across town, he’s sure it would be practically vibrating in his pocket at the amount of energy he can almost viscerally feel.

  “Is it safe to touch, now that it’s assembled?” Rhys asks, already reaching for the device.

  Landingham nods, saying, “Absolutely. I had my men use gloves and protection when they were assembling it, but Doctor von Schoor was practically crawling all over the damn thing while examining it this morning. It’s perfectly safe.”

  “Good, good,” Rhys says. He steps a little closer, focusing on the main beam—the one found in the Anasazi caves of Utah. He kneels, and runs his fingers across the intricate design, searching for something he remembers touching early on in the project; it was a small, but almost familiar, indentation. He runs his fingers along the cool metal but doesn’t find it. There’s a small ramp sitting against the side of the device that rests on top of the beam itself. Frowning, he pushes it out of the way so he can examine the entirety of the device’s main beam.