by M. L. WILSON
“That’s not your concern. Do it, and you stay out of prison. Don’t, and I’ll lock you up for so long, you won’t even remember what a computer looks like.”
“Naw, man,” Justin says with a smile.” Somethin’s up, and you need me. What is it? Someone tryin’ to kill you?”
Justin truly does spend all his time on his computer. Bishop’s and Saunders’ pictures has been all over the news, and Justin knows nothing about it.
“Look, the less you know, the better off you are.”
“Oooh,” Justin says as he rubs his hands together with excitement. “Sounds like some Mission Impossible–type shit. Come on, Bishop, let me in on it. Every team needs a good hacker. Don’t you watch Leverage?”
“Look—”
Before Bishop can continue, Saunders interrupts. Justin doesn’t look like he’s ever been with a woman before. She flings her hair, bats her lashes, and looks at him with her pretty brown eyes. Putty in her hands. At least that’s her plan.
“Look, Justin, we really need your help.” Saunders reaches forward and gently caresses his scruffy beard. Not at all to her liking, but sacrifices have to be made. She tries not to laugh when she realizes that he really does resemble an eel.
Justin hasn’t been touched by a woman like this in, well, forever. Needless to say, Saunders has his complete, undivided attention.
“If you help us, I would be very, very grateful,” she says as she caresses his flabby bicep and bats her eyes at him.
Game. Set. Match.
Justin is speechless. He just stares, starry-eyed into Saunders’ eyes. It’s been a while since she’s used her feminine wiles. She’s glad to know she hasn’t lost the touch.
Unfortunately for Justin, she’s nowhere near attracted to him. What woman could be attracted to a man who looks like an eel?
“Okay,” Justin says with a sheepish smile as he sits down at his computer. “So, uh, you wanna know about an FBI agent?”
“Yeah,” Bishop says as he smiles a nicely done smile at Saunders. “Agent’s name is Benjamin Breer.”
“You’re in luck. I already have a hack for the FBI. Government security is a joke.”
Justin connects an external hard drive into his computer and starts typing commands. After a few minutes, all the information he needs is on his twenty-one-and-a-half-inch monitors for everyone in the room to see.
“So, what would you like to know? Promotions? E-mails? Bank accounts? You name it; it’s all right here.”
With mixed feelings, Bishop leans forward to look closely at the monitor. Just like that, and some geek like Eel can pull up any bit of information on you they want. Technology given to humans by the Promelians.
“Let me see his e-mails,” Bishop says as he takes a seat. Two keystrokes later, and Agent Breer’s work and private e-mail history is on the screen. With Justice looking over his shoulder, Bishop begins his search for the needle in the haystack, something they can use to give them an edge. He knows it’s just a matter of time before they’re all dead.
Justin, on the other hand, takes this time to try to get to know Saunders a little better. A hopeless effort, but he has to try.
“Soooo, what do you like to do for fun?” Justin asks nervously.
“I collect spores, molds, and fungus,” Saunders answers with a smile.
“GHOSTBUSTERS!” Justin yells. “Good one. I love Ghostbusters. Looks like we have a lot in common.”
No the hell we don’t, Saunders thinks to herself.
“So, I was wondering if you weren’t busy this Saturday maybe I can take you out? I can get my mom’s car and—”
“I hate to interrupt, but what are these folders?” Bishop asks. Perfect timing for Saunders. She was just about to break Justin’s heart.
“Encrypted e-mails. Program’s a little different, though. Hmmmm.” As attractive as Laura Saunders is, Justin forgets all about trying to get a date with her. His first love, computers, needs his attention right now.
“Can you hack into it?”
“Give me some credit, Bishop. I’m the best hacker in New York.”
“Yeah, yeah. Blow your horn on your own time.”
A few keystrokes later, and Justin has all the encrypted e-mails open.
“Whoa,” Justin says as he glances through some of Agent Breer’s e-mails. “Who the hell is this guy? If he’s FBI, I’m Bill Gates. And what kind of stupid e-mail address is nuwrld.”
