by T. D. Kohler
The woman dances, her hands cover her mouth, “Ah oh.” Looking over to Grunt, she points to Harvey. “Isn’t he one of the ones you came here to look for?”
Grunt stutters his step towards her, then turns back to Harvey. He is met with a fist that sends him back on his heels. Blood spurts out of his nose. Stabling his feet, he dabs the blood. From the corner of his eye he catches Harvey charging him, bending his knees he thrusts himself into his gut. They both fly, slamming him into the porch.
“This is exciting.” The bodies the Agent St. Clair and Selenia turn her attention. Walking over to them, she rolls agent Selenia off of him and caress his cheek, “ahhhh, you poor thing.”
Harvey struggles to keep from losing his breath. He grabs Grunt’s shoulders and throws his knee into his chin, sending him flailing his arms trying to keep his balance.
Grunt grabs his head, fighting the cloud, he drops to a knee.
The woman, watches this and quickly stands up. Reaching in a pocket on her neoprene suit, she pulls out a cell phone. Just as Harvey starts to charge her, she rubs her thumb across the screen. A wave of energy sweeps away from her. Both Grunt and Harvey roll across the ground grabbing their heads.
On her left she notices movement, turning to face it, she sees the admiral wearing a windbreaker, walking towards her. “You, you were shot. You were killed.” Regaining her composure, “That’s okay, I didn’t get to say goodbye last time.” Thumbing her phone again, she watches the admiral as a concern washes over her, “You’re not affected?”
Wincing, he massages his shoulder, “A friend of mine said that if you could keep your mind busy, this energy may not affect you. My mind is never not busy. Dorothy, put the controls down, let’s put an end to this.”
Screaming, “I told you that is no longer my name! You’ll show me some respect!” Thumbing the phone again, a massive wave sweeps out of her suit, knocking the admiral backwards onto the ground. The bodies of St. Clair and Selenia are thrown into the cornfields, Grunt and Harvey are sent under the porch, even the vehicles are pushed away, crashing into each other.
Looking down at the phone, she goes to thumb it again when a dark red laser shoots out of the house, cutting the phone in half. “AHHHHHH!! I can’t control the suit now! Who the fuck did this!” She watches the admiral regain his footing, his hand points to her as a streak of ice hits her chest. The impact lifts her off of her feet and propels her into the cornfield.
Struggling to walk, the admiral drops his arm and buckles from the pain in his side. The stiches have ripped open, causing blood to gush down his side.
Dorothy screams out of the cornfields, “Son of a bitch! That hurt!”
Hearing the stalks snapping, he knows she is coming again, shaking his head, fighting the pain, he lifts his arms in the direction of the ruckus. Just as she tears out of the fields, the air buckles and folds stopping her in her tracks. Between them the professor reappears, his clothes are gone, his skin is pulsating and appears fluid.
“What the fuck are you?” Dorothy yells as she absently reaches for the phone for the suit. “Shit!”
The pain in the admiral’s side wins out, causing him to drop to a knee. He raises he hand again, pointing it at Dorothy. A stream of ice shoots out again. Before it can hit its mark, it takes an unnatural sharp turn into the ground, freezing it on impact. Dorothy goes to charge the professor when she finds herself having trouble moving. It is getting harder for her to see, she starts screaming.
The air begins to clear. From inside the house, Kristen walks out, her hands are holding Lincoln’s visor helmet on. The energy she was projecting is trapped inside a bubble. Hearing the admiral moan, she rushes to his side. Throwing the visor off, she grabs under his good arm keeping him from falling completely over.
Screaming from inside the bubble becomes muffled. The professor levitates into the bubble. Crawling out from under the porch, Grunt and Harvey watch the bubble of energy, swirl and flex. Seconds later the energy is sent streaming upwards, leaving the professor hovering over a passed-out woman. Her skin has a bluish-purple aura. Grunt and Harvey look at each other, without saying anything, Grunt heads into the cornfield looking for his partner and Harvey goes to help the admiral.
