by Luis, C. S
The other two men in black suits glanced over at the man in blue, and although they liked to voice their opinions regarding his procedures, they dared not say anything as the troops disappeared into the dark entrance and were lost within its confinements. The man in blue was in command, and they knew it.
Inside, was a long stretch of hallway cluttered with old school textbooks, empty desks, and papers and trash soiling the floor. The troops moved down the dark corridor, checking each approaching room one by one, sounding the ‘all clear’ as they did, and then moving on to the next hallway. Debris and signs of a place once alive with the sounds of children filled the empty hallways. Oddly enough, there seemed to be the echo of such a life still throbbing within its walls.
"Sir, we're approaching the foot of the staircase leading up to the second floor." The staff sergeant’s voice echoed through the earpiece.
The man in blue stood at alert, the smile on his face spread as he moved forward; yet he dared not enter. The men in black glanced in his direction, wondering whether he would risk entering without a team and if they would be forced to follow.
"Proceed to the second floor,” the man in blue ordered.
"Copy that. Proceeding to the second level." The staff sergeant responded and signaled the team forward.
An occasional movement distracted the oppressing silence. Another room cleared and far ahead the hall stretched as the team moved in two lines on each side of the hallway, assault rifles drawn, shoulders up, and faces concealed by military gear. They moved through the darkness, their night vision scope on their masked faces, led only by a single electric compass guiding the way.
"We're approaching the second-floor hallway now…we're getting signs of activity coming from the end of the hall. Advice?" The staff sergeant asked.
"Proceed with caution,” the man in blue answered. He glanced towards the open window, through the darkness of the building from the outside where he stood; he could distinguish the squad's searchlights.
He moved forward, aware that the men behind him were wary of his advances.
"Wait for them to make contact," one of them voiced. He glared back at them, nearly growling angrily as if he dared dart in after them. That would be suicidal. Besides, he knew the procedures; this wasn’t his first mission, which is why they had called on him to lead the project.
Nevertheless, he stared at the entrance and then up towards the window. The lights inside moved very slowly and faded deeper into the building where they were hardly visible.
"We've reached the location,” the staff sergeant said.
“Where are you?”
“Outside a classroom.”
"Continue with caution,” the man in blue ordered.
"Copy that. Entering now."
The teamed moved as the staff sergeant led them towards the entrance of the classroom. It was an ordinary classroom filled with children's desks. On the wall was a chalkboard riddled with writing scribbles, and a teacher's desk sat at the far end of the classroom. Papers and a few textbooks scattered the floor.
“Sergeant, do you see anything?” the man in blue yelled through the earpiece.
“Corporal, what do you see?” the staff sergeant asked.
“Not sure, sergeant. The readings are way off. They’re everywhere. I can’t get a clear reading.”
“Are you sure you’re reading that thing right?” a fellow trooper snapped.
“They seem to be all over the place,” the corporal answered.
The staff sergeant grabbed the scope, and he seemed to be just as confused when he glared down at the machine, examining it as if it were some kind of foreign instrument.
“What? This can’t be right,” he uttered under his breath.
“Come in, sergeant. Have you reached the target?” the man in blue impatiently asked.
“Securing location. Standby.”
“Don’t tell me to standby! Report at once. What do you see?” the man in blue yelled, lowering his voice only when his comrades gazed at him doubtfully. They no doubt questioned his leadership, and he wanted to erase all their doubts at any cost before they had a chance to discredit him with their leaders.
“Nothing, Sir. We see nothing,” the sergeant responded.
“Nothing? Have you lost the target? Is that what you’re trying to tell me, sergeant?”
“Negative, Sir,” the staff sergeant firmly stated.
“Then what is the problem?”
“There seems to be a problem with the equipment, Sir. There—” The connection failed, and the sound of the staff sergeant’s voice became distorted by static and other unnatural elements.
The man in blue knew the dance like a nasty nightmare he had repeated so many times before. It was a script that couldn’t be changed, and even then, he was never prepared for it once he realized it was happening. He made an attempt to say something, but the words would not come out of his mouth. And if they did, it made no difference.
“Wait, I think I see something," one of the men suddenly said as the team glanced around the section of the classroom.
“Sergeant, get your team out of there at once! That’s an order!" the man in blue growled into the receiver in a panic. The others came within steps of him.
“What are you doing? Our orders are to obtain the target at any cost,” the men in black scolded as he swung around to face them.
“But they’re walking into a trap,” he growled.
“Any cost,” one of the men in black hissed. The man in blue took a deep breath and spun around, lifting his head towards the dark windows of the building.
He moved forward only to stop inches from the entrance. The other suits would not budge; they were either too frightened or too smart to venture upstairs into the building.
Above, inside the building, the scope in the corporal’s hand cleared, and a single indicator in red appeared on the green screen. He looked toward the dark corner of the room, near the chalkboard; on its cold, dark wall, a single scratch began before a face appeared on the cold surface. The soldier’s eyes became large, and he dropped the scope.
