The International

by Christopher Vale

  Tom shook his head somberly.

  After leaving Kammler’s apartment the two had been escorted from Area 51 by military police. Their car was waiting for them at the gate, tires repaired and tank filled. Tom was handed the keys and instructed not to return. They agreed, climbed inside the car and drove away into the Nevada desert, returning to Las Vegas where they caught a flight back to Washington.

  It had been a very strange experience to say the least. Why had they been taken to see Kammler? For that matter why had they been released from jail? After Tom had driven the car several miles into the desert Dawn finally broke the silence.

  “What just happened?” she had asked Tom.

  He turned to her with a smile as he flicked a cigarette butt out of the window before rolling it up. “I was hoping you could tell me,” he replied.

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  Tom shook his head. “I’m really not sure,” he said. “But I had assumed you had done something when you went into that trance?”

  “Like what?” Dawn pried.

  Tom shrugged. “You’re the psychic not me,” he smiled.

  “What happened?” Dawn asked. “After I blacked out, I mean.”

  “Well,” Tom began, “You just stood there, with your mouth hanging open. Then suddenly you collapsed. Fortunately, I was able to catch you before you hit the floor. I was about to call for help when two MPs stepped through the door and took us to a jeep where we were driven to Kammler’s apartment without a single word being said.”

  He turned to look at her and then continued. “You reminded me of the way you looked in Vietnam, when your body was there, but your mind certainly was not. I had assumed you were doing something.”

  Dawn shook her head. “Not that I’m aware of,” she replied.

  “What do you remember?” Tom asked.

  Dawn stared down at the floorboard. She then looked up at Tom. “Dave,” she said.

  Tom scrunched his brow as he stared back at Dawn. “Who is Dave?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” Dawn had replied emphatically.

  “And that’s it?” Tom had asked. “Just Dave?”

  “Yes,” Dawn had replied.

  Now the two of them were being detained at a black site. Tom was assuming that every agent at the facility worked for the International. That meant that they were the enemy of the United States. It would make it easier to do what he and Dawn might have to do to get out of there.

  The door opened and Mr. X stepped into the room, wearing his customary black suit, and black tie. He closed the door and then sat down in a chair across the table from Tom and Dawn. He gently laid a manila file down in front of himself and then placed his hands palms down upon the table on either side of the file. He stared at Dawn and Tom in silence.

  Dawn narrowed her eyes as she stared at him. Yes! She saw it now. The resemblance to Arnulf, and cursed herself for not recognizing it earlier. Tom drew in smoke from his cigarette and then released it through his nostrils as he returned Mr. X’s cold stare.

  “You know,” Tom smiled as he leaned forward against the table and stamped the cigarette out in the ashtray, “I was interrogating Nazis before you had even grown into your Hitler Youth uniform,” he smirked, chuckling at his own joke. “So go ahead and try to intimidate us.”

  “Intimidate you?” Mr. X asked with a sigh. “Agent Flemming, I’m trying to think of a way to keep two of our best agents out of prison.”

  “What do you mean?” Dawn asked.

  Mr. X turned to her with a did you really ask such a stupid question look on his face. “What do I mean, Agent Williams?” he repeated. “Well for starters, the two of you forced your way onto a United States Air Force base…but not just any Air Force base, the most top secret base in the country.”

  Dawn glanced at Tom, but Tom kept his eyes on Mr. X.

  “Then, after taken into custody, you somehow managed to escape and then broke into the home of a government asset and interrogated him without any authorization.” He turned to Tom. “You’re lucky to not be in jail.”

  “That’s not…” Dawn began, wanting to protest the inaccuracies of Mr. X’s accusations, but Tom placed a hand on her arm silencing her. He realized that the complete accuracy was unimportant. After all, Mr. X was correct about at least one thing, they had illegally broken into a top secret Air Force base.

  “Where are we now?” Tom asked. “If not jail.”

  “A place for your protection while we figure out how to get you out of this mess,” Mr. X replied. “But I’m going to need you to cooperate.”

  “Yes, I’ll bet you will,” Tom said.