“New World,” Justice says.
CHAPTER 88
BISHOP STARTS READING through the hundreds of Agent Breer’s work and personal e-mails. Mostly typical bureau jargon on his work e-mails—meetings, conference calls. Even a few “LOLs” and “OMGs.” Nothing special.
His personal e-mails were no different. He even has Facebook and Twitter accounts. Based on the alerts he gets, it looks like he’s pretty active on both. He’s blending in perfectly. After about thirty more minutes of scrolling, Bishop strikes gold. Some of the e-mails talk about “new arrivals” and “allies.” The one that stands out the most is one that gives latitude and longitude.
Where is this location?
What’s so special about it?
Who is he communicating with?
“Justice, look at this.”
“Thirty-five point five five three north by eighteen point zero four eight east.”
“I need a map.”
“Uh...sorry. Don’t have one,” Justin says, embarrassed. Not a big surprise to anyone in the room that he doesn’t have one.
“Use Google,” Justice says. “It’s more accurate, anyway.”
After putting in the latitude and longitude, it only takes seconds for the location to come up: the center of the Mediterranean Sea.
“The Med?” Bishop says. “What’s so special about—”
Before Bishop can finish his question, Justice interrupts with the only answer possible.
“One of their ships.”
“Ship?” Justin asks. “What ship?”
Before anyone can answer, an alert pops up on Justin’s monitors.
“What’s this?” Bishop asks.
“Holy shit! Move!” Justin orders.
Bishop jumps out of the chair, hoping the alert is not some sort of tracking program. If so, he knows he’s just put Justin in harm’s way. After a few seconds, his hopes are dashed with Justin’s confirmation.
“Whoever it is, they’re tracking us.”
Justin works quickly to stop his program from running. He knows he only has seconds before the program locks in on his position. Justin works feverishly as Bishop, Saunders, and Justice watch. Each of them knows that by involving Justin, they have put him in harm’s way also. How many more people have to die just to expose the truth?
Justin strikes the enter key and stops his program from running. Just in time.
“Holy shit, Bishop. What did you get me into? Are they gonna come lookin’ for me?”
“No. Relax. No one is gonna come looking for you.”
“Then would you mind telling me what the hell you guys are into? Did you piss off the CIA or somethin?”
“No, nothing like that. I’m investigating a homicide and...some people don’t want us to investigate it.” Bishop knows a lie of omission is still a lie, but he can’t help but accept the fact that he may have gotten Justin killed, him and his mother.
Hopefully, whoever it was, was not able to track him. It’s better Justin not know the details. He probably wouldn’t believe it, anyway.
“I think it’s time to go,” Saunders says.
“Go? Wait. I didn’t get your number.” Justin still thinks he has a chance with Saunders. He doesn’t realize that he’s served his purpose.
Saunders is not usually rude to unattractive men who flirt with her, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
“Look, Justin, you’re a nice kid, but you’re just not my type. Maybe in a few years, okay?”
Bishop and Justice head up the stairs, followed closel
y by Saunders and Justin. If Justin is nothing else, he’s persistent. Saunders is beginning to regret flirting with him. He looks like the stalker type.
“Okay. So...maybe I can call you anyway, and who knows?”
“It’s better if you didn’t. I’m...going out of town.”
“Thanks for your help, Justin,” Justice says as they walk out the door.
“Well? Did you get her number?” Justin’s mother asks.
“Shut up, Ma!”
CHAPTER 89
THE SKY IS overcast with some rumbling and lightning in the distance. Gray clouds and a light breeze indicates a storm is rolling in. Bishop, Saunders, and Justice get back in the car and drive away, unsure of what to do next. They’re running out of places to hide.
Bishop also has to deal with the possibility that he may have gotten Justin and his mother killed. He seriously underestimated the resources and capabilities of those that are trying to kill him. They killed a good friend of his already. His fault for getting Kuntz involved. He doesn’t want to risk anyone else getting hurt. They’re on their own from now on. If they are caught, if they are killed, then so be it.
