The Dark Flame
An Ava James Short
By
Orlando A. Sanchez
ONE
THE GRAND CENTRAL Parkway was deserted at three in the afternoon.
“Since when is the Grand Central this empty?” said Roland from the back seat. He looked out the rear window of the Panamera that raced down the parkway and saw no vehicles behind them. His black hair, kept long, fell into his eyes, as he kept looking at his wife and then behind them.
“They must have known we would take this route,” said the driver. “I can get off and take the LIE, but I don’t think it will make a difference.”
“They won’t take a chance,” said Roland. “They will have covered every route.”
“Do you want me to get off?”
“No, don’t, Seb, the Long Island Expressway won’t help,” said Roland. ““Keep going, and get us to the hospital. I’m trying to keep the pressure regulated but she’s close and we aren’t.””
Next to Roland sat his pregnant wife, Mei. She wore a tan sundress with a repeating Musubi Mitsugashiwa, her family crest. She gasped with the contractions that came every few minutes. She cursed in Japanese and the driver smiled.
“Don’t let them…” She grunted in pain as a contraction crashed through her body. “Don’t let them take the baby. Don’t let them take her, Roland. Promise me.”
“I promise,” he said. “They won’t get their hands on her.””
Another contraction rocked her and she gripped his hand hard enough for him to notice. Her green eyes locked on to his and he pushed her matted jet-black hair back away from her face and caressed her cheek.
“Roland, we have company—looks like they got tired of waiting,” said Seb. “We’re next to Flushing Meadows. Can you use the lake?”
“If I take the pressure off of her, the water will break,” said Roland. Small beads of sweat formed across his brow and he wiped them away. He kept one hand on Mei’s abdomen.
“Mei?” asked Seb. “Anything you can do?”
“You mean besides trying to have a baby, Sebastian?” she said through clenched teeth as a contraction forced the air out of her and made her gasp.
“The contractions are getting closer,” said Roland.
“So is our tail,” said Sebastian. “I would appreciate not dying in a fiery ‘accident’ in the middle of the afternoon. One of you needs to do something, fast.”
“Mei, hold on, I need to disengage,” said Roland. “Take us closer to the lake, Sebastian.”
Sebastian swerved the vehicle close to the guardrail and the large manmade lake that sat nestled in the center of the park. Roland extended both his hands and closed his eyes.
“I need to get closer,” said Roland. “I can’t move enough of the water from here. Stop the car.”
Sebastian downshifted and pulled the emergency brake. The vehicle swerved and screeched, but came to a stop a few feet away from the guardrail. Roland got out of the car and raced down to the lake.
“Move the car, I’ll catch up,” he said. “Go.””
*********
Sebastian turned the car around, floored the gas pedal, and upshifted. The car shot off down the parkway. He stopped a few hundred yards away and waited.
“Hold on, sis,” said Sebastian as he checked the magazine in his modified Glock. “He’ll be right back.”
“Do you think you’ll need that?” she asked. “I hate guns.””
“If they’re coming after Roland, we need to be ready for nulls,” said Sebastian. “Come on, Roland,” he whispered under his breath as he tapped the steering wheel. His white shirt was dark with sweat. He kept looking in the rear-view mirror every few seconds. He shared many of the same features with his sister. His hair, cut short, spiked above him. His eyes were the same intensity as Mei’s— a deep green that earned them the name the jade twins.
*********
Roland stood next to the lake and extended his hands. A wave of water rose before him. He raced back to the parkway with a wall of water behind him and stood in the center. In the distance, he could hear the engine of the car following them. Behind him, the water rose thirty feet and roiled. He looked down the parkway and closed his eyes until he could pinpoint the vehicle after them. He slammed his palms together in front of his body and the water rushed down the parkway around him. He jumped back over the newly formed river and ran to the Panamera.
“Media is going to love that one,” said Sebastian as he put the car in gear and sped off. “Did you get them?”
“Unless they’re driving a speed boat, they won’t be using the parkway,” said Roland, out of breath. His face was pale and drawn from the exertion of moving so much water.
“If they didn’t know where we were, they will now, after that,” said Sebastian.
“No choice,” said Roland. “It bought us some time.”
He went to place his hand on Mei’s abdomen, but she stopped him.
“Roland, my water broke,” she said.
His heart grew tight in his chest at her words.
“Seb, we are running out of time. Call the doctor, and have him meet us at a facility,” said Roland tightly. “Alley Pond is closest.””
“How far away is the Enclave hospital?” asked Mei. “Perhaps we can keep her?”
“Mei,” said Roland gently as he rubbed her forehead. “They won’t let us keep her.” They will implant her memories and train her to be an assassin, an Enforcer.
Tears streamed down Mei’s face and Roland wiped them away. Her face became hard as she grunted in pain through another contraction.
“They are going to have to kill me first,” said Mei.
“Doctor will meet us at Alley Pond,” said Sebastian, ending the call. “Now all we have to do is get there in one piece.””
A small tremor rocked the rear of the car. It coincided with Mei’s most recent contraction.
