Babel Found

by Matthew James

  Unlike Dr. Boyd…

  It hurt him to think of Hank’s dad as dead and gone, but he was. They couldn’t bring him back, but at least they got the bastard that shot him. Frost eventually killed himself, accidently stepping in front of a train outside Washington. He freaked when Hank showed off his…abilities.

  When Hank’s emotions are off-the-charts, he can summon the fires of Atlantis. It resembles the Greek fire that’s been fantasized in lore and myth, covering his entire body if he chooses. Most of the time he wills it to only cover his hands, using it when he needs to beat the shit out of someone.

  And melt their faces.

  Hank’s powers were tricky, though, only being easily conjured when he’s in contact with an Atlantean relic made of their signature metal, orichalcum.

  Which is few and far between.

  They have only found two such objects so far.

  The first was actually found five years ago by Nicole and her late husband, Tomas. They dug it up in Spain, where it was quickly whisked away by Frost and his men. Nicole’s husband, along with the rest of their team were killed. Nicole was left to die too, laying beneath the body of her Tomas.

  The second Atlantean artifact was a sword found in a burial chamber on an island off the coast of Campeche, Mexico. Hank has since named it Elvis as it resembles the fictional elven swords from The Lord of the Rings. Legolas’ short sword in particular.

  “We’re here.”

  Kane stumbled, caught off guard. He looked around and couldn’t find her.

  “Jeremy?”

  He spun and found her behind him, motioning to the stairs nearby. Blinking, he focused on her face, seeing a look of worry.

  “You okay?”

  He quickly nodded, lying. “Fine, just thinking of the first time I had to save your sweet ass from death.”

  He watched as the hands on hips display of displeasure repeated itself.

  “And of everything else too.”

  Olivia’s irritation immediately subsided. She knew how hard things have been on all of them lately. This vacation was supposed to cleanse them of that. Only Ben and Todd had refused to go on theirs. Ben had been clipped by a bullet, but quickly recovered, and Todd wasn’t even physically involved. He didn’t even know any of them besides Kane at the time.

  “Come on,” she said, beckoning him forward. “Let’s have some fun.”

  Kane gave her a soft smile and followed, squeezing her butt a few times as she ascended the steps in front of him. It was a relatively short climb to the top of the Humunga Kowabunga slides, giving Kane ample time to cheer himself up. He may have felt saddened before, but nothing quite cheered him up like teasing the crap out of Olivia.

  As they climbed, Kane suddenly got a strange feeling that they were being watched, but the only person he could find looking at them with anything more than a glance was an on-duty lifeguard. She was stationed at the top the slides, organizing the mixture of kids and adults.

  He normally wouldn’t have thought of it as anything odd, they were supposed to be watching everyone. Disney was really up to keeping everyone safe around their various parks—waterparks included.

  Just then, Olivia’s and his “sunglasses” pinged, stopping them halfway up the steps. They moved out of the way of the others following behind them and quickly answered the communiqué. Each of them gently brushed the right temple with a finger, unlocking and activating the NVS software.

  “I didn’t send an agent to Algeria,” Kane said, dumbfounded.

  He looked back up to the lifeguard, her eyes never leaving him. The florescent blue and shimmering silver eyeshadow, chopped black pixie-cut, and multiple earrings made her stand out like a sore thumb. Disney didn’t allow that kind of makeup and jewelry on their cast members.

  But her eyes were what gave him the feeling of dread. Her blue eyes made the back of his mind scream for a weapon.

  5

  Marriott Stanton Hotel

  South Beach, Miami, Florida

  The gun goes off in my face, but thankfully the bullet zings past my right ear, punching harmlessly into the sand behind me. As I clutch the assassin’s wrists and shove up, I feel an unworldly resistance.

  Damn he’s strong, I think, trying desperately to disarm him in the process, swiping at the gun. I have an ace up my sleeve, though, but decide now is not the time. The public definitely isn’t ready to see that.

  Instead, a solid punch connects with the guy’s right temple, coming from a smaller, yet insanely effective fist. Nicole slugs the shooter, still holding her bathing suit top in place with her right hand, keeping it from flailing about with the incoming ocean breeze.

  The blue-eyed assailant teeters slightly giving me an opening. Kane’s training takes over and I attempt to judo flip him, only executing the move at half its intended effectiveness. Instead of just him getting flung into the hammock, we both do, tripping over each other like a bad line-dancing duo.

  We topple into the rope swing and immediately get slung to the ground. It’s exactly what happened to me earlier, only he’s under me. I think I have the edge on him as the gun finally goes flying, but boy am I wrong.

  Like the weapon, I go sailing through the air too, thrown. I land a good ten feet away, further down the beach, shielding my eyes from the airborne puff of sand. Mr. Flower Shirt stands with zero difficulties, having no signs of pain or discomfort from Nicole’s knockout blow.

  He takes a step towards me but stops.

  “Hey, buddy,” a voice says from behind him, making him turn and pause his attack. “Think we can settle this another way?”

  I lean around the imposter waiter and see the last thing I expected. Nicole has let her bikini top fall back in place without securing the back of it. If another current of salty air rips through here, she’ll be exposing herself to the world for sure. Regardless, her display has caught the attention of a few other people besides me…including our foe.

  Understanding her motives, I leap to my feet, seeing her comb her hands through her blonde hair. She’s trying to reel the waiter in deeper and deeper, doing her best to give me ample time to retaliate. A few months ago I would’ve been dying after four steps through the soft powder, but now, after some of the most intense Special Forces training anyone could go through, I’m barely breaking a sweat.

