Children of the Fifth Sun

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Children of the Fifth Sun Page 22

by Gareth Worthington


  “I know,” Freya replied.

  “A fast one? What do you mean?” Alexandro’s eyes were narrowed as he pondered what harebrained scheme Kelly was plotting now.

  “We got landing permission based on the need for an emergency landing. We need to make a sharp exit.”

  “Kelly’s right, I’m afraid.”

  Alejandro sighed.

  They trudged down the stairs of the jet and were met by a lone, semi-official-looking man in an off-white uniform.

  “Are you okay?” the man asked in a thick Indian accent.

  “Sure,” Freya said, smiling.

  Kelly stepped slowly behind the man and then hit him across the back of the head with the butt of one of Freya’s Berettas. He fell to the floor in a crumpled heap. Alejandro winced in empathy.

  “When did you take one of my guns?” Freya put her hand on the empty holster attached to her belt.

  “Sticky fingers.” Kelly winked and handed it back to her.

  Freya couldn’t help but smile. “C’mon, let’s go.”

  They exited the hangar and snuck around the side of the building, heading toward the nearest highway. It would be a bit of a trek, but they weren’t about to hail a cab in the airport. They’d have to grab one en route.

  Location: Washington D.C., USA

  Lucy stared in disbelief at the television. The news reporter was nodding away and talking in the strange way news reporters do, delivering short punchy sentences and emphasizing certain words. The irritating woman’s bright red lipstick and shock of golden, curly hair would normally have distracted Lucy from the story. Normally, she would be berating the reporter for being a bimbo and reducing an important profession to breasts and eyelashes, but not today. Today, she was fixated on every syllable.

  “Top story again. The Chinese Minister of foreign affairs, Li Xiaoping, and the chairman of the Central Military Commission, Xi Jintao, have been killed in an explosion at the Ministry of National Defense compound. Minister Li apparently entered the so-called August 1st Building with an explosive device strapped to his body and detonated it in the office of the chairman. The reasons for this action remain unclear. However, an emergency meeting of the CMC has been called.”

  Lucy switched off the television and slumped back in her Chesterfield armchair. Her eyes were fixed wide open, and her hands were white-knuckled as she grasped the arms of the chair. What the hell had he done? He’d said he was going to take care of the situation. She hadn’t thought he meant this. This was a disaster. Was it really the only way? Perhaps he wanted to show her he meant what he said. Perhaps it was a gesture to jolt her into action. Or maybe it was a trap. Maybe it would all be traced back to her somehow.

  She marched out of her lounge, down the corridor, and into her home office. Flicking on the green Tiffany lamp, she searched the messy oak desk for her telephone. Where the hell was it? She needed to call her brother. She needed advice, and there was no one else to ask. Damn. She swept the papers from her desk in frustration.

  A dull thunk confirmed the cell phone had hit the ground. Feeling amongst the fallen papers, she found it. Before she could dial, it sprang into life, the image of her brother’s face on the screen. Startled, she almost dropped it but managed to regain her grip.

  “Christian. That’s so weird. I was just going to call you.”

  “Hey, are you alone?”

  “Yes. I need to speak with you. Something awful has happened. I need advice.” Her statement was met with silence. “Hello? Christian?”

  “I’m here.”

  “Did you hear me?”

  “Yes, I heard you. What is this bad news?”

  He sounded oddly nervous, thought Lucy. “Remember, I told you I had a conversation with the Chinese Minister, right? Well, what I didn’t tell you is he disclosed to me that a secret Chinese society has infiltrated their government and a splinter of this faction is hell-bent on stealing the creature and wiping out the U.S. He told me he would try and stop the leader of this faction, and in return, I had to stall the Colonel. Well, he kept his word. He just blew himself up in the leader’s office.” Again silence. “Christian?”

  “Yes, I’m sorry. I’m here. Sis, I can tell you that you kept your end of the bargain, too.” His voice trailed off.

  “You managed to stall him?”

  “You could say that. He’s not going to be chasing anyone around the world.”

  “You’re a genius. How’d you do it?”

  “I injected him with the virus.”

  It was Lucy’s turn to be silent. For the second time that day, she was stunned.