Static drowned the radio waves before it went dead. From above, the man in blue heard screams, and then suddenly, a wave of distorted sounds jammed the radio waves as it came to life again.
The man in blue looked up. A halo of bullets showered the window, scattering glass onto the pavement below. A loud shriek exploded through the earpiece, and he tossed it to the ground. They slowly moved back towards the car, taking a radio and an assault rifle from the inside of the vehicle. The man in blue watched the building carefully as the final sound of gunfire seized and everything became still.
"Report!" One of the men in black yelled into the radio. The man in blue hushed him frightfully, taking it from his hand and listening to the silence and static at the other end.
And in the deaf stillness, he heard it, or so he swore, its voice whispering a truth he'd heard before. But as to whom it meant, the man in blue wondered even now, “My pet…” it hissed, but he couldn’t make the rest out.
Suddenly, in a thunderous roar, a shadowy figure shot from the building rooftop, scattering debris down below. The man in blue jumped to the side as a body came crashing down upon the hood of the black SUV. The men in black leaped to the ground as glass scattered everywhere. They lifted their heads to the sky in search of the creature.
The man in blue rose to his feet, dusting off his suit. He too watched the skies now as he retrieved his glasses from the pocket of his coat. But just as the others behind him were aware, it was gone for now.
3
The Belle’s Ring
August 2012 Present day…
* * *
The plane landed in Houston, Texas. Father said he and Mother would be there waiting for me at the airport. I thought it was strange, but my father had always done things his way, and I never questioned his methods. My father was very educated, and he knew very well what he was doing. He had never failed in that, and he p
roved it many times before. So I learned at a very early age never to question his ways.
I collected my bags from the baggage claim and made my way to the entrance of the airport. I could already imagine my parents’ faces waiting for me, but when I finally came outside with the rest of the passengers, I only saw a few vehicles picking up friends and family. I figured Father had rented a vehicle and was now coming back around after being asked to move the car. The sign on the post read “No parking at any time”.
I could picture him in the back of an SUV, driving up to greet me. I sat waiting and waiting until a Lincoln with dark tinted windows pulled up. I must have looked pitiful just sitting there waiting like an abandoned child. I looked up as the door slowly opened. I wondered if it was my father, even though he hated American cars.
Father said we had relatives in the space city. I didn't know what he meant. As far as I knew, we had no other family. My parents were both adopted.
I stood up as the door opened further, and a man wearing a black suit and a dark blue tie stepped out. He was tall and slightly chubby and looked to be in his thirties. He didn’t smile. He looked troubled, and I had learned quickly to know the expression by heart.
He blinked. He seemed to know me before I could introduce myself. He stepped forward, coming up to me. He folded a lip and asked, “Miss Claudia Belle?”
But it didn’t really sound like a question. He seemed to know exactly who I was.
I looked up at him curiously; almost afraid of what he would tell me. The man dropped his head slightly, and his eyes took on a deep sadness as his lips quivered slightly.
I asked, “Yes?”
He took a deep breath. “I'm Mr. West, a friend of your father’s, Nicholas Belle.”
I looked around as the world went about its business with this man and me at the end of it, and we were in another realm entirely.
I stared at him for a long moment, glaring at him, daring to see what his thoughts read, but I was afraid of what they would reveal to me. I was afraid I already knew. I felt the tears rip through the corners of my eyes, and I gasped.
“He asked me to come.” He paused like he was having trouble talking too. Did I already know why?
“I'm afraid I have some terrible news,” he said, and I choked back a sob.
“Your parents have been in a horrible accident,” he finally managed, and I gasped as a tear rolled down my cheek. I gazed up at him, my eyes wide open.
“I'm sorry,” he said.
Speechless, I sobbed quietly, almost soundlessly. I wiped at the tears breaking loose from my eyes, trying to hide the fact that I was weak and lost.
I didn't know what to say. I didn't believe it, but it was the truth. I knew it.
“Is that why you’re here?” I finally asked, trying to stop myself from crying, but it was no use. “Why are you here?” I again said.
“I was instructed to take you to a friend,” he said. He opened the door of the Lincoln. At any other time, I would not have believed a complete stranger when he told me something like this. Of course, no one in their right mind would have just believed anything so outrageous without certain proof, but I could read his mind just as if he had said those words through his slim lips. I knew what he had just revealed was nothing but the truth. As much as I didn’t want to believe it, it was the awful truth.
But I still said, “I don't believe you,” because I didn’t know what else to say.
I wanted to turn and run from the truth, from him and everything including reality, but I just stood as he held the door of the Lincoln open and gazed back at me.
“I have something for you from your father. He asked me to give it to you if anything ever were to happen to him or your mother.”
I took a deep breath as he motioned me into the Lincoln. Without hesitation, I took a step forward and watched as the chauffeur came out of the driver’s side and grabbed a hold of my luggage. I climbed into the car as Mr. West closed the door behind me and walked around, climbing into the car from the other side. It was quiet for a moment as the driver climbed into the car, and then we began to move.
