Descending, he flew to the entrance. Since the rebar he ripped apart some time ago hadn’t been repaired, he passed through the opening and flew down the tunnel, his orange eyes illuminating his way. When he reached the rusty door at the end, he landed and pulled open the squeaky door. He stepped into the reactor core and the door hissed shut behind him. He looked around, surprised.
What on earth?
Hexagonal panels were strewn about the floor and scaffolding had been built around the interior walls of the chamber. With the reactor in such a state of disrepair, Blake decided Victor and Dr. Madison were not working in secret at Orgonon like he suspected.
He closed his eyes and focused on the orgone energy around him. The reactor seemed to be drained, which meant the facility hadn’t been used recently—probably since his battle with Quinn—and the system was still off-line.
If you’re not here and you’re not doing experiments in Portsmouth, then where the hell are you?
Mildly irritated by the apparent waste of his time, Blake walked through the reactor and made his way up to the control room. The door slid open when he placed his hand over the control unit.
To his surprise, the control room was mostly repaired. New equipment and computer stations sat ready for use at the various workstations and the damage their fight caused had been fixed. The air smelled of fresh paint, which corroborated with Agent Bob’s story that the two cargo runs on the Heart of Glory and the Cerulean had been distractions. Somehow, Victor had managed to repair Orgonon without anyone knowing it.
But why? What the hell does he need this place for if he’s got newer facilities to play with?
Blake made his way back through the reactor core of the Orgonon facility and then flew out of the tunnel, more frustrated and confused than when he arrived. Rocketing away from Rangeley, he flew south, using his phone’s GPS to guide him back to Portsmouth.
❖
Blake recognized his surroundings and tucked his phone into the waistband of his purple tights. He flew low over the Piscataqua River and zipped past the Sullivan Bridge, Schiller Station, and the three famous Portsmouth river bridges. Arriving at the naval prison facility, he landed at the front door.
“Howdy,” Seymour said. The other guard nodded at him.
“You’re learning,” Dark Flame replied.
Seymour chuckled. “Damn straight, Dark Flame.”
He entered the building and made his way up to reception, expecting to proceed to Radoslav’s interrogation room. When he entered the reception area, Alex flagged him down. “Radoslav is looking for you. He’s showering up, but I guess he has something important for you. Also, that man gives me the creeps.”
“That man gets me what I need. Thanks for the tip,” Dark Flame replied. He made his way to the locker room and waved his hand over the control unit. The door slid open and he stepped inside. Radoslav was in the shower, singing in a language he didn’t understand. Dark Flame assumed it was Romanian.
He saw two notebooks on the bench near Radoslav’s bloody clothes. He picked one of them up and opened it. On its pages, someone had scrawled random scribbles and words, none of which made a whole lot of sense to him. The second notebook however, gave him more of the puzzle pieces he sought.
The water turned off in the shower stall and the sound of a cotton towel zipping over a glass shower door echoed in the room.
“I am here,” Dark Flame announced loudly so Radoslav would hear him.
“All good, young friend. I have presents for you, two notebooks on bench,” the man replied in broken English.
“I found them,” Dark Flame answered, studying the names written in the second notebook.
“How did it go?” Dark Flame asked out of politeness. Radoslav walked around the corner nude, toweling his torso off.
Sheesh…you’re not shy…
“Skinny man no useful. He writes the scribbles that make no sense. Other man write lots of useful things.”
Dark Flame lifted the second notebook slightly. “I can see that.”
“Is what you look for?” Radoslav asked, softly humming his strange tune to himself.
Dark Flame nodded. “I think so. If this is the rest of the Council, then this should match up with the info Melvin gave us. I think I have a complete picture now. Thank you, Radoslav.” He glanced at Radoslav and smiled, grateful the man had wrapped the towel around his waist before pulling clean clothes from his locker.
“Dark Flame, I have small matter to discuss.”
“What is that?” Dark Flame asked, not lifting his eyes from the page he studied.
“Payment. I am surgeon yes, but I am a businessman, first. Victor, he always give Radoslav bonus when I operate and information is good.
Dark Flame stared at Radoslav. Shit, I don’t have a way to pay him.
“I know you not sign the checks, but perhaps you could find a way to honor arrangement I have with Victor?” Radoslav asked.
“I see your point,” Dark Flame replied. “I’ll figure it out.”
“Thank you. If nothing else for me to do, I go home now to picnic.
“You…are going to a picnic? In December?”
“Yes of course, but not outside. I have family, too.”
Of course you do. Dark Flame’s heart sank a little and he nodded. “Thank you again, and have fun.”
Dark Flame took the notebooks and made his way out of the facility. Launching himself into the air, he flew back to the balcony of his condo to study the notes and compare them against Melvin’s notes so he could untangle the complex web of The Order.
❖
Victor
Alone, Victor sat back in one of his black leather recliners, a glass of whiskey in one hand and a thoroughly abused stress ball in the other. He had removed his jacket and tie earlier and they still lay on the couch where he had haphazardly tossed them.
Running his fingers through his hair, he leaned back and exhaled.
Of course Blake gave me exactly what I wanted, but his timing is all wrong. What monster have I unleashed that even I cannot control?
