The Harvester

by Sean A. Murtaugh

  He exits the drone command center and leaves us to ponder who it will be.

  “I don’t want to do it,” Kelly Marie says.

  “Neither do I. I’m meant to be on the Hunt,” Dorian states.

  “We’re all meant to not be stuck in front of a screen. We’re not those types of Harvesters,” I reply.

  “So who do we bring in who we can trust?” Kelly Marie asks me.

  I think for a moment. “I got it. Djinn.”

  They smile and nod at the same time.

  “Great idea, Harv. Djinn would jump at the chance to play with all this high-tech military equipment,” Dorian replies.

  “I’ll call him now. You two go tell the general that we made up our minds,” I instruct them.

  They hurriedly exit as I place a call to Djinn.

  “Hey, Djinn. I have an amazing opportunity for you.”

  Several hours later and the three of us have a bit of downtime at a sports bar. The TV hanging near us plays the live presidential debate, and Michael Winters is doing a bang up job of discrediting the president and making valid points that there must be a change.

  “Do you think this Winters guy has a chance to win the presidency?” Dorian asks.

  “If the president doesn’t retaliate with something amazing, well, he’s going to lose to this mystery republican,” I state.

  “This guy just came out of nowhere. He has flown so low off the radar, and yet he’s gaining more support. How can that be?” Kelly Marie inquires.

  “It’s simple. It’s called the sympathy vote for Jonathan Jacobs being killed,” I answer her question.

  “Why are we here, honey. I mean, Harvey?” Kelly Marie asks.

  She just let the cat out of the bag, and I know it to be true due to Dorian giving us a curious scowl and smirk.

  “Honey?” he asks with a knowing tone in his voice.

  “Don’t even go there, Dorian,” I say with a stern tone in my voice.

  “I won’t say anything, guys,” he assures us. “I’ve known for a while and I couldn’t care in the least. We’re a team and I would never rat you out okay,” he states.

  “Thanks, Dorian,” Kelly Marie comments.

  “No problem. I always thought you two would make a great couple,” he adds on.

  “Enough with that talk. Let’s figure out our battle plan. Djinn arrives tomorrow at Andrew’s Air Force base, so we have until then to rest, gather our thoughts and strength, and decide what we’re going to do when Djinn does get a pinpoint on Vega and he will,” I say to them.

  “When it does come to that point, I say we need some more Harvesters and a few of General O’Malley’s Special Forces to combat Vega and his crew,” Dorian remarks.

  “Good point, Dorian,” I tell him.

  A waiter walks over to us. “Would you like to begin with some drinks?” he asks us.

  “I’ll take a soda,” I tell the waiter.

  Dorian stares at me with shock. “Soda? You?”

  “Yeah, soda. I quit drinking,” I inform him. I caringly look into Kelly Marie’s eyes. “For someone special,” I add.

  “Wow. A serious transformation for you. Nice,” he replies. “This truly must be love, huh?”

  “Sodas all around, please,” Kelly Marie interjects.

  “You got it,” the waiter says and walks off. “Looks like I won’t be getting much of a tip,” he adds.

  “We heard that, asshole,” I state loud enough for him to hear.

  He looks back at me with a shocked expression. Dorian and Kelly Marie chuckle. I throw up my hands.

  “Humans, right?” I say, then scoff.

  They laugh even harder. I glance back to the TV and realize the president is being verbally destroyed by presidential candidate Michael Winters. One major way to win an election is by having plenty of funding, and Michael Winters has a bountiful of exactly just that. This election, which will be decided soon, I feel will come down to the wire. I’m not really into politics, but one does wonder where he’s getting all his funding and donations.

  What I do know is that he’s from a very prominent political family. Will that be enough to win him the position of president? Quite possibly. Will he be as effective as a president as our present one? I seriously doubt it. But I must admit, I am curious. Also, to repeat, where’s he getting all the millions in funding and donations? He’s not keeping it a secret. That would be illegal and scandalous.

