by Tom Hunter
He hadn’t realized his thoughts had been voiced aloud until someone asked, “So, what’s your plan? I mean, how do you plan to stop Noah and company?”
Thomas considered the question and stroked his beard. “Well,” he responded at last. “I’ve always tried to do my own thing and pretty much leave well enough alone. This, however, seems to be what gives Noah and Miss Welker the edge they need. They are somehow able to skate around me with ample opportunity to infiltrate and upset my…our work.”
“So?” Alexia prompted.
“So, this time, we’ll take the fight to them,” he answered her with a quick bob of his head.
The tension in the vehicle dissipated a bit and the Thomas’s team seemed to breathe a little easier. He wished it could be that easy, and tightened his hands on the wheel once more.
Alexia shot him a sidelong glance and saw the almost imperceptible tension in his hands and murmured softly, “Hmmm…” She leaned in closer and whispered, “But, you’re still a bit nervous.” It wasn’t a question.
Thomas nodded. Without further prompting, he explained in a low voice. “Noah’s the wizard behind the curtain. He has killed. There’s no telling how many bodies are stacked with his name on them. But he never did the actual deed. He always had someone else do it.” He ticked off the associated assassins with their victims in his head. Mrs. Welker. Howard. Ramon. Most of the Woidnuk village. The Kisgar. Lt. Whipkey and his wife. Well, she chose to follow, but still, he wondered briefly if her suicide was devotion or fear. And why abandon Mochni in the process? The question had been haunting him for a while, Thomas now realized.
“Where’d you go, Thomas?” Alexia’s voice broke back gently into his thoughts. “You were talking, then…nothing.” She spread her hands apart to demonstrate.
Thomas shook the haunting cobwebs from his head. “Sorry.” Alexia nodded her acceptance of his apology and he continued. “Now, where was I?” He paused and rifled through their conversation from just moments before. “Oh, right. Here’s what I’ve been trying to figure out. If Noah has always kept his hands clean by ordering the killings, but not doing them himself, what’s changed? What has changed him so much that he’s flying off the deep end like this, though the more pressing part of the question is what does he intend to do?”
Alexia kept her head down, monitoring the dot on the screen in her lap, and didn’t answer him right away. Without looking up, she gave her answer. “Your guess is as good as mine,” she said wryly. “I mean, I understand how machines work. I’m not so much on the people angle. But, know this,” she said solemnly. “I’ve got your back and I know you’ve got mine.”
Thomas smiled. “Right, we all need to watch out for each other.” Abby shot him a look from the backseat that could have bored a hole in the dash. Then, he saw her raise her eyebrows high into her forehead. She was willing him to understand something and he struggled to figure out what. When he looked again, he could see her eyes move from him to Alexia and back again. Oh. He nodded at Abby and turned back to Alexia with new understanding in his voice. “You’re absolutely right,” he said softly. “I do have your back.”
A flush crept her neck as she kept her eyes on Noah’s convoy. “Good.” She smiled, then her face tightened.
“What’s wrong?” Thomas asked concerned.
“I’m fine, but I think we need to speed up a bit. Seems Miss Welker’s caught on to my little ruse and it looks like they’re trying to lose us.” She shook her head. “Unbelievable. This is the desert. But there are still so many places to hide. Especially when you have the kind of equipment Noah does.” Alexia couldn’t help but sound envious. What she could do with their tech.
“That dust cloud is getting bigger, Thomas. Move.”
He pressed the gas pedal until it was flush with the floorboard.
Thirty-Two
The terrain changed as frequently as the weather as they drove wildly across the Valley. Bumpy roads and rocky terrain soon gave way to dunes which seemed to harmonize with the thoughts in their heads and Alexia’s drones. It had been unusually hot, even for Death Valley, and Thomas had cranked the refrigerated air which, for all its effort, only circulated hot air. Their clothes clung to their skin as they held on to door handles, overhead pulls, and straps across the backs of the front seats meant to hold magazines and maps.
