Separation

by J. S. Frankel

  Anastasia, though, put her foot down and insisted on taking a shower first. “Cats are clean animals,” she said in an offhand manner when he objected and called for a debriefing first. “You wouldn’t want me to be a dirty kitty, would you?”

  A slight purr accompanied her question, and in spite of his depressed feeling over Farrell’s fate, Harry found it difficult to hold in a laugh. His wife wasn’t about to take crap from anyone, and she’d made it very clear she didn’t like taking orders.

  Overton’s face turned bright red. Clearly, he didn’t like being put on the spot. “Fine, you can use the showers. They’re two floors up. I’ve cleared the building except for essential personnel.”

  She took her turn first, emerging in a pair of formless gray sweats, which somehow made her look more alluring than ever. At least Harry thought so, but he was biased. Once in the shower, he felt the hot water rinse away the grime of the last few days, but he couldn’t rinse away the memories of what he’d seen and heard.

  Shower over, he toweled off and put on a similar suit to his wife’s. His mini-friends had their own children’s versions which hung loosely and flopped all over the place.

  Back in the monitoring room, located in the basement, a spare, small place just large enough to hold them, three computers, the cots and a rack full of games—Jason’s contribution to the downtime they all had to take—they turned to the dinner menu.

  It consisted of every junk food addict’s dream. Fried chicken, pizza, bread and cola made up the bulk of the menu, along with a small salad that Overton insisted they eat. “It’s for roughage,” he said when Jason asked him about it.

  Jason started to roll his eyes at the suggestion, but a smack on his arm from his girlfriend put a stop to it. “Salad is good for you,” she stated. “And since chocolate comes from a plant, I’m having that, too.”

  Dinner turned out to be what the experts had ordered. The smell was intoxicating, and it reminded Harry of the last time he’d eaten... perhaps forty-eight hours ago.

  The two mini-guests polished off most of the eats and then took a place on their cots. As usual, they offered nothing, just went to sleep, and it led Harry to believe they could sleep through anything. Still, he owed Leo big time for his freedom.

  Harry took a break from typing and thinking to settle for a couple of slices of pizza and a bowl of chicken nuggets while he worked on one computer, feeding in equations concerning his studies on DNA, retroviruses, and a whole lot more.

  As he waited for the computations to come through, Overton declared in a hearty but somewhat overly friendly manner that didn’t sound sincere, “More than happy to see everyone back safe.”

  “Glad you’re happy that we’re happy,” Anastasia chimed in while stuffing the last slice of a pepperoni pizza in her mouth. “But you’ll have to listen in to what we found out.”

  “Bad news?”

  Harry chimed in as he saved his findings. “It isn’t good. We just saw the surface, and it’s not over yet. You need to hear this.”

  After they laid down the facts, Overton’s face got tight. “So, tell me this, how’s he going to replace everyone? He’d have to kidnap them first, and wouldn’t everyone else know they were fakes?”

  It was a good question, a logical one, but there was little doubt in Harry’s mind Allenby would make good on his promise. “We have to check on what’s going on in Spain. That’s where I’m guessing some of the Genesis Chambers are.”

  “Already did,” Maze cut in, chomping away on her usual chocolate stash as she and Jason walked through the door. “It’s nice to see both of you again.” She went over to Anastasia to offer a brief hug. Once done, she stepped back, cocking her head to one side as if to assess something. “Did you gain weight?”

  The question caused Anastasia to blush, quite a feat considering the fur. “Maybe a little,” she mumbled and asked them if they’d found out any additional information.

  Jason smirked and moved to the first computer, typing rapidly. “What haven’t we gotten? This has been one nonstop info-gathering expedition. Man, you have been out of circulation too long.”

  And Jason had to be out of touch. “Haven’t you been listening?” Harry asked, somewhat peeved. “That nutball took us captive, and he’s got plans for the big leagues. We have to stop him. Show us what you got.”

