by Toby Tate
“Ah, I’m glad you’re back. I was just going to call you.”
Hunter shut the door on the rental car. “Call me? About what?”
“To tell you that you are under arrest for the murder of Dr. Samuel Jensen.”
Twenty-three
Hunter couldn’t believe what he was hearing. They were arresting him for murder?
“Wait a minute, I was in my hotel room all night. My wife was there with me. As a matter of fact, I spent all morning trying to call Jensen to talk to him about something I found. Why don’t you check his phone records?”
Matthias smiled. “Mr. Singleton, you may have called him, but that doesn’t prove you didn’t kill him. As for your wife, well…that is not the most reliable source for an alibi.”
Hunter could feel his heart beginning to race. “What proof do you have that I killed Jensen. What possible motive could there be?”
“Motivation? Anger over the loss of your wife’s cousin, or maybe even theft. We won’t know until after the investigation. As for proof—the murder weapon was found just a few meters from the crime scene, buried in the dirt. It has your fingerprints on it.”
“What? That’s impossible.”
Matthias motioned for one of his men to handcuff Hunter.
“If you’re innocent, that’s for the courts to decide. In the meantime, I must take you in. I apologize, Mrs. Singleton.”
As the officer cuffed Hunter’s hands behind his back, he turned to his wife. “Honey, call Gabe. Tell her what happened. She’ll know what to do.”
Tears began to cloud her eyes as she spoke. “Hunter, I want to go with you.”
As the officer led him away, Hunter turned to speak over his shoulder. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Just call Gabe.”
Hunter was ushered into the back seat of one of the police cars, and he turned to look out the window. He saw shock on Lisa’s face as they drove by her on the way out of the parking lot.
“God, please look after my wife,” he murmured.
* * *
Lisa was shell-shocked. She knew it was impossible, not only because Hunter could never murder anyone in cold blood, but because she knew for a fact he was in the hotel room all night. The whole thing was bullshit.
The simple answer was that he had been framed. But by who? And why?
She stood there for a few moments, desperately wanting to jump in the car and go after him, absent-mindedly cradling her round stomach. But logic prevailed, and she knew that calling Gabe was the best thing to do. If anyone could help in a situation like this, it was Gabe and her connections at the CIA. She just prayed that if Hendricks was behind this, she and her husband didn’t end up like Sam Jensen.
* * *
“I think Captain Matthias is on Hendricks’s payroll and he’s looking for a way to deflect scrutiny away from any of Hendricks’s people,” Gabe said. “I’m going to talk to some of my people at the agency and see what we can do about getting Hunter released. In the meantime, I’d like to bring you here to my hotel so you don’t have to stay alone. I have an extra bed, so it’s no inconvenience to me. In fact, I’d enjoy the company.”
“The company of a pregnant woman? Are you sure?”
“I don’t think Hunter would be very happy if you went into labor and nobody was around to help. Besides, I’d feel better knowing I was close by.”
“Weren’t all of you going to check out the obelisks?”
“Yes, but since we’re taking military flights, we can be back quickly if anything happens.”
“I just wish I didn’t feel so helpless. You should have seen them dragging Hunter away like he was Charles Manson. Assholes.”
“I understand. Don’t worry. I’m going to get hold of Mac and we’re going to go down to the police station and straighten this out.”
“I appreciate it, Gabe. More than you’ll ever know.”
* * *
While Gabe was away trying to gain Hunter’s freedom, Lisa lay alone on the couch, her stomach tied up in knots. She tried watching TV, but the only shows in English were news shows, all depressing. There weren’t any books to read and she didn’t feel like messing with her iPad, so she sat there staring at the wall.
She stroked her belly with the flat of her palm, trying as much to relax herself as her unborn child. Hunter’s unborn child.
When they had first met, Hunter was as nervous as a teenager talking to a girl for the first time, though he was already twenty-five and working as a full-time reporter for the River City Tribune. He was interviewing her for a story, and afterwards realized he had forgotten to turn on the digital recorder. The few notes he had written down were not enough to write a story with, so they ended up doing the interview again. She loved his goofy grin and his silly sense of humor. They started dating and it got serious very quickly. They were quite the pair, she with her African-American mother and Chinese father, and Hunter with his Caucasian and Native American heritage. The wedding guests and their various nationalities reminded Lisa of a gathering at the United Nations.
Only a few months ago, they had gone aboard the USS Gerald R Ford as part of the media team to do a report on the navy’s new F/A-18 Super Hornet fighter jet. She had managed to get assigned as Hunter’s photographer, taking a few days off from her job as a park ranger. At first it had been fun, but then things quickly went to hell, much as they were now. A woman named Julia Lambert, aka Lilith MacIntyre, had taken over the crew of the ship using some sort of parasitic mind control creature, then proceeded to launch a Sea Sparrow missile at New York City, where it leveled a square city block inside the Bronx. Then she had kidnapped her husband at gunpoint and taken over his mind with a parasite. She had never felt so enraged and powerless in her life—she wanted to crush the life out of Lilith with her bare hands.
