‘I was beginning to worry that the MSS had entrapped you before you had the chance to get here.’ Jazmay stood to be formally introduced to the love of her life, as Taren aided to steady him.
‘I told you there was nothing to worry about.’ Taren smiled, suspecting Jazmay’s concern was more for Yasper than herself. ‘Abi, this is your charge, Yasper Ronan … Yasper, this is Abi.’
‘That would be your mission alias, I assume?’ In the MSS they often used short, three-letter names as aliases. Yasper held out a hand in greeting, but Jazmay refrained from accepting his gesture.
‘I could shake your hand, but I could steal your genetic memory in the process,’ she advised. Jazmay would never carry out such a threat; she was just letting Yasper know what the score was.
‘Abi is a shape-shifter,’ Taren explained, ‘one of her many psychic talents.’
‘Whoa, really?’ Yasper was immediately intrigued. ‘I am honoured you would even make that known to me, seeing that I work for the MSS.’
Jazmay smiled. ‘The MSS hold no power over us any more.’ She included Taren in her equation — she was proud and quite certain of the fact.
‘I can hardly wait to know how you ladies have achieved all you have?’ Yasper asked, his attention drifting between Taren and Jazmay.
‘Well, Abi has nearly two days to fill you in before our next meeting,’ Taren announced, as she backed away from them. ‘Keep hidden and I’ll see you then.’
‘But what are you going to tell my father?’ Yasper wasn’t keen to let Taren face his father’s wrath alone.
‘I’ll tell him the truth, that I’ve kidnapped you for the next forty-eight hours.’ She made a joke of it, but Yasper was not amused.
‘But he’ll arrest you, and if you don’t cooperate, you’ll be restrained!’ He took a few steps towards her, whereupon she backed up faster so as not to make contact.
‘He’ll have to catch me first.’ She grinned and vanished.
‘Don’t —’ Yasper didn’t waste his breath, as he was now addressing an empty space. ‘Damn it!’ He looked back to his guard for the next few days. ‘We can’t let her do this alone.’
‘We can,’ Jazmay said, ‘and we will. She has more power and influence than you could possibly imagine. This is her plan, and we are sticking to it.’
Yasper realised he was quite ignorant as to what was really going down here and was eager to be enlightened. ‘I want to know how she turned from adept psychic into a superhero overnight!’
‘The sooner we reach a safe location, the sooner we will have time on our hands to talk.’ She grabbed a large bag, approached and took hold of his arm through his jacket. ‘Are you ready?’
‘Am I ready to be spirited away to another planet?’ Yasper emphasised how incredible the question was. ‘Does anyone ever say yes to that?’
‘I don’t know,’ Jazmay gave a shy smile, ‘this is the first time I’ve ever allowed anyone to tag along.’
‘In that case,’ he decided to be polite, ‘I can hardly wait.’
‘You don’t have to,’ she said as the room around them was penetrated by etheric light and morphed into a tropical forest walk.
‘You’re shitting me.’ Yasper was euphoric upon finding himself in a jungle resort, through which the tropical waters of the Frujian coast could be seen. ‘What about permits?’ He knew even brief holiday visas were very costly and difficult to purchase and watched in amazement as Abi manifested a visa for herself and him out of thin air and handed his over. Yasper inspected the visa, noting his face was featured but he was travelling under an alias. ‘Will Livingson,’ he read. ‘Very funny.’
‘And I’m Hope.’ She flashed her visa.
‘We’re married?’ he assumed, noting her surname was also Livingson. The cover appealed to his male ego as Phemorians rarely mated with men, let alone married them.
‘Well, I don’t think anyone will believe you are my brother,’ she bantered as she headed off down the tropical path towards the resort — even in the shade of the trees the heat of the day was stifling.
Yasper found her comment amusing. ‘I think even your husband might be stretching it a bit.’
‘Not to worry.’ Abi shrugged off his concerns. ‘People believe what I tell them to believe, we won’t have any trouble.’
