Timeless
Blackness devoid of any sights or sounds…endless, timeless. And then the barest hint of something entering; a high-pitched ringing almost beyond the hearing range, but not quite. It built in volume and pitch as the blackness slowly turned to a deep, dark grey, like the early morning hours before sunrise.
And sensation. A tingling of limbs, first of toes and fingers, and then of legs and arms. Slowly, painfully Mel raised his head an inch, then relaxed his neck muscles, again, as he kept his breathing slow and regular.
Where am I? He wondered as he tried to open his eyes but found them frozen shut. As his consciousness returned he realized his head was covered, his breathing only possible through his nose as he inhaled stale air and exhaled even staler breaths.
The last he remembered he’d been in the old cabin of his childhood with Sarrah’s shotgun pointed at an intruder’s chest. He remembered hearing a strange noise of something metallic striking the floor, followed moments later by darkness. Whatever had struck the floor must have resulted in his being knocked unconscious, and if it had that effect on him it likely had affected everyone else. A gas canister…no two. There’d been a second sound.
Mel tried to move, first his arms and then his legs, but whoever had thrown the canisters must have wanted him alive but immobile. He felt the tight pressure of the strands of rope as he strained against them. As he realized the bleakness of his situation—that he’d been captured and tied up— he could feel his heart rate and respiration increase. That won’t do, he thought. Mustn’t let my captors know that I’m awake. He slowed his breathing and felt his heart rate slowly return to normal.
After several minutes he realized that, in this condition, he needed help to get out of this situation. What about the girls? There was a possibility that Kristin and Tabitha had escaped. They might be able to help him if he could just contact them. He wasn’t sure how far he could send out a call for help, but he had to try. It was his only hope. No telling how long he had before his captors realized he was awake.
The security guard who had escorted them to the harem returned a few minutes after Mimi had finally stopped her shaking and the redhead had removed the towel from her mouth. Seeing the girls were now safely out of the showers, she shook her body a couple more times for effect before relaxing all her muscles and pretending to drift off, keeping one eye just barely squinted open.
“Finally,” Zillah said, clearly relieved that the emergency was over. Then she stepped forward towards Mimi again, an anxious look returning.
“Is she still breathing?” she asked the redhead that knelt near Mimi’s head. The redhead placed her face close to Mimi’s and paused a moment before nodding.
“Yes, she’s fine. My younger brother has epilepsy,” she explained. “I think that’s what just happened here. Just give her a few minutes. She should come around soon.”
That’s good to know, Mimi thought as she suppressed a smile. Thanks for the stage direction.
“Will she have another one?” Zillah asked a little less anxiously.
The redhead shrugged. “I don’t know, for sure. My brother often went for weeks or even months without a spell, but he was also on medication for his condition.”
“Great,” Zillah replied. “Just one more headache I have to worry about.”
“We’ll be happy to look after her,” Tina said, stepping forward.
“Yeah,” Kristin added. “She’s a friend of my mother’s, so she’d want us to look after her.”
Zillah looked at the two sisters, relief washing over her face. “Okay, that’ll work.” She pointed to the redhead. “Let Hannah know if you need anything. When she comes to, we’ll find out if she’s on any medication or not. Do you think it’s okay to move her?”
“Sure,” Hannah replied.
Mimi decided that was her cue to wake up. Her eyelashes fluttered as she took a deep breath and looked around, a confused look on her face.
“Where am I?” She asked, thankful for her short acting career while in high school. “Did I have another one?”
“Yes, you did,” Hannah answered as she slowly helped her up to a sitting position. “Have you had many such spells?”
Mimi shook her head. “No, not really. That’s the first one I’ve had in over a year. I’m sure I’ll be okay. I imagine it’s just from all the excitement of the past couple days and not getting enough sleep.”
“Well, I sure hope that’s the case,” Zillah said taking the situation in hand. “These girls have offered to care for you just in case, so you’ll bed with them. Now that all the excitement is over, where were we? Oh yes, time for our new arrivals to…” She stopped as she noticed Kristin and Tabitha already dressed in clean clothes and their hair still damp. “Oh, you’re already clean.”
“I figured you had enough on your hands already,” Tina replied. “We’ve taken care of everything, and we’ll do the same with our newest addition.” She nodded towards Mimi.
“Good,” Zillah replied. “I’ll have someone bring you four more pallets for your room before bedtime tonight.”
“Four?” Tina asked.
“Yes, I was informed a short time ago that one of my husband’s men is bringing in one more of your sisters. Just what I don’t need, but Hassan has promised me that she’ll be the last one.”
I must have drifted off again, Mel realized, as he regained consciousness for the second time and found himself in the same dire situation. At least as far as he could tell, his captors hadn’t drugged him again, but he doubted he had long before they’d check on him.
He needed to get help now. He relaxed his body and slowed his breathing in an effort to clear his mind. Slowly he tried to open his mind to the presence of anyone else he might be able to detect. He continued in this state for several minutes, but could sense nothing other than his own fearful thoughts that kept creeping in along with one other nagging ache. He needed to pee.
