by Kipjo Ewers
“I know,” he said pressing his forehead against hers. “But whoever is doing this may be capable of tracking this jump. If you are with me, you shall remain in danger. I must stay.”
He quickly kissed his mate on the lips, followed by his sleeping son, and then his weeping daughter. He then immediately stepped away signaling for the portal technician to activate the jump portal.
“We shall see one another again in the Awakening,” he smiled.
Adula clutching her son and daughter while the little girl gripped the skirt of her blue dress wailed as the last thing she saw before the jump was the wall behind her mate explode sending him flying.
Captain Obisian’s starship was an even more massive fireball compared to the other two crafts that were destroyed due to its size. What the Prime Minister did not know was that the female assassin did not use an energy projectile to destroy the ship like the last two. Instead, she turned herself into a living torpedo plowing through the head of the transport obliterating everything in her path until she exited through the rear of the vessel.
In the dead silent void of space, she floated in the midst of the carnage and destruction she created. Slowly she searched the sea of wreckage and corpses she caused locating one of the three near indestructible record logging orbs that emitted a signal drawing allied ships to its location.
Satisfied that she has adequately written her signature of death amongst the stars the hooded assassin went hypersonic with a savage grin on her lips.
If she could be heard, she would begin laughing.
CHAPTER 20
True to Erica’s word she was able to save Kyle’s life by reproducing the needed supply of red booster serum to properly make the EVO virus within him grow and spread slowly modifying his body to stop his powers from killing him.
Much to Kyle’s happiness and his parents and sibling’s headache, he obtained the superhuman abilities he desired. His dormant ability was the storing and unleashing of kinetic energy which granted him an array of powers.
To ensure that the red booster remained a mystery to the world and out of the wrong hands, Sophia visited on a regular basis and administered the injection every cycle until he became a full blow EVO.
Kyle, however, did not come out entirely unscathed. For taking a dangerous drug and nearly scaring his family half to death, he was grounded for six months. A punishment imposed with the happy help of Sophia and Kimberly.
The day after they brought Kyle home from the hospital, Brian MacArthur stood on the porch of his house with Sophia for a heart to heart. The mist formed in his eyes as he struggled to get out what he wanted to say.
“First of all, after all, you’ve done for my family, and I …and are still doing … I never in a million years meant to make Kimberly feel like …”
Sophia held a hand up stopping him.
“Brian, I understand why you did what you did, and if it was reversed, I’m pretty sure I would have done the same thing. I’m just a little disappointed that you didn’t think you could come and talk to me about how you felt in regards to that matter, so maybe we could have figured it out together.”
“Well, Grace and I were talking,” Brian said while running his hand through his hair. “And given everything that has happened, we’d like to come …”
“No.” Sophia cut him off shaking her head with a smile.
“No?”
“As your friend and psychiatrist, I cannot allow you to come back to Sanctuary.”
Before he could ask why she placed a soft hand on his shoulder.
“When you came to Sanctuary you stayed in your bed for three weeks. A week after that we started our sessions together, and then a month after that you became Sanctuary’s Head of Finance creating the system we use to this day to maintain the island’s treasury and basically keep it smoothly running. You did that. You also properly trained Indrajit who is doing a great job even though he gets on some people’s nerves. You and Grace got back on your feet, found yourselves wonderful jobs right here in Chicago, a home, and got Joseph and Kyle settled for the most part into their new schools. You got your old lives back, and you are no longer afraid of making decisions anymore because of what happened in 2008, you are not over-guessing yourself.”
“I couldn’t have gotten here without your help,” Brian said with a whispered.
“No one gets to where they are without some kind of help,” she answered back.
“But because of my stupid decision, I almost lost my friend and my kid.”
“First of all, you and Grace have been my friends for over five years,” Sophia scolded him while placing her hands on her hips. “You would have to do a lot more than saying our kids can’t play together because you’re afraid your son might get killed in a possible superhuman fight for us to stop being friends. Again, you would be a crappy parent if those thoughts weren’t running through your mind.”
Her last sentence forced a smirk on Brian’s face.
“You’re going to make plenty of more mistakes in your lifetime,” she concluded. “More importantly you’re going to make decisions, everyone prays that they make the right decision instead of wrong, but if everyone had a fear of making the wrong choices, the world would not progress. I did not lie when I said Sanctuary will always be your home, but this is the right decision for you and your family. I am encouraging you to see it through.”
“Work the problem, don’t let the problem work you,” Brian nodded while reciting her mantra.
“Exactly.”
In the midst of their conversation, a deafening bang startled them and rocked the house as debris, and a body came flying out of the second story window of Brian and his family’s new home onto their lawn causing the neighbors that were home to run outside and investigate.
Kimberly shot up to her feet unscathed covered in glass, wood, drywall, orange electrical discharge and smoke wafting from her.
Her eyes first caught her mother who looked like she wanted to strangle her where she stood. Brian wore the same face as he slowly looked up through the thick wooden cover of his porch as if he had x-ray vision.
