by Peter Darley
“Baby, you have to . . . get out of here,” he said. “I’m holding him off . . . but I can feel . . . the rage. It’s fighting to break through. I . . . don’t think I can hold it.”
“No, babe. I’m not gonna leave you. You made it back.” She threw her arms around him and he returned her embrace.
“I’m so . . . sorry, baby. So . . . sorry for everything . . .” His tears flowed as he broke down in her arms.
“It’s not your fault, Brandon. You didn’t do anything, baby. It was him.”
“But . . . I am him.”
“No. You’re not.”
He struggled to get to his feet. “I have to get away from you. I can’t hold him off forever.” He gripped his head again and screamed.
“Brandon!”
With a roar of agony, he ran out the door and headed around the back of the cabin.
Belinda ran out after him, but by the time she reached the clearing, he’d already reached the trees. “Brandon, stop. Please. We won. You and me, baby. We won!”
But he didn’t stop. She continued after him as he disappeared into the trees.
Forty-Seven
Tunnel of Light
Tyler sat with Emily and seven FBI agents in a helicopter, flying over the Aspen Mountains. His tension was palpable, and he couldn’t help noticing Emily trembling.
The leader of the operation, Agent Clay Jameson, had worked frantically to enable a speedy operation. Procedure had been a considerable impairment.
“What time is it?” Tyler said.
Jameson glanced at his watch. “Just coming up to ten-thirty.”
“Dammit! She left just after six yesterday. It’s a fifteen hour drive, and with the Porsche, more likely thirteen.”
“She’d also have needed time to acquire a transport to this cabin, and then the time it would take to reach it.”
“So? Let’s say she made it in fourteen and a half hours. She’s been gone for almost seventeen. Anything could’ve happened during the remaining two and a half.”
Jameson shot Tyler a sympathetic look. “I know how you must be feeling, Mr. Faraday. But it took time to arrange for the personnel, the helicopter, and to gain authorization for you and your sister.”
“You couldn’t have found this place without us.”
“Actually, we could. Your brother’s funeral was covered by the press. The location is a matter of public record.”
“No, it isn’t. The press reported it from Aspen. No reporters came anywhere near the cabin. I’m not saying you couldn’t have found it, but it’s a vast, mountainous region with no landmarks. It would’ve been like trying to find a needle in a haystack.”
“True,” Jameson said. “Well, we can’t be far from it now.”
Tyler unbuckled his seat belt and edged over to the cockpit. After glancing out the window, he turned back to Jameson. “We’re not. The ridge is right ahead.”
***
Belinda came the end of the trees and discovered a hill ahead of her. Looking up, she spotted Brandon halfway to the top. It appeared to be approximately a mile high, but he seemed to be scaling it like a spider.
She was seized with a moment of dread, uncertain she could endure such a climb, especially in her condition. But she had to reach him. He needed her. It had a relatively shallow gradient and wasn’t as steep as the ridge.
Through labored breathing, she scaled the snow-coated rock, her hands grasping any protruding edge she could find. She dared not look down.
She was reminded of the glide from Carringby Tower to the adjacent skyscraper. The drop had been about five hundred feet. At the time, she’d kept her eyes tightly closed. Her terror had been so extreme she couldn’t bear the sight of the chasm. This time, it was different. Her love for Brandon had made her stronger than she’d ever been. At all costs, she had to get to him.
She’d lost track of time halfway to the top. Exhaustion was overcoming her, and she was tormented by doubts that she’d make it. The stress on her body and her baby’s health were serious considerations.
She realized she had to get to the top, but the only way was for her to slow down. That created an additional dilemma. She had to reach Brandon as quickly as possible before The Scorpion regained dominance over him.
With excruciating effort, she finally reached the plateau and sank to her knees. She looked up and saw a snowmobile, and then realized where she was. The plain at the top of the ridge continued into the horizon. The end was too far for the eye to see from that vantage point. This must have been where it led.