  Mr. X ignored him and opened up the manila folder, staring down at its contents. He then glanced back up at Tom and Dawn. “Why did you go to Area 51?”

  Tom frowned. “To speak with Mr. Kammler, of course,” he said.

  “What did you see while you were there?” Mr. X asked.

  Tom shrugged. “Looked like a military base to me.” He turned to Dawn.

  She nodded her agreement. “Yeah, like an Air Force base in the desert.”

  “Who did you have contact with other than Mr. Kammler?” Mr. X asked.

  Tom shrugged. “The MPs,” he replied. “I don’t recall their names.”

  “Anyone else?” Mr. X asked.

  Tom shook his head. Mr. X looked at Dawn. “Agent Williams?” he asked.

  “No,” Dawn replied as her eyes cut away and to the table in front of her.

  Mr. X leaned forward staring intently at Dawn. “Are you sure?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she replied.

  “Look, the MPs drove us to Kammler’s house and then drove us to the gate,” Tom explained. “We were in custody the entire time.”

  Mr. X turned to him. “Don’t you find that strange?” Mr. X asked.

  “Extremely,” Tom agreed.

  Mr. X leaned back in his chair and placed a finger against his lip stroking it thoughtfully. “So why did they do it?” he asked Tom.

  Tom shrugged. “How should I know?” he replied. “They didn’t say a word to us.”

  “Agent Williams?” he asked. “Do you know?”

  Dawn shook her head.

  “Your abilities…” he began, “do they include mind control?” he asked.

  Dawn chuckled. “I wish,” she said.

  “I’ve asked her the same thing,” Tom said.

  “Well, there must be some explanation,” Mr. X said.

  “Why don’t you ask them?” Tom replied.

  Mr. X abruptly changed subjects. “Why did you want to speak to Mr. Kammler?” he asked.

  Tom threw back his head and laughed. “To find out who you are, old boy.”

  “And what did he tell you?” Mr. X asked through dry lips.

  Dawn slammed her palms down on the table. “That you are the son of Colonel Arnulf,” she said sternly. “And I can see the resemblance.”

  Tom pulled a cigarette from his pack and placed it to his lips. “Did you think you could hide it forever?” he asked. He lit the tip with his lighter. “I mean, why not just make up a name? By not telling us something you were practically daring us to look into it.” He chuckled. “The International really isn’t that bright.”

  “The International?” Mr. X asked.

  “Whatever you want to call your little club of former Nazis,” he said with a wave of his hand.

  “Club of former Nazis?” Mr. X asked.

  “Yes, the Nazis plotting to take over the world by infiltrating the governments.”

  “Is that what you think is going on?” Mr. X asked as a smile spread across his lips.

  Tom leaned forward against the table as he blew the smoke from his lips. “Alright Herr Arnulf, why don’t you tell us what’s going on.”

  Mr. X smiled. “Oh, Tom,” he said as he shook his head. “There is no Nazi conspiracy to take over the planet. Not anymore. That died with Hitler.”

  “Well there is certainly some kind of c
onspiracy!” Tom said.

  “Oh, you are quite right,” Mr. X replied. “But America was not infiltrated by Nazis, you invited us in. At least, those who want to control the country invited us in.”

  “Who?” Tom demanded.

  “Who do you think?” Mr. X replied. “The power hungry are attracted to power. The power in this country now resides in a small circle of men and women that quite frankly you were warned about by no less than President Eisenhower himself.”

  “Warned?” Dawn asked. “About who?”

  “The military industrial complex is what the President called it in his farewell speech,” Mr. X replied. “But Eisenhower did not even realize how deep it was.” He smiled.

  “Do you really believe you can give intelligence agencies nearly unchecked power and expect them to not start steering the country in the direction they want it to go?”

  Tom was starting to get angry now. He realized that’s what Mr. X wanted, but could not help it. “And the President, he is in league with you?” Tom demanded through clenched teeth.

  Mr. X chuckled. “The President?” he asked. “The President doesn’t matter. The person sitting in the Oval Office has not mattered since November 22, 1963.”

  Dawn gasped at the implication of the statement.

