by SY Thompson
She engaged the autopilot now that they were on course, reached over, and grasped the saddlebags from where Sidney had laid them earlier. Ronan pulled her laptop out and sat it on the copilot’s seat to boot up. It was one of the purchases made after arriving in this century, a necessary expense since a futuristic version wasn’t compatible with the software of this century. It seemed to take an eternity for the infernal thing to boot, but finally it was ready and Ronan slipped the disc they had discovered into it.
At first, she wasn’t sure what she was reading. It looked like a simple list of names. Most of them were names of people in the current government’s cabinet and she couldn’t understand what possible significance they could have with the conspiracy against Sidney Weaver. Then she scrolled to the bottom and things became abundantly clear.
For a while, Ronan just stared into the darkened night through the windscreen and planned what their next move would be.
Chapter Eleven
SIDNEY TOSSED AND turned on the bed in the rear of the plane. There was so much to absorb that she didn’t know if she could take it all in. She wasn’t even sure that she believed half of it. Roger trying to kill her? It seemed outlandish, but she had no reason to believe that Ronan would lie, either. In fact, she trusted her more than she trusted anyone ever before.
Then there was the stalker. She had told Roger about the man during their divorce. He became angry and accused her of sensationalism to prevent their separation, but his emotion had seemed forced. It was almost as if he was playing a part, and playing it badly. She wondered if he’d known about the man in advance, perhaps even hired him to terrorize her. If he’d been as desperate as Ronan insinuated it was certainly possible.
Thoughts of Ronan made Sidney consider what she’d said. If she was being truthful, Ronan had given up everything for her. It didn’t make sense someone would do that for a perfect stranger. Sidney allowed the possibility that Ronan possessed a driving urge to protect someone, anyone, from a tragic destiny. Her logical side told her Ronan’s motives were more involved. Ronan saw death all the time and it was unlikely Sidney was anyone special.
The care and concern Ronan had shown for Sidney’s safety certainly insinuated there was a deeper meaning. Her thoughts naturally progressed to the kiss at the estate. Men had kissed her before, but they didn’t compare to Ronan’s gentle touch. Sidney couldn’t ever remember clinging to someone as she had to Ronan then and she hadn’t wanted it to end.
Finally, she admitted that she had more questions than answers and that sleep would be impossible. Sidney flung back the light coverlet and stood up. She walked out to the small galley to make some fresh coffee and wondered if Ronan would like something. By her count, neither of them had eaten anything in quite some time. A lopsided grin curled her lips when she realized that she could do something for Ronan. It wasn’t exactly saving her life, but it would make Sidney feel better if she could contribute something toward Ronan’s welfare. From the look of her, she tended to neglect her nutritional needs.
A few minutes later, Sidney entered the cockpit bearing a loaded tray.
“Where are we?” she asked casually and handed Ronan a plate. She eased into the seat beside Ronan and strapped on her seatbelt out of habit.
Ronan took the offered turkey sandwich and bit into it eagerly. She chewed for a few moments before she answered. Sidney was amused at the exuberance shown for the food.
“Just nearing the Florida Everglades,” Ronan mumbled around a mouthful. “Thank you for this, I’m starving.”
Sidney frowned and sipped her beverage. “You never did tell me how you managed to file a flight plan so quickly.”
“I have my ways.” Ronan added a wink, letting Sidney know she was deliberately being evasive. Sidney only rolled her eyes.
Suddenly, the jet shuddered. Smoke belched out of the engine compartment and red lights began to blink alarmingly on the control panel. Ronan tossed her plate aside, most of it landing in Sidney’s lap, and grasped tightly to the wheel.
“What’s happening?” Sidney yelled and flung her cup toward the rear compartment. A large brown stain spread down the front of her shirt.
“We’re losing fuel and hydraulics,” Ronan shouted, fighting the controls.
Sidney gritted her teeth against the sudden nausea generated when they dropped a hundred feet all at once. She fumbled with her harness, making sure it was properly buckled.