When she’d suggested the ridge to The Scorpion on the phone, she thought he must have suspected the authorities would be waiting there for him. She looked back and could clearly see the cabin far below. It made perfect sense. From here, he would’ve been able to see the FBI should they have arrived at the ridge, and watch for her arrival at the cabin.
Looking to her right, she saw him standing on the edge of a precipice. “Brandon!”
He turned slowly. “Baby, you shouldn’t be here.”
“I’m not going to abandon you, Brandon. I love you.”
“I love you too. More than you know,” he said with emotion in his tone. “But this is very dangerous for you.”
“Why, Brandon? You’re back.”
“For the moment, but The Scorpion is inside me. I can feel the conflict. The rage is constantly trying to take me over. He could return at any moment.”
“Then fight it, Brandon. Fight him. I know you can win. Hold on, baby. Hold on!”
He shook his head with a look of hopelessness. “It’s taking everything I’ve got, babe. What if I’m sleeping and I have no conscious control? I could go to sleep as me and wake up as him.”
“We’ll get help for you.”
“There is no help, sweetheart. The only man who could’ve helped me is dead. I—The Scorpion—killed him.” He turned back to look over the edge.
It suddenly dawned on Belinda what he was planning, and horror filled her heart. “No, Brandon, I’m begging you. Don’t do this.”
“This isn’t a suicide. This is an execution. I’m doing this for you and the countless innocents The Scorpion might kill. I can’t control this. You have to believe me, there’s no other way.”
She came closer to him, unable to stop her tears. “Brandon, there has to be another way.”
He looked around again and his gaze shot beyond her. She turned to see what he was looking at. A helicopter was approaching.
“That’s the FBI, babe. I’d know it anywhere,” he said.
“Oh, my God, no!” Belinda yelled. “Not now. We’re so close.” She waved her hands for them to back away, but it continued toward them.
She turned back to Brandon. For some reason, he was removing his hooded top and checked shirt. Then she saw the astonishing, futuristic armored vest plate underneath.
He reached into his jeans and took out a small, black, thumb-sized device. “Looks like the son of a bitch picked up the key from somewhere.” He attached it to a point at the side of the armor and pressed a sensor on top of the key. The magnetic seal on the armor was cancelled and it fell from his body. He wrapped his arms around his bare chest, warming himself against the freezing cold.
“Please, Brandon,” she cried.
“Baby, they’re going to kill me anyway for The Scorpion’s atrocities. I’ll get the death penalty.” He looked away and chuckled lightly.
“What’s so funny?”
“It’s something The Scorpion said once. It’s probably the only thing I agree with him on.”
“What’s that?”
“Nobody takes me down but me.”
She quickened her pace toward him in the grip of desperation. “Brandon, please. Don’t do this. Don’t die.”
A look of peace came across his face, and he smiled the most loving smile she had ever seen. He gestured to her protruding abdomen with an inexplicably confident serenity. “I’m not gonna die.”
Reaching out bot
h arms, he closed his eyes, and leaned back over the precipice.
“Brandon, no!” She ran to the edge, but she was too late. She reached out for him hopelessly, keeping her gaze on his as he descended. “No!”
She was startled as a familiar sound filled the air. Once again, the mournful cry of the bear echoed across the canyon.
Tyler looked on through the window horrified as the helicopter landed. “Oh, God, no!”
Emily got out of her seat and moved over to where Tyler was looking. “What happened?”
“He’s gone. Brandon jumped.” He saw her tears welling up, and a sinking feeling gripped his stomach.
“Is Belinda OK?” Emily said.
“She looks fine to me.”
“That means he didn’t hurt her. If he took his own life rather than hers, it can only mean his other self returned. I can feel it.”
Tyler took Emily in his arms as the helicopter door opened. He glanced behind him to see Jameson and the men preparing to get off.
“We have to go,” Emily said. “Belinda needs us.”
“You’re right.”