Had the drugs that were still coursing through his bloodstream destroyed his psychic abilities to connect with the rest of the Kindred? What about his other powers? Would they return or was he now reduced to just another weak human being?
No, mustn’t indulge in such thoughts. He was Melaenis, head of the Kindred, a new species destined to replace the old. No more Homo sapien sapiens. It was time for Homo kindred. But only if he could get in touch with the rest of the Kindred. No, he didn’t need to reach them all; only one of them. Tabitha. He’d had a special connection with her from the start.
He relaxed again and opened his mind to the psychic realm; but this time he focused only on Tabitha. He visualized a thread of his consciousness moving out into space, reaching for his sister, sensing her unique psychic connection as he also pictured her in his mind’s eye. Felt her body next to his own, calling to her, gently at first, then with more urgency. He continued this for several minutes, sensing nothing at first but a black void of emptiness. Then slowly, almost imperceptibly, he felt something shift; so subtle at first he was afraid it might just be his imagination, but still he went with it. Allowed his consciousness to drift in the direction he felt he was being guided towards. Was that another thread out on the periphery of his awareness?
He felt like if he could just shake the cobwebs from his mind, he’d be able to focus on the task at hand, but doing so might alert his captors that he was awake. Too risky. He’d continue to take his time. After all, what else was there to do? Time to practice a little patience; a trait that had never been his strong suit.
But his lack of patience wasn’t the real issue. His bladder was stretched to its limit and his needing to pee kept distracting him from the task at hand. Finally, he realized he needed to somehow convey his distressed condition to his jailers, or he’d soon have no choice but to pee himself. He raised his head and groaned loudly which was about the only sound he could managed through the tape over his mouth. When nothing happened, he groaned again, more loudly, and shook himself from side to side.
W
ithin seconds he heard a door open and felt a couple pairs of hands on him, one pair holding his shoulders, the others removing his hood.
“Got to pee,” he tried to say, but all that came out was “Hmmm…hm…hmm,” but he kept up the litany until he felt pressure on one side of his lips and a sudden burning sensation as the tape was ripped from his mouth.
“Owwww! Shit!” he exclaimed and then, before his captors had a chance to clamp his mouth shut again, “Please…gotta pee. Just let me pee.”
“Okay, okay, just calm down,” a voice answered. “No funny business, you hear? There are two guns trained on you, and others outside this room keeping an eye on you. One stupid move and you’re a goner. You understand?”
Mel nodded as he felt the ropes around his body loosen but those around his legs remained firmly tied.
“Untie his hands,” the same voice said, “and bring in that bucket. You need to do anything else?”
That last question was clearly directed at him so Mel shook his head again.
“Take it out and do your business. We’ll catch it in the bucket.”
Mel did as instructed, peeing for close to a minute. As he did so, he could feel his mind clear as the pain turned to pleasure at finally emptying his bladder. But his captors now knew he was awake and would probably put him back under unless he did something to change their mind.
Far easier to leave the kid awake. He’s no threat…not really. We out number him. Mel thought of trying to persuade his captors to let him go, but knew they’d never go for that. Too much of a stretch, especially in his weakened state. But maybe, just maybe he could persuade them to let him stay awake if they felt it was in their best interest to do so.
It’ll be a lot easier to take care of the kid if he’s awake. Really, don’t want to kill him with the drugs. Be hell to pay if that happened.
Was any of this getting to the jailer that was running the show or was it all just falling on deaf ears?
“You want me to get the stuff?” Mel heard a new voice ask the question.
After a long pause, during which Mel continued to repeat his persuasive argument for being kept awake, the reply came.
“Nah, not right now. We’ll keep him tied to the chair and hooded. Sooner or later we’ll probably need to feed him; at least give him some water.
“Listen, you can make it easier on yourself by staying quiet and not giving us any trouble. You understand? Otherwise, it’s back to la-la land for you.”
Mel nodded, thankful for the concession; but even more thankful to know that some of his powers were slowly returning. He’d bide his time and wait for the right moment to make these assholes pay for what they’d done to him and his sisters. Yes, payback would be hell.
Part Three
Drop
James turned to his right to gaze at Pat who slept scrunched up in the copilot seat beside him. He took a moment to study her. Still quite an attractive woman, he thought. Life sure has been kinder to her than to me, though he did notice the start of crow's feet at the corner of her eyes, and a few gray hairs.
He reached over and shook her gently. “Time to wake up, sunshine. It’s about time to drop our guys out.” He waited until Pat opened her eyes and stretched, enjoying the view despite himself.
“You awake?”
“More or less,” Pat answered. “Thanks for letting me sleep. The last few days…”
“No problem. I need you alert and on your toes. Keeping me out of trouble can be a full time job.”
“I imagine it can. Speaking of trouble, can I ask you something about this mission?”
“Sure, what’s on your mind?”
“Well,” she paused as though unsure what to say next.
“Go ahead, ask away,” James prompted her.
“You know you’re not going to be making many friends here in the Middle East.”
James nodded. “What’s your point?”
“I’m just wondering if you’ve thought this through thoroughly?”
James smiled. “Yes, I have. In fact, it’s by design.”
Pat looked at him, perplexed. “Meaning?”
