Sleepers and Scouts

by Phillip Murrell

  Ibbles stands before a large television screen and listens to the aftermath of Miss Ery’s. Nick and Roger stand next to him as government officials move around the three in the A-Men Colberton headquarters. The building is small, and boxes are stacked along the hallways as agents unpack them.

  “Do you know that place, Master Sergeant Douglas?” Ibbles asks.

  “No,” Nick answers.

  Roger hands Ibbles a file that he had tucked under his arm. “It just opened about eighteen months ago. It’s a cop bar primarily.”

  Ibbles thumbs through the folder, but doesn’t seem to focus on any of the details.

  “I want to know everything I can about that place,” Ibbles announces.

  “You want me to get my team ready?” Roger asks.

  “Give them the WARNO,” Ibbles responds. “If that’s the Templars’ clubhouse, we have to assume there’ll be surprises for us. How long will it take to plan this thing out properly?”

  “That’s a civilian target,” Nick protests.

  “Maybe, maybe not,” Ibbles says.

  Roger answers the question posed. “Give me a week to get everything together. We can take the Templars, but we’re gonna need all hands on deck. Can we count on the ODAs to do their job?”

  “Of course you can,” Nick answers, slightly offended. “The real question is whether we can survive this in the court of public opinion.”

  “Where are your balls, Nick?” Roger asks. “Watch any news channel. The people want us to put the Templars in their place by a count of three to one.”

  “What about the Abelists out there?” Nick counters.

  “After what I saw today, they’ll either beg us to put him down or they’re too crazy to save.”

  “I don’t think the Templars can even put him down. Assuming they’d want to in the first place.”

  “We’ll figure out a way,” Roger boasts. “He can’t rip our skeletons out if I bite his head off first.”

  Ibbles focuses on the interviews of the hostages and rubs his chin.

  “Both of you get your teams ready.”

  “Yes, sir,” Roger says and leaves to execute.

  “I’ll call Major Ryan,” Nick adds and pulls out his cell phone.

  D2I News is in panic mode. The Intrepid Reporter is about to air, but nobody knows where Claire is. Larry spun up the substitute host. Roland Greer looks nervous as he reviews his notes.

  “You got this, Roland,” Larry says and gives a thumbs up.

  “Thank you,” Roland says.

  He looks to his left at his guest. Despite all the chaos of the day, Julie is poised. She flashes a smile. Roland noticeably shifts his chair away from her.

  “Are you ready, Julie?” Roland asks.

  “Absolutely,” Julie answers.

  “Do you know what you need to say to explain this?”

  Julie smiles. “I do now.”

  “Okay, we’ll be on soon.”

  A producer counts off the beginning of the program. The promotional music and title sequence plays for the audience at home.

  “Good evening, this is The Intrepid Reporter, and I’m Roland Greer filling in for Claire Kennedy. We have breaking news tonight about the hostage situation at Miss Ery’s Bar and Grill in Colberton earlier this afternoon. With me is a special guest who was originally asked on to help explain who Abel is, but now she’s here to give specific insight into what took place. Julie.”

  Julie sits with her legs crossed in a red dress that ends just after her knees.

  “Thank you for having me, Roland.”

  “I guess my first question is, what exactly happened today?”

  The answer flashes through Julie’s mind. She begins.

  “Roland, the Malignant were able to get a spy inside the inner circle of the Templars. The one called Shot Caller was actually named Agent Cooerloo. He reported directly to the top two Malignant on the Ahika.”

  “The Ahika?”

  “That’s the name of the corvette hiding behind our moon. It’s been there since last year when we all saw it.”

  “How can you possibly know all this?” Roland asks.

  “It’s my job to know.”

  “You’ll have to excuse me if I ask for a little more proof.”

  “I have resources at my disposal who gather information for me. I only need to pick the person.”

  “So, you could gather information on me?”

  “If I was so inclined.”

  “And what do you know about me? Just kidding; I’m not sure I want to know,” Roland jokes.

  “Too late,” Julie says. “I know that you cheat on your wife with a woman named Sofia and consider it a perq to your job.”

  Roland’s face displays a mixture of shock and rage.

  “Don’t tell my wife,” Roland says.

  He holds a finger to his lips as he laughs nervously.

  “Let’s move on,” Roland says.

  “So, do you work with the Templars? I’m sure they could use your information.”

  “I don’t, but I would love to speak with them. I actually approached Karen Whitmore a while back to offer my help, but we had a misunderstanding. That’s why I came to D2I. I’m hoping a Templar teleports in here any moment and takes me with him.”

  “You really think that will happen?”

  Julie’s eyes and shoulders slump.

  “No,” she admits. “Something’s wrong with Abel.”

  “What’s wrong with Abel? Better yet, who is Abel? What’s he about?”

  Julie’s brain is overwhelmed with information. She experiences Abel’s entire history, over fifty thousand years’ worth. It goes by so fast that she can barely focus on any one detail.

  “Julie?”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t think I should answer that question.”

  She looks around the set.

