by T K Eldridge
“Yes, Alex,” from Sam and “Yes, Sir,” from Sinjin.
I slid an arm around Peyton and we left the library, leaving the double doors wide open behind us. Once we’d made it a few feet away, I started to laugh. “I never thought I’d be the protective Dad type. He actually flinched.”
“Behave. They were both more mature than I expected, and I’m grateful they’ve already thought it through and we didn’t have to explain why they needed to wait,” Peyton said.
Just then, Edgar hurried down the hall to us. “Alexander, Dr. Thorpe is on the screen for you. It’s urgent.”
I started to follow, then glanced back at Peyton. She blew me a kiss and waved her hands at me to hurry along. I felt bad rushing away from her when we’d planned on a run together, but urgent was rare, so I focused on that.
We got into the conference room and I saw the doctor on the screen.
“Ah, Jer…I mean, Alexander. Thank you for coming to talk with me. I’ve received intel that you need to know,” Thorpe said, then looked past me to Edgar. “Did you find Kane too?”
Edgar nodded. “He’s on the way, Doc. He was on patrol and I got him on the radio. It’ll take him a few minutes, so why don’t you start and we’ll fill him in when he gets here?”
“I was informed that Stephanie Milford is doing a news interview with Senator Paul Connell on the evening news. Milford is going to spin the destruction of the Facilities as being the fault of the patients. If they can paint you all as crazed lunatics escaped from the asylum with destruction and terror on your minds, they can get the government and the locals both behind hunting you all down like animals. We can’t let this happen.”
Milford was the spin artist for the Facility. She looked like an angel, but had the heart of Goebbels. It was her idea to market us to foreign allies in the early days, so they would see how lethal and effective we were – and want their own creations. That’s how they got Facilities to go global. I remembered seeing her face when I first woke after one of my surgeries and thinking she was so beautiful. The darkness in the space where a soul belonged made her one of the ugliest creatures I’d ever met.
“How do you suggest we counter this?” I asked.
That’s when the doctor looked uncomfortable.
“Doc?” I said. “You can say it. Please, no more secrets. I think we’ve shown our support for your ideas and you’ve shown your heart by setting up such an amazing place for us to be. Just say it.”
“Okay. I’ve kept something from you that I learned last week. I wanted to verify it first, and I got the verification this morning. I should have probably said something when I first learned of it, but I didn’t want to drop this on you without proof.” The doctor looked up at me and said, “Kane is your half brother. You share a father.”
Kane chose then to step into the conference room and he looked from me to the doctor. “Excuse me, what?”
“You and Jericho are half brothers. General George Carver is father to both of you.”
I gripped the back of the chair I was standing behind, then glanced over to Kane. “My pre-death name was David Alexander Carver. What was yours?”
“Adam Phillip Carver,” Kane replied.
“Huh. We never even asked each other what our pre-death names were. It wasn’t worth thinking about when we’d never use them again.” I looked up at the screen. “It’s okay, Doc. I am glad you checked it out and now we know. But I’m not sure why that’s important?”
~At least we now know why we can do this and no one else can.~ Kane sent to me.
I nodded, but kept my eyes on the Doc.
“It’s important because the person that both Milford and Senator Connell are calling on to hunt all of you down is General George Carver. If we reveal that two of those he’s supposed to kill are his own sons, it may derail their plan.”
“I don’t want the General finding out my new name, or where we are. I don’t want him in my personal life at all. Suffice it to say that his treatment of my mother was reprehensible,” I said.
Kane looked surprised, but shrugged. “He thinks I’m dead. I enlisted as expected and died.” Then he paused and looked over at me. “You’re how old again?”
“I’m five years older than you, Kane,” I replied. “And the last time I saw the General, I was twelve. We moved after that and did our best to stay under the radar.”
“I think we can manage that well enough. He’ll know you’re both his sons and that you’re in an undisclosed location. If he wants to meet, I’ll have Gideon fly you in the chopper to a neutral meeting place. And he’ll want to meet. He’s already hinted that he’d rather have the Facility’s residents under his command than under the ground.”