I turned as he said, “Your father made this for you. He asked me to come for you if anything ever happened to them. I’m an attorney.”
“Are you my father’s attorney?” I asked.
He took a deep breath.
“You can say that. I’ve helped your father make the arrangements with my client.”
“Arrangements?” I asked, and then it was clear as the thoughts that soaked his mind. Father hadn’t hired him, but he was handling the paperwork for another, someone else, a name of Edwards kept coming into his thoughts, someone my father trusted.
He took out an iPad. “He asked me to give you a message.”
“What is it?” I asked, but I could see already it was a video as he put the iPad where I could see it.
The video screen opened, and my father appeared on the screen: “Claudia, my girl, if you’re seeing this then—I’m afraid.” He paused.
“You must listen very carefully baby. Listen to what Mr. West tells you. I can't fully explain everything, but with time you will discover the truth on your own. Right now, you must go with Mr. West. I've secured a place for you with a person I trust. He will care for you now. All the arrangements have been made for your comfort and your safety. You must trust me and believe me that I did all this to protect you. We love you. Never forget that. We love you!”
“Nicholas please let me—” My father held my mother back, and I could see her on the screen, pleading and crying to speak into the video to tell me more, but she knew she couldn’t.
“I love you!” She could only say this before she broke into sobs. My father smiled into the screen as he reached forward to touch the monitor. I did the same, and for that moment, our hands touched, if only through the screen for one last time.
“We're with you always, Claudia.”
And then he was gone.
Mr. West slowly pulled the iPad back; he tucked it into his briefcase and sat there silently. “That’s all of the message. I was instructed to deliver it to you in the event that something happened to them. I received word of the accident early this morning. Again, I’m sorry for your loss.”
Early this morning, I thought. I was gone by then. I had left the night before in the cover of darkness. Father said it would be best and that I had nothing to be afraid of. I trusted Father; he had the best intentions for me.
But now, I wondered what he feared when I felt him holding me before the limo arrived to pick me up. They just stood there waving as the limo carried me to the airport alone, not that I was afraid to be alone, but we were always together.
“All final burial arrangements have been taken care of. All the details are in the documents.” He continued talking, pulling documents from his briefcase.
“Do you have any questions for me?” he continued, like a nervous wreck.
“They weren’t supposed to die,” I cut him off as the car continued down the street.
“They weren’t, were they? But they still planned this, didn’t they?” I asked, looking over at Mr. West as the car continued moving.
“They still planned to send me away with this person.”
“They wanted to protect you,” Mr. West simply said, then returned to his documents.
“Where will the funeral be held?” I asked, looking down at my lap.
“There won’t be one.” Mr. West answered, looking up, concerned by what he planned to reveal.
“Your father’s will gave specific instructions that upon his and your late mother’s death, their bodies be cremated immediately. But, as I mentioned, all the arrangements have already been taken care of. There’s nothing for you to be worried about.” He looked over at me, sympathetically.
“Who is Dr. Edwards?” I asked, completely off the topic but it was something on his mind. A name that kept popping into his head, a name he wished could take his place. He hated being the bearer of bad
news.
Mr. West turned. He looked shocked; he had never revealed the other party’s name, but no matter how surprised he was that I knew this, he didn’t answer my question.
But didn’t I already know?
4
The Connection
July 2012 A month earlier…
* * *
The feeling of the liquid burned his throat. The past wouldn't stop haunting him with Nicholas' photograph in the drawer of his desk. Had he been ready to let it all go? To forget he could ever be with his son?
"It's okay. It’s over," he announced as if he were making a speech. "The connection is broken." His breath reeked of fine liquor. His words were a mere whisper.
His son, the big businessman, the head of a large financial firm, was involved with the royals of the big business world. But that wasn’t what had alerted him, it was the young girl by his side, his granddaughter. He had been ready to let it all go until he saw her. But was he ready to make that call? To make the connection again?
“Hello father,” a voice said loudly from the entrance of his office. Dr. Edwards looked up as the bottle he was holding shattered to pieces beside his desk. Dr. Edwards glanced at the blond man standing in the doorway. Fear and terror resurfaced, but the fear had been replaced with excitement and liberation.
“Nicholas?” Dr. Edwards gasped as he sat on his chair, gazing at the handsome man standing at the entrance of his office. He was speechless; so many times, he thought of what he would tell his only son, but now the words would not come to him. He blinked, his lips parted, but then he choked, dazed by the liquor in his veins.
“Yes, I know who you are,” Nicholas firmly said. “Father,” hissed the young blond man with the clear blue eyes as he stepped forward into Dr. Edwards’ office. Nicholas was a wise-looking man in his thirties, dressed in an immaculate clean, black suit.
“Nicholas,” he said, rising from his seat. “How did you know?”