“Put me down!” she exclaimed, and he obliged.
“And now you’re up,” Greg said, rubbing her hair.
“Come on. It is already a mess. Quit messing with me.” Jasmine pushed his hand away.
“It looks fine. I don't think you know how to look a mess,” Greg replied, grabbing his bag and putting it near the door. Jasmine pulled her blonde hair back into a pony tail and looked over to Chessy and James, still cuddled up in bed. “Fine, if you got the joy of waking me, I get to wake them.”
Greg laughed as Jasmine jumped into bed in between James and Chessy, waking both of them with a bounce.
“What the hell?!” James exclaimed as he tumbled out of the bed. Chessy was able to steady herself by grabbing onto Jasmine.
“See, she is my girlfriend, now,” Jasmine joked, staring at James on the floor.
“Not cool, Jasmine, not cool,” James laughed, pulling himself to his feet.
“Not that I am not enjoying this, but I keep hearing everyone heading to the training floor. I don't think it would be in our best interest to be left behind,” Greg added.
“Relax. Not to sound snobby, but there is no way Mom is leaving me and James behind,” Jasmine replied.
“Well, I am not getting left behind, so I am headed up to the floor.” Greg grabbed his bag and threw it over his shoulder. “Are any of you joining me?”
“Yes, I'm coming.” Jasmine jumped to her feet and up to her bed, where she grabbed her bag and threw it over her shoulder, grasping her sword in its sheave in her right hand. “Where is yours? Or are you planning on leaving it behind?”
“Shit!” Greg exclaimed, moving to his bed and pulling his sword out from under the bed. As Jasmine and Greg headed out the door, James and Chessy were still acclimating themselves to the rude awakening.
“Are you ok?” James questioned to Chessy.
“Yeah I'm fine. We need to get going.”
James rooted around to get his bag together as Chessy did the same. Once they were both ready, James grabbed his bow and bag, grasping both with his left hand as he wrapped his right arm around Chessy. The two of them headed out the door to join the rest of the team. Once they arrived at the training floor, they realized they were the last ones there.
Marie did not look pleased. “Thank you for joining us,” she snapped.
“Sorry,” James sheepishly replied.
“Now that we have everyone, we can get ready to leave. I have some supplies for each of you.” Marie gestured towards the pile of bags and cases next to her. “Your names are on your supplies. Grab your bags. I won't be carrying any for you,” Marie ordered, grabbing her backpack and pulling it over her arms. “Let's move out. We have a plane waiting on us.” Marie abandoned the bags and cases and went straight for the stairs leading out of the bunker.
All of the team members quickly moved to the pile of bags and feverishly searched for the bag or case with their name on it. James found his, a long black case. He opened it. On the inside, he found a hand gun and holster. He also found an arrow bag, along with about fifty arrows in three different colors, black, purple, and yellow. James smiled. He had no idea why the colors, but he figured it was something pretty cool. James closed the case and looked around to his peers opening their bags and cases. Both Rose and Marcus got cases just like his. Everyone else had bags. It looked to him that everyone had received a handgun and ammo and additional knives and supplies.
Dovia looked extremely pleased as she pulled out a new set of nun-chucks from her bag. “These look ten times better than the ones I started with. I can't wait to try them,” she said, spinning them in her hands.
“Hey, I didn't get a new ax,” Liam complained.
“That's because we don't trust you with the one you have,” Dovia retorted. Everyone chuckled. “Wait a minute. I am great with it. You are just jealous, because it is so cool.”
“Ok, Thor, whatever makes you happy,” Rose added. The room erupted in laughter. The laughter was silenced by Ray entering the room. Nobody had noticed he was not with them. “Sir, there are two bags for you, as well,” Rose said calmly.
“Bags for me?” Ray questioned, confused.
“Yes, she has bags for all of us. Yours looks like a rifle bag,” Dovia added, pointing to Ray's bags sitting undisturbed on the floor.
