“I’ve got to go...I’ll call you later,” Damba said into the phone.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt you,” Flip said. “Just wanted to remind you to remove the tags from your clothes before packing them.”
Damba nodded, a look of surprise and embarrassment still on his face. “Sur..sure thing,” he stammered.
“Trying out your new phone?” Flip asked, suddenly concerned by how odd Damba was acting.
“Ah, yeah. That was my friend, Zunga. He’s the one that owns the supply ship I told you about. I just wanted him to know I had a new phone. That’s all.”
“Sure that makes sense,” Flip answered, but something about the look on Damba’s face suggested he wasn’t telling the whole truth. “Anything else?”
“No,” Damba replied, chuckling nervously. “I’ll remove all the tags tonight before I turn in. And thanks again, Mr. MacDougal, for your generosity.”
“Happy to do it...and I think it would be fine if you started calling me Flip. Everyone else does.”
“Sure, Flip. I can do that. Well, good night.”
Flip turned to leave, then stopped and looked back at the boy. "Everything okay? Anything you want to tell me?"
Damba hesitated, a troubled look passing across his face before he smiled and answered, “No, everything is fine. I’m looking forward to our trip.”
Flip opened Denise’s apartment with the spare key she had given him. He found a note from her on the kitchen table letting him know that she and Bridgette had gone shopping for a few additional items in preparation for his trip. He smiled as he read the message. It felt good to know that the two women were in his corner, helping him.
Their shopping also gave him some time to himself. He strolled into the kitchen with barely a limp. He couldn't remember the last time he'd walked with so little effort. While the healing session had left him tired, it also left him pain-free. He pulled a bottle of beer from the fridge before returning to the living room where he'd established his space in the lounge chair Denise had insisted on buying him.
“Every man needs his own lounger,” she’d said, “and that includes my man.”
Flip sat down in the overstuffed, leather upholstered chair, twisted the top off the beer bottle, and took several long swallows before pulling out his phone. No time like the present to make that call to Albert Bessler that he promised to make. He pulled up the number and made the connection.
The phone rang several times without anyone picking it up or it going to voicemail. Flip was about to hang up when he heard the click at the other end. Several more seconds elapsed before he heard the guttural voice of an old man.
"About time you called," Alfred Bessler said without bothering with an introduction.
“How’d you know it was me?” Flip asked as he took another sip of beer.
"Please, let's not waste our time with such trivia," came the reply back. Social niceties were apparently not part of Albert's skills.
“Okay,” Flip replied, a bit taken aback. “That little incident that you apparently observed between my daughter in me was a simple mistake on her part. A matter of some crossed nerves that confused her; that’s all.”
“Really?” Albert replied, sounding momentarily interested. “And that’s what you want to talk with me about; your perversions with your daughter?”
“Well, no.” Flip felt his face begin to flush with a mixture of embarrassment and growing anger. “I just wanted to explain...in case you had a misconceived notion...”
“I couldn’t care less,” Albert replied, the tone of disinterest returning. “I only gave Chunk permission to provide you with my number because of our long-term relationship and his insistence that you were an interesting case that would assist my research. So, please, to the point.”
"Okay," Flip replied after taking a couple of deep breaths. Chunk had warned him that Albert wasn't the easiest person with whom to get along. "I need to know what I can do to strengthen my psychic connection with my children."
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Albert said. “I understand from Chunk that your ability to make such connections is only with these kids; I believe he referred to them as the Kindred?”
“Yes, that’s right,” Flip replied.
“And that this psychic connection is not the only special skill that these kids have demonstrated?”
“Yes, that’s also correct.” Flip wondered just how much Chunk had shared with his old friend.
“But you haven’t demonstrated any other special powers yourself?”
Flip thought about that question for a moment before replying. "No, not really," but then changed his mind and added, "Well, sometimes, when I connect, I feel like I travel to the location...at least that has happened between Alp and myself, the daughter who..."
“I know who Alp is,” Albert interrupted. “Tell me about this ’traveling sensation.’”
Flip described it to the best of his ability. Albert asked an occasional question for further clarification.
Finally, he said, "It does sound like you've established a form of remote viewing, though not like the typical cases of which I am aware. I imagine that may be due to the paternal connection you share with Alp, and probably with the other children."
“So, how can I strengthen that connection?” Flip asked.
“Well, that is the question, isn’t it?” Albert replied. “Certainly practice, alone, will help, but I imagine you’ve been doing that, haven’t you?”
“Yes, well at least trying to, but not with much success,” Flip said.
"A key part of remote viewing is a clear and clean mind. That includes drinking only the purest water and avoiding alcohol. I found when I became a vegan that my mental clarity improved tremendously in a matter of a week or two."
Flip groaned as he stared at the beer in his hand. He enjoyed the occasional drink, be it beer, wine or something stronger. He also loved meat of all types and recipes, but most distressing was the idea that Albert’s suggestions might take so long. He needed something now, not something that might work over weeks of depriving himself of the joys of alcohol and a meat diet.
“What about drugs?”
“What about them?” Albert replied.