The professor’s voice comes from everywhere, “Her suit will no longer work.” He turns to see Agent Grunt helping Agent Selenia from out of the cornfield.
Grunt stops, his jaw drops in awe as he finally notices the professor.
Agent Selenia, forcefully keeping her eyes shut, “What’s wrong Grunt? What is it?”
Without saying a word, he tilts his head. Harvey is the first to let a snicker escape as he watches the short agent’s reaction. The admiral looks over at him, when he hears Kristen giggle as well. Shaking his head, he looks over towards the short agent and the urge to join the laughter builds.
Selenia involuntary let’s out a giggle as she covers her mouth trying to keep it in. “What’s so funny?”
Grunt motions his head, gesturing to Harvey and Kristen to get the admiral inside the house. He looks over at the woman on the ground and shakes his head. After a few moments of watching the professor, he gives him a slow nod of respect. Making his way over to the woman, he lifts her over his shoulder and tosses her body into one of the SUV’s. Hearing the three laughing as they enter the house, he smiles as he helps his partner get in. When he reaches the front of the SUV, Harvey yells at him.
“Hey, you are going to need these.” Harvey tosses a set of keys his way. They both remain standing in place as Grunt massages his jaw and Harvey rubs his lower back. Taking a deep breath, he smiles and starts to laugh again.
Grunt smiles back, grabbing the keys out of midair, his smiles drops as he watches Harvey go back into the house.
Arlington Cemetery,
Arlington, VA
Aug 16, 1314 hours
A large, heavyset man with an intimidating build is standing next to a tall, wiry gentleman, and is watching from a short distance as the funeral unfolds someone singing a Billie Holiday tune. They take sips from their respective flasks, as they get lost in the power of the voice.
Ryan O’Connell, the larger man from Chicago, takes another sip and rubs the back of his hand across his cheekbone. “Do ya know who singin’?”
The Boston director, Richard Merrick, takes in a deep breath and says, “Na, but I’ve never heard such pipes in my life.”
“Aye, I’ll drink to that, my friend.” He raises his flask before taking another sip and rubbing his cheekbones again.
“Are you cryin’?” Rich asks.
“It’s the song. If you mention it to anyone, Dick, I will pound you.”
Chuckling, Rich twitches his shoulders and says, “With all this tension in the ranks, I could use a good scrap.” The song ends and they see Victoria Carol smiling and taking condolences. “Well, all be damned, I never knew she could sing like that.”
Watching some of the other directors gather around her, shaking her hand, Rich digs out his flask. “We’ve never had this kind of tension within our ranks before. We all have a job to do, a role to play in our organization. We’ve lost operatives before...”
Ryan looks over at him. “Yeah, we’ve lost operatives before, but never one so close.”
“But, we have never had one of our own as an operative.” Rich takes a sip; a slight shiver shoots up his spine. “Have you gotten in touch with Sydney? How’s he doing”
Yeah, we talked yesterday. He’s going to live; but, there are still questions the need answering. Sometimes I hate my job.” Pausing to watch the crowd form a line, a jazz band initiates a procession as the crowd exits. “I’ve known Sydney for decades.”
The procession marches towards them when a familiar voice startles them from behind.
“Did you fine men start without me?”
They both turn and look down to see Cindy. She is wearing a slimming black dress, her hair, they can tell, was brushed, but somehow still looks disheveled. Ryan gives her a s
ubtle bow.
“Good afternoon, Director Weinheimer.”
Rich’s bow is a little bit more exaggerated. “Cindy, it is always a pleasure to talk with you on the same time zone.”
“Director O’Connell, Director Merrick.” She gives the wiry man an accepted nod. “Yeah, sorry about the other day.” Scanning the crowd in the procession, she says, “Am I the last to arrive?”
“With the exception of Sydney, I believe you are.” Ryan says as he offers her his flask.