Ray approached the two bags; one was a rifle bag and the other a black backpack. Ray knelt down in front of the rifle bag and unzipped it. As he unfolded the bag to display its contents, he smiled. It was a Barrett M82 50 cal rifle. He hadn't used one of those in a while, but the look and feel as he pulled the pieces out of the bag to examine them was the same. It felt natural. “Did all of you get weapons?”
“Yes and ammo. Check your bag. I bet there is at least another handgun in there,” Greg added.
Ray didn't bother. He just put the pieces to his rifle back into its case and zipped it back up. “Where is she?” Ray inquired, looking around.
“She's up top.” Liam pointed to the ceiling.
“Then we are keeping her waiting. Grab your things and let's go,” Ray ordered. Ray pulled his bags over his shoulders and moved towards the stairs. Everyone quickly responded, doing the same and filing up the stairs behind him. Once up top, everyone but Ray gazed upon the Cargo Jet sitting in the field.
“When did that get here?!” Liam exclaimed.
“Yesterday, let's go,” Ray replied.
As they approached, they saw Marie talking to the two pilots. “Load up; we have waited long enough,” she ordered.
They all poured into the open hanger door on the plane and found seats along the length of the plane. Pulling the straps to secure themselves in their seats, thoughts of where they were going were floating through their heads.
“Any idea where we are going?” James asked, being the only one brave enough to ask.
“Hawaii,” Marie calmly replied.
“Sweet, beaches and babes, my kind of trip,” Liam joked.
Some of the team members laughed. Ray did not. He knew there was only one reason to head to Hawaii, the naval base. He un-did his straps and followed Marie, who was moving towards the pilot’s cabin on the plane. Once he was out of hearing range of the team members, he made his move. “Why the naval base?” he asked, grabbing her by her shoulder and turning her around.
“Why do you think?” Marie snapped back.
“He's going to launch the fleet. I thought war was something we were trying to avoid.”
“The war is inevitable. I am just trying to contain it. If I have to play along with him to get the resources and time to end this before it destroys everything, then by God, that's what I am going to do.” Marie pulled her arm away from Ray. “Get strapped in. We are leaving.”
Ray stepped back. He knew she was right. That didn't mean he liked it.
Chapter
17
With the murder of the first lady, followed shortly by the death of Paloma Barez, the accusations floated around wildly as to who was to blame. Finger pointing was filling the media streams. The United Nations knew it was time to call together the affected countries to prevent military action from being the solution of choice. President Warren gladly accepted and flew to Geneva, Switzerland, where he was taken directly to the United Nations of Geneva. The white facade and cascading flags greeted President Warren as he entered the main entrance. Once inside the front door, he was greeted by Prime Minister Franklin.
“Picking an always neutral country was a cute idea.” Warren smirked, shaking Franklin’s hand as the two made their way towards their meeting room.
“I guess a World War Two reminder is supposed to be a hint. We do have the option to involve them. Expose Sergei and his plans to the world. Garner support and take him down unified.”
“That is if they believe us, and even if they do, it will just make him accelerate. He can't know until the last minute that we are prepared to destroy him. A plane just picked up our girl and the children. They are getting ready
to make the first move. We still have to look sympathetic and victimized. The time will come.”
“How many will die before that?”
“How many have already died because of this? Countless. We will bring an end to this, but not with them,” Warren said, pointing to the door to the conference room from where they were now standing only feet away. “This is about us finally taking back the power. We are nobody's puppets, anymore.”
Franklin nodded.
“Time to put on a show.” Warren laughed as he as Franklin entered the room together, side by side. This was the first real show of unity the two of them had displayed. Representatives from Russia, China, and France sat before them, along with the mediator of choice, Dr. Jennifer Marr. Dr. Marr was a world renowned psychologist and a trained negotiator. Aged only forty-five, to be at her status was no small feat. A native of Germany, her Nordic looks and charming personality didn't hurt her ability to get men to comply.
