The Ancient Breed

by David Brookover

  “You’re not saying that Lisa is . . .”

  “Gabriella?” Nick finished.

  “No way,” Crow objected.

  “Maybe Lisa’s a witch, too,” Neo reasoned.

  “I don’t think so, and I’m pretty sure I can prove it. C’mon, guys, get me to a phone.”

  Nick placed a call to Florida State University after Jill found a change of clothes for him in the living quarters down the hall. He asked the university operator for Professor Anders’s phone extension. The operator connected him immediately, and he listened to the strident rings.

  Nick watched Blossom and Jill place antiseptic gauze on what was left of Hanover’s face after the skin finally solidified. Nick couldn’t resist a brief smile. The self-centered coward got what was coming to him.

  On the tenth ring, a man answered.

  “Professor Anders’s office,” he said gruffly.

  “May I speak with Lisa?” Nick asked.

  “Not for another two months,” the man replied.

  “Oh? That long?”

  “She’s still on her six-month research sabbatical south of Germany.”

  “And she hasn’t returned home in that time for any reason?”

  “Hey, are you a cop?”

  Nick laughed. “No, just an old high school friend. Boyfriend, actually.”

  “Well, your best chance to reach her will be around the first of October,” the man offered.

  Nick hung up the phone and related his conversation. Jill scooted close to Nick and hooked his arm.

  “So where to now?” she asked coyly.

  “Oh no, I’m not telling you guys everything.”

  “Can we cut the crap and get me back to the White House?” Hanover grumbled beneath the gauze strips.

  Neo approached the pompous president. “Oh, the stories we could tell, Mister President, about your bravery. Geronimo recorded you in your all your whiny glory, and you know, I think we’ll release a copy of that video to the press. Think what your opponent’s campaign team could do with that kind of ammunition in the next election.”

  “What is this, blackmail?” His sputtering voice was muffled.

  Neo silently surveyed the others before responding. “Yes, I think that’s exactly what it is.”

  “You won’t get away with this! I’ll never agree to give you one red cent!”

  “Geronimo, roll the surveillance tapes,” Crow ordered.

  “Wait, wait!”

  “Thank God, it’s in color so we can see your yellow streak,” Crow added.

  Hanover’s chin sank, and he groaned. “You win. What do you guys want from me?”

  They told him.

  The wildflowers swayed in the fragrant breeze beside Lake Griffin as hundreds of lightning bugs blinked their taillights in the woods. Tractors in the distant fields headed toward the barns after a full day of mowing hay, grass, and clover. Roosters with bad senses of timing crowed as the sun reached twilight hour behind the rolling emerald hillsides. The lake lapped at the shoreline and disturbed the minnow schools.

  Nick strode down the stone walkway from the Wolfe mansion to the lake. He somehow knew he’d find her there, near the lakeshore where they had made love for the first and only time. If Gabriella was anywhere in this dimension, she would be there, waiting for him. He hoped . . .

  Nick’s beautiful witch didn’t disappoint him. He glimpsed her white-blonde hair above the shrubbery, glimmering in the low sun. He quickened his pace, and when he rounded the corner by the lake, he spied her diaphanous, white dress that outlined her beguiling body. Gabriella’s entire face burst into a passionate smile as she rushed to embrace him.

  “I’m so sorry for the deception,” Gabriella whispered, probing his ear with her moist tongue. “The Kundze elders agreed to shorten my exile on three conditions – one, I couldn’t go back as myself. I had to take the form of another human; so I searched for an appropriate identity and came up with Lisa Anders. She was well acquainted with Blossom Smith, who happened to be on vacation down in Florida where I needed to be. You see, the elders sent me back here on a mission to protect Alick Tobhor. Our spies had informed them that the three traitorous destroyers who had kidnapped poor Alick over four thousand years ago were about to make their move for the elixir. Since Blossom was an archeologist working close to Alick’s fortress, it was a natural. So I transformed myself into Lisa Anders.

  “Pretty devious, if you ask me.”