  But is there a secret donor?

  Michael Winters finishes his debate, and the audience cheers and applauds. Even a few diner patrons and employees applaud as well. This doesn’t look good for the President, but we’ll find out when everyone goes to the polls next week.

  “I really hope this Michael Winters guy doesn’t win,” Dorian says to us.

  “Why do you say that?” Kelly Marie asks him.

  “I don’t know. I just have a bad feeling that he’ll ruin and destroy everything America stands for,” he replies.

  I can’t help but to laugh a bit. “Typical answer coming from a war hero,” I comment.

  They both chuckle at my remark.

  Five days later, the new President, Michael Winters, addresses all his constituents. He grins from ear-to-ear and waves to everyone. He kisses his wife’s cheek and hugs his teenage son and young daughter. He seems as though he has the picture perfect life. I just hope this president stays on board with the Agency like the last one or we’re screwed. Kelly Marie and myself, at her house, watch the engagement on her seventy-two-inch flat screen television in her beautifully decorated living room. She cuddles up to me with a soft, content moan. I love every minute of it.

  Since we are both Harvesters, if we had a child, it would be born as a true blood Dead One with all of our powers. And yes, we have touched on the child topic but only touched on it.

  “So how do you feel about our new president?” she asks me.

  “Well, if you think the way Dorian does, then we should kill him ourselves,” I reply. “Honestly though, I think he’s a good man and will be a great president,” I add on.

  “If you’re going off what he has said during his campaigning, you’d be foolish to believe all his words. Everyone knows all politicians lie,” she remarks.

  I kiss her forehead. “Damn, I love you,” I state.

  She caringly looks up at me. “I love you too, baby,” she retorts.

  “Let’s watch our redbox flick instead of this political crap,” I tell her.

  “I agree. I can’t believe how long red box has been around. It came out so many years ago. Like, in 2006 or so, right?” she inquires.

  “Not sure. All I know is this political stuff is making me go to sleep,” I comment.

  A month later, I’m in Mr. Herald’s office, and he looks extremely worried about something. I have no idea what he’s about to tell me, but I know it can’t be good.

  “I have some real bad news, Harv,” he starts off with.

  “There’s always something. But let me start by saying Djinn at Andrew’s Air Force base has locked down a location on Vega, and we must act quick,” I inform him.

  “You better do it quicker than quick. President Winters held a meeting with all his top people, and well, he has decided to shutdown all funding for the Agency and eventually wants to disband our whole organization and takeaway or rights to Harvest,” he worriedly informs me.

  “What the hell! Why would he think that’s a good idea?” I angrily ask.

  “I have no clue,” he replies. “All I know is that by the end of the month, we’re out of the most important and crucial to this planet’s jobs,” he says with a shaky tone to his voice.

  “Who else knows of this?” I ask him.

  “For now, just you and myself. But I got word that the president will hold a press conference on the topic. I don’t know how the other five Heads are going to take this.”

  “He only has power over the United States, so the other Agencies could still be operational. Right?”
r />   “You’d think so, but he’s going to be meeting with them and try to shut us all down,” he informs me.

  “This is bad. And here I thought we had a smart president again,” I shout.

  And then it dawns on me, and I rise to my feet with an expression of enlightenment on my face. Mr. Herald realizes I must’ve discovered something.

  “What is it, Harv?” he asks me. “I know that look.”

  “There must be an Underworlder amongst the president’s top people who planted the seed of thought in his brain to eliminate the Agency. This president is a good man, husband, and father. We need to convince him he’s making a massive, human-ending mistake before it’s too late.”

  “Your revelation is sound, but the president has said he won’t be meeting with anyone from the Agency until after we are all disbanded,” he remarks.

  “This keeps getting worse and worse. Well, if he’s going to do this in twenty-three days, we need to end Vega before then to finally defeat the Underworld,” I tell him.