“Mei, love, you’re going to have to control—never mind,” said Roland when he saw the expression on her face.
“When you start giving birth, love, we’ll talk about controlling powers,” she said through clenched teeth as she took shallow breaths.
Sebastian swerved around potholes the size of small craters that had been nonexistent seconds earlier.
“Mei, come on, hold it together, sis,” said Sebastian. “This is a Porsche not a Hummer.”
“I’m doing…I’m doing my best, Sebu,”” she answered, short of breath.
She grunted in pain and clutched her midsection.
“What is it?” said Roland, fearing the worst. “What’s wrong, Mei?””
“I can’t feel…I can’t feel…… the earth,” she said. “It’s just gone.”
“Nulls,” said Sebastian. “They wasted no time.”
Roland unholstered his guns and opened the windows.
“The baby is a threat to them,” said Roland. “The Enclave doesn’t deal well with threats, real or perceived.”
“I’m calling the family; they can help,” said Sebastian. “Father will not be pleased about this.
“No, Seb, it’s too risky,” answered Roland. “We don’’t know who has been compromised.
“Father would not be part—”
“We’re on our own,” said Roland with an edge in his voice.
“Brother, I have many talents, but delivering a baby is not one of them…Goddammit, get down!”
Roland and Mei both lowered themselves below the rear window.
Bullets riddled the side of their c
ar as a sleek, black vehicle pulled up behind them.
“Shit, they’re using a Shadow,” said Sebastian as he swerved away from the next barrage of bullets. “I just got it detailed, you fuckers!”
“Seb, tell me the detail you had done included upkeep of the wards,” said Roland, “or this is going to be a short drive.””
“Of course,” said Sebastian. “ I had Ghost do them. Doesn’t help the paint job, though.”
The vehicle behind them was a sleek and specially outfitted version of Lamborghini’s Aventador. Used only by the Enforcers, very few vehicles could outrun a Shadow. The low growl of its engine was masked as it raced behind the Panamera, as silent as death. The absence of sound and its angular shape made it difficult to track by any conventional methods, which only served to reinforce its given name.
Roland fired his weapons, two Glock 17’s, with no effect. Shadows were warded against projectile weapons in addition to being made of amorphous steel. He could have fired an RPG and barely scratched the paint job.
“Take the exit,” said Roland. “We need to draw them out. When we get there, you take Mei, and I’ll deal with them.”
“Roland…I know that look,” said Sebastian as he looked in the rearview.
“They want to threaten me, fine,” said Roland, his eyes fixed on the Shadow as he spoke. “They threaten my family? I lay waste to them all.””
“This is a populated area,” said Sebastian, his tone a warning. “A densely populated area.”
“Which I’m sure they cleared out, Seb,” said Roland. “Get Mei to the doctor. I’ll deal with them.”
Sebastian accelerated off the exit and raced down the ramp with the Shadow close behind.
TWO
LAWRENCE MCINTYRE SMYTHE sat behind his desk and contemplated killing his oldest friend. The Enclave Director’s office occupied half of the floor on the top level of the Cloisters tower in an area off limits to visitors, and overlooked the central courtyard. It smelled of old wood with a hint of citrus. He smoothed down his Savile Row jacket before he splayed his rough, callused hands across the top of his desk. They were a direct contrast to his upbringing of luxury and privilege. He always enjoyed being hands-on in the Enclave. Some said it was this involvement, and not his name, that catapulted him to his current position. He pressed a button on his desk and sent a current through the lexan wall facing him. The opaque wall became transparent and allowed him to observe the current operation.
The other half of the floor belonged to the ‘fishtank’. It consisted of a six inch-thick lexan partition, which divided the room. Several monitors hung on the stone wall behind the partition. They ranged in size from desktop to four-foot wide, with the largest ones in the center of the wall. Beneath the wall of monitors sat five long desks covered with nine next-gen computers each. Sitting in front of each computer was an operator with headphones on to prevent any ambient noise from distracting them. The space was completely sealed and self-contained, giving it its name. The operators never left the space and he saw no way to access it. This floor was the central informational hub of the North Enclave. Opposite the fishtank, his office dominated the space.
Adjacent to his desk, on the left, sat a smaller desk that was populated by one next-gen computer and one operator, Rogers. He was a thin man, wiry, with deft hands and a quicker mind. On the far wall, to the right of his large desk and just this side of the partition, two large windows allowed the sunlight to spill into the room.
“Have you located them, Rogers?”
The thin man pushed up his glasses on his nose and pressed some keys on his keyboard. The image of a Panamera followed by the sleek, black vehicle came up on one of the central monitors.
“Is this live?” asked Smythe.
“Thirty-second lag, sir,” said Rogers. “It’s the best we can do, sir, given the distance.”
“Thirty seconds is a lifetime. Do better,” said Smythe. “Do we have their location?”
“Yes, sir, we have them on the Grand Central Parkway, sir,” said Rogers. “It appears they are headed to the Alley Pond facility. It’’s the only one in the area that can handle their special situation.”
“Childbirth, Rogers—you can say the word,” said Smythe as he stood behind his desk and paced. “Get him on the phone.”