The latitude and longitude they got from Agent Breer’s e-mail is the best lead they have so far. They’ve done enough running. It’s time they went on the offensive for a change.
“Okay, so this latitude, longitude thing, what is that?” Saunders asks.
“A ship,” Justice answers. “Probably the Promelian mother ship. When my people arrived on Earth, they hid their ships in your seas and oceans. I think the Promelians did the same.”
“Okay, so what’s so special about the mother ship?” Bishop asks.
“My guess is, their means of cloaking is on board the mother ship.”
“So how does that help us?”
“Above all else, the Promelians do not want to be exposed. If we can get to their ship and disable their cloak—”
“No. It must be more than that,” Bishop says. “The agent in the alley said an invasion force is on its way here. What if...”
“What if what?” Saunders asks as she leans forward from the backseat. “What are you thinking?”
“What if...their homing beacon is on board that ship?”
“Could be,” Justice says. “Yes. The Promelians came here in hundreds of ships just like my ancestors did. That ship could be the communication link to their invasion force. If we can get to that ship and stop the signal—”
“We can stop the invasion,” Bishop says with excitement. They finally have a real plan instead of running for their lives.
“That’s great,” Saunders says. “Now all we have to do is figure out how to get to the bottom of the Mediterranean.”
“All we have is a theory,” Justice says. “We need to get more information.”
“That means we have to go back to the city,” Saunders says. “Every cop in the city is looking for us. Not to mention G-men and aliens.”
“Which makes the city the perfect place to hide,” Bishop says. “It’s the last place they’ll look for us. Besides, we can’t run forever, Doctor. We have to make a stand, right here, right now.”
“You think Breer has the answers we need?” Saunders asks.
“No doubt in my mind.”
“Okay, so how do we get him to talk?” Justice asks.
“Leave that to me. We’ll find us a place to lay low, then I’ll find Breer and get some answers.”
“You mean, we’ll find him partner.”
“I mean me, Justice. Alone. This is something I have to do.”
CHAPTER 90
BISHOP RARELY EVER notices the weather when he visits the cemetery. Today is different. The weather is beautiful. For the first time, he actually noticed the large oak trees, the gentle wind blowing, and the sun beaming in a cloudless sky.
He notices everything that had always been there. Other times, he’s distracted for obvious reasons. This time, he is at peace. Bishop knows what he’s up against. The odds are against him that he will live to see another day. He knows what he’s about to do is suicide, but he doesn’t have a choice. It’s either take the fight to them, or wait till they run out of places to hide.
He’s always been better at fighting than running.
A better fighter but not invincible. He doesn’t see a scenario that he, Justice, and Saunders walk away from this. Bishop always knew he would die in the line of duty. Never in a million years had he believed that it would be at the hands of aliens. He never thought he would be playing Superman and saving the world, either. Guess he drew the short straw.
Bishop looks around to make sure there isn’t an ambush waiting for him as he makes his way to his family’s grave sites. Every time he comes here, he tells his wife and daughter he will be with them soon. Many times, he considered speeding up the meeting by his own hand. Never had the guts to do it, though.
He doesn’t think about that anymore, though. Things are different for him now. There is more purpose in his life; a reason to go on living.
The ground is moist and muddy, so Bishop decides not to sit this time. Besides, time is short. He doesn’t have time to make himself comfortable.
“Hello, angels. Well, you’re not gonna believe this. I’m going to have to arrest some aliens,” he says with a smile.
“Yeah, I know it sounds stupid. Never thought I’d be telling you something like this. I didn’t believe it at first until I saw one. They killed my friend. Yeah, I know what you would say, it’s not my fault. The thing is, they’re gonna kill a whole lot more unless I do something about.”
Bishop decides to kneel in front of Caroline’s grave.
“I have to do something tonight that you wouldn’t be proud of. I wish there was another way. God knows, I wish there were. So many times, Caroline, I thought about killing myself. Not anymore, though. I have a reason for being here. I may not live to see another day, but at least I’ll die for something.”