When the CIA black ops team went looking for them in the streets and abandoned subway tunnels of Manhattan, Lisa made them take her along, and wouldn’t take no for an answer. That had been the longest twenty-four hours of her life. Thanks God, Gabe and Mac had been there, just as they were now. They had saved her and her husband, as well as their unborn child. She owed them both a great deal.
She just prayed that they would be able to come through for her one more time.
Twenty-four
Hunter knew this whole murder charge was crap. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do about it at the moment.
The local police station was in an old building, probably as old as most of the other structures in the city. It was ancient, dark, depressing, and it smelled like body odor and urine inside his cell, which was troublesome since there was no toilet. There were only a couple of other people in the jail besides him, and they both looked like locals. They eyed him from their cells when he had been brought in, sizing him up, undoubtedly recognizing him as a foreigner.
They had put him in a cell by himself, which was probably a good idea, since he was not in the greatest mood right now and was liable to piss off one of the other inmates, or vice versa. Then he could add assault and battery to the charges.
He had tried talking sense to Matthias, but the police captain was having none of it. Hendricks had a grip on him, probably on the entire police force. If they only knew Hendricks like he did, they would know he was just a loud-mouthed little prick. He had the strength of a grizzly bear, but Hunter had still managed to bloody the man’s nose last time they had met, just before Lilith had torn him to shreds. How could that worthless piece of shit be alive again? He figured he would probably never know the answer to that question.
He thought about Lisa, and the look on her face as they drove him away in the back of the police car. He had never her seen her look so lost. If only he hadn’t insisted on being so belligerent with Matthias, maybe they wouldn’t be in this mess. But at least marriage had mellowed him a little. As a boy, he had been more prone to speaking with his fists than with his words. Even before his wife had taught him Wing Chun kung fu, Hunter had been a street fi
ghter, mostly out of necessity. A Cherokee adopted into a white family was a primary target for bullying when he had lived in Oklahoma.
At sixteen he went on a camping trip with his parents to a place called Lake Tenkiller, outside of Muskogee. He had gone for a walk around the lake when he was approached by a couple of older white boys on motorcycles. They were both bigger and meaner than him. Neither wore a helmet. He knew things weren’t going to end well.
“Hey, since when do they let you guys off the reservation?” one of the boys asked, glancing at his companion, who barked out a laugh.
“Yeah, I thought Indians were supposed to be busy doing rain dances and shit,” the other boy said.
“No, that’s only on Thursdays,” Hunter said, keeping his eyes on the first boy.
“Well, whattaya know—he speaks English.”
Hunter smiled. “I’m surprised you guys can understand me.”
The older boys looked at each other, then back at Hunter as they stepped off their motorcycles and put down the kickstands.
“You want a piece of this?” the first boy said, stepping closer and crossing both arms over his chest like a Roman centurion. He was at least four inches taller than Hunter.
He could feel the anger building to a slow boil inside, but his father had always taught him to turn the other cheek, that violence only begets more violence.
“I’m not looking for a fight,” he said. “I just want to walk.”
Then the other boy stepped up. “Looks like you found a fight whether you want one or not. Injun,” he said, pronouncing “Indian” like he was describing the power plant for a sixty-nine Plymouth.
Then, the first boy reached out and gave him a shove, sending Hunter sprawling to the ground. The rest was a blur.
Hunter jumped up off the ground in a split second and round kicked the first boy on the side of his head, sending him crashing into the other boy. They both fell to the ground in a heap. Then he went to work sitting on them and punching them each in the face until there was more blood than visible flesh. The punches were lightning quick and rained down mercilessly, so much so that it was impossible to block the blows.
Eventually, Hunter stopped and looked down at his handiwork. He had never felt so bad about anything in his life. To make matters worse, people had begun to gather around to watch the spectacle, not even bothering to try and stop it. Then, his father broke through the crowd and stared at Hunter with a disappointment in his eyes that hurt more than any beating ever could.
His father made him apologize to the boys, who looked like they had both gone ten rounds with Muhammad Ali, and walked him back to the camp.
But there was no yelling, no beating, no “I am very disappointed in you” talk. They simply ate supper and went to bed, and the incident was never spoken of again. Hunter couldn’t remember ever being in another fight throughout the rest of his school career, though there were plenty of times when he had been provoked to that point. But he would always remember the incident at the lake, and walk away.
Now, he wanted nothing more than to thrash Chief Matthias, but he knew that would solve nothing. In fact, it would likely get him a nice, lengthy jail term in a foreign country. Not a pleasant thought.
He stood up from his bench and walked to a small window on one side of the cell. It was still early afternoon and sunny outside, making the jail seem by contrast even darker and more depressing than it already was.
To relax himself and clear his mind, Hunter pressed his palms together in front of his face and exhaled deeply, and then inhaled. After several seconds of this, he began tai chi, performing the moves expertly from rote memory. He knew the other prisoners were probably watching, but didn’t really care.