“For some of us, this mission has a dual purpose. Besides rescuing the Kindred, it’s a partial payback.”
When he didn’t continue, Pat asked. “Care to elaborate on that?”
“Not really.” When she continued to stare at him, he continued. “A few years ago I headed up a mission. It was supposed to be an easy in and out, but we were set up. Our inside connection was from an influential family from Dubai. I lost a couple good guys on that assignment. So, payback.”
“Okay. Thanks for clarifying that,” Pat said. “What do you need me to do?”
“I need you to go open the door for the jump team and then close it after everyone is out.”
“Sure, no problem,” Pat replied as she began to unbuckle her seat belt. She glanced behind her to where Alp continued to sleep.
“Poor kid, this has got to be hard on her; and at such a young age.”
“Yeah, for sure. But I’ll tell you one thing, Alp’s a tough kid. They all are, and it would be a mistake for anyone to underestimate them; a big mistake.”
“No doubt,” Pat answered.
“You remember how I showed you how to open the ramp doors?”
Pat nodded.
“Be sure to stay clear. Otherwise, you could stumble and fall out the back. That’s okay for the guys with the parachutes -- not good for someone without one.”
Pat laughed. “Don’t worry. I’m not interested in starting our mission with such a mishap.”
She eased herself around Alp ,being careful not to awaken her. She opened the cockpit door and climbed down the ladder to the cargo area where the jump team stood. In the blue lighting used for jump runs, she could see the team going over their checklist in preparation for jumping into the night sky.
Four men sat side-by-side along one wall in the rear of the C-130 transporter, their equipment packs wedged between their legs. Their leader approached and signaled time to run a final check on their equipment. Each man stood, attaching their packs to the clips on the front of the jumpsuits. Each pack weighed up to fifty pounds and carried everything they’d need to complete their part of the mission. Even though each team member was an experienced jumper, any gear malfunction could wreak havoc on the mission before it got off the ground, or more accurately before they landed on the sandy soil of United Arab Emirates. Each man’s outfit started with a solid black jumpsuit and matching black combat boots, over which laid an array of equipment including two parachutes, a primary one and a second smaller chute in case of an unlikely malfunction of the primary. Since they were prepared for a HAHO jump—high altitude, high opening—their equipment included a small oxygen tank and mask. Each man also wore a flat black helmet and goggles. Now that they were fully equipped, it was nearly impossible to tell one man from another, unless you studied them carefully.
Jasper was the tallest of the team, standing several inches over six feet. If that wasn’t enough of a difference, he only had to open his mouth and say a few words for his thick southern drawl to give him away.
Firefly was the shortest man at just over five feet, five inches but far from being any less intimidating. His stocky, muscular frame made it easy to believe his claim of being able to bench press over four hundred pounds, even though his own weight tipped the scale under two-fifty. He also wore a small firefly emblem on the crest of his helmet, his homage to the short-lived television show by the same name.
It was a little harder to tell Shark from Firefly, since he was only a couple inches taller. Also, his claim to fame, and the reason for his nickname, was a face that most people who met him thought resembled a Great White. He perpetuated this trait with a similar predatory attitude.
Python, on the other hand, was the slimmest of the team, weighing in at just under one-hundred and seventy-five pounds and six feet in height. He’d acquired his nickname early in life when, as a high school
dropout, he’d invested a good bit of his drug business money into a collection of snakeskin boots; a practice he stopped years later when he learned how many hundreds of thousands of snakes were killed each year to make boots, handbags and wallets. After all, Python was an animal lover at heart.
But Todd didn’t worry about mistaking his team members identity, or anyone else’s for that matter. He had an uncanny talent he’d discovered in childhood that allowed him to identify virtually anyone he’d ever met. He thought of it like psychic fingerprinting. Over the years he’d discovered that not only did everyone have a unique psychic pattern, but they also had their own distinct smell. At first, he’d taken his keen sense of smell for granted, figuring everyone else had the same ability. It wasn’t until later he learned that he shared this gift, not with humans, but with canines. In short, Todd’s ability to detect odors was at least ten thousand times greater than humans. These two gifts made it possible for him to ID someone even in a pitch black room without them needing to say or do anything. It was just one of many traits that often came in handy in his line of work.
After Todd finished checking Python’s equipment with a slap on the parachute and a thumbs up, he stepped back and placed his hands on top of his helmet while Python ran a similar check on his equipment, receiving a slap and thumbs up a minute later. Todd glanced at his watch. Less than ten minutes before they’d reach the drop area. He confirmed with James by radio that they were still on schedule before turning back to his team.
“Com-check. Sound off; Jasper, loud and clear, Firefly, 5 by 5, Shark, got you lickin chicken, Python, clear as a bell. Ok, now listen up, I'm going over this one more time. Once you exit the plane, we’ll stay in communication via our headsets, but keep the chatter down to a minimum. Just to review; we’ll be exiting the plane at 37,000 feet. We’ll free fall fifteen to twenty-seconds. During this time, make sure you have visual contact with each other. Look for the glow-dots on your fellow jumpers. If you can make out the two separate dots, you’re too close. Back off a bit.
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