“Boys, boys, boys!” Nadia stood up, interrupting the rapidly evolving love-fest. “How did we get the medallion in the first place?
Lopez looked at her. “Do you know Stanley Hartwell?”
“Yeah, we know Stan. He’s that guy that lives a floor below us.”
“He works for Luzveyn Dred.”
Drew stared at Lopez; he may have well just told them Stanley worked for Santa Claus.
“What? Little Stanley drags people off to the Spatium Quartus and tortures them?”
“No. Remember in the Dracula movies how a non-vampire human did their master’s bidding during the daytime? In like fashion, Stanley performs services for Luzveyn Dred in this dimension. He locates medallions all over the world and acquires them. It’s as though he has a sixth sense for where they are. For some time now, he’s been shipping the medallions he acquires to Italy. We’ve been watching him the past couple years.”
“You have medallions. Why doesn’t he sense yours?” Drew asked.
“They’re masked by the dream-link block signals. It’s a technology we developed so that people from the outside can’t link to our dreams. It masks his ability to sense the medallions while we’re in the condo.”
“You still haven’t answered my question,” Nadia said. “How did we get the medallion?”
“Recently we’ve been intercepting the medallions he tries to send. He must have broken into your condo and planted it in your luggage.”
“Hold on,” Nadia said. “Isn’t it rather coincidental that we both live in the same building as the person working for Luzveyn Dred?”
Lopez chuckled. “It’s no coincidence that I’m here,” he said. “I moved in shortly after Stanley bought here. What better way to keep my eye on him?”
“Why did Stanley move here? Did it have something to do with me, with us?” Drew asked.
“I seriously doubt that,” Lopez said. “This area is a perfect location for his operation. He’s a short drive up to LAX and international travel anywhere in the world. It’s a slightly longer one to Las Vegas, where a number of medallions turned up in pawn shops. If for any reason Stanley needed to flee the country, he’s an hour from the Mexican border. The only reason you’re involved in this is that you happened to be going to Italy.”
“Are we in danger?” Drew asked.
“Not immediate danger,” Lopez said, “but the Sogno di Guerra has sent an assassin to retrieve the medallion.”
- Chapter Twenty One -
“An assassin?”
Drew felt his jaw clench and his face grow hot. Lopez gestured for him to stay calm.
“I own a place a few hours away in the mountains near Lake Arrowhead, where we’ll be safe, he said.” It can’t be traced to me. I know, because even my ex-wife’s blood-sucking lawyer didn’t find it during the divorce. We should leave now—all of us.”
“I hate to be skeptical,” Nadia said, “but is there any proof of any of this?”
Kat’s voice came from the other room. “There’s a bullet hole in my windshield if you’d like to conduct a Crime Scene Investigation.”
Nadia rolled her eyes but it was enough for Drew. He turned to Alfonso. “You put yourself at great risk to come and warn us. You’re staying with us tonight, right?”
After an approving nod from Lopez, Alfonso consented.
“Oh yes,” Alfonso said, raising his finger in the air, “I have something else to contribute!”
They stared at him. For a moment, Drew wondered if he was going to shock them with news of some bizarre sort of laser beam weapon. “What is it?”
“I have your luggage from Italy in my rental car.”
Drew sighed. Nadia was beaming as if she’d won the lottery.
“Yo, Hector.” Kat’s called out again from the other room. “I hate to break up the warm little moment out there, but if we’re getting out of this joint, what’s the plan?”
After Alexis’s necessities were collected, they were ready to depart. The group headed to the parking garage, where they loaded up the van and made their exodus, crammed closely together. Since Kat knew the route, Lopez decreed that she drive Alfonso in his rental. Lopez delivered them to the vehicle parked two blocks away. The caravan proceeded on its way.
“Is it okay if Alexis sleeps?” Nadia asked, allowing her little one to cuddle up next to her in the back of the van. “She’s exhausted.”
“It shouldn’t be a problem,” Lopez said. “Just make sure she keeps that medallion around her neck. As long as she has possession of it, she can’t be transported to the Spatium Quartus.”