They can find their own way to relax.
Ten minutes later, he could hear Gabe speaking loudly in the office on the other side of the door to his cell block.
Twenty-five
Hendricks stared out the window of his study, subconsciously rubbing the temple of his throbbing head with one hand. Whenever he spoke to the entity, it felt like his brain was being turned to jelly.
Their little “talk” hadn’t gone so well. Hendricks considered himself a step above the Human race. He was where they would be a million years from now in their evolution. He was powerful, highly intelligent and resourceful.
So why then did he seem to be in conflict with his own emotions? He had always had them under control before−until she had come along. Even his lover, Lilith, hadn’t made him feel this way. Now, it was all he could do just to concentrate on the problem at hand. The entity had sensed it, and that was not good. They would not permit any outside interference with their plans. If they felt he could not facilitate things properly, then he could, and would, be replaced.
And replacement also meant termination, which Hendricks had no doubt was well within their capabilities.
So what was he to do? Should he use one of the parasites to control Jade? He hesitated to use them, because the parasite drained humans of their will, and he wanted her to be, well, herself, not some mindless robot. You couldn’t force someone to love you. He had seen that tried several times, and it always ended in misery. But he knew he couldn’t just let her go. No, he would have to persuade her to come over to his way of thinking somehow.
The question was, how?
* * *
Jade was in her room and it was beginning to get dark now. She was feeling nervous. What if someone came to her room while she was gone? They might decide to permanently lock her in here, or worse, just do away with her all together.
But she had to get out of this prison. It was beginning to get claustrophobic and she needed to know the layout of the island so she could steal a phone and call her cousin and Hunter to come and get her. Besides, Lawrence was giving her the eye and it made her uncomfortable. Because he was rich, somewhat good looking, and very persuasive? No. Impossible. He was way too old and too crazy for her. Sure, he had a smooth, sexy voice and kind of a sensual manner about him. And what was he hiding behind those Ray Bans, exactly? What were his eyes like? Were they a deep, mysterious brown, or a piercing sky blue?
No, damn it, girl, you are not going to go there. Let’s stay focused.
Jade closed her eyes and cleared her mind of everything but the access door inside her closet, imagined herself climbing down through it and making her way to freedom.
Then, there was a knock at her door.
Twenty-six
Gabe was not one to mince words, especially when she knew she was right about something—and she knew that Hunter was no killer.
“Captain Matthias, I realize that Hendricks is extremely powerful and manipulative, but at some point you have to make a stand. Framing someone for a murder that you know they didn’t commit is not going to appease him for long. When he’s done using you for whatever reason, he’s going to cover his tracks by getting rid of the evidence, and that includes neutralizing you and anyone that’s helping you. In fact, if my suspicions are right, Crete itself may be in danger.”
Matthias studied Gabe from behind his desk for a few seconds and then sighed.
“Ms. Lincoln, I understand your concern for your friend, but I assure you, he has not been framed. At least not by me. And I have no idea who this ‘Hendricks’s person is you speak of.”
Gabe watched Mathias’s eyes for any sign that he was lying, or what people in the espionage business called a ‘tell.’ When a person spoke, just for a split second, there was a subconscious telltale twitch in the eye, or a maybe in the mouth, which the CIA had trained her to spot. Everyone had a ‘tell,’ especially people who were not used to lying. Matthias gave no such indication, meaning he was a very good liar, or he was telling the truth.
“Captain, this man David Lawrence is not who you, or anyone else, think he is. What do I have to do to convince you that the person you are dealing with is extremely dangerous, beyond the conventional sense? He could do things to you, to your people, that would make
your worst nightmares seem tame by comparison.”
Matthias wore a lopsided smile. “I assure you, Ms. Lincoln, we have heard it all. Some of the most ancient and famous mythological stories of all time have originated from this very island. We have our gods and we have our monsters, just as any ancient culture. There is nothing new under the sun, as they say. As for this man Hendricks, if he is breaking the law, then our laws will deal with him, just as they will deal with Mr. Singleton.”
Gabe was exasperated. She knew she could probably call in some favors from the state department and possibly get Hunter released, but she needed this man’s cooperation.
“Captain, what if I could demonstrate what you’re up against?” Mac said. Gabe glanced at him. What was he up to?
“What do you mean?” Matthias asked.
“I mean, what if I said that I come from the same mold as Hendricks? What if I could give a little demonstration of the kind of power that you’re fighting here? Would that convince you that he’s more than just some crooked businessman?”
Gabe looked back at Matthias as he narrowed his eyes at Mac.
“I don’t understand what it is you’re trying to prove, Commander MacIntyre, but Mr. Singleton will remain here in our jail until he is tried according to Cretan law.”
“What I am trying to prove is that you are dealing with powers that you can’t possibly comprehend, and if you don’t help us fight Hendricks, you and everyone in Crete may be in danger.”
Both men’s voices were steadily rising in volume and everyone in the outer room began to stop and turn to look at the spectacle taking place in Matthias’s office.