“Understood, Doc. Okay, so you figure out how we’re going to crash this party and we’ll make sure we’re ready for it. Tonight, right?” I said.
“Yes, it’s the ten o’clock report, so you’ll need to be here, in front of the screens, by twenty-one thirty. Wear the button downs and jackets that I had Edgar pick up for you. Make sure you’re clean-shaven and look like you’re going to a job interview – because you are.” Doc was rambling, which told me just how worried about all of this he really was.
“As long as you’re not asking for ties, we’re good,” Kane said in an attempt to lighten the mood.
It worked.
Doc smiled and gave us a thumbs up. “See you in a few hours. Thank you, gentlemen.” Then the screen went black.
Edgar spoke then. “I have had the jackets steamed and the shirts pressed, as well as slacks that go with the outfits. All of it is up in your rooms. I’ll leave you two to talk.”
And then there were two. My brother and I.
I looked at Kane with different eyes, amazed that I had a sibling. “Are there any other kids in your family?” I finally asked.
“I have a sister. Charlotte. She’s about twenty-eight now. Probably married, but she went to law school. Did her undergrad at Yale and her graduate at Harvard,” Kane said.
“So, I have a half sister, too. Wow.” I turned and leaned my butt against the table between two chairs. “Did you know about us? My Mom and me?”
“No. I had no idea. Did you know about us?” Kane asked.
“Nope. So, he had a whole separate family while he was still with my Mom. That’s crazy. I mean, we thought he was gone a lot because he was active duty. Not because he had a second family somewhere.”
“Wait…” Kane said. “Did he have a marriage license with your Mom?”
“Not that I’ve ever seen. I mean, she took his name and wore a ring. I saw a wedding photo, so they had a wedding. Maybe I can get Cole to dig around and see if he finds one. And no, they never got divorced. That would mean money we didn’t have to fight him and she didn’t even want him to know where we were. He beat her so bad the last time, she was in the hospital for a week.”
“So, he married your Mom first, then had a big church wedding with my Mom…he’s a bigamist. And I’m a bastard,” Kane said.
I had to laugh at that and the laughter grew. He looked at me, all indignant for a moment, then started laughing himself.
“Yeah, you’ve always been a bastard. Didn’t know it was true, huh? Did he ever call you that?” I asked.
“He did. A lot. What was his favorite slur for you?” Kane asked.
“Half breed. Which, I am. I’m half Native American,” I said.
“Well, it’s an honor and a pleasure to know you are my brother by blood as well as choice,” Kane said and held out his arm.
I gripped his forearm as he gripped mine and we both grinned. “Sonofabitch. Brothers. The team is going to think this is funny as hell, y’know,” I said.
“Cole is going to prank us. Gideon’s going to roll his eyes, and Kit is going to laugh her ass off,” Kane said.
“Well, let’s go tell them and my ladies, then get some food before we have to prep for tonight,” I replied.
* * *
As requested, Kan
e and I were dressed in suit jackets over button down shirts and dress slacks. Dress loafers for us both that shone with polish. Groomed to within an inch of our lives, we sat in two wing chairs, a curtain hung from the ceiling draped behind us. The table and office chairs had been pulled back so the more neutral setting could be arranged. A small table sat between us with glasses of water. Nothing about the setting gave any indication of where we were. Shortly after we sat down, Dr. Thorpe appeared on the top center screen. He told us that he’d contacted the news station and gave them the satellite connection information to reach us. He said he’d be sitting in to listen and yet not be seen on the news report. About ten minutes before the newscast was about to start, the screen below Dr. Thorpe’s came alive.
A man wore a headset and mic and spoke to us. “I was told to connect to this feed. Are you the two men who Dr. Thorpe said needed to be in on this interview?”
“Yes, we are,” I said.
“And your names?” he asked.
Kane and I had agreed to use our pre-death names, since the whole point was to show our connection to the General.