‘Why do I believe that?’ Yasper uttered under his breath, quite enchanted by her confidence and fun nature.
She was far more amiable and tolerant than any other Phemorian he’d met; Abi was nothing at all like the stereotypical Phemorian woman, but she was extraordinarily beautiful and psychically proficient. What the hell was Taren thinking leaving me with such a vision of loveliness? And does it matter, when she is so keen to split up? But then, if Taren really didn’t love him any more, why was she risking her life to save his? Is this some kind of test of my devotion? Then Yasper had a horrifying thought. I really hope Abi is not telepathic too. He began to sweat, more from anxiety than heat, as he followed the tall warrioress down the forest path admiring her shapely form. I think I’ve landed in a whole world of trouble … but it sure beats dying.
When Taren suddenly appeared in the chief’s office, right on time, he was startled to say the least. ‘What the? Timekeeper?’
‘This is your wake-up call, Chief.’ Taren strode up to his desk.
‘How did you do that?’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said, ‘all that matters is that you know I can teleport at will, and not just from place to place, either, I can go backwards in time … which brings me to why I am here.’
‘Have you gone insane?’ the chief asked.
‘If only it were that simple,’ Taren said. ‘I am here on a mission you authorised. I cannot prove that until two days’ hence, when my father will bring to this office a security recording you made that will confirm your approval.’
‘Where is Yasper?’ He was concerned to note his son had not arrived for this meeting.
‘He’s incognito for forty-eight hours to ensure his safety,’ Taren advised. ‘That is my mission here today: to save your son’s life.’
‘What!’ The chief was affronted, assuming she was speaking metaphorically. ‘What have you done with him, you enchantress bitch!’
Taren backed up a few paces, not surprised by Ronan’s reaction. ‘Whatever was going on between Yasper and myself is over,’ she stated, ‘that was part of the proviso on which you allowed me to run this mission.’
‘And you agreed, just like that?’ The chief had expected a huge confrontation this morning, as Taren was not renowned for her compliance.
‘If I don’t give him up then you plan to remove him from the time-cheats squad and on his first mission with his new squad, he will be killed.’ She swallowed hard on her emotion. ‘I’ll do anything not to see that come to pass tomorrow and so will you.’
Ronan was looking a little pale, as he knew damn well an intention to split them up had been the entire purpose of this meeting.
‘I know that in this timeline you have yet to experience his death,’ she added, ‘but I assure you, you did not take it well. So distraught were you that you were prepared to send me, who you utterly despised by then, back to his rescue.’
‘And you can prove this in two days’ time?’ The chief sought confirmation.
‘Two days,’ Taren confirmed, ‘that’s all I ask.’
‘I’ll need to call your father and confirm —’
‘No!’ Taren stressed, panicked by the suggestion, as that was a scenario she’d not considered. ‘You cannot, because you didn’t last time around, you’ll change his timeline and I’ll lose my proof! My father will arrive of his own accord and you must not contact him before then. If you do, you’ll screw this mission completely. I beg you, just give me two days to fix this and then you’ll have your confirmation and your son.’
Ronan’s face went gaunt as he considered her request. ‘I’ll send someone to replace Yasper on the mission.’
‘I�
�ll go,’ Taren volunteered; she didn’t want some innocent bystander being killed for her cause.
‘But what about your mission?’ Ronan argued. ‘You cannot take out an assassin and commit a theft, on opposite sides of the globe, at the same time!’
Taren held out a hand and in it manifested a memory stick, which she handed to the chief.
‘What is this?’ he queried, puzzled by the gift and her means.
‘They are the stolen plans of this security complex that you wanted me to steal back this evening,’ Taren explained; being able to will things into her possession saved a lot of mucking about. ‘So, that’s the theft taken care of.’ She brushed her hands clean of that mission. ‘The assassin is another matter as last time around this mission failed. Several of the squad were killed, including Yasper, and the culprit got away. So, I guess I’ll hear the brief and see if I can fare any better.’