The unspeakable, gory mess Blake had created for him by summarily executing Nigel Krause would soon become a proverbial noose around his neck when he reported the situation to the Archimandrion Council. He tried to spin the story several different ways, but it always came back to throwing Dark Flame under the bus and claiming he was—or had become—a loose cannon in order to exonerate himself and remain in good standing with the Council until it was time to have Blake eliminate them all…but the time was not now.
Fuck!
He sipped the whiskey and swallowed, enjoying the pleasant burn at the back of his throat. His cell phone rang, but he ignored it. When the call disconnected, his cell phone rang again. He groaned, then set the stress ball in his lap and reached for his cell phone. He swiped to answer and placed it against his ear.
“Yes?” He said, tersely greeting the caller.
“The facility and the subjects are ready for the next procedure,” Dr. Madison said, “but I am not, and I encourage you to give me more time.”
“That’s not possible any longer, Doctor. Things have changed. I’ll be arriving tonight. Prep the test subjects and schedule the procedure for eight o’clock tomorrow morning.
“Very well, Hegumen.”
Dr. Madison hung up and the call disconnected.
He smirked. She only referred to him by his title when she was upset with him.
Tomorrow will be interesting. Just do your job, Doctor, and everything will be all right.
5 | Revenge of the Nerds
Quinn
On Saturday after work, Quinn changed into his super suit and then put on some track pants and a gray sweatshirt. After making his way to the downtown Hilton Garden Inn, he nervously rode the elevator to the top floor. He pulled his cowl over his face and then pulled the hood of his sweatshirt over his cowl. A moment before the doors slid open, he became invisible. Then, he stepped out and saw nobody in the
hallway. The weeks before Christmas were slow, so the hotel’s luxury accommodations were lightly populated. Capitalizing on that, Captain David Prett decided to set his team up in one of the penthouse suites.
Quinn cautiously approached the room. He examined the area around the door and his super vision spotted a micro camera pointing at him. He smirked, realizing there had to be other cameras in the hallway he had missed. His super hearing allowed him to hear the low voices speaking on the other side of the door. Though they were muffled, he immediately recognized David’s southern drawl.
He knocked on the door and waited.
Footsteps approached, and the peephole went dark for a minute.
“There’s no one there,” an unfamiliar voice said.
“Check the camera feed,” another voice responded.
Quinn knocked again, startling whomever was on the other side of the door.
“Open the door,” David said, his thick southern accent making Quinn smile. “He’s there, trust me.”
A man opened the door and looked around, confused. Behind him, David grinned, but his hand was on his holstered weapon.
Quinn shimmered into view and the man shrieked with surprise. Smiling, he extended his hand. “Blue Spekter.”
The shaken man shook his hand and squeaked out his name. “Chris.”
“Goodbutt,” a third man called out, and Chris frowned.
David made his way to the door and shook his hand as well. “Good to see you again. Come on in, Blue.”
Blue Spekter made his way into the lavish room with wonder. “You like it?” the third man asked. “The name’s Walter. I’d shake your hand, but I’m a germaphobe.” Then, he saluted.
Blue Spekter nodded back.
“This is my team,” David said.
“So Goodbutt is…”
“Chris’ unofficial codename,” Walter added.
“No, it’s not,” Chris said flatly, returning to his array of computer monitors. All three men worked at two or three computers on mobile tables, each hooked up to several monitors—all of which showed either static data, images, or ran lines of code in small windows. A fourth station was unmanned, and the screensaver was active.
“Yes, it is,” Walter insisted, giggling. “He has two pairs of jeans that his girlfriend thinks make his butt look really good, so she calls them his good butt jeans. Hence, we call him Goodbutt.”
“And that makes you?” Blue Spekter asked, pointing at Walter.
“Trinity,” Walter said, beaming with pride.
Blue Spekter shrugged. “Okay.”
Walter looked at him with concern. “Dude, please tell me you know what the name means.”
He shook his head. “No…should I?”
Walter grabbed his head with his hands in exasperation. “How old are you?”
“Sixteen.”
“Shit, I wish I had superpowers at sixteen. I’d be invisible in the girl’s locker room!” Goodbutt said.
David chuckled. “Are you two done heckling him yet?”
“No, wait, seriously kid?” Walter asked.
“Don’t call him kid,” David snapped.
Walter nodded and saluted. “Right sorry, Captain. But seriously, Blue Spekter? Trinity…from the Matrix.”
“I don’t think I’ve seen those older movies. How old are you?” he said, teasing the man.
David burst into riotous laughter and Walter’s face fell.
“I’m just kidding,” Blue Spekter said. “Of course I’ve seen the Matrix. But, to be fair, you could also have been Trinity from the Tomb Raider series.”
Trinity’s dumbfounded expression changed to one of pleasant surprise. “Touché.”
Blue Spekter pointed at the fourth station.
“That’s for Wonder Woman,” Goodbutt said, smirking. “He tried to call her Walter’s Woman but she slapped him across the face.”
Trinity shook his head. “Yeah, the fastest way to piss off a woman is to joke about possession.”
