WE HAVE CONTACT (The Kurtherian Gambit Book 12)

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WE HAVE CONTACT (The Kurtherian Gambit Book 12) Page 11

by Michael Anderle


  The two of them stayed at this level for about ten minutes before Eric ratcheted the pace higher up again.

  This time, he was sweating pretty hard. Bethany Anne had started sweating about ten minutes ago herself. Eric was showing he had the stamina, now it was time to see if he could put together what John had been teaching him.

  It was time to bring the pain.

  —

  “Gott Verdammt!” Eric breathed hard, jumping to the side when Bethany Anne’s blade sliced through the air where his head had been. Apparently, she was only setting him up to have a one-on-one meeting with her foot. “Oomph!” He blasted back thirty feet, slamming into the wall. Eric dodged to his left as soon as he landed on the floor, knowing from his workouts with John that some sort of nasty shit was coming soon.

  He was pleased to hear a loud ‘bang!’ and then Bethany Anne cursing. The wall, apparently, was hard enough to take anything she could dish out and pay her back for it.

  Eric didn’t stop to enjoy the moment. He continued using the stored Etheric energy he had been piling up, for a week, in anticipation of this fight. He ran, jumped, and somersaulted and landed facing where Bethany Anne would be coming from.

  Unfortunately, she wasn’t there.

  Eric clenched his teeth. If she wasn’t in front of him…

  Then may God bless him for the shit he was about to receive because it was going to hurt like hell.

  —

  Now, it wasn’t about testing, it wasn’t about learning, it was about survival.

  John had never pushed him this hard and Eric was coming up with new reactions he didn’t know he had in him, to try and keep Bethany Anne’s blades away from his mother’s favorite boy.

  She didn’t give up, she didn’t give in, and Bethany Anne certainly didn’t think the session was over. Twice before he had tried to talk to her, she redoubled her efforts, and he got hit six times. It was simply, “Boss…” then, “Ow damn OW fuck-me-SHIT!”

  He learned after the second try. This training session was over when Bethany Anne considered it over.

  And unless he figured out whatever the hell she was trying to teach him, he might be over with as well.

  —

  Bethany Anne was soaked with sweat. It would have been a small victory if Eric hadn’t noticed it while falling from the ceiling he had just rammed into. Now, he had the floor coming up too damned fast.

  God, he thought, this is going to hurt like a bitch.

  Eric tried his best to roll when he landed, knowing her knee might be right behind the abrupt cessation of movement. Commonly called a career-ending landing for most people. For him, and his healing abilities, it was merely painful as hell.

  Yay him!

  He noticed after a few rolls, he couldn’t place her so he looked around and saw her half a room away, bent over, looking up at him with a smile on her face.

  “Are you dead yet, Eric?” she asked, breathing hard.

  Eric slowly stopped rolling, ending up on his back, his arms splayed out to the sides looking at the ceiling twenty feet above him.

  “Yeah Mon!” he croaked out in his best Jamaican accent, “I’m dead.”

  He jerked his head back around to see what she was up to when he heard her walking, only to breath out heavily when she was just grabbing some towels and then walking towards him. Eric barely caught the one she threw and started mopping up his face.

  “Not too shabby Mr. Escabar, not too shabby at all. I think you are ready,” she told him as she offered a hand. He grabbed it, and she pulled him up, “Now, walk off those muscles. It might not cause an ache, but no reason to be lazy about proper methods.”

  Eric nodded his head and started walking, and stretching, as best he could.

  “So,” he asked after five minutes, “you think I’ve got a shot against Gabrielle?”

  Bethany Anne raised an eyebrow, “Eric, I wasn’t training you for Gabrielle,” she laughed when he eyed her with shock. “I was training you,” she finished, “for Stephen!”

  Boston, Ma - USA

  “I’m thinking of something like Total Qubyte Biotech,” the dark haired man, middle-aged but in good shape, handed two scotches to his brother and friend, “Enterprises, of course.” He sat down and considered whether he wanted a cigar, but opted not to smoke

  Yet.

  “Are you thinking ahead to when we grab the future, we can use the acronym?” His sandy-haired brother accepted the drink from him and leaned back in the chair. “Or do the words mean something else, David?”

  David shrugged, “Of course I look to change the future, at some point memory will get dark and dusty and we will be the only company with that acronym left. However, until that time happens, we will have to use the full name. The words obviously mean something, Qubytes referencing the eight quantum bits a quantum computer works on, and then you have biotech related to the manipulation of the human body with nano-technology. Otherwise, what would you call those freaks in outer space, Fred?”

  Fred looked at the two others and raised his glass, “I think the name suits this effort just fine. It sounds official, it sounds important, and I like your thinking way ahead when we can use the acronym and then own the past.”

