by Lincoln Cole
“All right,” Dominick said. “Right this way.”
He led them off the platform and into the parking lot. He kept talking, but Haatim barely noticed what he said. He felt fatigued from traveling so much over the last few days and didn’t have the energy to converse about the weather.
They stuffed their bags in the trunk, and then climbed into the cabin. Frieda took the front—fine with Haatim because it meant she would do the talking. A moment later, they headed into town.
Most of the buildings looked old like they had a lot of history. Snow covered the streets, and the going proved slow, as the tires skidded across slippery patches. Luckily, with most people preferring to stay in, not much traffic used the roads. The city didn’t seem to be in any hurry to clear the snow.
“We’ll fly in,” Dominick said. “The roads to the hotel have closed until we can hire someone to clear them. It’s expected to keep snowing for another few days, and then we’ll have good weather for several weeks.”
“Have you spoken to Abigail?” Frieda asked.
“I have,” Dominick said. “She’s struggling. Being locked up for this long hasn’t been good for her.”
“Aram keeps postponing,” Frieda said. “He wants to put as much time between the trial and what happened at Raven’s Peak as possible.”
“Why?” Dominick asked.
“So no one thinks about it when the trial starts. Raven’s Peak wasn’t a good day for the Council, but people can justify their actions more easily over time. He’s also trying to make it harder for Abigail so that she doesn’t testify so well.”
“It’s working,” Dominick said.
“Not for much longer. I’m here now, and the Council won’t allow him to postpone again.”
“That’s good,” Dominick said. “We’re also pulling in a lot of mercenaries.”
“I know,” Frieda said. “I don’t like it, but Aram is in control of security right now.”
“Are you vetting them?”
“As much as possible,” she said. “Most of them have shady pasts, though, so I’m not sure who to trust.”
“Have things gotten so bad?”
“We aren’t recruiting, and our numbers have dwindled. We have three Hunters on site, counting you, and the rest out on assignment. We don’t have the soldiers to manage our security.”
“Things have changed a lot since I first showed up,” Dominick said.
“They’ll get better,” Frieda said. “We’ve had a rough couple of years, and the Council is trying to solve too many problems economically and diplomatically, but we are considering starting a new recruitment push. After Raven’s Peak, I think I have them convinced that we’ve neglected our army long enough.”
Dominick didn’t reply, and they drove in silence for a while. Frieda didn’t often talk about the affairs of the Council, and certainly never with such negativity, which meant that she did trust Dominick.
And himself, Haatim realized. It surprised him how quickly Frieda had come to trust him, considering how new to all of this he was. Maybe because he offered an outside perspective and didn’t have any stake in what they discussed.
Either way, it felt good.
“We’re here.” Dominick pulled the car into the airport. The tires crunched across the snow, and he drove up to a private helipad and parked.
Haatim and Frieda shuffled out of the car after him, following across the snow toward a gray and plain helicopter without any visible insignia or markings. It looked large, about three meters tall, with a pilot’s door on each side and a passenger door entering from the right.
“Meet Spinner.”
“Spinner?”
“Yeah,” Dominick said. “This is my baby. Climb in. Haatim, you can ride up front and be my copilot.”
“I don’t know how to fly.”
“Neither do I,” Dominick said. “But it hasn’t stopped me so far.”
Haatim hoped he was kidding. He climbed up front and buckled himself in. Dominick passed him a helmet with a built-in microphone and headphones.
“Can you hear me?” Haatim asked, aligning the microphone to his mouth.
“Yeah,” Dominick said, flipping controls on the dashboard. “But, if you want me to hear you while we’re airborne, you might want to flip on the microphone.”
Haatim felt around the helmet, finally finding a switch under the left ear. He flipped it, and everything became much clearer. “That better?”
“Much,” Dominick said, and his voice came through loud and clear.
The engine kicked on, and the blades rotated, but the headset blocked most of the noise. After a few minutes of prep, they got airborne. Gradually, the city shrunk beneath them until the buildings looked like tiny specs. It seemed like a snow globe to Haatim, beautiful and packed under mounds of snow.
“Haven’t flown much, have you?” Dominick asked.
“I have in planes,” Haatim said. “This is something new, though.”
“Beats the hell out of planes if you ask me.”
“I flew once before,” Haatim said. “When we left Raven’s Peak. They flew us out, but I don’t remember much. I fell asleep.”
“I was in Germany when that happened,” Dominick said, shaking his head. “Hate that I missed the party.”
“Definitely crazy,” Haatim said. “How far are we flying?”
“About a ten-minute flight to the hotel,” Dominick said. “Your rooms are all ready to go.”
Haatim watched the mountains slip past beneath, as they flew away from the city. The mountains looked jagged and uninviting; he’d never seen nature so pristine and foreboding.
He didn’t see another structure until they reached their destination. A huge hotel sat tucked away in a small valley, surrounded by trees and forest and barely noticeable. A single road ran to it, dead-ending into the hotel and almost completely buried under mounds of snow.
It reminded him a little of the hotel in The Shining, but he pushed the thought away.
“That’s where we’re staying?”