“Adam Carver,” Kane said.
“David Carver,” I replied.
The man’s eyes went wide and he turned away to speak into his mic. A moment or two passed before he turned back to us. “Are you related to the General?” he finally managed to croak out.
“Yes, we’re his sons,” I said with a polite smile.
He looked into my eyes and shivered. “We’ll be starting in five minutes. Please stay seated during the entire interview. Thank you.” He stepped out of the screen and we saw the stage set in front of us.
We must’ve been on a stand-mounted monitor because it felt like we were standing right at the edge of the circular platform.
“You think he noticed our eyes?” I asked Kane as I tried not to laugh.
“About the time his own went wide and he made the connection. Should make tonight interesting,” Kane said.
We looked like any other thirty-something professionals except we both had glowing turquoise blue cat-pupil eyes. Kind of hard to miss in the soft light of our current setting. Yes, that was done on purpose.
Dr. Thorpe was a genius in more than just medicine. His ability, along with Edgar’s input, to manipulate a setting to our advantage was brilliant. Even our dress shirts enhanced the color of our eyes. Kane’s had a faint green hue and mine a blue tint. My jacket was navy while Kane’s was a lighter shade of blue. It all served to make our eyes brighter than normal.
I took a sip of water and set the glass back down, then tugged my sleeves into place and folded my hands together over my stomach. Kane tapped a finger against the arm of the chair, but otherwise seemed calm.
~At least we can talk like this and coordinate our responses.~ I sent to him.
~Yeah, but if they don’t start this circus soon, I’m going to go behind the curtain and do a few push ups. I really am not looking forward to seeing our father’s face. Not after everything we now know.~
~I get it. I promised if I ever saw him again, I’d kill him for what he put my mother through. Guess I have to revise that promise.~
~I just keep telling myself it’s for the greater good. If we want to have our lives here, and if you want to be able to marry Peyton and have a family, we have to take care of this sooner rather than later.~
~You’re right, brother. We’re in this together, for all of the rest of our family here. We can do this.~
A voice came over the monitor’s speakers and we looked up to see Ms. Milford, Senator Connell, Margaret Bryant, the interviewer, and General George Carver. All were seated in low-backed upholstered chairs in a semi-circle. A cocktail table held a flower arrangement and mugs of something, probably water. The voice then said “You can hear and see the interview from the beginning, but they won’t hear or see you until you’re introduced. Please stay quiet so I can hear my cues,” the voice said.
“Understood,” I replied and once more fell silent. I took the time to look over the old man. He was an old man, and I wondered what life had been like for him since our deaths. His crew cut hair was white and his face heavily lined. He still looked fit, just a lot older than what I calculated to be his fifty-nine years.
~He looks ancient.~
~I was thinking the same thing. He looks a lot older than fifty-nine.~
~I hope…well, no, that’s not true. I kinda do hope…he has a heart attack when he sees us.~
I had to swallow the snort of laughter Kane’s statement brought up. I gave him a chiding look and rolled my eyes before looking back at the opening introductions of the evening’s entertainment.
We listened as they lied about us for a good ten minutes. How we, and the other inmates of the Facilities, had gone rabid and attacked and killed those who had saved our lives. How we stole military grade weapons and blew up the buildings, making sure there were no survivors. They showed images of lab coat wearing bodies, bloodied and maimed on the floors of their labs. Leaving those images seared in the viewer’s minds, they went to commercial break.
~I am somewhat glad we’re remote. I’d hate to prove them right by choking the everlovin’ shit out of Milford and Connell.~ Kane said.
I agreed and took a slow, cleansing breath. A voice came over the speakers again.
“We’ll introduce you after we play a clip from Dr. Thorpe.”
I glanced up at the monitor where Thorpe still watched us and he held a finger to his lips and smiled knowingly.
~Oh, hell. I think the shit’s about to hit the fan, little brother.~
~I think you’re correct, big brother.~
Big brother. That was kinda cool. I liked that a lot.
