Rachel’s shoulders sank in relief. “But who are you and what do you want?”
“All you need to know is we want to help you and your family. But you are going to have to trust me. Do you think you can do that?”
Rachel’s face went white as she considered who she might be talking to. “Are you one of the Book Liberator rebels?”
The woman smiled. “Let’s just say I belong to a group the king and queen are trying to get rid of with those sarin gas bombs. Now, more importantly, what are your plans? And, how can I help? You can call me Nancy, by the way.”
For the first time that morning, Rachel did not feel quite so alone. Maybe it was stupid, but she somehow knew she could trust this woman. She took a deep breath.
She opened the bag she was carrying so the woman could see inside of it. “I am supposed to have lunch with my son, Andrew, at noon. I was going to give him something to make him just sick enough to get him to a clinic. Then I was going to knock him out with this other drug, change his clothes, put him in a wheel chair and catch a train to Mexico City. As far away from here as I could take us.”
Nancy looked at Rachel in admiration. “Well, a bit audacious, I must admit. But did you stop to think that your T-chips will identify who you are every step of the way, which means law enforcement will be able to find both of you quickly?”
Rachel sagged as she realized she hadn’t really thought it through enough. Tears started to fill her eyes. “We have to get away from here. If we stay, the king will use us to force Argus to build those horrible sarin bombs. But if they cannot find us, maybe Argus can sabotage the effort without having to protect us.”
“Okay, I understand, but your plan has some great big holes in it. Why don’t you go have lunch with your son and give me a couple of days to work on some details to fill those holes?”
“What do I tell Andrew?”
“Oh, I am confident you’ll think of something. You are a mother determined to protect her family. I’ll be in touch.”
Nancy stood up and walked away without looking back.
Chapter Twenty-six
An Unexpected Arrival
Professor Schneider was at the meeting when Esther talked about the sarin gas bombs. The general pulled him aside as he was headed out the door.
“Professor bring me up to date on the progress on the dome coverings and the defensive strategies.”
The professor peered up at the general through bloodshot eyes. He obviously had been spending long hours on the projects essential for the defense of the city and rebel headquarters.
“Mind if I sit back down, sir?” he asked wearily.
“Of course not.”
The professor slowly sat himself down. He grabbed a cup of coffee sitting on the table, took a sip of the tepid drink, swallowed and then spoke slowly.
“We’ve tried the body armor coating on a miniature dome we sat up in near the armory. We bombarded it with laser fire and then all types of other things: fire, gas, chemicals, even water. Nothing penetrated. Only one problem. We put a rat inside it to test the air filtration and oxygen system and it died within five minutes. So, while the dome coating works, the air filtration system doesn’t.”
“Okay, what do you think it is going to take to make it work?”
“I don’t know. Sarin gas is so lethal, we cannot allow even a trace of it to enter a dome. One of the engineers is working on a new gas filter. If it works, we would be able to put the filters over all the air vents on the top of the dome. That way people can still get oxygen but avoid having the sarin touch their skin. I think we are really close to solving the problem.”
“Good. Keep at it. We don’t know how much time we have.”
As the professor trudged back to his lab, he realized he was so weary even putting one foot in front of the other was a huge task. Long hours bent over his worktable, calculating seemingly impossible engineering tasks were taking their toll on him. He straightened his 5’5” frame and heard his back pop. He was beginning to feel his age.
He frequently forgot to eat. He had always been thin, but now his white lab tunic hung on him like a window drape. His deep-set blue eyes were sunken into dark pits under shaggy eyebrows. He ran his hand through his thinning white hair. Must get a haircut. Then promptly forgot about it as his brilliant mind hopped back to the problem of keeping the sarin gas out of the dome while allowing oxygen inside and preventing too much carbon dioxide build up.
He didn’t realize he was bent over again until he suddenly ran into a very large, very solid object. He looked up in irritation. It was Mac.
“Mac! What a surprise. What are you doing in Mexico City? I thought you were with Brogan in Tegucigalpa?”
“I was, old buddy. But I just flew in to have a quick chat with the general. How are things? Solved all the problems of the world yet?”
Professor Schneider grinned up at his best friend, Mac. The two were total opposites in every way, but their adventures with the White Warrior, Brogan, blowing up the nuclear power plant and escaping river pirates created an inseparable bond.
“Hey, professor. How about you and I go grab a bite to eat. I’m starved, and you are getting way too skinny. Gotta put some meat back on those bones, otherwise the next river pirates we see are going to throw you in without giving you a chance to show them what a card-shark you are.”
Who could resist Mac? The professor happily fell into step with Mac, taking three steps to every single step of the big pilot.
After a delicious dinner of tacos, enchiladas and refried beans, the professor felt surprisingly better.
“Just what I needed, Mac.” He sat back contentedly and rubbed his full stomach. “Now what’s the real reason you are in Mexico City?”
“Can’t pull anything past you, can I? Okay, I need some advice and I don’t know who else to talk to. It’s kinda delicate and you gotta promise me you won’t say nothin’ to nobody. Deal?”