“Thank you, gentlemen, for joining us. Now, we can get started,” she pleasantly addressed Warren and Franklin in her thick German accent. Warren and Franklin took their seats at the long table at the center of the room. Dr. Marr held the head position at the end of the table. “I know that a lot of gossip has filled the minds of many of your countrymen, but in here, gossip is not the issue. Facts are. So let's review the facts. The American Embassy was attacked, and multiple US citizens were killed. The perpetrator was identified as the Ambassador's wife, Katrina. Her body was pulled from the Thames less than seventy-two hours later. None of you have found any evidence that she was anyone other than the information you already had on her. Am I correct?”
Everyone nodded, except Warren. “There is more to it than that. Just because we don't have evidence in terms of documentation doesn't mean it isn't true. Her alleged history did not give her the skills to execute the type of attack she perpetrated.”
“I understand that, but you have no evidence that she was affiliated with any organization, correct?” Dr. Marr inquired.
“No, we don't.” Warren didn't want to give up his informational advantage.
“Then moving on. That case is open and shut. The perpetrator is dead,” Zang Li, the representative from China, asserted. Zang was new to the game, but was under Ming's control, and Warren knew it. He was one of her puppets. There was little doubt in Warren's mind his lovely wife was one of Ming's girls. A middle aged man with thick glasses, with a movie star looking wife, it was a bit obvious.
“Fine, let's move on,” Warren huffed.
“The incident involving the first lady,” Dr. Marr gently announced. Warren leaned back and brought his hand to his face and rubbed his nose. He had to show a little emotion. “I know this is a tough topic for you, Mr. President. Are you ok for us to proceed?” Dr. Marr consoled.
“Yes, I want to discuss this.” Warren got choked up. “She deserves justice.”
Franklin was desperately trying to keep his composure. What an act. He deserves an Oscar for this one, he thought to himself. “I agree with President Warren; she deserves justice. For a first lady to be murdered in a such a brutal way is unheard of. The perpetrators must be caught and brought to justice,” Franklin felt he needed to add.
The Russian representative, Illiana Rusken, shifted a bit in her seat. She was nervous. She was out of place in this meeting. She was sent to make an appearance. Russia had no real interest in participating. Sergei would never allow them to admit anything or take any blame publicly.
Warren locked eyes on her. “We all know who is to blame.”
“I am not sure why you are looking at me. We had nothing to do with it. We cannot account for one knife,” Illiana snapped.
“Please. Don't be so naive; it was one of your agents. How many more do you have in my country?” Warren barked back.
“How dare you!” Illiana stood up, prepared to storm out.
“Tempers are high. Everyone needs to calm down, so we can discuss this rationally,” Dr. Marr interjected.
“This isn't a rational topic, and there is no way to do it. Until the actual perpetrators are caught, speculation and emotions will run these talks. So this is a waste of time,” Franklin added.
Dr. Marr was not pleased with Franklin's lack of confidence in her skills. “Mr. Prime Minister, the reason everyone is here is so we can sort this out. You all agreed to be here so that we can work together.”
“I'm sorry, but honestly, I don't think we will get anywhere. I am looking at representatives, not real power. I am talking to messengers. Both Mr. Franklin and I showed up. Where are your leaders?” Warren questioned.
Everyone was silent.
“Just like I thought. This meeting has no importance and is a waste of time. We will continue our investigation and find those responsible and bring them to justice.” Warren stood up.
Franklin stood up as well. “I am with Mr. Warren. We are leaving. When you can actually get the other leaders to a meeting, we will consider doing this again.”
Both Franklin and Warren stormed out, before Dr. Marr could even object.
“Well, that went well,” Franklin joked as the two made their way to the exit, where they knew the media would be waiting.