Thomas Knight couldn’t see the convoy in front of them, so he followed the dust their wheels stirred up and hoped the wind didn’t pick up in an effort to misdirect them. He prayed they were still far enough away so as not to be observed and as they crossed in the dunes, he was thankful for the singing sands. He knew from legend that sometimes they could sound like drones and offered good cover for the one they followed now; a little dot on a screen. Even though the air was cranked and the windows were shut tight against the oppressive heat, somehow dust and sand seeped through the cracks of the truck and embedded in their skin giving them all a preternatural shimmer almost like glitter. He glanced at the rearview mirror and saw Mochni with his arms crossed and his lips pulled back in a snarl. He was out for blood and they weren’t getting to it fast enough.
At his backward glance, Mochni pinned him with his glare, and Thomas nodded. Our time will come soon. Then, he raised himself slightly from his seat and pressed his foot against the gas some more. The truck lurched forward, but the usual cries about reckless driving were silent. Thomas glanced to his right, at Alexia. Her head was down as she concentrated her focus on the small dot dancing across the screen. The others were in the back, their eyes were closed. Some were half asleep. Some were resting. All of them were exhausted. The fire that had spurred them to action had dwindled to embers as the chase had progressed and their reactions were more closely linked to the possibility, they’d been walking through sand dunes, rather than driving through them. He turned his attention back to the convoy.
Through miles of steep, winding road, Thomas wound the truck first one way, then another. As they got close, he let off the gas and would shoot off along another road. Sometimes toward Dante’s Peak, sometimes toward Palm Springs Valley, and it wasn’t long before he wondered if Noah might have hidden himself somewhere between the two. But, when the cloud of smoke disappeared for an instant, he wondered if they’d dropped toward Badwater Basin. He swore under his breath and jerked the wheel and Alexia’s head shot up to see what had happened. Once more, Thomas let his foot weigh heavy on the gas to keep the convoy in sight.
“Slow down, Thom!” Alexia reached for the wheel and he batted her hand away.
“Why?! I’m a little busy here…” his eyes focused on the cars in front of him.
“Because I think we’re getting close.” She pointed at the train of cars of ahead of them. “Look, doesn’t it look like they’re slowing down to you?”
“Point taken.” Thomas downshifted to a lower gear. His hand was still on the gearshift and his foot anticipated engaging the clutch. He was just about to slow to the pace of the other cars when a voice reverberated in his eardrum.
“No!” shouted Alexia, pounding her communications device. She’d woken everyone in the truck.
“Sorry, guys,” she ducked her head slightly as a flush of red crept her neck. “I lost communication, but I didn’t mean to shout like that. I just…it looks like we’re close; therefore, the worst possible time for some type of interference, don’t you think?”
“We’re well within range, Alexia.” Thomas pointed to the compound. “What happened?”
Alexia frowned as she studied the device and the area before her. “I’m not sure,” she ventured. “But it looks like some electric interference right before the signal was cut which means…” she paused as she considered the possibilities. “Maybe some sort of…specialized EMP field, or one of those cheap GPS jammers?” She raised her shoulders to her ears in an exaggerated shrug. “Well, that’s one possibility anyway.”
Dust had kicked up from the cars in front; a sandstorm of kickback coating their truck. Thomas p
eered intently out the front window wondering who had forgotten to add windshield fluid and cursing the wiper’s ineffectiveness as they moved the dirt around. Somehow, a thick chunk of dirt and dust broke free giving Thomas a chance to see what was ahead of him. He did a double take as the cars were in front of him one minute and gone the next. The entire convoy and their drone had disappeared.
What the?
Thomas gave Alexia a sidelong glance. “Is it possible to shield an area with technology of some kind? Is there anything powerful enough to cover an entire compound?”
“Sure, there’s tech for everything these days. So, of course, it is possible.” Alexia bit her lower lip deep in thought. “Possible and pricey,” she confirmed.
“Did you know…?” Alexia began launching into the scientific principles behind that kind of technology. Awkward silence surrounded her and when she turned in her seat to look at the others, dazed expressions greeted her. She knew the ins and outs of technology and how to speak the language, but no one else here did. She took a breath and summarized it. “It masks things from a distance, but wouldn’t work once you got close enough or knew what to look for.”