“I thought you checked everything.”
The image of the plane with an open engine cover crossed Sidney’s mind and she realized someone must have tinkered with the vessel while Ronan was off chasing her. She should have pointed it out when they got back to the hangar, but recent events had shaken her so badly that she didn’t consider it. Regardless, this was all her fault. If Sidney hadn’t taken off, no one would have gotten close enough to sabotage the plane.
“I did.”
The Nordic features looked even paler in the crimson illumination of emergency lights. “I can’t hold it. We’re going to have to try and set down somewhere before we run out of fuel completely.”
Sidney felt it when Ronan reduced air speed and began the difficult job of trying to land with mostly frozen controls. The Falcon was not about to cooperate. It shuddered and bucked like a wild animal trying to escape. Fear was a bitter taste in Sidney’s mouth as she watched Ronan struggle with the wheel.
Finally, they broke through the clouds into the middle of a thunderstorm. Lightning streaked the sky and thunder boomed all around them.
“This just keeps getting better and better.”
“Why do I get the feeling that the universe is testing me today?”
Sidney followed Ronan’s gaze and saw a blinking red fuel light. “What do we do now?”
Her fingers felt like they were becoming part of the upholstery since she held so tightly to the chair arms, but she couldn’t even think about letting go.
“We are going to land.”
Ronan almost sounded confidant and reassuring, trying to convince Sidney that everything would be fine. It didn’t work.
“Where the hell are we going to land in the Everglades?”
“Look for a clearing.”
“A clearing? We need a landing strip, not a break in the trees!”
The Falcon, by design, could use a shorter runway than most jets but a clearing would never be large enough. Unfortunately, they were seriously out of options. Fear shot through her again when the small craft suddenly plummeted several hundred feet. The jungle rushed toward them at breakneck speed. Sidney’s stomach flip-flopped when the bottom of the Falcon started to scrape the tops of the trees. She knew Ronan could barely see through the rain and fog. Her eyes were squinted and she leaned far forward in the seat.
A flash of lightning abruptly lit up the night and Sidney spotted a narrow trail directly ahead of them. It wasn’t wide, but she hoped it would suffice.
“There.”
Ronan angled the craft down, to line up on the slightly curving trail and Sidney prayed the controls wouldn’t freeze completely.
The Falcon lurched when it hit the muddy ground, before it skidded left and took out a row of saplings with the wing. For a moment, she thought they would make it down in one piece, and then the right wing hit a massive cypress and ripped away from the body of the plane with a shriek of shredded metal. The impact jerked the craft sideways, straight toward a row of smaller trees.
“Hold on!” Ronan shouted.
Sidney threw her arms up to shield her face and felt the resistance when Ronan pressed down hard on the dual brake pedals.
The shouted warning was the last thing she heard before they hit a tree dead on. Then it uprooted and crashed through the windshield, branches striking her repeatedly. It was a bit of relief when the darkness claimed her.
Chapter Twelve
“HE FAILED.” THE gruff voice sounded angry over the crude telephone connection.
The recipient of the call was equally irked and he stuffed
his free hand into the pocket of his pinstriped trousers. Angstrom’s first impulse had been to fling the telephone against the wall and thought perhaps he had been among these primitive Americans for too long.
“How?”
He saw his reflection in a picture that was hanging on the wall. In his ire, his features had rippled slightly and he brought his emotions under control with effort.
There, that’s better, he thought and looked at the dark hair that showed just a touch of gray at the temples. The Black Guard, secret enforcers of the Regime, wouldn’t be happy to know about his momentary lapse in concentration. Disturbed at his lack of control he focused on the call.
“The pilot showed up,” Sullivan reported. “Somehow, though, I suspect she’s more than just an air jockey. She may be a bodyguard. All I know is that she was right behind Brannon when he went into the house. They weren’t in there more than a few minutes before he jumped out the second story window. We picked him up a few minutes later and I had the other team take him back to the asylum. What are your orders now?”