  “I know, but it couldn’t be helped. And besides, I knew sooner or later that you’d be drawn into the destroyers’ treachery, so I would already be positioned to work with you. I really liked that part,” she explained. “But things sure didn’t work out as I’d planned.” Gabriella pecked him on the cheek.

  “Plans have a way of getting complicated all by themselves.”

  She nodded. “Live and burn.”

  “Amen. You said there were other conditions.”

  “Right. The second attached string was that I couldn’t tell you that I was really Lisa. That was the hardest part - being so close to you and watching you fall for Lisa Anders - and not being able to do a thing about it.”

  “That was cruel,” he agreed. “And unfair.”

  “I’ll make it up to,” she said seductively. “Last, the elders made me promise to only use my magic power of teleportation. Nothing else - not even to save your life.” Tears welled in the corners of her eyes. “If anything had happened to you, I wouldn’t have wanted to live.”

  Nick drew her close. “Well, it didn’t come to that. It’s over and done with, Gabriella.”

  Suddenly, she pushed him back. “And just what were you thinking when you made love to Lisa!”

  Nick chuckled at her emotional turnabout. “Hey, I fell in love with both of you, didn’t I? The key word being you. I told you that you were irresistible.”

  She planted her hands on her slight hips. “You never told me that.”

  He smiled. “Well, I’m saying it now. You’re irresistible; and I guess I somehow saw right through your other identity.”

  “And I love you for that.”

  He frowned. “But can you love me now that you know what kind of monster I can be?”

  The breeze mussed her long hair. “Oh Nick, I’ve known about that since we were kids.”

  He was stunned. “How could you possibly know that?” he asked skeptically.

  “Adults talk quietly, and kids eavesdrop. I overheard my mother and Glenna say that the island scientists were excited that both you and Thomas could change into super-soldiers. But unlike Thomas, you were difficult for them to coax into the transformation. That’s why your father wanted to kill you. You were too unpredictable and too . . . what did they say?” She paused. “Oh yes, I remember now. You were too righteous.” She embraced him again. “You’re a decent, caring man, Nick Bellamy. Thomas was a psychopath. So it’s obvious that you don’t share all his genes.”

  “Well, I only . . .”

  Gabriella lightly laid a finger to his lips. “We’ve talked enough. I think there are more pleasant ways we can celebrate our reunion, don’t you?”

  He stared into her translucent indigo eyes, and his concerns melted away. She slipped off her dress and hurriedly undressed him.

  There was just one more question he needed answered. “Are you really back - for good?”

  Gabriella playfully allowed his jeans to fall to his ankles, and then she yanked them out from under him, sending them both rolling to the ground. She landed on top and placed her face close to his. Her breath was warm and sweet and immediately aroused him.

  “Looks like your real monster is ready to play,” she giggled.

  He gripped her shoulders softly. “Please, answer the question.”

  She rolled off him and propped her head on her crooked arm. “Okay, I’ll talk, Agent Bellamy,” she said, pretending to pout. “You FBI types are all alike. All work and no play.”

  “Gabriella, you’re dodging the question.”
/>
  “I am, aren’t I?”

  He rolled onto her erotic flesh and tried to maintain his serious pretense, but he burst into laughter. “C’mon, Gabriella.”

  “You really want to know whether I’m back for good?”

  “More than anything I ever wanted.”

  “Besides me, right?” she grinned.

  “Besides you.”

  She brushed his ash-blonde hair from his forehead. “Then here’s your answer, darling. I’m back - for better or worse, richer or poorer . . .”

  Gabriella couldn’t complete her answer, because her lips were smothered with his kisses.

  Epilogue

  N

  ick scanned his Orion Sector office in the J. Edgar Hoover Building for the last time. A myriad of memories flashed through his mind like an MTV video. Reflections of the many national security crises that had been resolved from that office, his fellow agents who had become unfortunate casualties, and the lively victory celebrations after a tough case had been closed. He sighed. Part of him was going to miss the place. A small part.