  “The current President is so scared that we’ll drive him by a book depository the next time he visits Dallas that he doesn’t ask questions,” Mr X said. “He just takes the ‘advice’ he is given and that is that.”

  Dawn could not believe it. “But there will be another election in ‘68,” she said. “A new President. What if he doesn’t do what you want? Are you going to kill him too? The American people will not allow the murder of their presidents to continue to occur.”

  Mr. X shook his head. “If you don’t play ball we have six ways from Sunday of getting back at you,” Mr. X replied. “Perhaps next time we will just set the President up in an unimaginable scandal and force him to resign.” He smirked at the thought.

  “Do you really think you have that much control?” Tom asked.

  “Yes,” Mr. X said. “Yes I do. I mean, your entire agency took orders from me and you didn’t even know my name,” he laughed.

  That’s when Tom realized that it had all been a power game. Mr. X had never disclosed his name just to if they would obey a man whose identity was completely unknown. And the worst part was, they actually did just that.

  “And now you think you have us?” Tom sneered.

  “Actually, Tom, I don’t think we have you. But we want to.”

  “What do you mean?” Dawn asked.

  “It’s really quite simple, Dawn,” Mr. X replied, “The International—as you call it—wants you on our team.”

  Tom laughed. “Fat chance, old boy,” Tom snapped.

  “Don’t be so eager to dismiss the idea, Tom,” Mr. X replied. “We are building a better world. A world of order. A world without war and strife and disease and poverty.”

  “A world of slavery,” Dawn said.

  “Slavery is such a dirty word, Dawn,” Mr. X replied. “But yes, there would be a center of control.”

  “A bunch of white guys like you, huh?” Dawn demanded.

  Mr. X chuckled. “Actually, no,” he said. “Hitler’s racial theories died with him. The racial makeup of the planet will not matter, because race will be a thing of the past. Look at how powerful you are,” he told her. “You, Dawn, could rule like a goddess.”

  He then turned to look at both of them. “That is, of course, the carrot,” he said.

  “What’s the stick?” Tom asked.

  Mr. X shrugged. “Not sure about you, Tom. Perhaps jail. Perhaps you’ll just disappear.” Then he looked at Dawn. “But Dawn is much too valuable to disappear.” He frowned. “Of course, after they slice up your brain to figure out how you work, you’ll probably wish you had just disappeared.”

  Dawn turned at Tom. “I don’t know, Tom,” she confessed, “ruling like a goddess sounds a lot better than having my brain sliced open.”

  “Hard to argue with that, love,” Tom replied.

  Mr. X smiled. “There are still a couple of things I need from the two of you.”

  “What’s that?” Dawn asked blithely.

  “For starters, where are Axel and the Valkyrie?” he asked. “Second who did you call from the airport when you landed in D.C.?”

  Tom shrugged. “I have no idea where Axel is,” he said.

  “Don’t lie to me, Tom,” Mr. X said. His voice lowered to a near growl. “Where. Is. Axel?”

  Dawn’s eyes suddenly shot wide as she stared into nothing.

  Chapter 13

  Where is Axel? The question rang in the emptiness like a bell. She was no longer in the room with Tom and Mr. X. She was floating in nothing again, but this time she wasn’t aimless. She was being drawn to something. Something that had been left there specifically for her.

  Why had she not felt it before? Something had been triggered in her mind when Mr. X asked the question: Where is Axel? Somehow she knew that whatever was drawing her had something to do with that question. Then she found it. It appeared to be a small box of light. For some reason, to Dawn, it felt like a present. A gift left behind, just for her. Hidden but not really hidden. Like a Christmas surprise Santa Claus tucks behind the tree.

  She approached it. Someone wanted her to find this, she knew that much. As she moved closer to the shining box she realized it was less of a box than it was a window. A window to the earth. As if she were looking through an opening in the fabric of space itself.

  Dawn leaned closer as she peered through the window at the beautiful, shining blue planet below. Suddenly the Earth began to rise. No. It was not rising. It was zooming. As if she were staring through the lens of a camera on a spy satellite.