*
*
*
“Follow the white van,” Stanley said to Tapusscar. The assassin had wrapped duct-tape around his hand and wrist to keep it stable so that he could drive. “Stay far behind them. Remember, we don’t need to be too close. I can transport myself from a mile away.”
Stanley assumed that the giant already knew the plan he’d concocted. He sometimes confused real and imagined conversations, because his mind constantly played out multiple scenarios. It seemed irrelevant to discuss what he’d figured out minutes ago. Besides, now he knew the assassin would follow his orders.
He closed his eyes and prepared to project that internal part of him that was half Stanley and half Luzveyn Dred. He allowed his spirit to bathe in the warmth of the medallions. They spoke to him, called to him, cried out for him like lost children in a crowded airport. Splintered bits of the Spatium Quartus attracted to each other as magnets to metal. There was no need to keep the van in sight; the medallions would direct him where he needed to go.
Although Stanley was not a romantic person, he understood the concept of soul mates. It mirrored his relationship with the medallions. One by one, the internalized power of Luzveyn Dred united him with them. He recalled the words of Dr. Ponterosso when Stanley had asked how the medallions changed people.
What already exists in them is awakened.
Something disturbed Stanley. If the blonde girl had been tailing him, how had he not felt the presence of her medallion prior to tonight? He had projected himself outward at night, searching for them. Had some mysterious force shielded her, or had he just been too focused on faraway glory to discover the medallion right under his nose? Since the time he’d realized that the girl had trailed him to the airport, he had been obsessed with how long he had been under observation.
A year? Longer?
Further thought was interrupted by a shout from the giant.
“Hey! The van turned right and the other car kept going. Which do you want me to follow?”
“Ah, yeah,” Stanley said. He’d expected this. “Continue straight. They’re trying to make certain that they’re not being followed. Even if the other car does something similar, just keep driving. I don’t even need visual contact anymore to track them. We can wait up ahead and do a U-turn if they return west.”
The other car did soon backtrack. But as directed, Tapusscar proceeded to Interstate 15, and pulled into a park-n-ride lot just off the exit ramp. Stanley adjusted his leather seat backwards to recline. He relaxed and eventually connected with the inner focus that allowed him to locate the medallions, to feel them. They were again moving toward him.
The Lexus remained hidden from the street long after the other group had passed by and proceeded north on the highway. A minute later, as they merged onto the dark freeway, he issued a final order to Tapusscar. “Just drive. Keep them within eyesight, but stay far behind. I’m going to link to the woman’s mind and steal their medallions.”
The assassin’s eyes bulged wide. He must not have known such a thing was possible.
Stanley settled comfortably and withdrew into the recesses of his mind. He searched for Nadia’s sleeping brainwaves, but as of yet, she hadn’t entered REM. The waiting had always been the most difficult aspect of the process. Last time he joined her dreams, he’d manipulated the Russian woman to obey his command—to hide the medallion in their lug
gage. This link, Stanley would use a similar tactic—only in reverse.
Finally, he sensed the commencement of her dreams. His dream-spirit elevated high above the car and darted forward at lightning speed. He propelled his consciousness forward, through a maze of her swirling subconscious thoughts. He experienced the familiar sensation of warmth exuding from the medallion she possessed. Stanley splashed through a ring of light into Nadia’s subconscious mind. He quickly rifled through mental files exposing all that she knew of Luzveyn Dred and the Sogno di Guerra plan.
When he’d scanned through everything, he laughed. She knew next to nothing of the plan, and he assumed the others shared her ignorance. He reveled in gratitude of the Master’s power and strength. Then, he refocused and mentally prepared for his mission. power and strength. Then, he refocused and mentally prepared for his mission.
Stanley entered Nadia’s dream disguised as her boyfriend, Drew.