‘That’s impossible.’ The chief’s jaw was gaping, as he looked over the memory stick.
‘Have the data verified,’ Taren challenged. ‘It will check out.’
‘You know …’ the chief changed his tune, ‘… I am going to let you do this, because I think it’s impossible and you are either lying, or completely out of your mind. I’ll decide which, when you fail.’
‘But you will not hinder me?’ Taren verified.
‘Hardly,’ he scoffed, ‘then you could blame me for your failure.’
Taren was not affronted by his lack of faith, it made her all the more determined. ‘I will not fail.’
25
ASSASSIN
Is the chief to be trusted? Taren wondered, as she headed down to the mission brief. Her hope was that the threat to his son’s life would keep him onside.
It felt strange to be walking these corridors again, it had been an age since she’d walked them last, and yet now that she was back here it felt as though she’d never left. As she waited for the lift that would take her down deeper into the complex from where missions were run, Taren recognised the staff and waved to the tea lady, whom she had become friendly with over the years. The elevator doors opened and Taren got the shock of her life.
‘Timekeeper?’ The fellow inside, whom Taren recognised as one of her team, stayed put as she entered. ‘I barely recognised you as a blonde!’
‘Mythric.’ She acknowledged him by the name he was known by in this time/space reality, but for the first time in their fairly long association she realised that inside the more aged form of Agent Mythric Zeon was the soul-mind of Rhun, the ever-youthful Governor of Kila. The revelation quite took her aback. ‘The dye was prep for the mission.’
‘But the mission was just cancelled, what’s the story?’ He remained inside the elevator and returned to the lower floors with her.
‘I’m just heading down to find out myself,’ she replied, for if she told him she intended to go alone, there would be a protest.
‘I was told you were in with the chief, and you don’t know what the story is?’ Mythric sounded unconvinced — he wasn’t the time-cheats’ strategist for no reason — he knew when something wasn’t right. ‘You’ve foreseen something, haven’t you?’
Taren had forgotten how difficult it was to pull the wool over this man’s eyes, and before today she had never had to face that challenge personally, and now she was, Taren was failing miserably for she had fully embraced truth as her manifesto. ‘And if I have?’
‘I would want to know about it,’ he insisted, as the lift door opened.
‘You know I cannot tell you anything if you are not involved,’ Taren said. ‘Enjoy a day off,’ she suggested and headed into the corridor, hoping he would accept the fact and leave.
‘So who is involved?’ Mythric held the door open.
Taren turned back to face him, an apologetic look on her face as she held a finger to her lips to imply that she could not divulge that information.
‘Have you got yourself another team, Timekeeper?’ He sounded rather hurt by the notion.
‘No!’ she insisted. ‘Go home. There is nothing to worry about.’ She turned and walked on, and thankfully Agent Zeon did not pursue her.
In the briefing with the chief’s 2IC, Agent Norward, it was revealed to Taren that there had been an assassin targeting MSS agents while on assignment, and that this mission was to be a staged affair, purely to entrap the killer.
‘Somehow someone is getting hold of our mission briefs at the same time we do.’ Norward was puzzled and frustrated by the fact, as he and Taren leant over the strategy screen, surveying from a bird’s eye view the area of the city where the event was to take place. ‘We are staging a presidential visit at the library of Norrodon, using a stand-in for President Tallak, of course.’
Where Esponisa was the business capital of Maladaan, Norrodon was the cultural centre on the far side of the globe.
‘Of course,’ Taren agreed; the real president rarely attended public engagements.
‘Although we believe there is no real threat to the president as this serial killer has thus far only killed our agents, not our targets or charges.’
‘Gee, I wonder why anyone would want to kill an MSS agent?’ Taren said sarcastically and Norward did not look impressed.
The image of the zone around the library on-screen before her had red dots that marked the positions of the MSS agents who would be securing the area for the presidential party.
‘Which one of these red dots represents Yasper Ronan?’ she asked.
Norward pointed to a dot on a rooftop overlooking the library located on the opposing corner of a crossroad.