Angstrom was furious that the assassin had failed. It had taken months to find someone whose psyche was weak enough for the hypnotic suggestion to work. After that, the Guard set their guinea pig free to go after Weaver. Fortunately, there were enough alternates now. They’d been looking for replacements ever since they created their first subject.
Government asylums here in the 21st century overflowed with former Navy Seals, Marine Recon, and Army Ranger personnel that had suffered various breakdowns over the years. They possessed just the right combination of loyalty and combat skills to serve the Regime effectively.
“Sir,” Sullivan prompted into the silence.
“They’ll try to go to ground somewhere. We need to stop them before that happens. How did the bodyguard get there?”
“She showed up on a motorcycle. They took off before the police arrived.”
“Good. I’ll have the team in Brooklyn Park plant a tracker on the plane as well as a small explosive. It won’t be enough to destroy the craft and, if this pilot is as skilled as you say, she should be able to bring it down in one piece.”
“I thought you wanted her dead.”
The disappointment and disbelief in his voice was obvious. Sullivan had a taste for blood. Angstrom thought he’d hung around at the Rock Hall estate hoping to see blood. He didn’t care how Sullivan got his thrills but the comment irritated Angstrom and he barely refrained from snapping at the hired thug.
“I did, but Brannon failed, didn’t he? Now, I’d like to find out what Weaver knows and if she’s shared that information with anyone else. Get to the airfield. A helicopter will be standing by. I want you to follow them and move in when the plane goes down. Bring Weaver back to me unharmed. The pilot is expendable. Do with her what you will.”
Angstrom was utilizing too many resources just to track down the actress but wasn’t overly concerned. The agents were as expendable as Weaver’s pilot and didn’t know the true reason behind killing Sidney Weaver. They were told she was a double agent, having ties with North Korea, and dangerous to the United States. The patriotic agents had asked no questions, responding in a way they probably considered heroic to their government’s need. For this reason, he felt that his final plan would be successful.
He’d just hung up when there was a sharp knock on the door. Supreme Court Chief Justice Barnhart walked in before Angstrom invited him. He wasn’t really a chief justice; he wasn’t even from this era. Barnhart was an impersonator, just as Angstrom was.
Swallowing his wrath at the botched murder, Angstrom tried to act casual with his Guard commander. “Any word from the fleet?”
Barnhart quietly walked around Angstrom’s desk, where he picked up the apple that sat on the corner. He wiped it on his sleeve before he bit into the fruit, the juice visible where his lips rested on the skin. Angstrom waited, trying to appear patient since he knew full well the judge heard him. He stood up straight and bore the scrutiny of a superior he knew didn’t think much of his abilities. Fortunately, the Delegator in charge of all of them disagreed with Barnhart’s assessment. If not for her, Barnhart would have eliminated Angstrom long ago.
The judge took only the single bite from the apple and sat it back on the desk. “They are holding position until we signal that we are ready. When will that be?”
Angstrom got the feeling he was being tested. He shrugged nonchalantly. “Once I’ve been sworn in as this country’s president we can begin replacing other key individuals. It shouldn’t be much longer before we can determine that the citizens from the future are undetectable to the Americans. We’re still not sure if the cloaks developed in the future give off low enough energy signatures, but I’m confident that Phase Two can begin shortly after that. I don’t think it will take more than a year to begin a full-scale replacement.”
The Regime’s discovery of Professor Horton’s machine allowed them to send people into the past to correct the course of the future. Detective Lee had unknowingly helped them pinpoint this era by leaving the coordinates on the control panel. Research into her activities told them why Lee was here and highlighted Sidney Weaver’s importance to the Regime’s future. Now, they concentrated on setting key players into positions of power. Angstrom was impatient to have the entire Black Guard on the continent. Having them in place would ensure reinforcements when the time arrived. Just as important as having the Guard agents on station, Angstrom thought it more imperative that they move slowly in actually replacing politicians. There were no more than fifty thousand agents to take advantage of the economic crisis and political unrest that existed here and now to alter history.