*
*
*
The rental car’s engine strained as it maintained its speed up the ascent on freeway 15. Before the u-turn to check for tails, Kat had filled Alfonso in on Lopez’s background, the OIA, and the events of February 1982. She changed lanes to remain behind the van. They crossed the hills that separated San Diego and Riverside counties. The unlit freeway was deserted except for the occasional speedster who flew by, possibly in the early, eager stages of a trip, taking the Interstate 15 north for some high-stakes gambling in Las Vegas.
“So tell me more about Padre Gennaro and your adventures with him.”
“How do I begin to describe Padre Gennaro? Well,” he said clearing his throat, “after I had gotten the medallion from my undercover agent in the Sogno di Guerra, for the longest time, I couldn’t find out heads nor tails about it—pun intended.”
Kat chuckled.
“Its origin,” he said, “the symbols on it, why they were so important to the Sogno di Guerra everything—remained a mystery. At the same time, I was plagued by terrible nightmares. One night, at the height of my terror, I was saved. A man with wings swooped in and fought off the creatures that had been torturing me. It was Padre Gennaro. He instructed me to wake up and keep the medallion with me when I slept.”
“Did you say with wings?” she inquired. “It’s virtually impossible to change your physical appearance in the S.Q.! Hector once tried to show me how, but no flippin’ way could I do it. Dude, I mean not even minor adaptations.”
“You’re right,” he said. “But virtually impossible is not impossible. Padre Gennaro proved that on many occasions. I bet you’ve never heard of someone passing medallions through dream links. Padre Gennaro could do that.”
“Wow,” Kat said. “Did you guys connect to the S.Q. through other people, or directly? How did you learn to dream link anyway?”
“Padre Gennaro taught me. He pretty much taught me all I know about dream linking, Luzveyn Dred, the Spatium Quartus.”
“So he developed the technology? Did you use drugs?”
“No. No drugs. For both dream links, and eventually transporting directly to the Spatium Quartus, we used a combination of the medallions, and the power of prayer.”
“The power of prayer!” Kat said. “Hoo-Freakin-Rah!”
The car lurched ahead, and drew closer to the white van.
“You’re not a big believer, I take it?” Alfonso asked.
“An atheist father, and a mother that prayer couldn’t bring back to life? Nah, never big on the stuff, myself.”
“I understand,” he said.
The hum of the road was the only sound for more than a few minutes.
“Padre Gennaro was legendary for his ability to rescue people,” Kat said. “Is it true that he never resorted to violence with Dred’s henchmen?”
Alfonso chuckled. “Well, kid, that’s not entirely true. He fought the beasts with the best of them. Over time, he began to develop pity, and then empathy towards them as lost, damaged souls. He began to have hope for them, to pray for them, and eventually, he began to convert them.”
“He converted the beasts of the S.Q.?” That had been part of the legend she’d rejected as impossible.
“Yes, many of them openly defied Luzveyn Dred and were killed. We hope that others were affected and that their loyalty or performance has been affected.”
“You think they’ll be less successful implanting elements of the S.Q. in people’s minds?”
“We can hope and pray. Take that little girl up there,” he said pointing to the van, “she’s being targeted by Dred.”
“How do you know that?”
“Dreams of Hitler have always been part of Luzveyn Dred’s modus operandi. Some of the beasts Padre Gennaro converted told how their tutelage under Luzveyn Dred began by watching Dred torture others. Whether the visions are actual torture, replays of torture, or merely imagery concocted to haunt Dred’s victims, at some point the watcher is given an ultimatum to inflict pain, or be tortured themselves. No matter the choice, by that point they are firmly in the clutches of Luzveyn Dred.”
One question had plagued Kat since she’d began working with Lopez.
“Is Luzveyn Dred the Devil?” she asked quietly.
Before he could answer, she sensed something was wrong. Ahead of them, the white van ahead began to swerve back and forth.
Kat grabbed the walkie-talkie. “Yo, Hector, what’s going on up there?”
Static and silence were the only reply. The van slowed considerably and swayed enough to clunk over the road reflectors embedded in the freeway. She pulled into the left lane and revved the rental car’s engine to overtake the erratic vehicle.