‘That’s where the killing starts,’ she noted.
‘Have you had a pre-cog vision about this one?’ Norward was well aware of her capability in that department, but she usually only had premonitions about her own missions.
She sidestepped the query. ‘I know that’s where I’ll find our assassin. Do you know anything about him, her?’
‘Him.’ Norward could clarify that much. ‘Vadik Corentin, a.k.a. “the hurricane” … you heard of him?’
She shook her head. ‘Is he psychic?’ Taren asked, as those with the Powers often had a pseudonym.
‘If he is, we don’t know what he does,’ Norward said. ‘But we figure he must have some supernatural talent to be accomplishing these killings without leaving a scrap of evidence.’
Taren was thoughtful for a moment. ‘Have your presidential visit proceed as planned, and I shall intercept the target here,’ she pointed to Yasper’s red dot on the screen, ‘alone.’
‘The team has already withdrawn, as per the chief’s command.’ Norward was very concerned and looked to his watch. ‘How do you plan to get there in time?’ He looked up to find he was alone.
It was a bloody miserable day in Norrodon; the rooftop of the building where Taren materialised had deep puddles of water all over it. Thankfully the rain must have eased as there was only a light drizzle now, but dark storm clouds still blanketed the city skyline for as far as the eye could see, and the air was heavy with the smell of chemicals. Taren should have been wearing a mask, but she found it distracting and it hindered her movement. In her grey protective clothing, Taren blended well with the day and the concrete of the roof, where she awaited the arrival of the presidential party and the mysterious assassin — her sights more focused on the rooftops around her than on the road below.
There was only one exit onto the roof and that was via the rooftop stairwell. As she approached to check it out, Taren was alarmed to hear movement on the other side of the door and, with stealth, concealed herself just around the corner from the exit. She retrieved her phaser from her weapons belt and set it for stun.
The exit door swung open and all was silent. After a moment, Taren noted someone inching out onto the rooftop, and pulled back behind her corner so as not to be spotted. He was not silent enough to step out onto the water-pooled roof without making a splash. In one turn of her body Taren had her weapon hard at his neck, but as
he was wearing a hooded jacket she could not see her captive.
‘Timekeeper?’ he uttered and raised his hands to show that he was not a threat.
Taren swung him around and was baffled. ‘Mythric!’ She lowered her weapon, stunned to see him present. ‘How did you get here?’
He shrugged, thinking it obvious. ‘I followed you.’
‘You can’t have followed me.’ She knew he was lying.
‘Why not?’ he asked, with a cheeky grin of curiosity, and was startled when Taren aimed her weapon right between his eyes.
‘Apart from our superiors, only the double agent who told the assassin that agents would be here today, and the assassin himself, know I am here … which are you?’
‘I’m none of the above.’ Agent Zeon held two hands high in truce.
‘Well, I know you can’t have fol—’ Taren suddenly had a little revelation that ran contrary to her first conclusion about how Agent Zeon had found her. ‘What city are we in?’ she asked out of the blue, but his answer would be very telling.
Mythric smiled and looked around, although on Maladaan one city looked much like another from this height. ‘We’re in Esponisa, of course,’ he replied — probably figuring she couldn’t have moved far beyond where he’d seen her last, in the few hours that had elapsed since.
Taren gasped on the implications of the answer. ‘You can teleport.’
‘What?’ Mythric panicked at the suggestion.
Taren grabbed hold of her upper arm to check her stone was still in place and it was. But it should prevent anyone finding me? And then she realised that her guardian must have made an allowance for those souls within her soul group who were meant to find her. In her heart she knew that this soul-mind could not be her enemy.
‘No, no, no,’ Mythric denied her assessment, until he figured out how she had guessed his secret. ‘We’re not anywhere close to Esponisa, are we?’
Taren grinned and shook her head.
Mythric nodded, understanding his own betrayal and finding it amusing. ‘So, you are of the royal Phemorian line.’
The Universe Parallel Page 40
