Cloud Rebel: R-D 3

by Connie Suttle

  "Who is this Smith guy?" I asked. "Matt, do you know?"

  "Not one of mine," Matt said. "If the President had any sense left, I'd ask him. As it is," he shrugged. "Smith could be anybody."

  "Do we have any images of this guy?" I asked.

  "Probably from somewhere," Matt nodded.

  "Good. You get them and I'll ask Cori to take a look-the next time we see her."

  "I will transport the images to her," Val offered. He'd been so quiet, I'd almost forgotten he was with us, still.

  "Give me a few minutes," Matt said and loped out of the room.

  * * *

  Corinne

  "Dearest, I hate to disturb you," Val appeared at my side. I stood on a porch designed after a Greek temple, which was connected to an outside display at the Archives.

  "You're not disturbing me," I said, turning toward him.

  "I have this," he handed a photograph to me. "Colonel Hunter says this is the man who betrayed Ilya. He calls himself Milton Smith-Lead Agent Milton Smith."

  I went still for a moment, before reaching for the photograph with shaking fingers. My gaze raked across Smith's features many times, as if willing them to change. When I handed the picture back to Val, I understood much more than I had earlier.

  "Tell Auggie that he won't be able to stop this one," I said. "No human can."

  I knew Val wanted more information, but I couldn't give it to him. I wiped tears away and struggled to keep my sobs under control. How had I not suspected this? I'd read so many things in the Archives.

  "What shall I tell Colonel Hunter to do, then?" Val asked gently. He attempted to place his arms around me, but I moved away from him.

  I'd never felt so empty, before. Even when Ilya's obsession was to kill me, at least I knew he lived.

  What he was now-Ilya was gone. An automaton had taken his place-one who would murder anyone on command. I considered bending time, but there were so many things to correct, so many things I wanted to do-or that needed doing, that the sheer magnitude of it was overwhelming.

  I understood, somehow, that Val or Kalenegar or the Larentii as a whole would find a way to stop me before I was even halfway done. Perhaps some things I could get away with, but it wouldn't bring me any closer to righting the whole of the wrong.

  As for destroying Agent Smith, well, I doubted any Larentii could do it.

  Smith was a rogue god, after all, in a time before all the rogues had been destroyed.

  Yes, I knew his name.

  I also knew he had a weakness.

  I saw it in his face. I wondered at the fact that I could read him, but then I'd always been able to read Opal and Matt, too. Perhaps it was a side effect of the drug.

  Perhaps it was something else-whether blessing or curse, I couldn't say. Hugging myself, I turned back to the view off the porch. Did Phillips even know what he'd recruited to his cause?

  I doubted that. Phillips, even as a clone, imagined himself to be in charge.

  He wasn't.

  Liron, the rogue god, was.

  "Dearest, I know you are in pain. Allow me to help," Val spoke softly.

  "I need to be alone for a while longer," I said. "I'm sorry. I just-have to work through this on my own."

  "Call if you need me," he said. "Never forget that I love you."

  "I won't forget," I whispered. "For as long as I live."

  * * *

  Notes-Colonel Hunter

  "Val says we can't destroy this one-that no human can, according to Corinne," I handed the photograph back to Matt.

  He and I sat in a small meeting room at the White House, fidgeting and waiting for another appearance from the President.

  At times, I wondered if I shouldn't just go to the most respected journalist I knew and tell him everything, so the world would know that we were being led by someone in serious need of psychological help.

  That would not only brand me as a fellow lunatic, but a treasonous one, too.

  "We have intel," the President swept into the room, poor Laura Quimby almost running to keep up with him. "Those fuckers are in New York," he said. "They want to kill the entire city."

  * * *

  "Does he expect us to believe this?" I fumed.

  We'd driven to Matt's office-it was closer to the White House-to discuss the evidence the President had given us for the insurgency's presence in New York.

  Since Matt and I knew the sarin attacks weren't initiated by the insurgents, we doubted they'd have the gas or the drones necessary to launch an assault.