“Now that makes sense.” Thomas bobbed his head in understanding. “Now, help me keep an eye out for a good place to park this beast while we hunker down for the day – it’s too hot to move now – and get ready for the night’s adventure.” His eyes lit up like he was telling a ghost story and a dramatic “Aha!” escaped his lips. He’d spotted the perfect cover.
They were barely out of the car when the heat and tensions of the day and the drive boiled over. “Do you think maybe we’ll be able to infiltrate successfully this time?” Pediah meant it as a joke, a snarky comment. So, when Mochni loomed toward him he was first shocked, then surprised, then angry.
Thirty-Three
Pediah wasn’t usually one for sarcasm, but in the field, you picked up things rather quickly. Between Robbie, Thomas, and Alexia he’d picked up a biting wit, but his timing and gauging his audience were lacking.
“What did you say?” Mochni spoke carefully and formed each word through gritted teeth. He lurched toward Pediah, his eyes dark and his hackles raised.
“You heard me,” quipped Pediah, not wanting to give in and to prove his point. “That was incredibly stupid, Mochni! I know you know better.” Pediah raged, his face was flushed. “Because you broke cover, you forced our hand and we had to engage Ramon. Ramon!” his voice pitched higher in shock and frustration. Whether at himself or the Woidnuk he didn’t know. Pediah wasn’t used to being this angry, but Mochni’s recklessness had pushed him over the edge and had put the entire team at risk. His shoulders sank and he looked at Mochni in resignation and shook his head. He wouldn’t put any more effort into his anger. It was simply too much work right then.
“Cool it, Pediah,” Robbie whispered tersely.
“I’m trying. I really am. But…” he held his hands palms up and shrugged. “I just…” he grasped for better words. None came. He had to calm down. He turned spoke to the floor. “I’m not as knowledgeable in the ways of the world as most men. I know less than nothing about Woidnuk legends, the drum, or any artifacts like it, but I do know that patience has always served me best….” His voice trailed off as he realized what he was saying. “Patience saves lives,” he muttered, his body struggling to stand its ground.
Mochni looked like a coil ready to spring and he didn’t want to be in the Woidnuk’s way if he was to flip. Thomas and Abby saw it, too, and they stepped forward as one.
Thomas put an arm around Pediah’s shoulders. “I know you are. I know. Yes, it was terribly reckless,” he agreed. “But, look at him,” he pointed to Mochni. “He’s in a blood rage brought on by anger, fear, and as far as I know hasn’t slept a wink all day. It’s almost like he’s…trying to get himself killed.” Thomas paused. He’ll succeed if he keeps this up.
Pediah nodded, and Thomas stepped toward Mochni. His voice hard and firm and low. “Mochni. Listen to me.” Mochni turned and took one step toward Thomas. Abby laid a hand on his arm and he visibly relaxed.
“I cannot have you in this state. This…acting out. It threatens all of us,” explained Thomas. Then, his voice lowered even deeper and his face darkened. For a minute, Mochni could have sworn he heard his father. The thought passed just as quickly as Thomas continued. “If I think the team is in danger from any direction; the Kisgar; Ramon and his men; Miss Welker and Noah; you or any of the Woidnuk, I’ll do what I can to save the team. No matter the cost.” His eyes lowered underscoring his words.
Mochni shook with unspent rage, but he didn’t move. Something held him. It was Abby’s light touch. His anger dissipated into a brooding sorrow which she tried to assuage with stories of his father.
“I know you remember his stories, Mochni,” Abby mentioned casually. “But, there’s one I think you need to hear again.” She looked to the others. “We all do.”
Everyone nodded as she looked at each of them in turn. “We forget, you know, that Lt. Whipkey was not a Woidnuk. Underground, he was the foreigner; the stranger.” She turned to Mochni. “You, in reverse.”