  Her view zoomed in on the Northern Hemisphere. Near the arctic. A building in the middle of nowhere. Suddenly she was inside of it. In a cell. Staring at Axel.

  ***

  Axel was cold. So very cold. He sat completely naked in two inches of water that filled the bottom of his cell. The KGB were not stupid. They realized that if Axel tried to zap anyone with his electric powers while standing in the water, he’d likely fry himself as well. He was almost to the point of taking the risk. Death might be better than the eternal cold and wet.

  He prayed constantly that the U.S. government would trade for him. But would they? He had not been so kind to Mr. X. Would the mysterious man in black prevent the President from making a deal? If the government would not work something out his only hope would be a breakout. He had no doubt his mom would attempt it, but worried she would be killed or arrested herself for doing so.

  At least he had been successful in his mission. Alena was safe. He began to weep uncontrollably as his thoughts wandered to his friends and family. He suddenly believed he would never see any of them again.

  ***

  Dawn gasped. She was back in the interrogation room staring across the table at Mr. X, who seemed confused. Alarmed even.

  “Are you alright, love?” she heard Tom’s voice ask as she felt his hand on her arm. She turned to see him looking at her with deep concern in his eyes.

  She ignored the question. “I know where Axel is,” she said, her voice cracking a bit. “He’s in trouble.”

  Tom cocked his head toward Mr. X in an effort to remind her not to say too much in front of him.

  “Where?” came the man in black’s voice.

  Dawn glanced back at Tom and he saw concern etched on her face. She turned back to Mr. X. “At the moment he is occupying a cell.”

  “How do you know this?” Mr. X asked.

  “I saw him,” she replied.

  Tom cleared his throat. “You did realize she was a psychic right?” Tom asked Mr. X. The man in black simply waved him off.

  “You could see Axel in his cell?” he asked.

  Dawn nodded. “Yes,” she replied. She had to admit her own surprise. She’d never done anyt
hing quite like that before. Locate someone—pinpoint their exact location—with the whole of the Earth to search for them. She had tried, but had never been successful. But then again, she realized she had not done it alone. Axel’s location had been left for her by someone. By a friend. No, not a friend!

  “Alright,” Mr. X said as a smile spread across his face. “You are even more powerful than I thought.”

  “Me too,” Dawn replied.

  “Do you know where this cell is?” Mr. X asked her.

  Dawn nodded. “Moscow,” she lied.

  “Moscow?” Mr. X asked. Suddenly he seemed nervous. The most nervous she had ever seen him. He stared down at the table as if contemplating something. Then he looked up again. His eyes meeting Dawn’s. “Where in Moscow?” he asked.

  Dawn placed her fingers to her temples and squeezed her eyes tight. “I’m trying to remember,” she said. Then her eyes popped open and she stared at Mr. X. “Five blocks east of the Kremlin, in the basement of a gray building.”

  “Are you certain?” Mr. X asked as he fixed her with his gaze.

  Dawn leaned close to him, like she was going to confide a secret. “It might be six blocks,” she said in a soft voice. “I’m not sure.”

  Mr. X nodded. “Five or six blocks east of the Kremlin,” he said. “That’s pretty close.”

  He suddenly pushed his chair back. “I need to make a phone call,” he said as he stood. “I’ll be back soon.” He turned toward the door, but Tom spoke before he reached it.

  “Speaking of phone calls didn’t you want to know who I called when I landed in D.C.?” Tom asked.

  Mr. X stopped just before he reached the door. He turned back to look at Tom and Dawn with a smile. “Let me guess,” he smirked. “Your lawyer.”

  Suddenly, they heard pistol fire. Several rounds. A smile spread across Tom’s face.

  “No, not my lawyer,” Tom remarked.

  The floor began to shake as if an elephant was stomping down the hallway. “What the hell?” Mr. X asked as Tom and Dawn leapt to their feet. The wall burst inward, covering Mr. X in plaster and drywall dust.

  Standing in the enormous gaping hole was a giant gripping a massive shield and wearing armor with a giant blue lightening bolt emblazoned on the chest.