She takes it and lifts it for a mock toast. “Thank you.” After taking a long sip, which gets appreciative nods from the gentlemen, she looks up at them with concerned eyes. “Does anyone know the details of what is going on in Louisiana and Texas right now?”
A familiar Texas drawl approaches from behind, “I believe the only one that can truly answer that is a little busy right now.” They turn to see a well-dressed man wearing an air of cockiness in his step. “It would appear that he coordinated the apprehension of an ominous thief with suspicious circumstances. It’s all very hush hush.”
The four—chuckle light heartedly, which draws the attention of Director Carol and the small crowd of directors around her. Cindy notices them looking their way and gives Ryan an elbow nudge.
They stand motionless, watching Director Carol make her way over to them. A small crowd of directors stay behind within the procession.
As Director Carol approaches, she gives Rich, Ryan and Cindy a nod. “Nice of you three to make it.”
Ryan offers her his hand and says, “My condolences, Victoria.”
She looks him over and nods. “Thank you. Has any of you seen or heard from Sydney?” The bite in her tone is unmistakable.
Rich straightens up and with as much bravado as he can muster says, “Nah, we...”
Ryan cuts the wiry gentleman off, “I talked to him shortly after you and I had talked. We have coordinated arraignments since then.”
Director Carol looks them over with suspicion, smiles and looks down at Cindy. “Well when you hear from him, let him know I need to speak to him. His phone is going straight to voicemail.” She turns walks off, back into the crowd.
Rich gives the larger gentleman a quick shove. “Why’d you interrupt me?”
“Dick, you may be itchin’ to scrap, but she’d kick your ass.”
Cindy and Charlie grin at each other as Richard turns a few shades red; he pumps his shoulders and looks around. “I can take her.”
Cindy, who was taking a sip of a flask nearly spits it up, trying not to laugh.
“Easy girl, you don’t want to waste that; that would be a party foul.” Charlie pats her on her back.
The three gentlemen look at Cindy as she recovers.
Ryan takes on a serious note. “Cin, what do you know? You need to be up front with us.”
Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she looks, one at a time, at each of the men.
“You guys have heard about the robberies down there that were committed under suspicious circumstances?”
Ryan and Charlie look at each other, then subtlety nod their heads, while Rich’s expression becomes bewildered.
Noticing Rich’s confused look, he recalls his memories. “I heard about the big storm that rolled through there a few weeks back.” Watching everyone else smile, he can’t help but feel left out of the loop.
She smiles and puts her hand on her hip. “Good, then I’m doing my job.”
The wiry director from Boston points a finger. “Wait, are you talking about the random atmospheric anomalies that have been poppin’ up down there, where dozens of people were killed?”
“Right, well, Sydney identified the subject and put together a team and put a stop to it and the technology she is using.”
Cindy turns and looks up at Ryan. “I have been told that the subject has been nullified.”
The larger man lifts his flask as a salute letting everyone know. “My team is anxious to get some answers.”
They can see the excitement building in Rich’s eyes as he quickly looks at Charlie, but before he could say anything, Charlie raises a hand to stop him. “He had Little John and Yukiko Nomi, but the others I am not sure about.”
“Sydney says that Little John respects them.” Cindy adds.
“So, we have a man who spends most of his time looking for alternate sentient lifeforms, has now put together a team to stop people from getting killed here on Earth. That sounds like a worthy, honorable adventure,” Ryan says.
The wiry gentleman raises his fists and pretends to box. “I understand now, Sydney has created his own faction. No wonder the Madam is pissed.”
Ryan pushes his shoulder nearly knocking him off balance. “Rich, you’re an idiot with a high IQ. Do you really think this team has a chance in the long run? Without the training from the good director here?” Motioning toward Charlie.
Charlie smiles. “I wish every team the best of luck. Since they managed to stop this subject as you call it, they may have kept Sydney out of the fire.”
Rich scratches his head as he looks at the three. “An improbable team, a quixotic faction.” Everyone smiles and nods. “It scores well in Scrabble.”
Shaking their heads everyone starts to laugh which catches the ear of the Madam as she gives them a piercing glare; causing them straighten up.