“He learned the legends; the good and the bad. He studied. He loved. He married. At some point, he became so accepted into the community that he became the Chief. I asked him once, how that came to be and like so many of his stories and riddles before, he gave no straight answer. He said only this; ‘My greatest hope is that my son learns patience. That calmness and stillness are strengths, not weaknesses. He needs to understand why we must think before we act.’” The room echoed a wise man’s words as she spoke and as if from somewhere deep within, Abby brought the story home. “I asked him why. Nothing else. Just…why? It seemed enough at the time. And he said simply…”
Mochni’s eager eyes, deep set into his skin, glistened as she spoke. “He said?” he asked in a voice just above a whisper. “What is why?”
“That anger is what led to Eknom’s Folly in the first place.” Her sentence dropped like a silent bomb on the group; the silence was palpable. No one moved. Finally, Mochni took his leave and left the others.
On a cool, smaller outcropping, away from the sun, he laid down to rest. “I’ll sleep.” His stretched himself lengthwise, lay his arms over his chest, and closed his eyes.
Tensions lingered like a black cloud over Thomas Knight and his team. Mochni was only one problem they faced. They still had the infiltration of Noah’s villa-cum-compound to think of. Danger seemed to lurk in every corner.
Maybe adding the Woidnuk into the mix wasn’t such a great idea after all. Thomas wondered then what he’d have differently and if they’d still have arrived at this position. One Woidnuk or none, we’d still be here, he finally decided.
Thirty-Four
A conga line of cars lined the road up to the villa, which was wedged toward the edge of the camouflage zone, while being just within its limits.
Ramon paced and barked orders at his men. He walked like he talked: efficient, authoritatively, and to the point. A rookie soldier looked askance at him and the look he gave the boy froze the soldier in mid-stride. “You there!” Ramon called to another soldier. “Enlighten your troops that we need to set up a defensive perimeter.” They’d have to get this job completed before he could rejoin Miss Welker who had now caught up with Noah.
Satisfied his men were on task, he caught up with them both. “Glad you could see me safely returned,” Noah said glibly.
The Brazilian stared at him icily. “Do not pretend this meeting is a pleasure. We all know the truth.” Steely eyes stared back at him.
“Do you even know what ‘the truth’ is?” Noah stared up at him, his fists clenched tight as side. His chin jutted outward, giving him the air of a short schoolboy standing his ground in the face of a bully. “I know I saved you for a reason. I’m just not sure what that reason is…yet.”
“You should have told me what was going on,” Ramon said evenly. “I can’t help you if I’m left in
the dark.” His deep voice wheedled and cajoled, two foreign concepts to him. Though deep down he was thankful for the rescue, he wondered if it would have happened at all had the two had been straight with him from the moment they realized the drum’s power. Ramon huffed in annoyance at the thought.
“Well, that’s water under the bridge now, isn’t it?” Noah asked. Ramon shrugged.
“Speaking of sweeping things away, I had a chat with your team, Ramon. They’re a rather accommodating bunch. In exchange for your rescue, they’ve agreed to be paid a percentage of my profits only. No upfront fees.” Noah sat back on his heels, his chest puffed out and his shoulders straight. “I thought I made a good deal, don’t you?” Miss Welker continued. “Really, I wish I’d thought of this negotiation strategy months ago. But, c’est la vie!” Noah waved a hand as if clearing the air of their tensions.
His hands clasped in front of him, Noah was content. Finally, he felt like the Ashbridge his grandfather knew he was and his father swore he’d never be.
“Fine, whatever.” Ramon spit out, offhandedly. There was something he wanted to know, and however he had to get the information, he’d do it. “I’ll keep my word. You can count on me until the end. But, I have just one question before we go any farther?”
“And?”
“Just what is your end game? Care to share the plot twisting in your mind?”
“That’s two questions.”
Ramon snorted. Noah laughed and held up a hand.
“Okay, okay.” He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “The appearance of the Kisgar at Thomas Knight’s dig site was no accident.” He paused dramatically. “But I’ve found a way to control the creatures. I can direct their movements. Their frenzies. Their destruction. I can direct them like a choreographed dance to my heart’s desire.”