“Hector, what the hell is wrong?”
*
*
*
Disguised as Drew, Stanley approached and stood at the head of a small, wooden table in a sparsely furnished kitchen. Nadia sipped tea and stared across at her obese mother. The woman spilled over the edges of her seat hunched over an enormous cookbook. An unseen clock ticked loud enough to drown out the sound of turning pages.
He shouted at the mother. “Your daughter has become a prostitute!”
Both mother and daughter gaped speechless.
“Drew, what are you talking about?” Nadia appeared on the verge of tears. “Why have you come to Moscow?”
Stanley turned toward Nadia.
“You are nothing but a whore!”
“Why you say such things at me?” she asked, obviously flustered.
He had her right where he wanted her.
“You had sex with me and took my money!”
Looking embarrassed and humiliated, Nadia looked at her disapproving mother, then back to him. The counting of the invisible clock boomed louder, shaking the table and causing the silverware to clink and rattle with every beat. It seemed only the flabby arms of Nadia’s massive mother kept the table from bouncing away.
Tears seared Nadia’s high cheekbones. They streamed down her alabaster skin, dripping from her chin onto her red sweater.
“No, but Drew, I love you.” She stood up and, attempting to substantiate her claim, advanced toward him.
“No!” His word stopped her in her tracks. “You took my money. You have my coin!”
Nadia looked down at wringing hands that revealed nothing. Then she paused and patted the upper-thighs of her slacks. She exhaled deeply as she pulled the medallion from her pocket.
“I don’t want it, Drew! I can’t even remember how I got it.”
She reached out and placed it into his already extended hand.
“Good. Now give me back the diamond necklace.”
“Baby, what are you talking about?” She wiped tears from her cheeks.
“The one you put on Alexis.” Stanley pointed atop the table where Alexis now lay sleeping, wrapped in a blanket. The rickety table continued to be rocked with every thunderous tick and tock.
“She shouldn’t be sleeping there.” Disappointment was thick in her voice as she shook her head.
“Nadia, the necklace!”
“Okay.” She restrained strands of red hair behind both ears.
Nadia pulled back the blanket revealing the delicate body of her little girl dressed in pink Tinker Bell pajamas. Around her neck lay one of the precious medallions but Stanley had changed its appearance in the dream. All she would see was a string of extravagant, glittering jewels. Nadia, looking eager to appease her lover, reached to unclasp the necklace, then paused and glanced back. Her face bore a quizzical expression.
“Ты уверен?”
“What?” Even a minor delay annoyed Stanley.
From somewhere off in the distance, Drew’s voice could be heard. “What did you say, sweetie?”
Stanley stood, arm stretched out, palm up, expecting her to hand over the medallion that would seal the child’s fate. His mind was already imagining the glorious praise he would receive from his Master.
Again, Nadia asked something in her native tongue.
“What are you saying?! Just give me the necklace!”
“I was asking if you’re sure.”
The counting of the clock stopped after a “tick.” The final “tock” never came.
“Honey,” Drew’s concerned voice questioned from far away, “what are you doing?”
In an instant, Stanley’s mind played out a dozen scenarios in which his plan could be foiled. He began to feel his hopes and dreams of glory slipping away.
“Give it to me now!”
Nadia’s right hand dropped to her side, and she rested her left hand on the diamonds as if to indicate she needed a moment to think.
As soon as her fingers touched it, Stanley lunged toward the medallion. His first swipe missed, but even as she tried to back away from him, he grabbed hold and wrestled it from her grasp. Having gained possession, he began drifting back out of her dreaming mind. The confused woman stared down at her empty hand.
The dream went black. Stanley knew Nadia and the child were being pulled into the Spatium Quartus. They were screaming.
*
*
*
Static flared on the two-way radio. Kat and Alfonso looked to the van’s driver’s seat to see a panic-stricken Drew, staring straight ahead, hands clutching the steering wheel. He accelerated.
Dream War Page 17