  His remonstration caused Jason to get a sober expression on his face. “Sorry man, let me check this out for you.” The clicking of keys ensued, and finally he gave a triumphant exhalation of breath. “This is something we found. We got power surges all over, movement, and more people being,” he hesitated, “killed.”

  Overton cut in to say, “When you two went missing, we followed up two separate leads, one in France, where you were, and another in Spain. We were looking for unusually large power spikes as well as movement and attacks. We got both.”

  In terms of attacks, there had been several in the last few days, all in Madrid and Barcelona. “The unusual thing is,” said Overton as he tapped some keys on the computer and pictures surfaced, “the attackers died shortly after. Some were shot by security, but three were captured and died in jail.”

  Curious as to how they met their maker, Harry asked, “What did they die from, boredom?”

  “It was from multiple organ failure. That’s what the doctors there said.”

  Strange, thought Harry as he considered the possibilities. Putting them on the shelf for now, he asked about the power surges. “Where are they coming from?”

  Maze chimed in with her findings. “It seems the mountain ranges in Spain hold all the power.”

  On the surface, it seemed impossible. “There aren’t any power stations there, are there?”

  “There weren’t before, but there are now,” she answered. “Satellite imagery monitored heat emissions. They showed a tremendous surge in power over the last two days.” She tapped a few keys on her computer, and a picture of a graph appeared, showing two large spikes over the previous forty-eight hour period.

  To Harry, it meant someone—more than likely Allenby—was operating his machines at a high rate, churning out his warrior clones and perhaps more human copies. Copies of whom, he wondered. Maybe he was also building an army at the same time, but that was sheer speculation.

  “So, we have two problems,” Overton said. “One is to find out how many people Allenby has under him. The second is linking up with the Spanish government.”

  “Don’t they know about this?” Harry posed the question, wondering how no one had taken any action.

  The agent let out a sound of disgust. “They know. Once Maze discovered the power surges, we alerted Interpol as well as the representatives of Spain. They view this as,” he grimaced, “an internal matter. They’ve been reluctant to cooperate. They don’t want any trouble, and if we go over there as legal representatives, then someone’s going to scream bloody murder.”

  “They’ve already got trouble,” Anastasia interjected, her arms folded across her chest and a stern expression on her face. “They’ve got a nutcase building his own copies right under their noses. He’s already had his people kill innocents. We have to do something!”

  “I know, but we have no jurisdiction there,” Overton countered, giving a heavy sigh as he stood up. “There’s nothing else we can do except to go over and assess the situation. Without the go-ahead from the Spanish government, we’d be breaking international law if we acted.”

  “Now,” he cleared his throat, and his manner became more official in tone, “the Spanish representative—his name is Francisco Rodriguez—has cleared the way and will meet with us. We’ve apprised him of the details.”

  The only question that remained was when they’d leave. Overton answered it for them. “The day after tomorrow, so get ready. Istvan is staying here. Leo,” he turned to the little mole-man, “you don’t have to go, but maybe they’ll—”

  “I will go,” he interrupted. “I make promise to help. If I help, then maybe I can
be turned back to me again.”

  Harry wanted to tell him the process might not be so easy, but wasn’t sure if Leo would cooperate or not should he know the potential for failure. Silently, he made a vow to do everything possible.

  Silence fell over the room, and Overton rubbed his hands together briskly. “Good, then it’s all settled. We go in, take out the facilities or whatever’s down there if we can, and get out. I want Allenby alive, if possible. If not, I won’t lose any sleep over it.”

  Speech made, he exited the room, followed by Jason and Maze. That left the four to get some sleep, while three of them geared themselves up mentally to take on what had to be the biggest challenge of their lives.

  It was late afternoon when they arrived. Madrid turned out to be hot and humid. Inside the hangar in a cordoned off area, they met with Senor Rodriguez. A short and slender man in his late thirties with slicked back dark hair and a pair of flashing black eyes, he greeted Harry, Anastasia and Leo with professional courtesy, bowing slightly and shaking hands with Overton. He spoke in a thick accent, gesturing all the while.