“Well, I’ve read accounts where certain drugs can improve mental clarity.”
"Yeah, well that's hogwash. Plenty of research was conducted during the Stargate Project to find a shortcut, including the use of drugs, but it never led anywhere. One of the problems is that when a drug is used, then the drug ends up in charge of the experience. If the drug is in control of the session, then the person is not. In other words, your perception will be influenced by the drug, not enhanced.”
“Not even over the short-term?”
"Well..." Albert left the word dangling before continuing. "Believe me; the best route is the clean and clear one. Besides improving your remote viewing abilities, you get the bonus of living much longer."
Great, Flip thought. So I get to be a crotchety old grouch like you. No thanks.
The conversation was proving to be a waste of time. Well, what had he expected? Chunk hadn’t promised anything would come of it.
“Before you go, I have a question for you,” Albert said. “How well do you know your daughter, Alp?”
Flip wasn't sure how to answer the question, so he replied with his own. "Why do you ask?"
“Well, I was wondering if you knew any reason why she lied to you.”
“What do you mean?”
"About the crossed wires," Albert continued with a note of irritation. "It's not any of my concern. I just find it curious, that's all. I was observing her process. She didn't stumble upon anything of the sort. She did find something though. It was more like a mass, like a walled-off abscess. She appeared to be peeling away the layers when something inside it stirred. I felt a strong energy discharge, and that's when you had your erection."
Falconcity
THE BELLHOP, DRESSED in formal attire comple
te with the circular red cap, unlocked the door and stepped aside to allow Flip and Damba to enter. He then pulled the cart with their four suitcases behind them. Even though they planned to be in Dubai for only two or three days at the most, it was essential to appear they'd be staying longer. Plus, after their shopping spree back in the States, Damba's wardrobe had more than doubled in size.
As Damba walked into the deluxe two-bedroom suite, Flip watched his companion's travel-wearied face light up at the opulence of their surroundings. One thing you could say about the developers of Dubai, they knew how to add luxury to everything they built. From the tile floors softened by the large rug at the foot of the bed with what appeared to be a snowflake pattern over a rich crimson background, to the king size bed with six large pillows propped up against the wood and leather headboard; everything reeked of high class. Over the years Flip had grown blasé about hotel rooms, no matter how luxurious, so it was refreshing to watch Damba's reaction.
Flip nodded to the bellhop. "Those two bags stay in this room," he said pointing to his bags. "You can put the other two in the second bedroom."
“Certainly, sir,” the bellhop replied.
“Well, what do you think of our accommodations, Damba?”
“They’re amazing. I’ve never seen anything like it.” He walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, bouncing up and down on it lightly.
“Well, don’t get too comfortable there,” Flip said with a chuckle. “That’s my bed. Yours is in the other room.”
“I get my own room?”
"Sure, only the best for my intern." He walked over to the windows and pulled open the drapes. "And here's the best part of all. That's Falconcity of Wonders over there in the distance." From their seventeenth floor window, they could see for miles in the mid-morning sunlight that was already promising a blistering day of heat.
Damba joined him at the window, the look of awe continuing to grow on his face. After a few seconds, he looked from the view to Flip. "And is that where..."
Flip nodded as he placed a finger in front of his lips. “Yep, that’s where my company is considering investing,” he said a little more loudly than necessary. It was important they both keep up the facade of being in Dubai on real estate investing business.
“Are those...pyramids?” Damba asked.
“Yep,” Flip replied. “They’re still under construction.”
“But I thought the pyramids were thousands of years old.”
"That's right, and most are in Egypt," Flip said. "These are replicas. And over there is a replica of the Eiffel Tower, and let's see, over there...that's the leaning tower of Pisa; again a replica."
“Holy smoke. No wonder they call it a city of wonder.”
“Exactly. It could be a tremendous investment opportunity as well,” Flip replied as the bellhop entered the room.
“Will there be anything else, sir?” The bellhop asked as he held out his hand.
“No, that will be all for now,” Flip said as he handed the bellhop a generous tip. He glanced at his watch. T minus fifty-five hours and counting.
As the Gulfstream taxied off the airstrip to a small group of buildings, Tao strolled forward from the rear of the plane and stood by the exit door release. As soon as it came to a stop, he opened the door and stuck his head out to wave to the ground crew to bring the airstairs forward.
He turned and gently shook Willow. “Boss, we’re home.”
She nodded without opening her eyes. “It’s good to be home.” She felt like turning her head towards the window and falling back to sleep but duty called. She sat up and stretched.
“Get our two guests off the plane and out of here, first,” she instructed Tao, who nodded.
“Ned is bringing them up now.”
“Are the vehicles here yet?”
“Yeah, they just pulled in. One limousine and a van, just as you instructed.”
"Just as the Sheik instructed," Willow corrected him. "If I had my druthers, it would be a van and a couple of camels to take those two deep into the desert. Any idea why they're here?"
“I heard them whispering to each other, something about a genetic template and how important it was to keep it hidden.”
“Genetic template? What the hell is that?”
“Not sure, boss, but if I had to guess, it might have something to do with these kids’ special powers.”