  He jumps out of his seat with excitement. “That’s exactly what you must do, Harv, exactly! Whatever you need. Just please get it done.”

  It definitely is a dire situation, especially when Mr. Herald says “please.” I’ve never heard him say please since I’ve known him.

  Two days later, and Dorian, Kelly Marie, and five personally picked by me Harvesters, the best of the best, sit in a van outside a swanky hotel in Casablanca, Morocco.

  Now when most people hear the city Casablanca they think of the classic Humphrey Bogart film. However, this is nothing like the city portrayed in that film. Plenty has changed since World War II, and not for the better.

  The five Harvesters I selected are Michael Takahashi, Pierre Croix, representing Europe, Madu Kawai, representing Africa, James Hall, representing Australia, and Rico Ruiz, representing Mexico, Central America, and South America.

  They are the number one Harvesters in their respective countries of coverage.

  I keep in contact with Djinn at Andrew’s Air Force base with a high-tech telecommunications device in my ear. All of our weapons are hidden on our bodies by our clothing, and we each carry a briefcase with weapons and ammo inside. I know Vega must know what’s going to happen to the Agency at the end of the month. It’s highly unlikely that he’s not the one responsible. Because he knows he has us by the balls he has made a classic blunder and has let his guard down to the point of us knowing exactly where he is. What room he’s in even.

  “Everyone knows the plan and backup plans and what is at stake here,” I tell my crew. “The chief of the Moroccan police and general of their military are on our side, so we don’t have to worry about them interfering,” I add on.

  “Keep in mind that Vega has five bodyguards of some sort with him and most likely a few are Section 520 creatures. All of us have had to deal with 520s and know they are not ones to be trifled with,” Kelly Marie remarks.

  Kelly Marie, since I first met her many years ago, has blossomed as a leader. She could definitely, right now, run her own crew of Harvesters without a shadow of a doubt.

  Only I know it, but I’m going to ask her to marry me.

  However, I’m only going to do it once the Underworld has been toppled. My job comes first and being married prior to destroying the Underworld would only distract me. I’d be constantly worried about her on the Hunt and Harvests, and I wouldn’t be able to perform at my expected level. And I can’t allow that in the least. And I also know that Kelly Marie wouldn’t allow it either. We think way too much alike.

  “Rock and roll?” I ask my crew.

  They simultaneously shout, “Rock and roll.”

  “That’s what I like to hear from my crew,” I tell them.

  “This may be the last time we work together as Harvesters, and I just want to say it has been an honor to work with all of you at one time or another and now,” I add on.

  I slide open the van’s side door and we pile out one by one. We head for the entrance to the hotel in a casual non-formation manner in order to not draw any unnecessary attention to ourselves.

  “Any mentionable Vega movement, Djinn?” I ask him.

  Through our earpieces we can hear him.

  “No. Not yet, Harv. He’s still in the penthouse suite with a few of his people,” he relays back to me.

  “Keep us posted,” I reply.

  “Will do,” he remarks.

  We enter the elegant hotel and casually stroll beyond the elevators and stop at the staircase door.

  “This is it, guys,” I tell ’em.

  I open the door and we enter the stairwell without being spotted by anyone of importance. Now we have forty flights of stairs to ascend. Any normal person would be exhausted when they reached the top, but we’re not normal.

  We’re Harvesters, and we have an incredibly high level of endurance and stamina.

  About twenty minutes later, we only have one more flight of stairs to ascend. We can hear an Underworlder talking on his cellular phone. We know it’s an Underworlder because he’s speaking to Vega and uses his name a few times. I hand signal to my crew exactly what we’re going to do. They nod in agreement. We each pop one of Djinn’s protection pills. I stealthily, yet slowly, make my way up the stairs to a point where I can see him, but he can’t see me. I pull out a tranquilizing dart gun and aim at his leg.

  I have to wait until he’s off the phone in order to keep our presence a secret. I grow anxious and annoyed that he’s still on the phone.