Then the clip started to play and we could see it in a corner of the monitor, while still being able to see the faces of those seated on the stage. In the clip, Dr. Thorpe was seated at a conference table with Connell, Milford, the late Vice President Wilson, Senator Hansen, and a few others we didn’t recognize. Thorpe was arguing that we should all be released to our families and lives, and paid a salary to continue to work for the Facility if we so desired. Wilson, Connell, and Hansen all ended up shouting down the good doctor and saying that we weren’t fully human any longer, so we no longer qualified for the same rights as full humans.
I had to uncurl my fingers from the arms of the chair before I broke it. Kane reached over and took my hand in his and we held on while we listened to Thorpe try to fight for us and get shot down every time.
Then the General spoke. “These men and women signed up to serve their countries. For the Americans, they gave their lives in service and knew that being a part of this perverted excuse for a miracle was against the military code.”
“No, General, that is not true,” Milford stated. “The Department of Defense was our biggest financial backer in this and advised on which wounded warriors to accept into the program. This was condoned at the highest levels.”
The interviewer, Margaret, spoke up then. “General, we have two of the Facility’s warriors coming to us via satellite from an undisclosed location. I think you’ll be interested in speaking with these two young men.”
As she was speaking, the assistant said “When she finishes speaking, the screen will be two-way live. In three, two…”
“…young men.” Her last two words echoed as Kane and I looked out of our monitor into our father’s eyes. He didn’t recognize us at first, then we watched his face turn gray and his hand shake as he lifted it to his mouth.
“My…boys?” General Carver rasped and then grabbed his left arm. A young man in dress greens came running onto the stage and the camera cut to a commercial while we watched the soldier slip a pill into the General’s mouth. Probably nitroglycerin for his heart. Water to drink, a damp cloth and then makeup came back and added a touch of powder. He assured everyone he’d be fine in a moment and sipped his water, pointedly not looking up at us on the monitor.
“Bad heart, Pops?” Kane said and the G
eneral snapped his gaze to the screen.
“You’re both dead. We buried your bodies.”
“Not quite. You buried parts of us. They regrew those bits and we kept the rest,” I said, flippant as usual with the old man. No matter how many years it had been, and we’re talking close to twenty-six years since I’d seen him in person, I still reverted to my smart-ass ways.
“Still a smart ass, eh, David?” he said, then looked at Kane. “Adam. My gods.”
Margaret looked from us to the General. “General, are you well enough to continue?”
“Yes, yes. I’ll be fine,” he said. He studied us and we could tell when he spotted our eyes and recoiled. He looked physically ill and for a moment, I felt bad for the old man.
“Tonight we have several distinguished guests, but I’d like to introduce two special guests. David and Adam Carver, sons of General George Carver. David and Adam are also two of the survivors of the Facility Massacres,” Margaret said.
“Gentlemen, was the story we were told earlier an accurate one?” Margaret asked.
“No, Ma’am,” I replied. “The Facility was attacked by a kill squad. I recognized one of the men as a man I’d served with years ago, who had left the military and joined a private military corporation.”
“So, he’d become a mercenary, then,” Margaret asked.
“They prefer to be called private contractors,” Kane replied. “But you’re not wrong, either.”
“They shot everyone they could find. Inmates, lab workers, maintenance staff, guards, it didn’t matter. A handful of us got out of there, all of us injured, and as we were driving away, a helicopter launched missiles at the buildings and blew them sky high.”
“They tried to hunt us down, but the General is correct in that we were well trained. We evaded capture and got to a safe place to take care of our wounded,” Kane added.
“Prove it,” Milford said, her pretty face looking rather smug.
“I think we have something to prove it with,” Margaret replied. A moment later, shaky video – probably from a phone – showed the black-clad soldiers going down the corridor in one building, shooting every person they saw. A skip in the video and the person holding the camera was obviously riding in a vehicle that bumped and jostled over the ground as missiles were launched from an Apache helicopter into the buildings in the distance, obliterating them.