“So she’s your…”
“Yeah, she’s with me,” Walter said. “Her name is Tara.”
“Mental note,” Goodbutt said, chiming in, “We only call her Wonder Woman when she’s not around. Otherwise, it’s Tara.”
“So why call her Wonder Woman at all, then?” Blue Spekter asked.
“We call her Wonder Woman because unlike us two data nerds, she goes into the field and kicks ass when she has to.”
David cleared his throat, and the two techies returned to their work. “Water?” he asked, pointing to a side station that held an assortment of baked goods and fruits. “Compliments of the hotel.”
“I’m all set, thanks.”
“Can you do the eye thing?” Trinity asked, peering over one of his monitors.
“Ooooh, right.” Goodbutt said, pulling his head away from his monitors.
Quinn nodded and made his eyes glow for a few seconds.
“Dude, that’s so cool,” Trinity said, his face adorned with wonder.
“Damn straight,” Goodbutt added. Then, he deepened his voice to sound like a movie narrator. “No criminal wants to see flashing blue police lights, but there’s nothing criminals fear more than the glowing eyes of Blue Spekter.”
“I’m going to trademark that,” Blue Spekter said, appreciating the surprisingly goofy nature of David’s team. It was in stark contrast to the polite, organized, and gentlemanly manner in which David conducted himself.
“Okay, guys, let’s show him what we’ve accomplished so far. Trinity, would you mind projecting?”
“Sure thing, boss.” He grabbed a remote and powered on a small projector that was aimed at a mostly blank wall.
“So, do you have a fun codename?” Blue Spekter asked David.
Goodbutt mumbled something and then cleared his throat.
David rolled his eyes and smiled. “It’s Stratman because I fly stratotankers, but I hate it. I only use it because these guy insist it builds camaraderie.”
Quinn smiled. “Gotcha, Stratman.”
David chuckled and gestured to a set of comfortable chairs and they sat down. The two techs remained at their post while Trinity connected to the wireless projector. Several terminal windows appeared, and lines of blurry code scrolled up each window. A moment later, the projected image came into focus.
“To make a long story short, Blue, we’re having a very hard time finding anything useful. You weren’t kidding when you said The Order covers its tracks.”
David ran a hand over his bald head. “We’re actually trying a different approach right now. Tara has infiltrated the naval base undercover and is on her way to the prison-side of the island for a little reconnoitering mission. Earlier this morning we received updated satellite images of the base and we studied them together, so she knows where she’s going.”
Trinity pushed the images to the projection screen and Blue Spekter leaned forward to examine them. He spotted the miniaturized Cloudbusters. “See those funny looking antennas in the four corners of the main tower?”
“Yup,” David responded.
“Those are called Cloudbusters, and they’re updated designs based on Dr. Reich’s research. You can find his original versions on Wikipedia.”
“We found those,” Goodbutt said, “but we didn’t know these little guys were the same thing.”
“We’ve actually found a bunch of them around Portsmouth,” Trinity added. He pulled up several images. “We even started searching other towns to see if we could find them, and we did.”
“Where?” Blue Spekter asked.
“Manchester, Concord, Berlin, Portland, Augusta, and a few more.”
“Then there might be a hidden reactor core at each location.”
“Right, and the reactor core does what again?” Trinity asked, scrolling through the Orgone energy Wikipedia page.
“Stop,” Blue Spekter said. “See that box thing? The reactor core is a much bigger version of that thing.”
“The accumulator?”
“Yup. They hollowed out the tower inside the naval prison and built one of those in there. It’s huge, much bigger than the one in Rangeley, Maine.”
“Yeah, the public-facing satellite images don’t show the intense array field up there. However, our satellites know no censorship.” He pulled up the map and displayed the Cloudbuster array field at Rangeley.
Blue Spekter looked at David. “What is the point of sending Tara to the prison?”
He pointed to an open briefcase that contained ten small, high-tech looking devices. “We need to plant at least half of those transmitters near one of their computers or networking systems in order to infiltrate their network. She’s looking for entry points while attempting to monitor their patrol patterns and catching the nuances we can’t glean from the satellites. The more devices we can plant, the stronger and more reliable the infiltration signal will be between this base of operation and the facility.”
“Hey,” Goodbutt said, pointing at Blue Spekter, but glancing at David for approval, “If you can turn invisible, can you get inside the prison?”
David looked at Blue Spekter with interest. “He has a point. Tara’s pretty good at slipping in and out of secured facilities, but if you can be completely unseen, you’ll help protect our cover.”
Trinity looked at him expectantly.
“Sure. I’ve done it before, and I can do it again,” Blue Spekter replied, nodding. “I’ve been practicing with my invisibility power and now I can make objects I carry invisible, too.”
“Great, they’re ready to go, so the sooner you can do it, the better.” David said.
“I can head out now if you want.”
“Great. Trinity, recall Tara. Goodbutt, kindly tell Blue Spekter what he needs to look for.”
When Goodbutt finished explaining what to do, Blue Spekter grabbed the briefcase and made his way out of the hotel and flew to the naval prison, curious to know if he would sense Blake or not. Regardless, it was time for him to mask his presence and discover how well he had learned that ability from Ana Maria.
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