“Sorry!” Kimberly meekly shrugged. ”I forgot to brace for it.”
“Kyle McArthur! What the hell did you do?” screamed his wife Grace from upstairs.
“Sorry mom, it was an accident!”
“My room! Kyle, I’m going to freaking kill you!” howled his older brother Joseph.
“You know …” Brian groaned. “Grace and I are still pretty young …”
“I’m don’t want your kid Brian,” Sophia said flatly. “One is enough.”
˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜
The aftermath of the battle in Cali, Colombia proved to be another unsuspected dead end for the Regulators.
Those assailants that did not die in the battle were tightly lipped about attacking the Regulators, how they got to Colombia, and the type of boosters they were using to acquire superhuman abilities.
Because many of them lost their superhuman abilities during the cooling phase, the Regulators could not keep them at the Purgatory facility.
Not having the legal authority similar to the police or F.B.I meant that the Regulators could not interrogate any of the suspects that did not lose their abilities privately or without their attorneys present which all of them demanded.
In the end, Rogers and his team turned a total of sixty-five out of one hundred and fifty-two criminals over to the proper authorities so that the regular legal system could deal with them, while the Regulators stood on an ice-cold trail with no leads, and their primary evidence gone.
˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜
At the Ranch, Rosann walked its halls heading to Sergeant Rogers’s office. As she entered, he sat at his desk looking at the monitor in front of him. She stood at semi-attention and announced herself.
“Sir, you want to se
e me?”
“Have a seat Esposito,” Rogers commanded.
Her professionalism hid the nervousness churning in her stomach as she took a seat in one of the chairs on the other side of his desk. He did not wait for her get comfortable.
“This meeting is to place you on temporary leave unless you can explain to me why you saw fit to take powers from a dead girl.”
Rosann shifted in her seat while keeping her countenance intact. On the other side, Rogers continued to wear his granite soldier exterior as his eyes read disappointment and concern.
“And before you ask who ratted you out, no one did,” Rogers shook his head. “You forget I see everything. There was only one thug on that battlefield shooting anything close to fire, and he had to draw it out of the ground. Right now, Dr. Champion is not happy with me because I chewed her out for not telling me when it happened because I could give two shits about doctor-patient confidentiality. So, do you want to explain yourself?”
“Sir, as I told Erica I didn’t steal her powers …I just touched her so I could duplicate …”
“You forget I know how your powers work Esposito? Those prongs in your fingers take in DNA to work, her DNA,” Rogers asked with a raised stern voice. “Try again.”
“Sir, she was dead any, her abilities would have gone to waste,” Rosann answered with frustration in her voice. “You said you want soldiers, killers …”
“I did say I wanted soldiers,” Rogers cut her off again. “Good soldiers who do not do what you did. They do not take from the dead …for any reason. And as far as being a killer, I thought you’d figure out by now that is a small tiny aspect of what it takes to be a good soldier. You still don’t know why I didn’t put you back on that chopper the day we met, do you?”
Mists of frustration formed in her eyes which she quickly swatted away as she shook her head no.
“Because I saw that you already had what it took to be a good soldier,” Rogers said while leaning forward. “Making you a killer, a competent combatant was a small yet necessary add-on, that and you needed some discipline, a lot less than your brother.
A good soldier is someone who will jump out of a perfectly good aircraft without a chute to save thousands of people below. A good soldier is someone who would defend people against a machete-wielding maniac on her first mission, and still keep fighting even with a blade shoved deep into her gut.
A good soldier is someone who would almost break her neck slamming into a parked car just to save the life of a little boy falling out of the sky.”
Rosann kept swatting away tears which continued to fall.
“A good soldier begins with being a good person Esposito. I knew from day one you had the makings of a good soldier. I turned you into a killer so that you can stay alive and continue to be a good soldier.”
Rosann shamefully lowered her head as Rogers leaned back in his chair. The sound of air coming out of his nose filled the room for a couple of seconds.
“I’m sending you home for two weeks leave,” Rogers decided, “When you get back, if you decide to come back, you’ll be following psyche sessions and evaluations from Dr. Champion, which I will be reviewing and basing my judgment on to put you back on active duty. Our unit is small, and we don’t need you turning into a damn head case.
There is no dishonorable discharge for not wanting to do this anymore Esposito.
So, go home, see you family and friends, and get your head right. Decide if you want to continue to do this. If you do, then be prepared to come back and do the work to get back on the active roster.”
“Yes, sir,” she nodded.
“Your official leave will be the day after tomorrow, I want you here for the unit debriefing at ten hundred hours tomorrow.”
“I did not know we were having one.” Rosann shook her head.
“Maxine is about to put it on the calendar,” Rogers huffed. “You’ll be the first to know that I’ve been called on the Hill to debrief them about the firefight we had in Colombia, and the contents of the alleged crates that we no longer have.”
