Wealth of Time Series Boxset

by Andre Gonzalez

  “Give us about ten more minutes to clear out of your office, then you’ll be able to get back to work,” Garrett said.

  “Not a problem—take your time.”

  Minutes after the security team left the office, Julian returned to his desk and sat with his face buried in his hands. He closed and locked the door, not desiring any distractions as he prepared for the next phase in his rapidly advancing plan.

  Garrett had raised a good point that he hadn’t yet considered. A message would need to be delivered to the public. Those in the Alaska headquarters already saw the security team raid the office with no explanation. Did they even know Bill was dead? Surely rumors were already spreading across the world.

  The office was equipped with a podium that pulled out of the closet in case the Commander needed to deliver an impromptu message to the nation, and this situation certainly called for it.

  He crossed the room to the corner closet and pulled open the door that revealed the podium, among a couple of file cabinets and old campaign posters from Strike’s last election that read Don’t Strike out, vote for me! He wheeled the podium out and positioned it in front of the wall of the past Commanders. The Road Runners had no flag to call their own, believing a physical symbol could risk their cover in the general public, so the American and state of Alaska flags hung high on the walls above the portraits, creating a formal backdrop for the upcoming speech.

  Julian pulled open the door to the rest of the office. “Danielle, can you come here when you have a moment, please?”

  Danielle was the office manager and had the answers to anything in the building, including how to turn on the cameras to go live for a speech.

  “Good morning, Commander,” she said, strolling into the office on her short, pudgy legs. She was known for wearing excessive amounts of perfume and today was no exception as she entered with a fruity breeze that would linger for several minutes. Danielle offered a youthful smile as she brushed back her short brown hair. “Is there something I can help you with?”

  “Yes. I need to broadcast live to the nation. I already set up the podium, but have no idea how to turn on the camera.”

  “Easy enough. Are you ready now?”

  “How do I look?” Julian asked, having dressed casual in jeans and a button-up.

  “Relaxed and confident,” Danielle replied, reaching out to brush lint off his shoulders. “How long of a speech will you be giving? Should I get you a glass of water?”

  “Shouldn’t be more than five minutes; no need to worry about it. Thank you.”

  “Whenever you’re ready, get behind the podium and I’ll make sure the camera is centered before we broadcast.”

  Julian nodded and proceeded to the podium, grabbing the sides in a stern grip and looking straight ahead where a camera protruded from the wall behind his desk. Only a handful of people knew that a Commander’s office also doubled as an underground bunker. Should there ever be an attack, Julian could seal up his office much like Chris did his house. Everything he needed to run the organization was available within the office, including a month supply of food for two people, should he decide to have someone stay with him.

  Danielle pulled a tablet out of the top drawer beneath the camera and ran her fingers across the screen as she whistled. The camera made a robotic creaking sound as it moved up and down before centering on Julian. “That should do it,” she said, and crossed the room with the tablet stretched out to Julian. “Push the green button to start the broadcast. It will show you the countdown until you actually come on the screen. After that, the same button will become red. Just push that when you’re done.”

  “Perfect, I think I can handle that. Would you mind staying in here? I think it’s weird to give a speech to an empty room.”

  “Whatever you need, Commander,” Danielle said and took a seat behind the desk.

  Julian fought off a slight tremor in his hands, knowing he needed to lie to everyone’s face to move forward with the plan. He pushed the green button and watched as a fifteen-second countdown appeared.

  Preceding a Commander’s speech was a quick jingle and video that showed images of Road Runners hard at work around the world. The broadcast was sent out nationally to all offices, as well as direct to the other Commander offices on the different continents. The countdown struck zero and Julian stared into the camera’s soul.

  “Good morning, Road Runners. It’s with a heavy heart that I must announce our very own Bill Jordan has passed away. He died in his home last night, and our team is working hard to investigate what exactly happened. We will not be slowed down by this tragedy. We will do what we always do, and keep moving forward.

  “I was extremely close with Bill. He mentored me soon after I joined the Road Runners, and I know I wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for him. Bill worked tirelessly for our organization – for our cause – and many times put us ahead of his own happiness. He had been working on finding a way to rescue Commander Strike, and I suspect he was getting close if the Revolters felt this was the best way to respond. I genuinely believe this attack was carried out by them.”

  Julian held his stare into the camera, but could see Danielle in his peripheral vision, her brown eyes bulging out of their sockets.

  “We’ve come to a crossroads in our history and have arrived to a tough decision that needs to be made. Bill and I were just discussing the matter last night before he left the office, and we came to an agreement.”

  Julian paused and sighed to release the tension.

  “We are going to deploy our bombs onto Chris’s mansion and put an end to this war. It’s been a decision many years in the making, and I feel this is the right time to move forward with it.”

  Julian thought he heard Danielle gasp, but it might have been the group of Road Runners huddled around the TV just outside his office walls. Either way, he knew the message was delivered with the authority he had hoped for. Once the shock wore off, he returned to the camera.