  “Lucy? Sis?”

  “You did what?” Her tone wasn’t angry, more exhausted.

  “It was an accident. I was going to do it when I overheard him say he was going to hospitalize you. Get you out of the way. But then I couldn’t do it. The Colonel backed into the needle. There was nothing I could do.”

  “Where’s he now? What’s his condition?”

  “He’s in quarantine. He’s signed off on immediate human trial of the anti-virus, using himself as the guinea pig.”

  “If he dies, you will be convicted of murder.”

  “I told you it was an accident.”

  “Then manslaughter at best. God, what have I gotten you into? Okay, I’m coming to you. I need to speak with him face to face before he ... well, just in case he—”

  “Dies?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, but watch your back. He was on the phone when I overheard him. Someone might be on their way to you right now.”

  “I’ll call my security—”

  “No!” he shouted, causing Lucy to pull the phone away from her ear. “What if one of your security guys works for him? Just get out of there. Come here.”

  “Okay. I can be there in an hour or so.” She pulled the phone from her ear to click it off but hesitated and placed it back. “Christian?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I love you.”

  “I love you, too, sis.”

  She ended the call and slipped the phone into the inside pocket of her blazer. After a deep breath, she tried to calm her nerves. Okay, move. Lucy scurried around the room, picking up the papers and placing them back on the table in an attempt to make things appear as calm as possible, because she most certainly was not calm. Her pulse raced. Her hands trembled. She had no idea who to trust. The Chinese Minister? The Colonel? Right now it had to be her instincts. And her brother.

  A hard rapping at the door shocked her into alertness. Who the hell was that? Lucy grabbed the handbag on her office chair and the car keys that were in the bowl on the sideboard. She thought about finding her coat but decided better of it.

  The rapping at the door became louder. “Madam Secretary?” called the voice through the door.

  Moving as quietly as possible, Lucy crept out of the office to the kitchen and into her garage. Should she take the car? They’d see it, surely, and follow her. But how else would she get away? She pondered her options for a few seconds. Her neighbor. She could ask her neighbor.

  She scurried to the back door and snuck out. Carefully, she tip-toed through the wet grass to the small gate at the end of the yard. She flicked the clasp and pushed the wooden door open before quickly making her way down the path to the nearest house.

  The gate to her neighbor’s yard was locked. Lucy hitched up her skirt and awkwardly vaulted the gate into the garden. Her stockings caught on a protruding nail and tore a massive ladder in the silk. She pulled at the ladder and shook her head. No time to waste now. Looking all around, Lucy hurried to the back door.

  She rapped on it, lightly at first, afraid someone other than the occupants would hear. But no one answered. She needed to knock harder. Lucy took a deep breath and rapped once more.

  Moments later, George appeared at the door, pulled back the curtain to the glass, and gazed outward, his brow furrowed. “Lucy?” His voice was muted through the door.

  “George, I need yo
ur help.” She mouthed words so he could read her lips.

  Bolts and locks clunked and clacked before George opened the door. He was a rotund black man in his early sixties. His face was a mass of gray hair and beard, and he wore a pair of thick-rimmed glasses balanced on his nose. “Lucy, child, it’s freezing out there. Come in, come in. Why are you using the back door? What’s going on?” He ushered her into the back porch and closed the door.

  “I don’t really have time to explain, George. But I’m sure you’ve been watching the news.”

  “Yes, of course. The whole world’s gone crazy. Seems safer to stay indoors if you ask me.” He fiddled with his cardigan and shuffled into the kitchen. “Can I make you some tea?” he called between rooms.

  She followed him, not wanting to raise her voice in order to answer. “No, George. No, I just need to borrow your car. I’ll bring it back, but I need to go to my brother.”

  “Is something wrong with your car?” he asked, confused.

  “No, no. But everyone knows my car and the plates. I need to go unnoticed for now. Please, George.” Lucy’s voice cracked.

  “Sure, Lucy. It’s okay. Of course.” He rummaged in the pocket of his slacks and pulled out a set of keys. “Here.”

  She clasped the keys and his hand within her own. “Thank you, George. If anyone knocks on your door, don’t answer it. Stay inside.”