Tyler and Emily joined the agents and stepped down onto the snow.
***
The Interceptor remained in a mutual throat lock with The Scorpion as they sank through the void.
And then suddenly, The Scorpion vanished. The Interceptor glanced, bewildered, at his empty hands.
He stopped sinking and stood, confused. He looked around the darkness, but there was nothing.
And then, a brilliance filled the void. He turned to it, but despite its brightness, it was easy to gaze upon. It was irresistible. It rapidly took shape and became a tunnel of light. He stepped toward it, drawn to its inimitable magnificence.
Images—scenes from his life—flashed before him at the end of the tunnel. Both lives. It seemed so strange to him. He saw his own life, his mother Annabelle, his father, Major Howard Drake, and his malevolent grandfather. He saw Belinda and Tyler and scenes of their countless escapades.
Running simultaneously, he saw The Scorpion’s life. He watched, fascinated, as the horror of his natural father stabbing his mother to death before hanging himself, played out before him. He witnessed the cruelty he’d endured at the hands of Joe Cassidy, his arrests, court appearances, and the battles he’d fought with the Eighty-Second Airborne Division.
The visions of his duel lives continued right up to scene at the mountaintop and him throwing himself off. It all seemed so long ago now.
But the visions didn’t stop there . . .
His parallel life scenes merged into one. He saw a young boy with blond hair and kind eyes. Instinctively, he knew it was his son.
He watched as the boy grew into a young man. He seemed to be wearing the armor from the hologram at Mach Industries, and he was helping people. There was a beautiful young blonde woman and an earthquake. The young man was trying to get her to safety while wearing the armor. Then he was flying into what looked like a volcano trying to retrieve something. The technology The Interceptor was seeing seemed so unbelievable it filled him with awe.
Seeing his son’s life before him made no sense, and yet it felt so right. He knew it. “I love you, Son,” he whispered. “I am so proud of you. Be what I never had the chance to be.”
The light suddenly disappeared and he found himself inside some kind of a technological complex. Intrigued, he walked toward a window with the stars of the night sky beyond. He braced his palms against the glass and gazed into the cosmos. Looking to his right, he realized it wasn’t the night sky he was looking at. The Planet Earth was below him.
Then he understood. He wasn’t really there. He was seeing through his son’s eyes. This was a scene from his life. He couldn’t imagine the circumstances under which his son could find himself in such an extraordinary place. Nevertheless, he gazed longingly at the vision of the earth.
He felt a dark veil falling upon him, but it didn’t seem to matter. He smiled his last, knowing that somehow, some way—he would find his way home.
Epilogue
Nine years later
May 14th, 2025
Belinda tapped her foot impatiently on a tile while sitting outside the principal’s office at the school her son attended in Dallas. What did he want to see her about?
As she waited, she occupied her mind thinking about what had happened through the years to bring her to this point. The memories: the ones she wanted to remember, and the ones she couldn’t forget. The friends and enemies.
She smiled when she thought about how important Jed Crane once was in the lives of those she loved, and how he’d virtually saved the CIA.
Sadly, Charlton Faraday passed away in 2023, leaving Tyler in control of the Faraday Corporation. Supported by many company directors, the corporation thrived. However, Tyler’s grief over his father’s death, and Nikki being on tour much of the time, eventually took its toll on their relationship. After seven years, they finally parted. A year passed before Tyler returned to his former, highly-motivated self. Belinda encouraged B. J., as Brandon, Jr. came to be called, to spend as much time with his uncle as possible. Not only did it help Ty, it gave her son the father-figure he needed.
Emily was in a relationship of sorts with Jake, the guy she’d met at the shelter. He’d gotten a job as a software engineer. They appeared to be in love, but Belinda knew Em wasn’t quite ready to make a lasting commitment. For the time being, she, Belinda, and B.J. lived at the Faraday ranch. She didn’t expect that to change as long as Tyler welcomed them.