Now the professor was curious. What could be so mysterious? He couldn’t imagine Mac wanting to discuss anything fitting into the delicate category.
“You have my attention. So, start pontificating.”
“If that means talkin,’ like I think it does. Here goes.” Mac’s normally cheerful demeanor suddenly changed to a forlorn expression.
Uh Oh. Not like Mac at all. Whatever it was, this was serious. The professor decided to just sit quiet and let the big man tell it in his own way, in his own time.
“See, here’s the thing,” Mac suddenly blurted out. “I love this woman, but I don’t know how she feels about me. I’m scared spitless to say anything. I’m afraid she’ll laugh at me, or somethin. I couldn’t stand that. But, I’m afraid if I say anything, she’ll tell me to take a hike. I’m so miserable. What am I going to do?”
It was all Herbert could do to keep from laughing at this big lug of a guy so sloppy in love. But he kept his expression neutral and struggled to figure out what he should say. He’d never been in love himself. Never really saw the point or the need for romance. Not that any woman had ever looked twice at him. There was that cute little BL rebel spy in the emperor’s pyramid. But she died destroying the cyborg army. He stopped himself as he realized his mind was wandering, and Mac was waiting for him to say something.
He cleared his throat and frantically thought about what he should do. His nimble mind finally came up with something.
“Is she married?”
“She was, but her husband was killed.”
“How long have you known her? And do I know her?”
Big Mac squirmed a bit. “Yeah, you know her.”
Herbert’s eyes got big as it suddenly hit him. “You’re in love with Brogan!”
When Mac didn’t deny it and his face turned beet red, Herbert knew he was right. There were probably a lot of men in love with the White Warrior. She was beautiful, talented, intelligent and a great person. But, Mac?
“Well aren’t you going to say something; like ‘how can you be so stu
pid’?”
Herbert laid his small hand on his miserable friend’s huge arm. “Of course, I’m not going to say that. Although I’ve never been in love myself, I heard it isn’t something you can necessarily control. It just happens. So, what are you going to do?”
“That’s the problem. I don’t know what to do.”
“Are you going to go with her on her trek to the Pacific Northwest?”
“If she will let me, absolutely. But, I’m afraid if I tell her how I feel, she won’t let me go.”
“Okay, there’s your answer. Why don’t you go ahead and take the trip and wait until you have arrived at your destination then gauge the situation and decide if you want to tell her.”
Mac jumped up from the booth where they were sitting in the tiny Mexican restaurant, picked up Herbert and danced him around the room.
“Absolutely brilliant, little buddy! I knew you would have the answer. That’s exactly what I’m going to do.”
He plopped the professor back down on to his seat and promptly signaled the server robot for another round of margarita’s, the huge trademark grin back on his face.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Deadly Plans Delayed
The king and queen were not happy. And when they weren’t happy, everyone around them did their best to stay out of their way.
Dr. Delis had just reported another problem with the sarin bombs. Apparently, when one of his assistants tried to move the only viable test gas into the prepared bomb at the testing site in Utah, the container was dropped and split open. Fortunately, the assistant was wearing protective gear, but the test gas dispersed. The team was back to developing a new batch of gas.
“I want that assistant executed,” Queen Jacqueline screamed when she heard the news.
“Come on, queenie,” King Jamil said, trying to calm her down. “It’s just a setback, not the end of the program. You have to expect these types of things will happen before we get it right.”
He watched as she paced back and forth in front of the massive window in their suite, overlooking Boston Harbor. “She looks like a black panther in that skin-tight jumpsuit,” he thought. “All she needs is a tail.”
He squelched the grin as he caught her glaring at him. “What’s so funny, kingee?”
“Oh, nothing. Just thinking of all those Book Liberator rebels we will kill when we finally get this project completed.”
He swallowed his relief as she seemed to accept his explanation.
“So, how long will it take before they are ready for another test?”
“Dr. Delis seems to think it will take at least three more months to have another batch of the gas ready. That means it will probably be March at the earliest.”
“I just hope our food supplies hold up until then, otherwise we are apt to have more riots on our hands.”
She turned back to the window, not really seeing the huge waves crashing against the shore in the blizzard-like conditions prevalent from September through April.
Jamil believed it was prudent to leave and find something else to do and somewhere else to be. The queen in a foul mood was not a pretty sight.
He didn’t even notice the two marines standing at attention at the suite door left open during their conversation.
As soon as gunnery sergeant Andrew Delis finished his sentry duty at the glass pyramid, he went back to the barracks and changed into civilian clothes, topping them with a temperature-controlled outer garment, snow boots and heated gloves.
He walked to a pizza joint a few blocks outside the marine base and sat at the bar to eat, sipping a beer.
At 2100 hours, on the dot, an attractive brunette with a red scarf wrapped around her neck slid into the open seat next time and gave him a warm kiss.
“You couldn’t even wait for me, honey? I’m starved.”
“Joe,” he signaled to the auto-server, “Bring a beer and a couple of slices of pie for my honey.”