  Yes, we had photographs, but those could be faked easily enough. I was just about to say that when Opal magically appeared in Matt's office.

  I stopped breathing for a moment.

  "It's time you knew," Matt sighed. "This has gone beyond what we signed up for."

  "What the hell are you talking about?" I demanded, once I got my breath back.

  "He's saying the insurgents aren't in New York-well, there may be a few, but they're still in hiding, too afraid to peek out of their shells," Opal huffed. "If anybody is in New York to kill people, it'll be the Lyristolyi-who, unwittingly, may be playing into another's hands for the worst end-game imaginable."

  "Whose hands?"

  "Agent Smith's, or so he calls himself. Corinne didn't identify him and we don't know his real name; he's relatively new in this part of the equation."

  * * *

  James

  We knew something was wrong. Katya was on edge all the time, which unsettled Sergei. Dr. Shaw did his best to calm both down, but he felt it, too.

  Nathan said everything was under pressure-as if we were locked inside an airless space in which the breaths we drew felt like our last.

  I couldn't disagree with him-I wanted to talk in whispers, like someone was listening that shouldn't be.

  We hadn't seen Cori or Val for more than two days. I didn't know what to make of that, either, and wished for the trick she had of speaking mind-to-mind.

  Bekzi-normally he and Gerrett were smiling or cheering up the rest of us. Both had succumbed to whatever this was. Neither could explain it, either. Whatever conversation they had, it was done mentally and the rest of us weren't included.

  * * *

  Corinne

  As a Larentii, I had a talent for making lists in my head-I could even visualize each list and add to or subtract from it. The lists I worked on now-were morbid in nature.

  They held the names of the dead.

  One list held the names of those who'd have died, regardless. Some of those names shocked and saddened me-to the point of depression.

  The other held the list of names that shouldn't be dead. Their continued existence would have held the future together and helped keep chaos from becoming triumphant.

  Norian and Lendill were on that list.

  I hesitated before adding Ilya's name to that one. This was something I had to do quickly, before the histories recorded for the Archives shifted.

  Yes, it could happen. Had happened-in lesser circumstances-already. I'm sure Nefrigar would have been happy to discuss it with me.

  I didn't have time.

  Nobody did. Not really.

  I'd compared the lists so many times the names were burned on the cells of my eyes.

  One name was missing from both lists.

  One name could resolve nearly everything, when combined with the proper actions.

  Holding out my arm, I studied it for a moment. As a Larentii, I had perfect, blue, flawless skin. Reaching out with my other hand, I Pulled away the tiny chip that Kalenegar had placed inside a wrist bone. This allowed them to track me, wherever I went. They'd said it in the beginning-I was an unreadable and impossible to track unless I sent mindspeech or expended certain types of power.

  I intended to expend that power.

  I merely didn't intend to wait this time for them to show up afterward.

  Forming a replica of myself, similar to those of the Three in the Archives, I placed the chip in the wrist
of my doppelganger and bent time.

  Chapter 16

  Notes-Colonel Hunter

  "James, stop worrying-the President is overreacting," I said over the phone. "Yes, I know the President has declared a state of emergency and ordered that D.C. be evacuated, but I'm pretty sure we're safe, here. He's doing the same thing to New York City, when there's really no evidence to support his claim that they'll be attacked with sarin."

  "Colonel Hunter," Leo was now on the phone, "I hope you take all warnings seriously. I am becoming quite concerned over the state of affairs across the globe."

  "Shaw? What the hell are you talking about?" I demanded.

  "Don't you feel it?" he asked. "That you're in a pressure cooker that's about to blow?"

  "Hell, I'm up to my eyebrows in worry that the President will send nukes into every nook and cranny, to take revenge on anybody who's ever looked at him wrong," I exploded. "You're safe where you are-or at least that's how it looks from where I'm sitting," I added.

  "Do you want me to schedule a flight home?" he asked.

  "No. Hell no," I shouted. "Just stay the hell away, and keep the others with you."

  "Katya wants to know what has happened to her father and Corinne," he said.