  “Road Runners, right now is an extremely dangerous time for us. No matter where you’re located, it’s imperative you keep an eye out for yourselves and your neighbors. Bill is just the start, so be vigilant, especially in the days following the bombing, as there will most certainly be retaliation from whoever is left of the Revolters. I wish you all the best. Good day.”

  Julian nodded and pushed the red button on the tablet to cut off the feed.

  “How was that?” he asked Danielle, frozen in the desk chair.

  “It was fine—I mean, it was great. But is it all true?”

  “Is what true? Of course it’s all true.”

  “Bill was killed by the Revolters in his own house?”

  “We believe it was the Revolters,” he lied. “The investigation is still taking place, but who else would do it? Bill was beloved by everyone within the Road Runners.”

  A tear trickled down Danielle’s cheek, leaving a moist streak through her makeup.

  “I can’t believe it. I know we’re in a war, but you never think something like this will actually happen, you know?”

  “I know. They’ve done us enough harm by taking Commander Strike, and now Bill. We have no choice but to make a move.”

  Danielle nodded as she stood and moved to the door. “There was some worry among us about you taking over. But I think you’ll have everyone’s support with these bombs.” She said this robotically, like a history teacher repeating random facts to a bored classroom.

  “Thank you, Danielle.”

  She left without another word, and Julian returned to his desk, knowing that someone would shortly be in touch to try and talk him out of the dropping the bombs.

  118

  Chapter 25

  Martin rose quietly from his seat, as if she could hear him approaching over the constant roar of the bar. His legs wobbled, a sensation of walking through wet cement. Sonya had her face down towards the menu while Martin approached her like a rare, exotic bird he didn’t want to scare away.


  He reached her table after what felt like ten minutes, even though it had only taken him ten seconds to move thirty feet. His arms shivered with anticipation as millions of thoughts ruptured his mind.

  He was within arm’s reach of the table and she still hadn’t looked up. Her face appeared relaxed, free of the stress from their last encounter at her house. The thought of her bullets tearing apart his legs made him want to lunge across the table and strangle her. But he also remembered the time they had spent together in 1996, and no matter what anyone said, he knew their connection had been real.

  Instead of lunging, Martin pulled out the seat across from Sonya and sat, remaining silent to not startle his bird into flapping away.

  “Sonya,” he said, watching her head jolt upright at the sound of his voice.

  Her eyes grew another inch, head jerking side-to-side like a chicken as she scanned the bar behind him. “Martin,” she whispered. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  Her hands slapped the table as she jumped out of her chair. Martin raised his hands in self-defense, and waved her to sit back down.

  “I could ask you the same thing,” he said, his hands shaking underneath the table. Martin clenched his jaw shut, afraid his teeth might chatter and show his boiling rage. Remember, she shot you. She left you.

  “I . . . I don’t know what to say.” She sat back down, but her hands remained planted on the tabletop.

  “I think you and I need to have a long talk, and you can start by saying everything I don’t already know.”

  “I don’t know what you mean. I was just doing my job—you shouldn’t be here. It’s dangerous.”

  “Dammit, Sonya, we’re way beyond that. I’m here. You’re here. Now tell me what the hell happened!” These last words flew out of his lips with a snarl.

  “Okay, okay. Relax. You need to tell me first why you’re here and who sent you.”

  Her hands inched closer to her body, but remained on the table. Martin focused his stare to them, plotting his words wisely, as he no longer trusted the woman across the table.

  “I’m here to get medicine for my mom. I was told it existed here and asked to come.” Sonya nodded as if she knew this. “And no one sent me. Commander Strike gave me permission to come with a group of others, but I would’ve come either way. Now start talking.”

  Sonya looked around, her blond hair swinging behind in a ponytail. “We shouldn’t talk here in the open. Can we go somewhere else?”

  “Wow, so you’re a Revolter now, huh? You’re surely not one of these undercover Road Runners, since you betrayed me.” She finally raised her hands, waving for Martin to shush. “Sorry, but I’m not going anywhere with you. You’re crazy if you think I will, after that stunt you pulled at the Oxford.”

  Sonya gazed into him with her blue eyes, and Martin thought he saw regret swimming on the surface.

  “Okay,” she said. “That’s fine. But we can’t talk here in a bar filled with Revolters. If one person hears the wrong part of our conversation, you’ll be dead in seconds.”

  This much was true, and Martin had let his emotions get the best of him as soon as he saw Sonya. He needed to not lose track of where he was or who he was supposed to portray.

  “Can we talk outside?” he asked. “Maybe go for a walk?”

  Sonya nodded. “Yes, but if we walk by someone, anyone at all, you need to drop the conversation until we’re clear. They’re always listening in the city.”

  “Who’s listening?”

  “The government.”

  With this dramatic comment, Sonya stood again and pushed in her chair, prompting Martin to do the same.

  When they stepped outside, nighttime had started to take its hold as the street lights illuminated the sidewalks, and the city’s buildings glowed like candle flames. Golden spotlights danced across the sky, coming from the direction of the capitol.

  “Where to?” Sonya asked.

  “Is Civic Center Park safe at this time of day?”