“Just wait for this. Let's start making things really ugly,” Warren joked back. Together, Warren and Franklin approached the awaiting media. The media was a bit taken back to see them so soon after the talks had started and had to scramble to get their cameras angled and microphones ready. As Warren stepped up to the edge of the first step, he stopped. The microphones were quickly thrust towards him. “This meeting was a sham. Prime Minister Franklin and I came to this meeting with the expectation that we would be meeting with heads of state. Instead, we were met by representatives. Why didn't they come? What do they have to hide? These questions are rattling around in my head, and I can only come to the conclusion that justice and the rights of all people are of little concern to them. William Drake, Paloma Barez, and my beautiful wife are dead, and there is no accountability. I expected more from these leaders in addressing these tragedies. I am disappointed and have lost faith in the process. However, I am committed to justice, and with the help and support of my dear friend, Prime Minister Franklin, we will see to it that these crimes do not go unpunished. We owe it to those we lost to prevent others from suffering as we have.”
The reporters flew into a flurry of questions; one question rose above the others, “So you think that William Drake's murderer has not been identified?”
This was the question Warren wanted. “Katrina Drake may have ended his life, but we do not believe she did so without orders. There are more players involved in William Drake's death than have been identified. We mean to find those who ordered his death. That is all I have to say about this. We will keep you updated as to our investigation.” Warren made his way down the stairs, past the sea of reporters, with Franklin by his side.
As the cameras were turned to the reporter recapping what had just happened, Sergei had had enough. He clicked the remote, turning off his television, and glanced at his nervous aides around him. “He is up to something. I want to know what, and I want to know now,” he ordered calmly. They all stood silently, each afraid to speak first. “Tell me one of you has found out something about what he has been up to. Have we found anything about those teams he had placed at the embassies? Have we identified all of them?”
“Yes sir,” a young aide replied, searching through his pile of files to find the right one.
Sergei's hand was already extended, waiting for it. His hand shaking, the aid placed it in his hand. Sergei flipped it open and laid the papers in front of him on his desk and scanned through the documents. By the time he got to the third document, he noticed a pattern. He quickly scanned through the rest of them. Sergei began to breath heavily as the numbers filled his head. “All but one is the same age. Within only three months of each other,” he whispered to himself. “There's no way. There's no way!” he shouted, throwing the papers off hi
s desk. “Where are they?!”
The young aide swallowed. “He pulled them from the embassies several weeks ago. They were spotted yesterday in Hawaii, boarding the USS Gerald Ford.”
“What do we know about the USS Ford?”
“Sir, it is scheduled to leave for training exercises in the Pacific Ocean tomorrow.”
Sergei's blood was boiling. “The hell it is. I want it sunk.”
“That would start all-out war,” Minister Zulean interjected, entering the room. Like Franklin and Warren, Zulean had been put in his position by Serei to be his voice in the Russian government. A loyal lapdog, Zulean would never truly stand up to Sergei. “I knew his statements would cause you some distress, but we cannot attack a US carrier without provocation.”
“War is necessary, and it will happen. We need to strike first. That carrier must go down.”
“What are you keeping from me? We have worked together for years. I know everything, but obviously, something new has come up or you wouldn't be jumping to sink a ship.”
“She's back, and she has the children. They are on that ship. They are coming for us,” Sergei calmly replied.
Minister Zulean felt himself almost begin to hyperventilate. “That's not possible.”
“Yes, it is, and you know it. We cannot risk it. The ship has to go down.”
Zulean nodded slightly.
“Prepare the planes. Once they are in range of the carrier, sink it,” Sergei ordered.
“Yes, sir,” Zulean replied.
As soon as he left the room, Sergei waved his aides out of room and grabbed his phone. He dialed. The phone rang twice then Ming answered. “Yes, my dear, what do you need?” she flirted.
“Obviously, you haven't been watching the news. You need to come here now. She is coming for you.”
Ming grinned on her end of the phone. “Then let her. I have been looking forward to a fight with her.”
“No, we need to collect ourselves here. We cannot take any chances. Bring your files on your girls and leave some lackeys there and get here with your best, now.”
Jasmine (Teumessian Trilogy Book 3) Page 8