  That settled my hash in a blink. "Damn," I muttered and pinched the bridge of my nose.

  "What happened?"

  "Rafe-he's, well, he may as well be dead," I mumbled. "The enemy has him and he's-been obsessed again. Only this time, it's much, much worse. Corinne is in mourning. Val says that to the rest of us, Rafe is dead. Phillips is using him as a weapon, for who knows how much death and destruction."

  "Fucking hell," Shaw cursed.

  * * *

  Corinne

  There was one person I wanted to tell about my plan, and he was currently obsessed so deeply there was no reaching him. It involved him, after all, in addition to many, many others.

  I sat at a small table at the coffee shop in Vancouver-the one Ilya and I had chosen during our search for Baikov. For us, that may as well have been a lifetime ago. Ilya probably didn't have the memory any longer-in my estimation, the obsession the Phillips clone placed was similar to those I'd seen in others the original had taken for slaves-they had no will of their own. Only Phillips' will mattered, and it consumed them.

  Sure, I could pick a time to go back-to find Ilya and explain matters to him. There were several problems with that option. First, I'd be crying and holding onto him so hard, he'd know something was wrong right away.

  Second, I'd be tempted-too tempted-to blow everybody else off and just disappear with him. I could fix it so we'd never be found, after all. That, of course, would leave everybody else in the cesspit that Earth had become, and the future would crumble just as surely as it was crumbling now.

  That's what I wanted to fix in all this-the future. Fix it so the major events wouldn't be altered and the rogue gods would be just as dead. At this point in time, many of them still lived, and someone had called at least one of the hidden rogues out and set him on Earth to destroy everything.

  Liron has a weak spot.

  I reminded myself of that. I merely had to figure out how to exploit it, in order to convince him to leave Earth alone. Everything else in my plan hinged on that.

  * * *

  Notes-Colonel Hunter

  "You should beef up your security," Matt said. "If you intend to stay here."

  "I thought this whole, crazy idea the President has didn't have merit," I blustered.

  "But what if he's captured the attention of the Lyristolyi by attempting to evacuate everybody? Wouldn't it be perfect and serve to panic everybody if they manage to kill people while they're trying to escape from D.C. and New York? You've seen the gridlock on the news. It's prime time for them to act. Who do you think will start lobbing missiles first if they see hundreds of thousands drop dead while they're stuck in traffic jams on the streets?"

  "Granville," I mumbled. "Who would he target first?"

  "I think he'd consider a two-prong attack-the Middle East and Russia. If he wants to toss China into the mix," Matt went silent for a moment.

  "And we have more than enough missiles to destroy them and every other country on the planet," I added for him. "All while they launch a counter-attack, and that will be all she wrote."

  "It's what the Lyristolyi want-you can bet on that. They launch the initial attacks, then sit back and watch the rest of us destroy ourselves. To all outside interests, we will have destroyed ourselves. The Lyristolyi will remain blameless in this action. Except we know better. That's why you need to beef up your security. They'll be coming after anybody who can point a finger in their direction, you know. You're vulnerable-more than you realize, Colonel Hunter. Find some guards. Look for a way to get out if you have to. It may be the only thing standing between them and total destruction."

  "Holy, fucking shit," I muttered. Right then, I wanted Corinne. And Rafe. The Rafe we knew, and not the one who may as well be dead. Those two I would trust with my life.

  "What about Laci?" I asked. "Will they look for her, too? She's still at her sister's house."

  "Anything's possible."

  "Just when you think it can't get any worse," I sighed.

  "Worse? That's coming," Matt said and ended the call.

  * * *

  Corinne

  I'd determined that I couldn't talk to Ilya-not the present me. The past me-I'd already done that. It meant revisiting the past and concealing myself to hear the conversation between us, but I did it.

  It was painful.

  "Cabbage, all of us face terrible things. No matter how good we are, we cannot prevent all of them from happening." The sheets rustled as Ilya shoved them back and worked himself into a sitting position beside me-the me from the past.