“Yep,” Dominick said. “Home sweet home.”
He lowered Spinner toward the lawn out front. The ground rose to meet them until he finally touched it down. The landing pads sank about two feet into the snow. The blades above slowed when he powered down the engine until finally coming to a stop. Everything fell silent. The absence of the engine rang in Haatim’s ears.
“I hope the roads clear in the next couple of days,” Dominick said, taking off his helmet. Haatim followed suit, setting it on the dash. “But, until then, we’re stuck here.”
“I can think of worse places to get stuck,” Haatim said, climbing out.
The snow came up to the middle of his shin, making it difficult to walk.
They made it to the lobby, and warm air came out to greet them. Frieda closed the door behind them. “Where’s Abigail?”
“Down the hall,” Dominick said, pointing. “On the left side. You’ll see Jim and Mike parked out front.”
“Aram is using them as guards?”
“For now,” Dominick said.
“I’ll put a stop to that today. If he’s bringing in mercenaries, then he sure as hell isn’t using Hunters to babysit.”
She headed off at speed, striding down the hall in the direction that Dominick had indicated. Haatim thought to follow her but decided not to; he would let her have some time alone with Abigail before interrupting them.
Instead, he shook out of his heavy coat and warmed his hands. Though so miserable outside, he hadn’t realized just how cold he’d become.
“At least the furnace works,” he said.
“You’re telling me,” Dominick said. “They’re spoiling us out here.”
“I’m not a fan of cold weather.” Haatim rubbed his hands some more.
“Me neither,” Dominick said. “Give me a beach and martini any day. The cold does have its uses, though.”
“Yeah?”
“It’ll make your training a lot e
asier.”
Haatim didn’t like the sound of that. “What do you mean?”
“You’ll find out. Get some rest. We’ll start in the morning. Want me to show you to your quarters?”
Haatim shook his head. “No,” he said. “First, I need to talk to my father. Do you know where I can find him?”
“Upstairs in Conference Room B,” Dominick said. “It’s his office for now.”
“All right,” Haatim said.
“You’re on the top floor.” Dominick handed him a keycard.
“Isn’t the place mostly empty?” Haatim scrunched up his face. “Why not the first floor?”
“Because you’re going to get real good at taking the stairs,” Dominick said, smiling. He headed off before Haatim could respond, disappearing down a side hallway.
Haatim glanced at the keycard and sighed before sliding it into his pocket.
Time to go see his father.
***
Haatim hesitated outside the door to the conference room, gathering his courage for the confrontation surely about to ensue. He wanted to see Aram, but also felt worried about just what sort of a yelling match such a meeting might entail.
He could turn around and head to his room instead, but that wouldn’t help anything. Sooner or later, he would still have to see his father and, if anything, he’d rather just get it over with. Like pulling off a Band-Aid.
He knocked on the door.
“Come in.” The heavy wood muffled his father’s voice.
Haatim opened the door. His father sat at the head of an expansive conference table. The room had a vaulted ceiling and looked expensive and tasteful. The only person inside, Aram worked with multiple sheets of paper spread out before him.
“Yes? What is it?” Aram asked, not looking up.
“It’s me,” Haatim said. “Hello, Father.”
Aram glanced at the door. When he saw Haatim, his face lit up. He jumped out of his seat and hurried across the room to his son. Aram wrapped him in a hug, squeezing him tightly.
“Haatim,” he said. “My son.”
Not exactly the greeting he’d expected. It caught him off-guard. He’d avoided his father for months now—not answering his calls and deleting his messages without listening to them. He assumed his father would be furious with him, but he seemed the opposite.
“Oh, how I’ve missed you,” Aram said.
“I’ve missed you, as well,” Haatim said. “I’m sorry I’ve been out of touch. I’ve been extremely busy.”
Aram waved the concern away. “Think nothing of it,” he said. “I appreciate how difficult things must have been for you since your time at Raven’s Peak. Everyone has their way of dealing with things, and yours has always been internal.”
They stared at each other for a moment, and Aram rubbed his son’s shoulder and smiled at him.
“Your mother misses you, too,” he said, finally.
“She’s here?”
“In Lausanne.” Aram separated and released his son. “I’ve put her up in a hotel nearby for a couple of weeks. After you left, she didn’t want to be alone, so when I had to go to work, she came with me. She’s had an excellent vacation.”
“I’m sure she has,” Haatim said.
He missed her. He’d spoken with her a few times in the last couple of months, but they hadn’t had a lot they could talk about. His mother remained unaware of this world, and he didn’t like lying to her.
Unlike his father, apparently.
Still, it felt nice that she stayed close by. It would be good to visit her.
“How have things been with Frieda?” Aram asked.
“Busy,” Haatim said. “Thirteen countries. I’ve seen more of the world in the last few months than the rest of my life.”
“Her life is rather hectic.” Aram nodded. “She likes to oversee things and micromanage. Has she been kind to you?”
“She has,” Haatim said. “And she’s told me … a lot of things. We met some of the operatives out in the world.”
“That’s good,” Aram said. “It’s good that you’re learning about this world.”