  During Nick’s previous meeting with Shelton Hanover in Rance’s office, the president had treated him with contempt; but after Orion Sector had saved him from the Cumalodins and the shape-shifter, Nick, Neo, and Crow became Hanover’s fair-haired boys. No one, other than the survivors inside the Old Mother Hubbard’s computer center, knew the truth behind the president’s sudden change of heart, including Rance. There were rumors, of course, but they died quickly, because those in Washington circles feared political backlash from the popular Hanover.

  NNC Consultants, a new player on the national security industry scene, was awarded a ninety-nine year government lease on the Old Mother Hubbard’s facility for a mere dollar, and after that lease expired, NNC Consultants became the sole owners of the property. Included in that agreement, NNC purchased Geronimo and all accompanying technological patents for an undisclosed price.

  Additionally, the Department of Homeland Security granted NNC a multi-year consulting contract. Hanover’s political opponents threatened to instigate a Congressional investigation into this favorable treatment, but somehow their opposition was quietly quelled. So, NNC Consultants, the security company that seemingly sprang from nowhere, suddenly wielded the power of an eight-hundred-pound gorilla in Washington’s political arena.

  Nick chuckled silently. At first, Hanover angrily accused them of blackmail; but Nick, Neo, and Crow merely considered their actions to be astute business negotiations. As part of their mutual agreement, Hanover’s international popularity received a boost when he claimed that his temporary disappearance was all part of his plan to thwart the Aspirations, Incorporated scheme to dominate the world’s governments.

  In the days that followed, Rance Osborne’s special FBI sting operation uncovered Vice President Donaldson’s involvement with the Aspirations plot, but Donaldson committed suicide rather than have his family endure the disgrace of a national scandal. Publicly, Hanover claimed that Donaldson was deeply depressed ever since his doctors told him that he had inoperable brain cancer and had less than a year to live.

  In early October, Rance quietly dismantled Orion Sector and mainstreamed its remaining agents into other FBI departments. It was heralded as a brilliant cost-cutting move, but in truth, Rance was unwilling to turn over the reins of his investigative baby to an outsider. He, Nick, Neo, and Crow had been on the ground floor when Orion Sector became a reality, and now that his original trio of agents had resigned, Orion Sector was, to Rance’s way of thinking, officially defunct.

  Nick retrieved a pen from his pocket and signed the lone document lying on his desk. It was his final act as Director of Orion Sector. The document officially designated the three hundred acres encompassing Alick Tobhor’s fortress and the alien’s unnamed lake as a top-secret, government domain. Trespassers would be subject to federal prosecution, and the United States Army would be responsible for its security. Never would anyone but wind walkers and teleporters set foot in Alick’s fortress again. His fountain of youth was safely tucked away from the world’s zealots.

  As Nick replaced the pen in his shirt pocket, the phone buzzed.

  “Bellamy,” he answered.

  “Hi, Nick.” It was the voice of a subdued Rance Osborne.

  “Hey, Rance, what can I do for you?”

  “Humor this old man by letting me give you a ride to the airport.”

  Nick glanced at his watch; it was just after nine in the morning, and his flight left at noon.

  “For old time’s sake,” Rance added.

  “Sure. Where are you now?”

  “In my limousine out front.”

  “I’ll be right down.”

  Nick had forsaken teleportation, so he rode the elevator down to the lobby. He’d endured enough magic to last a lifetime except where Gabriella was concerned. It was an integral part of her life, and he couldn’t ask her to forsake it for him.

  During the ride down, his thoughts drifted to the problem that had kept him out of circulation for a long time. He hated the beast that resided inside him. After all was said and done, he was merely another mutant born of the Mortal Eclipse project so long ago, and it had depressed him for months. His prolonged despondency led to a self-imposed seclusion once the NNC corporate papers were filed, and the government negotiations concerning the property deeding, the procurement of Geronimo, and the hefty contract with Homeland Security were completed. With the unwavering support of Gabriella and his two best friends, Nick recently rejoined the human race. He was flying to Columbus, Ohio that afternoon, renting a car, and driving the remaining distance to Duneden. His home.