  The other two men raise their glasses with him, “So, let’s get started on how we can use this situation that’s come about and grab the technology before everybody else does. What have you learned so far, Charles?” The three men took a drink.

  “Well,” Charles scratched his head, “I was able to track down the rumors and get some real information related to what’s going on. I know, for one, many of the international world leaders went on a trip up to the ArchAngel in outer space.”

  David interrupted, “How the hell did they accomplish that without anyone finding out?”

  “I agree,” Fred said, “why are we spending so much on intelligence inside of the government if we aren’t getting our money’s worth?”

  Charles looked at the two men, “Can I continue now?” His two friends raised their glasses to him, “good. So, we understand that the leaders went up to the Archangel, and they were told some incredibly interesting news. Two of the individuals that went with them released enough information for us to get a general idea. TQB is able to accomplish what they have because of alien technology they found right here on earth.”

  “Lucky bastards,” Fred started, then paused before continuing, “sorry, lucky bitch. What about the alien connection you mentioned earlier?”, Fred asked.

  “I don’t know,” Charles answered, “if it is false then we have no competitive disadvantage. If it is true, I doubt we will be able to acquire our own alien anytime soon to help us. Unless you believe the government has one handy stuck in a cell somewhere?”

  “Incredibly unlikely,” David agreed, “something like that couldn’t stay a secret for very long. At least, not with the amount of money we are offering for news. Should it be true, I would suspect someone will speak in the next three weeks or so.”

  “It is another possibility, and if we happen to get the opportunity to grab an alien, or in some form or fashion communicate with one, I’m sure we will take advantage of the situation.”

  “What about the supposed visitor TQB is trying to find in space?” David said.

  “I have two different efforts within the United Nations trying to pass a resolution to force TQB to deliver any aliens to earth, for negotiations and relations.”

  Fred snorted, “A fat lot of good that will do you! I seriously doubt TQB is going to be moved by the United Nations. Shit, we don’t care about the United Nations and we are the ones helping manipulate the politics in it.”

  “I think it is different for those of us who are manipulating the United Nations, than for those who believe it is only run by the nations themselves,” David said.

  Fred shrugged, “It doesn’t take much of a cynical person to believe the smaller countries can be bought. Hell, it’s just the three of us, who knows how many different
groups are doing the same thing?”

  “With all of the rumors about the Illuminati group, I don’t think we want to get involved with too many other companies anytime soon. At least, not if we do not desire governments looking too closely in our business.” Charles said.

  “Hell no,” David agreed, “I pay my taxes, I pay into the political funds, so long as they stay out, I’m happy.”

  “Okay guys, let’s get back on track. We have a name for a company, we know that what we want is to get involved with the acquisition of alien technology through archaeological means. Right now, there are many nations around the world implementing their own efforts and we need to be smarter and more well-funded than those.” Charles said.

  David spoke, “Is there any way we can acquire what the countries have procured?”

  “Perhaps, but it would be rather difficult and if it ever got tracked back to us. It would be a fast trip to either prison or worse. I think those responsible for this in the government are screwing around and wouldn’t be happy with losing something they found.”

  “Yeah, the big countries are in a race against each other, the smaller countries are in a race to acquire pieces for negotiation options with the big countries. The small countries don’t have the money and the scientific skill, most likely, to decipher any technology they could find. Therefore, I suspect we are going to get two or three different major power plays, where countries have joined together with what they have and all work to figure it out.” Fred said.

  Charles took a drink, “I believe we need to start with just two or three members in the company. A president to run strategy, his second who focuses on tactical - physical security and acquisition efforts, and a data specialist.”

  “A data specialist?” David asked.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t mean a research type of data specialist, I mean a computer hacker. We need to make sure that all of our communications are protected at all times. Should something happen, I want everything to disappear.” Charles reached over and grabbed a napkin and put it up to his mouth before he coughed a couple of times. “Sorry about that, I am still getting over that last cold.”

  “What did the doctor say last Thursday?” His brother asked, “I haven’t heard anything from our wives so it must not have been too bad.”

  Charles shook his head, “No, I just didn’t pay attention and take all of the medicine I was supposed to. We are getting older, can’t shake the cold like I used to.” Charles put his napkin back on the small table.

  Fred spoke, “Let’s discuss what happens in the second phase. We have these three members, and we are working on the acquisition of technology. Now, assuming we have the technology where are we going to house this effort? Next question, how are we going to make sure no one else knows we have this technology? And final question, who the hell are we going to hire to research what we have?”

  David jumped in, “I considered trying to acquire Marcus Cambridge’s skills.” The two men look at him sternly, and he put up both hands, “No, no! I wasn’t going to try anything devious, I was just going to try to play to his ego.”