“We have already been in America for two years. How much longer must we wait to conquer these weaklings?” Barnhart asked.
“Until Imperial Leader Odon is ready, I suppose. What does she think of my plan so far?” Angstrom wanted the Delegator on his side. If she was, he would take advantage of that favor as soon as possible by eliminating the mean little rodent that stood in front of him now.
Barnhart sat in the chair behind the massive oak desk. “You and I are expendable,” he said rather than answer directly. “By gaining the trust of these people and occupying key positions, she will consider replacing them on a larger scale.”
Barnhart routinely showed he felt direct confrontation was ill advised, proving to Angstrom that he was a coward. Angstrom had conceived a devious plan for the government’s infiltration. He hadn’t wanted to share it with Barnhart, but had no choice. The judge had Odon’s ear for the time being. Unless Angstrom gained the support of his direct supervisor, his plan would never reach the Neue Konservative government.
“I’ve been researching the history of this country and I think I’ve found a way to annihilate this form of government without drawing too much attention,” Angstrom said. “But we must move slowly and carefully once we have our people in place.”
“Ah, that is why you are so eager for the rest of the Guard to arrive, to implement this plan of yours. Tell me of it, then. How can we replace hundreds of key politicians in this country, and incidentally that of the Fatherland, without arousing suspicion?”
“You are aware of the world conflict that took place eighty years before now? They called it World War II. During that time a visionary named Adolph Hitler came to power in Germany.”
“I remember reading about it,” Barnhart nodded. “Through his determination he led his people out of a great economic depression and made them one of the leading super powers in this world, at least for a short time. If I remember correctly he was defeated.”
“Yes, it’s true. But we would be more cautious.”
“Continue,” Barnhart ordered. “How would we succeed where he failed?”
Angstrom had to outline all of the key points of the historical figure’s previous ideals that closely followed the new conservative beliefs of the Regime before he could answer that question.
“One thing Hitler wo
uld not abide was what he called the degenerate races. In our case, the degenerate races are the capitalist free thinkers of this era. Unfortunately, we will need their assistance if our plan is to succeed, but we can follow his example to eliminate most of our major adversaries.”
He saw he had the squatty official’s attention and warmed to his subject. “To him anyone not of pure blood, specifically anyone not of German descent, was exterminated. He killed millions of people in his death camps using every means at his disposal.”
“Surely you can’t be suggesting we do the same? From what I have seen since our arrival, these barbarians are disturbingly tolerant of almost any behavior. How would you prevent an uprising and our own defeat? I believe you are being too ambitious.”
Now came the part where Angstrom had to present an argument the other man would accept and take to Odon. “You’re right, of course,” he said in a smarmy attempt to ingratiate himself, pleased when the commander puffed up in ignorant pride.
“The world would not tolerate Hitler’s activities and rose up to resist him. In the end, he was defeated. But his ideals had merit and are still alive today, even if no one speaks of it.”
“Explain. How does this fit in with transforming this era of government?” Barnhart demanded.
“No matter what these people say, they are as prejudiced as Adolph Hitler. They cover it by spouting platitudes and enacting laws meant to protect the minorities. Hitler was just more honest about it. Now, here is the gist of my plan. First, we must replace all of the leaders of this country and Germany. After that occurs, other key officials in the cabinets of each world government will follow. We’ll enact laws over a period of time that will give total power to those officials. The voters won’t even know what they’re approving until it is too late.”
“And if they find out?”
Angstrom snorted in disgust. “The path is set already. This country alone has enacted a Patriot Act that opens the door. Every bit of technology they develop is another tool to facilitate conquest. For example, did you realize that cellular phones have a chip inside that can triangulate their position from the satellites in orbit around this planet? If the phone is on, it’s easy enough to pinpoint from space. They don’t even know what they’re doing to themselves. Then there’s the Homeland Security department. People disappear through their doors every day and are never heard from again.”