“Now that’s more like it,” she said as she nuzzled his ear.”
She leaned back, sighed and took a sip of her beer while staying close.
It was all an act for the benefit of anyone who might be watching. Gunny Delis cautiously worked for months to reach out to the Book Liberators. But it was clear they didn’t trust him, and he was too smart and too wary to totally trust the person who claimed to be a BL rebel and now sat beside him.
The last message from the rebels told him to be at the bar and when. “A woman wearing a red scarf will meet you at 2100 hours at the Harbor Bar. Code word is honey. Wear red gloves.”
“This bar stool is uncomfortable,” the woman said as she squirmed. “Let’s get us a booth.”
Without waiting for him, she slid off the stool and sauntered over to an empty booth set back in a dark corner of the old, run-down, and very filthy bar.
As he slid in across from her, she jumped up and moved in beside him, running her hands all over his body, obviously checking for weapons while soundly kissing him. He managed to look down and could see she held a tracking device, used to identify any type of recording device or bug. To anyone looking, the woman looked like she was just being amorous.
The sergeant couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Then he lowered his voice and whispered in her ear. “That’s your security checking system? Lady, I know ten different ways to kill you with my bare hands, so why don’t you just stop with the theatrics, okay? Let’s get down to business.”
She stayed where she was beside him and whispered back, “You may have ten different ways to kill me, but I dropped a knock-out drug into your beer and if I don’t give you the antidote in the next five minutes, you’ll be out like a light.”
Andrew could feel the world around him starting to move. He grabbed the edge of the table.
“Okay, you made your point. Now give me the antidote.” And then the world went black.
When he woke up, Andrew found himself in an apartment, surrounded by six masked individuals. The woman who drugged him was nowhere in sight. He tried to sit up, but the world was still kind of fuzzy, so he laid back down, waiting for it to pass.
“Do we have your attention now, Gunny Delis?” an authoritative, muffled voice asked.
Andrew slowly sat up. His mouth felt like it was full of cotton. The woman who drugged him walked into the room from the kitchen and gave him a glass of water.
“Thanks. Now, can somebody tell me what’s going on?”
“You reached out to us, remember?” This from the person who was evidently in charge. “Why?”
“My father is Dr. Argus Delis. But you probably already know that. The king and queen are forcing him to work on the development of sarin gas bombs. He doesn’t want to do it, but they have threatened harm to me and my mother if he doesn’t help them. We need to do something to stop them. And to do that we need your help.”
“And why should we help you? You are a marine. You fight against the Book Liberators.”
“I am serving my mandatory time in the military. Fortunately, because of who my Dad is, I haven’t been forced to serve in any combat units. Instead, I work security at the pyramid palace. My family have always secretly supported the Book Liberators.”
“Why should we believe you?”
“I am in a unique position to help you. I have daily access to the king and queen. I overhear things every day. They seem to forget their security guards are even around and discuss things we probably shouldn’t hear. I will help you on one condition.”
“Here it comes. Frankly, sergeant, I don’t think you are in any position to negotiate.”
“Hear me out. I want my mother taken somewhere safe. My father and I have discussed this. We are willing to take the risks necessary to help stop the sarin gas production, but mother could be used against us and we need to make sure she is out of harm’s way.”
The BL rebels moved to a corner of the room to discuss his proposal. It didn’t take them long.
“Okay. Here’s what we will do. We will fake
your mother’s death and then hide her in a safe location. That means you and your father must make your grief believable.
“In the meantime, you need to learn the BL code, so we can communicate with you. Sally, your contact from the bar, is now your girlfriend and will be your trainer on the code. She will also make sure you will do what you say you will. Sally may look innocent enough, but she is one of our most trusted agents. You cannot afford to underestimate her.”
Without another word, Sally walked over to Andrew and gave him a pill to swallow. He didn’t hesitate. He knew if he did he might not survive. Within minutes, he blacked out. When he came to, dawn was just on the horizon. He was slumped outside his barracks. One of his buddies, Moose, was slapping his face.
As he started to come awake, he could smell beer all over his clothes.
“Boy, Sarge, you must have had quite a night. You stink.” Moose helped him to his feet.
“I met this girl,” Andrew said, as he slurred his words. “And we talked and drank, and drank and talked, and thas the las thing I member.”
“You’re just not used to drinking so much. Tough way to learn. At least she dropped you off at the barracks. Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up. You’ve got duty in an hour.”
Thus, began Gunny Sergeant Andrew Delis’ career as an undercover BL spy.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The Journey Starts with the First Step
Brogan looked at the AI pod given to her by the professor. It had been invaluable in planning the myriad tasks associated with moving people and supplies to the new location for the clan in Oregon. Professor Schneider had done a phenomenal job loading the AI with every conceivable type of information.
“I’ve also added some decision-making algorithms which I think you will find helpful,” he told her when he explained how it worked.
It was early March and the final stages of preparation were being completed. So far close to 150 people had signed up to go with her to the Pacific Northwest. Brogan put together a priority list of skills needed to make a wilderness community self-sufficient and safe for its residents.
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