“The trial has her concerned,” Haatim said. “She doesn’t think there’s a good reason to have it at all, and I tend to agree with her. That’s why I came here to speak with you today.”
Aram frowned. “Haatim, I don’t wish to talk about—”
“Abigail saved my life,” Haatim said.
“After putting you at risk.”
“Through no fault of her own,” Haatim said. “They were after me, whether or not she got involved.”
“That’s debatable,” Aram said. “And, I’m still looking into just what happened in Arizona. You nearly died, son.”
“I remember,” Haatim said, his voice sharper than intended. “I promise you that she had nothing to do with it.”
Aram looked as if about to object, but then his expression cleared. “I understand your position, but things happened for which she cannot be forgiven. At least, not without a trial.”
“Why are you pushing so hard to have her punished? What has she done to you?”
“It’s not about her or me,” Aram said. “It’s about the law and upholding our values. You’ve been with Frieda. You’ve seen the sorry state of what we’ve become.”
“What do you mean?”
“How many operatives did you visit? Ten? Twenty? There aren’t many of us left, and the ones we do have, feel afraid to act. Our Order has grown weak, and gets weaker by the day because we refuse to uphold the values that made us great.”
“What values?”
“Truth, strength, and obedience.” Aram held up a finger to enunciate each point. “We need to unite behind one goal. Not many.”
“How does Abigail fit into that?”
“What she did … it goes against everything we stand for.”
“She saved thousands of innocent people, including your son, multiple times, and stood against and defeated a horrible demon. How can that go against what you stand for?”
“You don’t understand.” Aram squeezed Haatim’s shoulder once more. “This isn’t your world. One day, you will, but for now, you need to trust that I know what is best. I have things in hand, and what I am doing is right.”
Haatim took a deep and steadying breath, desperately trying to keep his anger and emotions under control. He hated when his father became patronizing and demeaning, and part of him wanted to storm out of the room in frustration.
When younger, he would have done just that. And, now, he’d done with taking his father at his word. “I intend to testify on Abigail’s behalf.”
“Absolutely not. I forbid it.”
“You cannot stop me. I know the laws and what rights I have. I am allowed to testify and am both willing and able.”
“A mistake. We should stand united.”
“I survived Raven’s Peak. I know what transpired and what Abigail did. She risked her life. She is a selfless and good person, Father, and if you are too ignorant to see it, then I pity you.”
“Did Frieda put you up to this?”
“No,” Haatim said. “The decision is mine alone.”
Clearly, Aram didn’t believe him. “My son, you need to take more time learning and finding out about this world before jumping in with both feet.”
“I don’t have that luxury,” Haatim said. “Considering everything that happened, I’m certain I’m submerged already.”
“I don’t want you to end up on the wrong side of this,” Aram said. “We have forces at play here that you don’t understand. Perhaps it would be best if you remained an impartial bystander.”
“No,” Haatim said. “I’ve made up my mind, and I know enough about the rules to know you can’t keep me away. I wanted to do you the courtesy of telling you myself rather than you hearing it secondhand.”
Aram frowned. “You cannot be persuaded?”
Haatim just stared at him.
“Very well,” Aram said with a deep
sigh. “When the trial begins, you will, of course, be allowed to testify on Abigail’s behalf.”
“Good.”
An awkward moment passed, and Haatim couldn’t think of anything to say to break the silence.
Finally, his father spoke. “I missed you. And I can see that you aren’t a little boy anymore. I’m proud of everything you’ve done and the man you’ve become.”
“Thank you,” Haatim said.
“When this trial is over, and things settle back down, we need to spend more time together. I can show you things that Frieda never will.”
Haatim didn’t respond, not sure if his father wanted to create doubt in his mind about Frieda or if he simply wanted an excuse to spend time with his son.
Not that it mattered. He did miss his father, and maybe once they had put Abigail’s trial behind them, they would be able to move forward without disagreeing about everything.
Not likely, but worth hoping for.
“Of course,” he said. “Once the trial is over. I should head up to my room now and unpack. Good seeing you.”
“Goodbye,” his father said, giving him another hug.
Haatim headed for the door. As he opened it, his father said, “Oh, and make sure to go visit your mother as soon as the weather gets better. She misses you.”
Chapter 2
Abigail paced back and forth across her makeshift prison cell, clenching and unclenching her fists. She would have preferred it if they’d locked her in an actual prison, surrounded by concrete walls and metal bars, rather than the clean and monotonous place that she now occupied.
The hotel room completely lacked personality and style; the sort of place vacationing families stayed during long trips away from home. Though full of amenities, it felt like the walls had shrunk, just a little bit more each day, as she paced the gap between the bed and bathroom, caged like a wild animal.
The entire situation left her frustrated and annoyed. She should be out doing her job rather than stuck in here. She should be hunting for the person she’d seen in the tunnels at Raven’s Peak. She should not be trapped by the Council in a hotel in Lausanne, Switzerland.
The Council didn’t have an official location or citadel anywhere in the world, preferring to relocate every few months to throw off their enemies. Right now, they rented an old hotel in the mountains, which they’d converted into a temporary hideout, from which they could conduct their business and hold Abigail’s trial.