  “This is wrong. I shouldn’t be here.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  Julie stands and rips her microphone off her dress. She quickly grabs her satchel and ensures her laptop with augment information is still inside. She rushes past Larry and out the studio. Roland is left looking awkward and stupid in front of millions of television viewers across the planet.

  Julie rushes through the building and into the parking lot of D2I. She pulls out her keys and remotely unlocks the doors to her expensive sports car.

  “I think you should come with me,” Votary says from behind her.

  Julie stops moving and slowly turns. She tries to prepare herself, but even Julie feels trepidation when standing face-to-face with Votary.

  “I want to help,” Julie weakly says.

  “Perhaps.”

  “I’ll come willingly.”

  “I wasn’t giving you a choice. You know more about Father than anyone I’ve met.”

  “I know a lot about many of you. Mr. Johal, Mr. Schultz, Mrs. Chevalier,” Julie lists. “But not you. Why is that?”

  “I’ll ask the questions. I know who you are, Mr. Chairman. Don’t think we’re friends.”

  “I hope you take your own advice.”

  “Hold on.”

  Votary grabs Julie around the waist and flies straight up. She soon finds herself unceremoniously dumped into a seat on a spaceship.

  “This won’t take long,” Votary says.

  Julie feels G forces press her into her seat as the vessel blasts across the sky to the Templar headquarters.

  All the other Templars argue in The Lair’s conference room. They sit around the table as Smith attempts to maintain order. The rookies: Patrick, Zoe, Curtis, and Power, are present, but silent.

  “Where’s Votary?” Jake demands.

  “I don’t know,” Smith answers.

  “He should be here before we decide anyt
hing,” Akio suggests.

  “I’m sure he’s racing back,” Darsh says. “Abel wasn’t able to send him here like he did everyone else.”

  “What was that exactly?” Amine asks. “I was supposed to be off today and, poof, here I am.”

  “I don’t think we should stay here,” Jake says. “How do we know Abel isn’t about to disintegrate this whole place?”

  “There are rules against that sort of thing,” Port says.

  “Like Abel gives a damn. Didn’t you see him slaughter a spy?”

  “I knew there was something off about the cute hoor. Jayden always seemed too cocky,” Patrick says.

  Votary enters the conference room and practically drags Julie with him.

  “I’m capable of walking myself in here,” she protests.

  Votary throws her to the floor in front of the other Templars, all unmasked except Port.

  “Oh, hell no!” Power screams.

  He transforms himself into a heavily armed robotic walker and focuses heavy machine guns on her. Votary quickly closes the distance between them and stands in front of Power. The man reverts to a full human. His crippled body collapses to the floor.

  “What the hell you do that for?” Power protests.

  “So now we take criminal bosses, too?” Smith asks.

  “We’ve always taken criminals. Anyone who can give us an edge. Now all of you sit down and shut up. I’m going to tell you what’s up,” Votary says.

  The other Templars retake their seats and listen to Votary. He moves away, and Power quickly gives himself working robotic legs. He takes a seat opposite of Julie. The two stare daggers at each other.

  “This is Julie Tress. She’s The Chairman of The Enterprise. Most of you already know this. Almost everyone in here has killed people in her employ. I definitely have. I don’t care. She knows things about Father that even I don’t, so that means she stays.”

  “You could have warned us you were coming with her. Now she knows our faces,” Amine says.

  Julie walks in front of each Templar and points. “Amine Shirani, Gabriella Chevalier, Jacob and Kimberly Schultz, Darsh Johal, William Smith, Dominic Wiener, Zoe King, Curtis Winslow, Akio Yamaguichi, and Patrick O’Shea. I know everything I need to know about each of you. Votary has revealed nothing.”

  “How do you know all of us?” Smith demands.

  “The Enterprise has its resources.”

  “Then why didn’t you use this information against us?” Port asks.

  “Because I’m not stupid. The Enterprise can’t compete with the Templars or the Malignant. We never could, and I wasted resources trying to prove otherwise.”

  “Do you know where Abel is?” Seal Pup asks.

  “He’s moving all around. It’ll be hard to intercept him,” she answers.

  “Why?” Votary asks.

  Julie looks puzzled. “I don’t know.”

  “You must know!” Votary shouts. “We can’t stop the Malignant without Father!”

  Julie takes a step back from Votary.

  “I’m s-s-sorry,” she says.

  “This is a waste of time!”

  Votary storms out of the conference room.

  “I feel like Daddy just hit Mommy at the dinner table,” Power jokes.

  “Classless as always, Mr. Wiener,” Julie responds.

  Seal Pup attempts to take charge again.

  “Please have a seat, Julie.”

  Julie sits at the dimple end of the apple-shaped table. It appears as the Templars report to her because nobody sits at the stem end usually reserved for either Abel or Votary. She pulls out her laptop.

  “You should all review my files on worldwide augments–”

  “Can you help us find Abel?” Smith asks.

  Julie closes her laptop and nods.

  “I can help, but we’ll have to be precise. Honestly, it’s best to just wait for him to come back.”

  “Will he come back?” Akio asks.

  “Yes.”