  “Okay, Lucy, okay.” He smiled weakly at her.

  The Secretary shuffled toward the door to the garage, glancing through the windows as she did so. Time to get the hell out of here. She climbed inside the large SUV and clicked the door shut. The key slid into the keyhole and turned smoothly, bringing the engine to life. Thankfully, it was quiet. A click of the small remote attached to the sunshade initiated the garage door mechanism. It glided upward. Lucy slowly pressed the accelerator, moving the car forward. She paused at the entrance to the road, glancing left and right. A hundred feet or so away to the right, a black sedan was parked outside her house. A man in a dark suit, standing in her doorway, was talking into a cell phone. She crept the car forward and eked it onto the road. Careful not to gun the engine, Lucy pressed the accelerator and slid away.

  Location: Somewhere on the Indian Ocean

  The pathetic, little, wooden boat spluttered over the ocean surface, the makeshift outboard motor choking and coughing petrol fumes. Alejandro steered while Kelly struggled to climb into the cheap wetsuit and keep his balance in the small of the bow.

  “This is ridiculous. How the hell are we meant to do this properly?” grumbled Kelly.

  “Alejandro got us this boat. And it’s inconspicuous, paid for in cash from a local, and there’s no paper trail. It’s perfect.” Freya began unbuttoning her combat pants. “You boys wanna look away?”

  The old man, embarrassed, slowed the boat so he could turn his head away without causing an accident. Kelly ducked his head down and stared at the old, wooden boards that comprised the bow. His urge to catch a glimpse of her perfect naked form was overwhelming. He bit his bottom lip.

  By the time Kelly had resolved to look up, Freya had already slipped out of her pants and t-shirt and into the wetsuit, pulling it up and over her shoulders. “Okay, you can zip me up.”

  Kelly raised his eyes to see Freya’s bare back turned to him. He yanked hard on the zip, pulling it upward. Damn, even her back was elegant and alluring.

  They skimmed along for another ten minutes before Alejandro cut the engine. The small vessel bobbed on the surface, the sun reflecting off the ripples. The smell of salty air filled his nostrils and filtered to the back of his throat. He could almost taste it. But the annoying Hispanic accent of his father-in-law brought him crashing back to reality.

  “This should be it.”

  “Are you sure, old man? We don’t have GPS.”

  “This is India. GPS isn’t something every local fisherman happens to have in his kitchen. Besides, I was on the ocean before you were born, Kelly Graham. I was told roughly where we needed to be, and this it. Trust me.”

  “We should trust him, Kelly.” Freya put a hand on his shoulder in reassurance.

  “Fine.” Kelly pulled the ill-fitting scuba mask over his head and snapped it into his face. “Fuck knows whose dirty, smelly, bacteria-filled mouth has been around this regulator.” He shuddered.

  Freya laughed. “Now who has issues with putting things in his mouth?”

  Alejandro restrained a smile. “Okay, last item.” He handed Freya a balled-up piece of metallic mesh.

  “What is it?” Freya asked as she unraveled the item to reveal two sleeves joined in the middle with black straps.

  “They’re Neptunic sleeves,” Kelly replied. “Essentially a budget anti-shark suit.”

  “I’m afraid it’s all I could find, young lady.”

  “Do we really need this?”

  Kelly nodded. “Yes. There’s bull sharks in these waters. Nasty fuckers. The old man used his head. But no gloves?”

  “And what about Kelly?” Freya asked.

  The old man shrugged. “As I said, all I could find.”

  “Put it on, and let’s get wet.” Kelly sat on the side of the boat and then fell backward into the water, disappearing beneath the surface.

  “Be careful down there, young lady.” Alexandro’s voice carried a tone of genuine concern.

  “I’ll be alright.” She pulled the sleeves over her wetsuit and fixed the straps. Then, with Alexandro’s help, she lifted the tank onto her back before pulling the mask over her face. “Kelly’s the best diver I know. He’ll look after me.”

  The old man gave her a pained look but said nothing.