Cindy quietly speaks up. “Would you fine gentlemen care to show a woman a good place to get a drink?”
“It would be an honor,” Charlie says. “We can drink to the Quixotic Faction and hope for the best."
Deserted Farm,
Dry Creek, LA
Aug 16, 1545 hours
On the remodeled porch of the rundown farmhouse, Agent St. Clair and Admiral Kay sit on some chairs drinking ice tea. They notice the arrival of a Silver Ford Taurus as a cloud of dirt envelops around it.
Director Harris slowly steps out of the car, as he closes the door a murder of crow caw and flies across the car. The director winces as he shields himself.
“Son of a…He still has not done anything about these birds?” Slowly standing himself up, he brushes off his suit. Looking up at the porch, St. Clair and the admiral are laughing. The admiral winces and grabs his side.
The director regains his composure, “I am impressed, Admiral, a good leader is a leader that knows when to take it easy.”
“You are correct, sir. You should be taking that same advice.” Taking a sip of his tea, “What brings you by?”
“I wish I could, there are still a lot of embers from this fire we were in that need to be put out. Besides I received a rather mysterious phone call from an up and coming agent of mine. I always try to take care of my agents.”
The admiral walks over to shake the director’s hand. “I want to thank you; Lincoln’s funeral was appreciated and well received.”
“It was the very least we could have done.” He pauses for a moment to look into the admiral’s eyes. “I only wish that I had the opportunity to work with him.”
“He would’ve enjoyed that.” Making his way back to the chair, the admiral looks out into the rundown cornfields. “Director, were you able to get any information on Ms. DuFerot? Like, how did she know our names? How did she know to come here to find us?”
“All very good questions, admiral, another sign of a good leader. There is a rift in our organization and some answers are not easy to come by. Still the search for Agents Selenia, Grunt and Dorothy DuFerot continues.”
St. Clair smiles and whistles. “We never gonna see them again.”
“Director O’Connell is spitting fire and looking to roll some heads…” Pausing to take a breath, he claps his hands together, “I bring good news. You two are no longer on the FBI’s Most Wanted list and your pasts have been cleared up, no longer missing.”
“Thank you, I know that Harvey will be relieved.” The admiral sets his drink down. “Can I get you a glass of tea?”
Harvey bursts through the doorway with his arms raised and act
ing giddy. “Gentlemen. It is my honor to present to you, the ever brilliant, the ever-formidable, Kristen Abergathy.”
Stepping outside, Kristen is wearing a MIT form-fitting suit, the metallic boots, gloves, and headgear of Dr. Stevens.
Everyone applauds as she takes a bow. “Gentlemen, please, call me Brittle Star,” she tells them, which earns her another round of applause.
Harvey, still smiling, but takes on a more serious tone. “It took us awhile to downsize the equipment, but I think Brittle Star here will do Lincoln right with his project.”
Director Harris steps up to Kristen. “Agent, it seems like only yesterday; you were tripping up the stairwell to give me information and now look at you.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Harvey taps the shoulder of the director and motions out to the fields. “Sir, do you have a moment?”
“Absolutely, my good man.” He turns and they head down the porch, out and away from the house.
The admiral stands and looks at her. “Kristen, I am glad you are honoring Lincoln, by wearing his project. I am sure he is smiling now.”
Taking off the headgear, she looks over at the admiral. “Thank you, Admiral. I hope I can serve it justice.”
* * *
Out away from the house, Harvey stops the director. “Sir, what happened to Agent Yukiko?”
“She has been relocated to a medical facility.”
Tapping his fingers together, he appears apprehensive. “Last month, when we were in Texas, Lincoln made a comment that I didn’t catch until recently. He said that we need to get them into the van, not get her into the van…”
The director stops walking, puts his hand out, and looks over at Harvey. “Dr. Garret, that, I’m afraid, is Above Top Secret.”
Epilogue
2015
Medical facility,
Groom Lake, NV