  “Good enough for me,” Smith says. “In the meantime, we need to prepare for the Malignant. Jayden was with us for months, and nobody, not even Abel, suspected him. If he was finally willing to reveal himself, we have to assume the Malignant are almost ready to strike. Everyone needs to stay here. Get your clone drones to cover for you.”

  “Is that wise?” Amine asks.

  “It isn’t,” Julie answers. “You should bring them all back.”

  “Why?” Smith asks.

  “People are looking everywhere for them now. Soon there will be reports of people attacking each other because they suspect them to be synthetic.”

  “How do you know?” Darsh inquires.

  “I have an extensive network, and I follow my hunches.”

  “Hunches aren’t good enough,” Smith says.

  “Neither is she,” Jake accuses.

  “What?” Smith asks.

  “She isn’t an augment, so she can’t join the club. Having a bunch of criminals doesn’t make you one of us. The Malignant will kill her without a problem.”

  Power chortles. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. First, you convince me to join this club after pulling a dirty trick to get me here; now, you’re gonna force me to defend Julie, of all people. I’m sorry, but you apparently don’t really know who this bitch is.”

  “You do?” Jake accuses.

  “Yeah. I’ve even got the scars to prove it. Give her some knives and see what happens. Or a rifle.”

  “We’ve got knives,” Smith says. “Let’s see what she can do.”

  The Templars spill out of the conference room with Julie in tow. They take her to the training room. Knives of assorted sizes are brought out for Julie.

  “Hit as many targets as you can,” Smith instructs.

  Pop-up targets randomly present themselves and fall back down after three seconds. Julie takes a moment to see all possible locations, then moves to the table with the knives. She counts to herself, then grabs a blade. She throws it to her left and hits a target before it even finishes standing up. She follows this up with three more direct hits.

  “I told you, the bitch can fight,” Power says.

  “I guess we have five recruits now,” Darsh muses.

  “I guess so,” Smith admits.

  The Templars, except Power, each step forward and welcome Julie. None seem happy with the idea, but they accept the decision regardless.

  Chapter 8

  “Well, well, well. It looks like the Abelist douchebags out there have some serious egg on their face,” Papa Nutmare gloats. “Their Messiah is apparently a raving lunatic who’ll torture beyond human imagination. It’d be awesome in a movie, but I’m terrified.”

  “Me, too, Papa,” Shattered Blanket says.

  “I’m not even joking right now. This is Jimmy speaking. What’s the government doing about this? Can they even do anything? The Templars are too powerful and apparently get a free pass from every level of the government.”

  “Two of them were cops.”

  “Dirty cops,” Papa Nutmare corrects. “They acted as judge, jury, and executioner far more than they protected and served. But I ask you, my Driblets, has anyone been arrested?”

  “Just one guy. The ex-cop who owned the bar.”

  “Exactly. Also known as the fall guy. He probably knew all about who his friends were. Hell, he was banging the dead Templar for years. Mark my words, the police department will call his arrest as the only one needed. Witnesses will attest that he was the shooter. We already know that shit, but anyone who watched the first part of the standoff and listened to the end can tell it isn’t that simple.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The hostages said they weren’t in control of their bodies. Maybe they were, and they’re lying, but I feel like trust
ing my fellow man on this one. Which means this Carlos Towers was probably a victim, too. Maybe he’s partially to blame, but he wasn’t the mastermind.”

  “Do you think the aliens made him do it?”

  “The aliens left a year ago! I’m sick of the Templars polluting the minds of my simple Driblets with this false explanation. They’re power hungry tyrants and apparently had a bit of a schism. Don’t forget the alien spy was Shot Caller. We’ve seen him working side by side with other Templars for months. I find it too convenient that aliens can explain away his guilt and preserve the others’ innocence.”

  “If you ask me, they should just bulldoze that auggie club. We don’t need it, and I’m sure Colberton residents could do without another high-profile act of violence.”

  “Excellent point, SB. You know that bar will be a cancer on the community until they destroy it. Just like all other auggies and auggie sympathizers.”

  “I wonder how many Templars and auggies hung out there.”

  “Well, SB, let’s look at the facts. Karen Whitmore is dead, but she was Compel. She was also the longtime friend and cum receptacle of owner, Carlos Towers. Since he hasn’t broken out, I guess that means he’s normal. However, William Smith, another Colberton Police Department employee, was also outed as Seal Pup.”

  “Two from one police department. I wonder how many others?”

  “That’s all we can do,” Papa Nutmare says. “But let’s not forget about Darsh Johal. We’ve known he’s Lottery for about a year now. Last I checked, Interpol still wanted him. At least one more Templar has a first name of Gabriella. I’m sure that’s the final piece of the puzzle for one of you Driblets to know her full name.”

  “Anyone else?”

  “None confirmed, but something tells me that Gallery is in on the game.”

  “Really? She’s still touring, isn’t she?”

  “Sure, and we know the Templars have robot duplicates. What’s to stop her from pretending she needs a wardrobe change and instead kills some sweatshop workers?”

  “It makes you wonder,” Shattered Blanket muses.

  “Honestly, I have to fight the urge to close myself off from the rest of the world. I know I’m human, but if ever there was the need for an EMP blast across the country, this is it. That’ll make it easy to know who the phonies are.”