  Freya popped the regulator into her mouth, sat on the edge of the boat, and then dropped back-first into the ocean. Alejandro watched the bubbles dissipate. It was difficult to explain, but he’d grown fond of Freya. She was, in some ways, very much like his daughter. And just like Izel, she was besotted with that blithering idiot, whether she wanted to admit it or not.

  * * *

  Kelly peered through the electric-blue water. Despite the clarity of the Indian Ocean, the cool waters attenuated light quickly. He couldn’t see more than a couple of hundred feet in front of him—not that he was really concentrating.

  The last twenty-four hours played in his mind. It had been strange. Alejandro had meandered his way into town to organize the boat and diving equipment that they would need. In the cramped room of the dingy hotel they had managed to find in the little Indian town, Freya had crashed out on the one tiny bed, tired from piloting. Kelly, quite rested already, had sat awake, his back propped against the wall, watching her sleep, breathing slowly. Her eyes, even when closed, were beautiful. He was unable to look away. Despite her strength and ability to look after herself, he couldn’t help but feel a deep need to care for her, to watch out for her. He had been so intently observing her he’d failed to notice Alexandro’s return. The old man had coughed to signify his presence, startling Kelly. “Leave her alone.” That’s what he’d said. Kelly had thought about arguing but decided the old bastard was right. She was better off without him. Instead, he’d sighed and asked for details on Alexandro’s success in town.

  Freya elegantly glided in front of Kelly, breaking his train of thought. Her slender body slid through the water with grace and ease. She must have sensed his stare, because she turned her head to face him and gave a huge, regulator-filled grin. Kelly stifled a laugh.

  He turned back to his equipment to check their depth—sixty-five feet. They were at the sea floor. It wasn’t very deep, but this was where it was supposed to be. He motioned his right arm to get Freya’s attention. He then signaled for her to look down and keep her eyes open. She gave the okay sign.

  As they swam a little further, the structure came into sight just as Alexandro’s information had indicated. A large horseshoe-shaped wall, three-feet thick and six-feet tall, spanned more than two-hundred-fifty feet in diameter. Other than that, it was unimpressive—just an old stone w
all. Surely, if a team had already been down here, they would have found an orb? Kelly pulled himself along the bottom, sifting through the sand, picking up each stone he came across. He shook his head and looked across at Freya. She seemed to be having similar poor luck, pointlessly rummaging through silt and mud. He swam across to her and pointed in front, indicating his intent to look on ahead. She nodded and watched as he flicked his fins, disappearing into a haze of ocean and sand particles.

  Freya returned to her treasure hunt. All she found were rocks and the odd tin or soft drink can. Ugh, it was disgusting. Even the ocean wasn’t safe from humanity. She reached the outer edge of the stone wall and swam along, keeping close to it. Her gloved fingers prodded into each crack and crevice, not that she could feel anything through the thick material. Her mask was beginning to fill with water. She thought about Kelly’s instruction and began the mask clearing procedure.

  Pressing the palm of her right hand against the top of her mask so the bottom released a few millimeters from her face, she exhaled hard through her nose, forcing the water out. A stream of bubbles crashed about her head in a white-water curtain. As it cleared, a small metallic glint protruding from beneath one of the huge stone bricks caught her eye. She clawed her way to it, then started digging in the sand. The fine silt clouded up around her, obscuring her view. Using only her limited sense of touch, Freya kept tunneling under the wall. The familiar shape of a box began to form under her fingers. She dug beneath until she could grip the box with both hands. Tugging hard, she released the cuboid object from its hold in the silt. The billow of sand cleared.

  She stared at her treasure. It was a small chest, copper-colored with a green oxidized coating on its surface. She smiled. Could this be it? Could there be an orb inside? The excitement power through her. She raised her head to see if Kelly was nearby, but he wasn’t anywhere to be seen. She swam in a circle. The inability to hear or feel anything was unnerving. She only had the power of sight and that was restricted to a straight line in front of her for one hundred fifty feet or so.

  The light above her dimmed. Freya frowned and raised her head to investigate. Above her, the huge shadow of a shark glided by. She knew her mask would magnify any object, but still, the thing looked huge. Its blunt snout and thick body looked positively primeval—the perfect predator. Panic set in.

 

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