“Sir? Who, sir?” said Rogers.
“Get Roland James on the phone,” said Smythe. “I’m certain in that vast network of technology”—Smythe swept his arm and indicated the fishtank—“you have before you, his number exists somewhere.”
“Sir, yes, sir.”
“Good, route the call here,” said Smythe. “On speaker.”
Rogers tapped on his keyboard again. In moments, the familiar sound of a call could be heard going through. Smythe sat behind desk and sighed.
How did it come to this, Roland? You were always so stubborn.
The call connected and silence filled the space.
“I know you’re there, Roland,” said Smythe. “Stop this madness and come in.”
“Hello, Mac,” said Roland. “I see you’re flexing your promotion already.””
“Not flexing, enforcing. The child of every Arch Mystic must go through reprogramming.”
“Yes, and for the good of the Enclave and every mystic, fuck you Mac.”
Smythe removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Did you think that somehow those rules didn’t apply to you? Do you really want this to escalate? Can I speak to Mei?” he said as he replaced his glasses.
“You really don’t want to hear what she has to say to you, Mac,” said Roland as rapid Japanese could be heard in the background. ““You aren’t going to get our child. How long have you known me?”
“Since we joined the Enclave of Mystics—twenty years, old friend.”
“In all that time have you known me to change my mind once it’s made?”
“No, you hardheaded shit, but don’t make me do this! We have to take the child or sanitize you all.”
“Sanitize. How…efficient. Call it what it is, Mac—murder,” said Roland. ““Who is the null? You owe me that much.”
“Roland, I’m not at liberty to…” began Smythe. “ That’’s classified information.”
“Mac, I’m asking as a friend,” whispered Roland. “Who is in the Shadow?””
“Marcus. Marcus is the one in the Shadow.”
“That was your idea of not escalating the situation, sending him?” said Roland with a hard edge as the anger rose.
“You left me no choice. He was the only third-degree on site, and it’s you we’re talking about,” said Smythe. “You aren’t known for negotiation; you only understand force and power. The team you washed away with the new river on the Grand Central can attest to that.”
“Call it a water-main break,” said Roland. “The people will believe you. Don’t they always?”
“That’s beside the point and you know it,” answered Smythe. “We had to create an emergency hazard area spanning the entire Grand Central! Do you even understand the scope of maintaining a dead zone that large in the middle of the afternoon, in this city? Or the damage you caused with that show of force?”
“It’s irrelevant and I don’t care, Mac,” said Roland. ““Force and power are the only tools that the Enclave understand. If you want my child, you are going to have to come get her yourself. Marcus will be going home in a body bag if you don’t call him off.”
“This so typical of you. You never understood the need for subtlety. Of keeping the Enclave in the shadows.”
“Sending Marcus—that was your interpretation of fucking subtlety?”
“Roland, don’t engage him,” said Smythe. “His instructions are only to get the child. If you provoke him, things will get…messy.”
“The moment you sent that unstable prick, you ensured things would get messy. Goodbye, Mac,” said Roland. “The next time I see you, I’’m going to make sure you’re sanitized, old frien
d.”
Silence filled the room.
“Shall I reconnect the call, sir?” asked Rogers. “They are approaching the facility now.”
“No, don’t bother,” said Smythe. “We have nothing more to say to each other and he wouldn’t listen anyway.”
He stood, walked over to the large window, and looked down at the courtyard below. The flowers were in bloom and filled the courtyard with blues, greens, reds, and yellows. The colors were brilliant in the afternoon sun. It reminded him of London, and his youth.
“How many are in the facility now?” he asked. “How many personnel?”
He remained facing the glass as he spoke. Even with his hands clasped behind him, he filled most of the large window. Behind him, Rogers typed on his keyboard.
“Currently, there are ten people in the facility, sir,” said Rogers. “Mostly non-essentials, maintenance, and janitorial staff.””
Without turning, Smythe responded. “Give Marcus the order,” he said. “Sanitize all personnel and decommission the site. Burn it to the ground, and then detonate it. Make sure no one leaves that facility alive. Tell him to start with Roland. Give him thirty minutes, and then alert the Paras.”
“Sir?” asked Rogers. “Are you certain this is the wisest course of action? James is a third-degree Arch Mystic and his wife is an accomplished Earth Mystic, easily a second degree.””
“I know who and what they are, Rogers,” said Smythe. “It is precisely because of what they are that we’re doing this. Give the order. The child is lost to us now. Roland won’t give it up without a fight. A fight we cannot engage in. We need to think about containment at this point or New York will be known as the city of four boroughs.”
Rogers pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose again as he typed on his keyboard. “Orders sent, sir.”
Goodbye, old friend, thought Smythe as he continued to look out the window.
THREE
“WHO DID HE send?” asked Sebastian as he raced down the side streets with the Shadow right behind him.
“Can’t this thing go faster?” said Roland. “We need to put some space between us.”
The Dark Flame: An Ava James Short (Chronicles of the Modern Mystics Book 0) Page 1