  “Our government is aware of the problem. We did not know about Allenby until it was too late. We know where he is, though.”

  Anastasia asked, “So why haven’t you arrested him?”

  He turned to regard her with a grave expression. “It is not that simple. He is sequestered in a mountainous area, and has a number of guards, a seemingly limitless amount of them. Apparently, he has been, er, amassing his army for a long time.

  “Also, the area in which he has sequestered himself is well protected, and he has already killed a number of our personnel. We are trying to keep this quiet, for we do not want the public to panic and go on a hunt for anyone not human.”

  He threw an apologetic look Harry’s way. “Forgive me for saying that, but we are still not sure of how to treat transgenics.”

  “How about treating us like people?” asked Anastasia, the anger clear in her voice.

  “We would like to,” Rodriguez countered and his manner wavered between officiousness and conciliatory. “There is suspicion and mistrust on both sides, and we do not want to see the conflict build. The public does not want more killing, and if they see such... they may just take the law into their own hands. We have kept the reporters away, due to the possibility of this being broadcast. It has been,” he wiped his brow, “a nightmare for all of us.”

  “What about the other transgenics?” Harry wanted to know.

  A shrug greeted his question. “We have asked the other transgenic individuals to join us, but they have been reluctant to help. I can understand their problem. Perhaps once this man is gone from our country, we can talk about fixing our differences.”

  He then turned to point to a limousine. “Come with me. We will take you to where they are. You will understand once we arrive.”

  The trip took around four hours, ending up in the area of Andalusia, the city of Sierra de Cadiz. Andalusia, Senor Rodriguez explained, was an autonomous region in the southern area of Spain, consisting of eight provinces. Sierra de Cadiz was one of the most sparsely populated provinces, with roughly a hundred thirty thousand inhabitants.

  “You understand, this man, this Allenby, he must have come here years ago to begin construction. We did not know what he was up to until it was too late.”

  Harry gazed up at the fast approaching mountain range. They’d arrived after dark, but he made out the immense wall of stone far ahead, the flat and open terrain, and the fact the topography offered no shelter should they decide on a frontal assault.

  Stopping far away from the mountain area, Rodriguez produced a pair of binoculars and peered through them. “These are enhanced to include night vision. If you look straight ahead, there are more than fifty... things... patrolling the entrance to the facility. We only found out about this location a few days ago. I must tell you, they have mined it as well. Four of our men were blown to bits when they attempted to enter. Twelve others were shot.”

  “I don’t suppose you tried bombing it,” Overton suggested.

  Rodriguez shook his head. “Our government will not allow such an area to be attacked that way. As for the enemy, they are inside, but with what kind of machinery, I do not know.”

  Harry took the binoculars and checked things out. No fence, but transgenic goat-men and bear-men held high-powered rifles at the ready, and others were armed with anti-tank weapons. “How’d they get the weapons?”

  A second later, he remembered Allenby had already dealt with certain former Soviet powers, and Overton’s next words underscored his thoughts as he took the binoculars. “He probably worked something out with the Russians. They smuggled things in, no doubt.”

  After scanning the area, he handed the binoculars back to Rodriguez and gave a grunt of dissatisfaction.

  No one said anything for a time until Leo asked, “How deep are mines?”

  Rodriguez stared at him as if he were crazy. “They are only buried under the sand. But the weight of twenty pounds or more will set them off.”

  A sniff came from Leo. “I go deeper. Someone give me rope.”

  With a look of curiosity on his face, Rodriguez opened the trunk of the car, searched around, and came out with a coil of nylon rope, perhaps sixty meters’ worth. “Will this do?”

  Leo snatched the rope and slashed at it, cutting it into a number of sections. Soon, he had more than fifteen lengths and tied them around one wrist in a slow, laborious gesture. “Wait for me.”

  Before anyone could say his idea was ludicrous, he started to dig furiously, and his large paws threw up chunks of sand and sod. In a blinding flurry of movement, he tunneled down and was soon lost to sight. “Madre de Dios” muttered Rodriguez, and he trained his binoculars on a pathway to the mountain.