"Really?" Willow replied as she unfastened her seatbelt and stood up. She stretched a second time and noticed Tao trying not to stare at her shapely figure. It brought a slight smile to her lips. "Why do you say that?"
"I recognized the doctor's name. He was our inside man at Bio Vita Tech, where the kids came from. I did a little poking around the internet and found out it's a genetics research facility. I was just putting two and two together."
"Really?" Willow repeated. "A genetic template that gives humans special powers. Well, I'll be damned. That bitch has sure tied herself to a rising star. I wonder which one has it hidden?"
"I don't know boss," Tao replied as he waved the ground crew forward and assisted them with the airstairs. "I frisked both of them for weapons before they came on board, but didn't find anything suspicious."
“Well, it’s none of our business. Still, bet I could find the damn thing if I frisked them,” she muttered to herself. “Get them in the limousine and out of my hair.”
"Will do," Tao replied, just as Ned opened the door to the business compartment and waved Petty and Chickowski through.
Willow nodded at them, but then turned her attention to collecting her belongings from the overhead compartment.
“Oh look, Thaddeus, a limousine. Isn’t that nice?” She turned to Willow. “That is for us, right?”
Willow nodded, biting her tongue to keep any snide remarks from escaping.
“What’s the van for?” Petty asked.
“For my luggage.” The words escaped before Willow could stop them. “Don’t worry what it’s for. Just get in the limo. The Sheik is waiting for you.”
“The Sheik?” Petty turned to Chickowski. “You didn’t tell me we were visiting a sheik.”
“Not a sheik,” Chickowski answered. “The Sheik. I’ll explain in the car. Just let’s go.”
"You mean, like in the old movie, The Sheik?" Petty persisted as she began to walk down the stairs. "Why, that's one of my all-time favorite movies. Valentino was such a dream in it."
“Well then, you will wet your pants when you meet your host,” Willow quipped, but too softly for either passenger to hear.
Part Two
Cruising
AS JAMES BROUGHT THE C-130 transporter to a cruising altitude of thirty-five thousand feet, he glanced over to Pat in the co-pilot seat. Even though technically she wasn't licensed to fly the C-130, she owned only a private license for flying single-engined planes. Given the nature of the flight, it was necessary for the team members also to be part of the crew, so Pat became the co-pilot and Todd served as the loadmaster.
The last twenty-four hours had been hectic for everyone, but especially for Pat, who'd checked and double checked the many different details that had to work for this mission to be a success. Since the next twenty-four to thirty-six hours were guaranteed to be even more stressful, Pat had already taken his advice to get a few hours of shut-eye.
James was thankful for having Pat's partnership. He was good at seeing the big picture of such a mission, but it was the small details that could make or break such a venture; something he wasn't nearly as good at as Pat. We make a good team, James thought, and not for the first time wondered what else would be possible for them once this mission was behind them. Plenty of time to think about that later, James reminded himself. After all, realistically they both could be dead or worse within the next day or two.
A light tap on his right shoulder brought him back to the moment. He turned to see Alp’s bright face leaning towards him from the spare cockpit seat.
“Flying with you brings back memories,�
� Alp said, fairly shouting above the noise of the four turboprop engines. The C-130 was a large plane by anyone’s standards, but then again, the Sheik never believed in doing anything in a small way. It was partially filled with supplies for his Falcon Lair compound, but James had mostly selected it because it provided the HALO team with a smooth and safe exit out the rear supply door.
“Yes, it does,” James replied. “Not all good memories, either; like when your sister pistol whipped me.”
“Ahh, I believe you asked us to do that,” Alp reminded him with a precocious smile.
“Yeah, maybe so, but she didn’t have to take such pleasure in it.”
“Well, that’s Tabitha for you. Only too happy to inflict pain. Last time we flew together, my sisters were tied up and drugged in the back.” Alp nodded her head behind her. “This time we have a bunch of your mercenaries back there who are going to risk their lives to help save them. Weird turn of events.”
“Well, remember, your father is paying us all a lot of money. That’s what we soldiers-of-fortune do,” James replied before turning back to check his instrument panel.
“Yeah, I know you want me to believe you’re only doing this for the money, but I don’t buy that for a moment...at least that’s not the only reason you agreed to help us.”
James thought about what she’d said for a moment before replying. “You’re probably right. Maybe I’m finally growing a conscience. If so, this had better be my last mission as a mercenary. Soldiers with a conscience tend to die young.”
“Speaking of soldiers, can I go back and talk to the HALO team?”
“Maybe later,” James replied. “They’ve been instructed to get some sleep right now. They need to be fresh and ready to go by the time we reach the drop zone.”
“Well, can you tell me something about them, especially the team leader. You mentioned you’ve worked with him before?”
"Yeah, that's right. This will be the fourth mission where I've used him but the first one involving the Sheik. Todd came to me highly recommended. It turns out he grew up not far from where I live in the North Carolina mountains...a small town; Waynesboro I believe. Struck me as a sharp kid, so I gave him a chance. It seems like every mission he has been on has turned out better than expected."
New Earth Page 7