A month ago, David Spicer came back into her life. He asked her out and she’d accepted. Her first instinct had been to decline, but eventually she realized she had to get on with her life. She had enormous regard for David. He’d been kind to her in the past, and had participated in rescuing her from a psychopath. His relationship with Rachel ultimately faded after he retired from the service in 2021 to become a semi-pro golfer. He’d chosen the peaceful life after two decades on the battlefield. She almost laughed out loud thinking about the day he’d knocked on the door and handed her five hundred dollars, asking her to give it to her son. “I owed it to Brandon from a poker game, and now I want to pay it back. I want B. J. to have it.”
She came back to the present as her name was called and was soon sitting with the principal in his office.
“Well, Ms. Reese. You should be very proud,” Principal Doug Hinckley said. “Brandon is top of most of his classes. It’s really remarkable, although he struggles with math. But in all other subjects, nobody can touch him. He’s extraordinarily creative.”
Belinda flicked a strand of her dyed-blonde hair from her eyes. “I sucked at math too. I don’t really think it’s much of an issue.”
“Ms. Reese, we suspect Brandon is a potential genius. Have you ever considered having him tested for his IQ?”
“No, I haven’t, and I don’t care about that. I just want him to be happy.”
“I understand, but he has such potential. I’d like to suggest that you consider allowing him to attend classes that are more challenging.”
“That seems reasonable, but I am more interested in how he interacts with the other pupils.”
Hinckley smiled with utmost professionalism. “Ms. Reese, Brandon is extremely popular. The other pupils gravitate toward him because of his father. They all read comic books, and to them, he’s the son of The Interceptor.”
Belinda looked away, deep in thought. Brandon, Jr. bore such a striking resemblance to his father. It often crossed her mind that he might have been more than just his son. She couldn’t forget the look of confidence and peace in Brandon’s eyes on the mountaintop. He seemed fearless, as though somehow, he knew he would return. But return as whom, or what?
Or was her mind playing tricks on her? The first time she’d believed Brandon was dead, when the SUV exploded, her belief was based on her own misapprehension. The second time, when the Turbo Swan crashed, it was a faked death set up by Wilmot. She questioned whet
her something about all of it had affected her perception. Had it led her to think the idea of Brandon dying wasn’t possible? Stop it, Belinda. That’s ridiculous.
***
Heather Addison nervously walked across the school playground with a satchel containing her books and lunch box. Her unkempt, golden blonde hair and pre-used clothing suggested poverty. At eight years old, a wallflower, and not particularly popular, she was terribly shy. Coming from a poor family, she suffered at the hands of bullies with their cruel jibes.
Sitting down on a bench, she watched as the children played with one another, running and frolicking across the yard. It was the end of the day and they were all waiting for their parents to collect them. She felt so distant, as though it was a world in which she had no place.
She was startled as her satchel was snatched from her. “Hey!” She looked up and saw three older boys standing over her. The biggest was holding her satchel, smiling cruelly. “Give it back,” she said.
The boy laughed. “How much will you pay me? Oh, I forgot. Poor little Heather hasn’t got any money.”
Heather stood, but the boy held her satchel out of her reach. He threw it to one of the other boys. Heather reached for it again, but the boy threw it to the other.
Suddenly, a shadow fell upon them. “Give it back to her.”
Heather looked past them to see a familiar eight-year-old boy standing behind them. His blond hair and dazzling green eyes gave him an almost-angelic appearance.
“Beat it, Drake, this don’t concern you,” the bigger boy said.
The blond boy stepped toward them slowly with an avenging look in his eyes. “I said . . . give it back to her.”
Belinda came down the school steps, her mind filled with thoughts. As she came to the bottom, she looked to her left and saw a crowd of children huddled around a spot close to the playground bench. Curiously, she walked forward.
She made her way through the crowd of children and saw three boys on the ground, unconscious. She caught the eye of a little girl. “What happened?”