  It was Christmas Eve, but Nick felt no joy. He still had doubts about his status with his two friends. What did they secretly think of him? Were they afraid of him? But why wouldn’t they be afraid? Even he was frightened of the monster lurking inside him. He was very concerned that it could strike at any time and hurt someone close to him.

  Nick stepped outside with his carry-on bag slung over his shoulder and saw Rance’s black limousine immediately. He turned up his collar. Swirling snow flurries rode the brisk December wind and nipped at his face as he approached the car. His frosty breath drifted into the chilly air like gyrating smoke signals.

  The driver opened the back door, and Nick ducked inside. Rance was impeccably dressed in a black cashmere overcoat, gray pinstriped suit, heavily starched white shirt, and an appropriately conservative tie.

  They rode in silence for a while before Rance finally turned to his old friend.

  “I’m sorry it had to come to this,” he said sadly. “Even though I understand your reasons for leaving, I just want you to know that politics is the wave of the future for this country’s intelligence agencies. The main reason that I’m sticking around is to prevent as many politicians as I can from diluting our effectiveness with their campaign rhetoric - tying our hands behind our backs and then disparaging our efforts as incompetent whenever a terrorist strike occurs on our soil.

  “I still have enough power and credibility in Washington to keep most of those wolves at bay, but it’s going to be tricky.” He sighed heavily. “Washington has become a town of smoke and mirrors. Perception is more real than reality to them.”

  “Terrorism is real. Those damn demons and aliens are real, too,” Nick countered.

  Rance simply nodded. “The politicians live in a fishbowl, looking out. Nothing is real to them except election poll points and self-gratification.”

  “That’s not my world. I’m a pragmatist,” Nick claimed, disgust tainting his tone. “And so are the majority of citizens in this country. They deal with reality every day. I’m through with Washington. I’m in this for the people, and always have been.”

  “I understand and I’m glad, in a way. With you, Neo, and Crow beyond Washington’s scrutiny, you could be even more valuable to me.”

  Nick studied him suspiciously. “Okay, what’s going on in that shrewd mind of
yours, Rance?”

  He smiled. “Just this – your new enterprise could handle some investigative work for me as a private vendor,” he explained. “No politics. No press. Just my full backing. What do you say?”

  “I say it’s Christmas Eve, and I’ll think about it after the first of the new year,” Nick replied.

  The limousine rolled to a stop at the curb in front of Nick’s airline terminal. The two men shook hands as the driver opened the door and took Nick’s carry-on.

  “Merry Christmas,” Nick said, as he climbed from the limo.

  “Merry Christmas. Give my best to Neo, Crow, and Gabriella.”

  “I will.”

  “And call me after the first. I have a couple of things brewing that I could use NNC Consultants’ help with,” he shouted after Nick.

  Nick nodded and entered the terminal.

  As the commercial airliner descended over Columbus, Nick glanced out the window. The rolling, snow-covered country south of the airport resembled marshmallow fields. He smiled despite his dour mood. In two hours, he’d be home. Home for Christmas. The phrase suddenly had a warm and comforting ring to it.

  But, would he be welcome? The same nagging doubt surfaced. Time would tell.

  Duneden was transformed into a spectacular winter wonderland. The low clouds silently sprinkled plump, vanilla flakes on the rooftops, roads, and lawns of the small community. Tapered, crystalline icicles clung to bottoms of tree limbs, windowsills, and eaves troughs, nature’s contributions to the holiday season.

  Nick guided his blue SUV between the open gates of the Wolfe estate and parked along the circular drive in front of the mansion. A recent snowplowing had created a glistening stockade along the brick pavement. Nick grabbed his carry-on and rushed through the falling snow to the porch. The door was flung open, and Gabriella launched her lithe frame into his arms.

  “It’s been so long,” she whispered into his ear. “I’ve missed you, Nick.”

  When she released him, he felt his heavy heart lighten. He admired her luminous, snow-blonde hair that spilled across her shoulders and breasts, with wind-whipped wisps dancing in the shadow of cleavage displayed in the low neckline of her evening dress. The features of her oval face were delicately carved from a pearl complexion, and the brisk December air painted a blush on her cheeks. She seized his arm and led him inside.