Bishop pauses for a moment and looks around the cemetery. He sees other grieving family members at grave sites and wonders what their conversations are like.
“I have to go,” he says as he stands up. Bishop steps forward and kisses Caroline and Brianna’s headstones.
“I love you. Wish me luck.”
CHAPTER 91
IT’S EIGHT THIRTY p.m., and Agent Breer is just getting home. One of his usual fourteen-hour days on the job. No one ever said being an FBI agent was a nine-to-five job.
Agent Breer drops his briefcase on the chair and loosens his tie. Time to relax. He’s been looking forward to kicking up his feet and nursing a bottle of scotch all day. A good bottle of scotch is one of the few human pleasures he can appreciate.
Two ice cubes, glass half full. A daily ritual for Breer.
Another of his rituals is his daily viewing of Jeopardy. He considers Jeopardy the best way to learn all there is to learn about human history. It’s always good to know your enemy.
Breer kicks off his shoes, rests his feet on the coffee table, and turns on the DVR for a new episode. Just as Vanna turns the first vowel, he sees a shadow come across the television screen. Someone’s behind him. He doesn’t have his gun on him, left it sitting on the bar.
Breer jumps up from the couch, spilling his scotch on the floor. He turns and stares down the barrel of a Glock pointed right at his head. Behind the gun is someone he never expected to see. Someone he thought would be dead by now.
“Detective Bishop!”
Bishop doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t have to. Breer gets the message. Gets it all too well.
“What the hell are you doing here? How did you get in my house?”
“What’s the matter, Agent Breer, or whatever your real name is? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“What are you talking about? Put that gun away, Detective. I’m a federal agent.”
“Federal agent, huh? You’re not even human.”
Breer nervously laughs at Bishop’s accusation, knowing full well
Bishop has found him out.
“What are you talking about? You’re crazy. Put that gun down.”
“You know what?” Bishop says with a smile. “You’re right. I am crazy.”
Bishop points his weapon at Breer’s left knee and pulls the trigger. The round goes through Breer’s kneecap and into the far wall behind him. Breer lets out a bloodcurdling scream, grabs his knee, and falls to the floor. His black blood spews onto the sofa and the floor.
“Well, well, well. Looks like you Promelians are just as fragile as us humans.”
“YOU SON OF A BITCH!” Breer screams.
“That I am. And I’m tired of being shot at. Tired of running. I need answers, and I need ’em now.”
“Go to hell!” Breer answers as he rocks back and forth in pain.
“No one can hear you scream, Breer. I can do this all night.” Bishop takes a seat on the couch in front of Agent Breer. “Who ordered me and my friends killed?”
“I’m not telling you anything!”
“Suit yourself.” Bishop puts the barrel of his gun on Breer’s right hand and pulls the trigger. The round goes through his hand and into the floor. More alien blood is spilled. Breer screams in pain, but knows no one can hear him.
“I can do this all night, Breer. Somehow, I don’t think you can take it all night, though.”
Breer starts to wonder just how much more he can take.
“Tell me what I need to know, Breer,” Bishop says as he puts the gun to Breer’s right knee.
“I...I can’t. They’ll kill me!”
Bishop pulls the trigger again. Breer’s right knee is shattered. More blood. More screaming.
“I can do this all night, alien,” Bishop says as he presses the barrel of his gun to Breer’s head. Breer has reached his breaking point.
“All right, all right! Just stop!”
Bishop smiles. “I figured you’d see it my way. Now, tell me everything I wanna know. Who wants us dead and why?”
CHAPTER 92
BREER THINKS LONG and hard about answering Bishop’s questions. He knows if he answers, it would mean his death. He knows if he doesn’t answer, it means more torture and possibly his death. Bishop is a police officer. Police officers are sworn to protect, not kill. Looking into Bishop’s eyes, Breer knows that may not be the case tonight. A lose-lose situation.