  The phone call finally comes to an end, and I know I must be quick to act before he opens the stairwell door. I shoot the powerful tranquilizer at his thigh area and connect. He’ll fall unconscious in just a few seconds.

  “What the—” he says and then drops to the floor unconscious.

  Pierre, Madu, and Rico run up to him and drag him down a few flights of stairs.

  “Send him to the After,” I instruct them.

  I hear a slicing of a sword sound and just like that my whole crew is with me at the last stairwell door.

  There’s a moment of silence as we look at each other with an expression that can only be read as that the future of the Agency depends on us and this mission. There’s a lot of pressure on every one of us. The world needs our services and if we don’t take out Vega on this Harvest then the world will reap the consequences.

  I grab the door handle and look back at my crew.

  “This is it,” I comment to them.

  I slowly and quietly open the door just a bit and peer through the slightly ajar door. I see the tall decorated double doors to the penthouse and the fact that nobody is guarding them. Also, I scan the whole area and realize there’s no security cameras of any sort. This is great for our plight. I hand signal to my crew what I see.

  We pile out of the stairwell, but only James and I step to the penthouse doors. He pulls out what’s called a snake cam. It’s a long, stiff wire with a miniscule camera at the end which will feed back what it sees to Madu, who holds a handheld screen connected wirelessly to the snake cam.

  James quietly and gingerly slides the snake cam under the doors to get a visual. I glance back at Madu and he hand signals to me what he sees, who he sees, and the layout of the penthouse. I nod in acknowledgement. Now everyone knows there are four Underworlders and Vega on the couch, no Section 520 Creatures, and the layout of the penthouse. I hand signal to them to further let them know to handle the four in order for me to focus all my efforts on Vega. They nod at me again.

  We have them outnumbered by just over double. The odds are in our favor, but like I’ve said before, Vega has always been one or two steps ahead of us. If he was a chess player, he would defeat Bobby Fischer, one of the greatest chess players of all time, every time. And I’ve grown absolutely sick of it. Now is the Agency’s time. Now is my time. The four Underworlders in the penthouse aren’t really our concern, but we must eliminate them. It’s Vega that’s crucial to send to the After before President Winters ends
the Agency for good and the Underworld takes control of the world. The president has no idea that what he’s going to do at the end of this month has the harshest repercussions and what will come of it. The prior president knew what humanity was up against when it came to the Underworld.

  Obviously, President Winters does not, or is just clueless, or his judgment is being clouded by something.

  It’s time to breach the penthouse doors and handle the business at hand. Our attack needs to be spot on, perfect, in order to accomplish our overall goal. I have the perfect crew to handle this ultimate task, but I still have my doubts, reservations. This is Vega we’re talking about, right? Maybe he knows what we’re up to, and he’s leading us into a false sense of security in order to finally eliminate his number one foe, me. I’m definitely willing to take that risk at no cost. I tap Kelly Marie.

  “I want you to guard the door,” I whisper to her.

  From her facial expression I know, she doesn’t approve.

  “But I . . .”

  “I order you to guard the door. I need you to do that for me, please,” I retort.

  I know that by me saying “please” to her, she knows it’s important to me for her to do so. But with our new relationship, I also know she’s not stupid and knows I’m telling her to do it so she doesn’t come across any sort of injury or worse, the After. She knows it’ll tear me apart to lose another loved one again. I have expressed my feelings about my loss of my daughter Anastasia and my wife only to one person, Kelly Marie, and she knows I don’t want to lose another. I haven’t felt true love in quite a while.

  And we are truly in love. So when I tell her to guard the penthouse’s doors she knows why and now has no problem doing so. She nods at me and I slightly smile at her.

  I nod at my crew and Takahashi and Madu pull out breaching explosives and stick one each to each door. As a group, we back away to a safe distance. Takahashi and Madu each press a button on their explosive device and boom!