  "Will you answer a question for me, then?" she/I sighed.

  "Always."

  "What if," she began and then stopped.

  "What if what?" Ilya said when she/I hesitated.

  "Ilya, I love you more than anything," she said.

  "And I you."

  Watching from my hidden vantage point, I wept while dampening the sound. I still loved him more than anything, yet things had gone so far awry he couldn't be brought back from it.

  "But what if-what if I'm faced with a choice-of saving you from something awful, or letting the enemy get away?" she said.

  "Cabbage, listen to me," he said, pulling her face around so his eyes met with hers/mine. "Get that piece of excrement. No matter what. I have been taking care of myself for a very long time. Let me worry about me in that situation. Take the bastard down."

  "Then you do the same, Ilya," she said before kissing him fiercely and drawing away to speak again. "No matter what my situation is, kill him if you can."

  "I have never had a love such as this," he declared. "We understand one another."

  "I've waited for you my whole life," she said and kissed him again.

  I was sobbing as I folded space. We'd made a promise. I'd kept it once. I was about to do it again.

  * * *

  Winkler

  "Dad, I'm not doing this." Wayne flung out a hand. "It's suicide-on your part. The Pack could turn on me immediately after, and where will all your grand plans be, then?"

  "Look, I'm old," I pointed out. "It's only a matter of time before somebody comes to make a challenge. The Pack and the business needs to remain in Winkler hands, not somebody else's. This is to protect you, your sister and the children that will come. You understand me?" I gave him the sternest look I could muster.

  The truth was, I had no idea how my father had done this. I was just as belligerent about it then as Wayne was, now. Inwardly I was quaking-I knew I'd have to throw the fight, and any wolf would realize how difficult that would be.

  The instinct is strong in favor of preservation. Wayne was correct-it was suicide. He, like me, would be scarred the rest of his life because of it. Because of his role in it.

  There
wasn't any other way, though, unless I wanted to hand the Pack and everything else I had to a victor who'd have no mercy for my son. This was the only way.

  "Son, you'll do this because I love you. I'll do it because you love me. That will never change," I said. "Remember that when I'm gone and you're Packmaster-that there was love between us, even at the last."

  "Daddy." He came to me then and wrapped his arms around my neck.

  "Hush, son, it'll be all right," I said and held him tight.

  * * *

  Opal

  As it turned out, I'd been right about the rogue god. The trouble was, he had a Sirenali, which meant Matt and I had no way to get to him, or to tell how powerful he was. We'd pretty much screwed up by not taking things more seriously than we had.

  I told you so wanted to come out of my mouth so badly, that I had to physically stop my words from forming. Matt misinterpreted my frown.

  "I know I wasn't supposed to say anything to Hunter-it won't matter in the end," Matt snapped as I sent him a questioning look. "He'll just have a heads-up when they come to the door," he added.

  "Right. So he'll have time to worry and be afraid beforehand," I retorted. "The timeline is fraying. Only a few more things to happen before it all turns to shit and we're on a battlefield again, only this time, it'll likely go the other way."

  * * *

  Gerrett

  Corinne? I'd finally succumbed to my fears and attempted to contact her directly. Bekzi, who stood with me on the villa's patio, sighed and looked away. He knew what I was doing. He didn't try to stop me.

  Honey, I can't talk right now, she returned. Will you do something for me, though?

  Anything, I promised.

  Ask Bekzi to make sure that you, James and Nathan are kept safe.

  I will.

  Thank you.

  That was the end of our conversation. It was something I'd replay in my head in the future, but I failed to recognize the importance of it now. Instead, I relayed her message to Bekzi, who blinked at me with eyes that weren't quite humanoid before nodding.

  "I do this," he confirmed aloud. "For her."

  * * *

  Notes-Colonel Hunter

  "I think you may be in danger, too," I pointed out. Brett walked beside me, limping slightly since one of the bullets that hit him had been removed from his left leg. Valegar had healed the wound but it was still sore-that's what Brett said when I went to the ugly building in Arlington to collect him.