  “Good,” Charles told his brother, “If there is anything we do not want to do, it is to get on the bad side of TQB Enterprises. I don’t think we run the risk of physical violence if what we are doing is the same as every government around the world. However, going after her people is a fantastic way to end life prematurely.”

  “I don’t care to be another notch on her gun handle.” Fred agreed.

  “Do you believe that rumor?” David asked the two men. “That she really is involved in the attacks herself?” He waved his hand at his friend, “I think that is so much bullshit. There is no way the CEO of a company is out there dodging bullets and kicking ass. That is just too Hollywood to believe. Or,” he continued, “too stupid to write. If someone in one of my publishing companies brought that story to market? I’d have to fire them.”

  “Unless the books sold?” Fred asked.

  “Well, if the books sold then perhaps I’d let them keep their job, but they wouldn’t ever move up. Beautiful CEO running around shooting people and flying in a spaceship. I’d bet a swift kick to my nuts that shit wouldn’t sell.”

  Charles shrugged and added, “I don’t know, David. The information came from a previously reliable source. Just because you don’t believe women should be out in the field, don’t let it blind you to what might be a reality. It could be dangerous for us if you screw up because you won’t see what is really there.”

  David rolled his eyes, “I get it, I get it. I won’t let it blind me. However, I’m willing to bet each of you ten grand right now, that her running around and fighting is entirely fabricated crap.” Charles and Fred looked at each other and nodded before they turned back to him.

  Fred spoke, “Okay, add the bet into the book, ten grand each into the pot.”

  Charles set his drink down and leaned over the chair to his left to pull up a small diary. Unlocking a tiny lock on it, he pulled the pen out from the inside and flipped to the third tab. After jotting down the bet information, he looked up to his two friends, “How long do we have before we call this bet over?”

  David answered, “I will give you guys all the way up to a year. If we don’t have verifiable evidence in that time, you two guys have to pay up.” Charles wrote one year in the diary and locked it back up and set it back on the floor.

  Finished with the overview, the three men got down to business and started discussing their next tactical plans for Total Qubyte Biotech Enterprises.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Domus Sanctae Marthae, Rome

  Jorge Bergoglio woke up at 3:45 AM in the morning. It wasn’t too much earlier than his normal 4:45 AM wake up time. Unlike New York, Rome was a city that did go to sleep, and it was usually quiet around the Vatican itself. He preferred this time, there were no distractions with other people and their activity, or what distractions he might have had should he have decided to take the Pope’s residence in the Vatican itself.

  Outside of his residence here, there was a gas station he could look at. Unfortunately, he was just as trapped here in Vatican City as the prisoners he used to visit back in Argentina. He did try, most Sundays, to call those friends as he could.

  This morning, however, would be a little different. His visitor was almost as controversial as some of the messages he delivered each morning at 7 AM in Santa Martha’s Chapel.

  While he was no stranger to hosting a state visit, this interaction might be a little different. He had been somewhat surprised to receive a phone call from TQB Enterprises from their public relations liaison, Cheryl Lynn. Unlike most Popes, Jorge took charge of his own daily itinerary, and he shared what he chose to share with whom he met.

  This meeting was off the books.

  After getting dressed, he went out to the area to wait where he had suggested would be the best place for their arrival. They would not talk in his personal quarters, that would be inappropriate, or a location easily seen from the outside, either.

  He was standing in a small niche a couple of minutes early. The darkness was complete when he could hear and sense, more than see anything, something coming down from above. He supposed it had to be wind running around the Pod, as when it arrived to stop just above the ground he could hear no sound from the Pod itself.

  The doors opened and he was surprised to see two individuals inside, one of them was easy enough to recognize, she was the CEO of TQB Enterprises. He smiled to both women, understanding that Cheryl Lynn had decided not to announce the visit of her boss.

  This should be interesting, he thought. As the two ladies exited the Pod and stepped forward to shake his hand, he noticed the Pod silently rise back up into the darkness behind them.

  —

  The three of them retired to a nearby small office, with early morning breakfast items including tea and some fruit on the table in front of him. There had been some small talk getting to know each other, and it was time t
o move the conversation on. He would be expected to be seen in his normal locations in just twenty minutes.

  “I can appreciate you reaching out to me, and would like to understand how you believe the Catholic Church is involved in this situation?”

  “Your Holiness,” Cheryl Lynn started, “I appreciate you allowing us these few minutes to discuss what is happening outside of the Vatican walls. While I do not doubt you have your own methods of intelligence acquisition, I felt it was necessary to give you a heads up with what we,” and she waved a hand to Bethany Anne who had not spoken too much during this talk so far, “are looking to do in the near future.”

  “And your,” the Pope nodded his head in the lady’s direction, “desire to let the church know about it in advance?”

 

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