  “Everywhere is safe. There’s no more crime in the city; it’s all been pushed to the outside. Where are you staying?”

  “None of your business,” he snapped, pleasantly surprised by his own sternness.

  They walked in awkward silence, a quick two blocks to downtown’s biggest park across the street from the capitol steps.

  They crossed Colfax to the park, prompting Martin to stop and admire the setting. The park was its usual self, only more attractive. New lighting ran along the pathways that cut across the grass. Additional benches had been added, along with a water fountain that provided a soothing background noise. Couples walked around, hands intertwined, while joggers ran by for their evening run through the park.

  “There’s not a homeless person in sight,” Martin noted, remembering the park as a main hangout for those without a home.

  “President Poe signed a law that forced all poor people out of the big cities,” Sonya explained. “He claimed that cities were designed for the wealthy, not the suburbs, and as of now the, roles have reversed. Places like Highlands Ranch and Boulder belong to the poor now, and all of the rich reside in the city.”

  “Protected by guards and an electric fence. Don’t tell me you agree with this.”

  “I don’t have much of a choice. This is my home now. Forever.”

  “Why did you shoot me? Do you have any idea how long it took me to recover?” Martin tried to keep his tone soft, but his disgust leaked out just the same.

  “I didn’t want you coming after me. I knew if I didn’t shoot you, you’d have followed me into the bedroom and grabbed me as soon as I drank my Juice. I couldn’t have a single person know where I was going.”

  “Why here?”

  “I’m protected here. I know the Road Runners want to kill me. Hell, I even understand why they need to, but I’m not going to just turn myself in. I don’t want to die, even though I know it will save the world.”

  “Did you hear that Strike was kidnapped by Chris?”

  “Of course.”

  “What do you plan on doing here for the rest of your life?”

  “I don’t know. Just living without fear. It would be a first, and it was peaceful until you showed up. I thought for sure you’d blast my head off.”

  “I could never kill you. The Road Runners sent me with that poison to your house, but I was never going to use it.”

  Sonya grinned. “I didn’t think you would, but I had to play it safe.”

  “I need to know the truth, Sonya,” Martin cut in, redirecting the conversation back to what he wanted. “I’ve heard all sorts of things about our relationship being a lie. Is it true?”

  Sonya looked to the ground and kicked a rock out of the way. They hadn’t moved since arriving to the park, standing on the sidewalk like nothing else in the world existed.

  “It’s true,” she said. “And I’m sorry, but I have zero emotions.”

  “Then how did you cry, get angry, laugh with me? You showed plenty of emotion when we were together.”

  “It was all acting. If I wanted my role with the Road Runners, I had to go through some extensive acting classes. I can cry on demand, and know how to react in different situations. It’s like I’m playing a character in some never-ending movie. I vaguely remember what these emotions actually feel like.”

  Martin shook his head and looked to the ground, trying to process this news as reality. “So Chris took your emotions and left you out to dry?”

  “You could say that. Chris killed my mom when I was a kid. That’s when he took my emotions away and planted his soul onto me. He claimed a life led by emotions was a bad life, and that’s why he did it—to help me live a long and full life. Because the longer I live, the longer he lives and stays in power.”

  “Does he know you’re here?”

  “Of course. He set me up with the apartment.”

  “I don’t understand your relationship. He’s your father, but you hate him? But he also wants to keep you alive fo
r his own reasons.” Martin shook his head again, nothing making sense.

  “We had to make a pact, him and I. When I ran away when I was 16, I joined the Road Runners—obviously this drove him crazy. I was trying to figure out life on my own and he’d just show up at the worst times, and he knew there was nothing I could do about it.” Sonya shook her head while reminiscing. “Since his life depends on mine, I had to threaten suicide for him to leave me alone. And not just a verbal threat, I had to cut my wrists in front of him to show him I wasn’t bluffing. Once he saw the blood he agreed to our pact.”

  “What’s the pact?”

  “To live and let live. He can no longer acknowledge me as someone he knows. Even if I’m in the middle of important Road Runner business and he shows up, he has to pretend that everything is normal. Remember that date we went on to the steakhouse in 1996? He does shit like that all the time, showing up unannounced to mess with my head, never saying a word to me.”

  Martin nodded, remembering the encounter and his panic to ensure Sonya didn’t find out that the two had known each other. Apparently, everyone already knew everything, Martin being the only oblivious party. He thought back to all the times Sonya had asked to not see the old man ever again, and the dots started connecting.

  “When we returned to 2018 and went to the Wealth of Time store, you went inside with me. Why?”

  “I wanted to surprise him the way he always did to me. It was a good idea in my head, but he wasn’t fazed; probably knew I was coming.” She shook her head in disgust.

  “So now you both work for opposite teams, but have a mutual agreement to leave each other alone?”

  “Well, we did. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do now.”

  “Let me talk to them for you. I’ll tell them you’re alive and well and want to stay with the Road Runners.”

  “Are you shitting me? Want to stay? They sent you to kill me. At my own house! I don’t want to stay.”