Rogers’s revelation smacked a stunned expression on Rosann’s face that she could not hide.
“The individuals who infiltrated our base either ratted us out; or we have a leak within our very ranks,” Rogers concluded. “I trust that you can keep this between us until I tell the team tomorrow.”
“Yes sir,” Rosann nodded.
“Thank you, dismissed.”
Rosann got up giving him a stiff salute before leaving. Rogers returned with an informal one. As she walked out of his office, her eyes caught him falling back into his seat and the worn frustrated features on his visage that even his superhuman regenerative ability could not correct.
As she walked down the hallway in her own head, a mini yellow and silver doozer ran around her to avoid being stepped on going about its business. Rosann lifted her head sensing a human presence only to see Oliver waiting for her at the end of the hallway.
He closed the gap between the two of them with a couple of steps. Their awkward silence reminded them both of the first time they really spoke after their first battle against the Zombie Nation.
“So?” Oliver asked.
“Two weeks mandatory leave and I’m benched when I return following some mandatory psyche evaluations that will determine whether I get put back on active roster.”
“That sucks.”
“I brought it on myself,” Rosann nodded in defeat, “I forgot what it took to be a good soldier.”
“So …what about us?” Oliver asked clearing his throat.
She looked at him with an unsure look.
“We’ve been avoiding each other for days, I didn’t think there was an ‘us.’”
“This ain’t Jungle Fever,” Oliver shot back. “I ain't-a pussy like Flipper!”
“I have never seen that movie, so I don’t know what the hell you are talking about.”
“I watched it with my mother when I was a teenager, it’s a Spike Lee movie from the nineties, which in my opinion wasn’t so good,” Oliver quickly recovered. “Point is you may have turned into a psychopathic anti-hero who steals powers from the dead, but you’re my psychopathic anti-hero who steals powers from the dead. I needed some space to process what you did, but I came back from the dead for you Rose, so if you still want this, we’ll figure it out together.”
A simple, genuine smile that he had not seen in a while directed towards him formed on her face.
“I think that’s the most romantic thing you ever said to me.”
“Was it the psychopathic anti-hero part, or the …?”
She shut him up with a deep kiss on the lips. As he wrapped his arms around her, she fell into his chest resting her forehead against it with a look of exhaustion on her face. Oliver held her close and planted a kiss on the top of her head as he dawned a reassuring look on his face that said everything was going to be okay.
Oliver did not see the fret in her eyes, which read that it would not be.
They were fixed on the hooded figure leaning against the wall next to them with his arms folded and a savage grin on his tattooed face that made him appear as if all the skin to his face had been cut off leaving just the muscle tissue.
Rosann closed her eyes burying her face in Oliver’s chest, but she could still feel him staring at her.
˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜
Back in Rogers’s office, his eyes widened to a mental whisper from Erica.
“The crates have finally stopped moving.”
“Location?”
“Caracas, Venezuela.”
“Current reigning murder capital of the world,” Rogers thought. “The one place only a superhuman would go.”
“It’s in a warehouse, sitting within a truck. There are no records on who the owner is, however, the structure shows that it’s being maintained, and it has heavy security. Just like the boat they used to sail it there, they’r
e using cash to cover their tracks.”
“Tell me the boat is registered to Shiro.”
“Nope,” Erica answered. “Boat was registered to Murilo Oliveira, an alleged high-ranking member of the Comando Vermelho cartel.”
“Was hoping we could go two for two ever since you confirmed the weapons used in the Columbia ambush were manufactured by his company,” Rogers muttered his thought.
“It’s still a weak lead,” Erica grumbled her thought. “Whoever supplied the weapons was smart enough to make sure the serial numbers were registered as sold and shipped to the US, Russia, UK, and China. Giving the illusion that they were stolen.”
“Maintain surveillance for now, until we learn who we’re dealing with,” Rogers thought out his words. “And this stays our only line of communication in regards to this.”
“You sure you going to be comfortable with me being in your head?” Erica asked.
“No, but we do what we have to do to get the job done,” Rogers thought.
“Sister Shareef is at your door.”
Rogers looked up as she walked in wearing a white tank top with the Regulator symbol in the center, blue military fatigue pants, and black tactical boots. Her eyes narrowed sensing something was going on.
“You alright?”
“Yeah,” Rogers nodded, “Come in and close the door. There are some things I have to tell you.”
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11:00 AM California time,
Adrian sat in the driver seat of a brand new black 2017 Jeep Grand Cherokee Summit as Taylor Swift’s “End Game” played from a local radio station. He had a look as if he was the getaway driver ready to peel out in the middle of a heist. The Brooklyn born male Esposito nervously looked around as if someone he knew was going to walk up on him on the San Francisco strip.
He jumped at the knock at the driver side door as a curvy athletic olive-skinned female with green eyes and rosy red painted lips with black hair and faint purple streaks in a skin-tight white laced mini dress and tan open toe wedges stood with shopping bags in her hand.