  “What’s he doing?” whispered Overton.

  “He is tunneling.”

  Obviously he was. Harry snatched the binoculars from Rodriguez’s hands. From the furrows and sand being thrown up, Leo was moving and moving fast. The mines—he had somehow managed to fasten a number of them to the various ropes he had, and he was dragging them under the sand toward the guards.

  “Oh crap,” Harry whispered.

  “What is it?” Anastasia asked as she took the binoculars.

  “He stopped.”

  Apparently he had, as the guards converged on a lump. Leo didn’t appear, but one of the guards went off to alert someone—probably Allenby—and two steps into his journey, blew up, with bits and pieces of flesh scattering over the area. That scared the other guards and they began to flee, only to be blown up in turn.

  “He repositioned the mines,” Harry said in awe. “Now’s our chance—let’s go!”

  Overton cautioned him to wait, but Anastasia had already taken off, and Harry couldn’t let her have all the fun. Racing to keep up with her, he panted out, “You realize there might still be mines here.”

  “We’ll just have to trust Leo.”

  As luck would have it, the mole-man poked his head out of a hole and called, “This way, this way, the way, she is clear!”

  Good idea, and they ran into the entrance. Leo did his best to keep up with them, and after venturing over three hundred meters, they found themselves at a ledge. An elevator led down, and staring at the action below him, Harry understood the master plan.

  In a vast cavern the size of two basketball courts, Allenby had managed to set up a number of Genesis Chambers. These looked somewhat different. They were larger in scale, perhaps done to accommodate the increased size of other, warrior-type transgenics. A computer sat on a table in the center of the cavern, a memory stick placed to the side of it. It had a red dot on it. Allenby had used the false information Harry had given him. He’d used it... but he wouldn’t like the result.

  “Look,” Anastasia whispered and gestured at the far wall.

  There, more than eighty chambers stood, each with figures inside them. Even at this distance, Harry saw things clearly. Some
of the occupants looked humanoid. The others didn’t resemble anything human in the slightest. No one seemed to be on the ground below, but the hum of machinery came through loud and clear. “We have to destroy everything,” Harry whispered back.

  “That’s a great idea, but how do we do it?”

  “Follow me.”

  They rode the elevator down to the bottom, and once there, Harry took stock of the situation. A doorway at the far end of the cavern had to lead somewhere, and he guessed Allenby and his horde were behind it.

  Hugging the wall, Harry crept along as quietly as possible, just in case any of the opposition showed. He didn’t know much about wiring, but he did know how to overload a machine and proceeded to turn every switch and dial up to its max capacity.

  A sharp whine sounded, followed by another and yet another. The generators sat off to the side, and Harry turned those up to maximum capacity as well. Soon, they began to smoke and tremble. The shaking got worse, and dust began to sift from the ceiling.

  “What’s going on?” Allenby emerged from the back room with three enormous bearlike lackeys in tow. They were armed with pistols, while their leader was not. “What are you doing?”

  “We’re putting you out of business,” Anastasia replied, waved her hand at Leo and then pointed at the elevator. “Enjoy your retirement.”

  Fear showed itself on Allenby’s face for the first time, fear combined with shock and rage. “Stop them,” he cried to his minions. “Stop them!”

  It did little good. Harry and Anastasia tore into them, knocking them flat, and Harry picked up a pistol, pointing it at Allenby’s chest. “I told you one day you wouldn’t have a weapon handy. Now I do.”

  “So you do.” The scientist’s voice came out in a burst of guttural rage mixed with defiance. “Go ahead and shoot.”

  In a slow, careful gesture, Harry handed the pistol over to his wife. “No, I’m not going to shoot you. I’m going to beat the living hell out of you for killing Morello and Lambert. I’m going to beat the living crap out of you for sending that warthog after me and my wife. And I’m going to rip you a new one because you’re total scum.”