  Her distraction pays off and I dive into him before he can turn, sending him headfirst into one of the palms holding up my hammock. An audible crack can be heard as I drive him into its base with all my strength. Only, it wasn’t his skull that cracked, it was the damn tree.

  Holy shit!

  I again jump to my feet, but instead of continuing on the counterattack, I turn to Nicole, doing my best not to gawk at her in the process. Shaking off the last of the alcohol’s effects, I quickly grab our gear, running west, up the beach, making for the hotel. This isn’t a fight we can win without our weapons.

  Our conventional weapons anyways.

  Doing her best to cover herself while running, Nicole keeps up with me without issue, ignoring the fact that she’s basically out there. She’s just reminding me and everyone else why I’m the luckiest guy on the planet.

  Sue me for being proud.

  “What do we do?” she asks with not the least bit of embarrassment or concern over her current state. “This isn’t some normal hit or anything. That guy wasn’t even bleeding after he hit the palm.”

  Another reason why I’m so lucky. Her attitude during moments like this.

  “No idea,” I say, “but we need to lose him in the streets and regroup with the others as soon as we can.” As I say the last part, my bag begins to chime. I reach in and yank out my NVS4’s, slipping them on.

  Before this model was given to us, I had to wear the previous version twenty-four-seven in public, keeping my gold-bronze eye color hidden from the world. Now, I’m wearing a specially made set of contacts that do the same thing. The orichalcum swirling through my eyes is something I’m going to have to live with
forever, but the public eye doesn’t need to see it. Ever.

  Nicole follows suit and gets the same message I do, an email from Ben.

  “Read aloud,” I tell my glasses as we continue our run, reaching the path between the beach and the rear of the Marriott Stanton resort. It’s a gorgeous hotel, costing what I consider an untold fortune to stay there, but we aren’t paying for it, so whatever.

  I stumble a bit when Morgan Freeman starts speaking to me. It’s a feature that Todd hacked off of another GPS app. Apparently, he updated my pair without telling me. Before it was just a really rude sounding British woman.

  To Indy, Marion, Beast, Belle, and Q:

  I shake my head at the ridiculous codenames Kane came up with. He was super paranoid that someone could eventually hack into our network even though Todd assured him it wasn’t possible. There were reported leaks inside the CIA all the time and this was his way of keeping our identities secret.

  Possible danger in the desert. Will report back when, and if, confirmed. Keep watch for anything suspicious. A “friend” of Beast’s has shown up here. Be careful.

  It’s signed with a simple, M.

  Indiana Jones, Beauty and the Beast, and James Bond—all present and accounted for. Thanks, Kane—I mean, Beast. But the message is more concerning than the names. It seems Ben is having his own problems with an unwelcomed guest in Algeria. Kane doesn’t have any friends in the CIA that are permitted to help us, or even speak to us for that matter.

  Damnit. What the hell is going on?

  Typhoon Lagoon

  Orlando, Florida

  “Are you sure it’s the lifeguard?” Olivia asked, whispering to Kane.

  “It has to be,” Kane replied, watching the other woman from behind his tinted glasses. “She looks like a dolled up flamenco dancer that listens to way too much techno music.”

  “What?” Olivia asked, confused.

  “Never mind… The point is that we need to be ultra-cautious when we get up to her.”

  They were about ten people away from being face-to-face with the blue-eyed lifeguard. They each watched as she did her job to a T, helping tourists of all ages into the slide’s entry chute.

  “You’re positive?” Olivia asked again, still unsure. “Looks to me like she’s just an over-made Hispanic college girl.”

  “Trust me chéri, she’s a phony for sure.”

  Olivia wasn’t so sure and she hated to profile someone based on their looks. She was a prime target for that with her pink highlighted hair and multitude of tattoos. She fingered her newest addition to her uncommon physical features, grinding her teeth.

  The scar ran down the right side of her face, opened up by one of the stone serpents in Mexico. It’s six inches in length and almost completely healed, not being a bad enough wound to require surgery. But it was deep enough to scab and eventually scar. Kane had kidded that they now matched. He had received a stone tiger claw across the left side of this face in the Atlantean necropolis before they met, leaving him with a trio of cuts along his jaw. He joked that he couldn’t grow a proper beard ever again.

  “Come on,” Kane said when he caught her crying in his apartment’s bathroom. “You and me, we’re just two damaged peas in a pod.”

  Kane was a perfect gentleman to her regarding her injury. The worst thing about it was when others encountered her for the first time. The surprised expressions on their faces when she introduced herself as Doctor Olivia Dubois. It was hard for some to wrap their heads around the fact that a short, inked-up, disfigured woman could have a designation like that in front of her name. But like everyone else in the genetics field, most being men too scared to even talk to a woman of normal appearance let alone her, she had earned the title, graduating with a more than acceptable grade point average.

  She peeked around a man in front of her, seeing their target. The lifeguard resembled her in a way. They could probably be friends if they hung around together long enough

  Outcasts in an unaccepting society.

  They shuffled forward with the rest of the vacationers almost upon her, making Kane squeeze Olivia’s shoulder. She looked up and back as he tilted his chin, signaling for her to get behind him just in case. Adhering to her overprotective and slightly paranoid boyfriend, she complied and slid around him.

  Safe from nothing, she thought.

  “I don’t like how easily you judge people that look different,” she hissed, upset at Kane. “She doesn’t look any…different…than I do. What makes you so sure she’s dangerous?”

  The line stopped as a large pale child with a classic tank top sunburn needed an extra push from the petite Latina lifeguard. She grumbled a response and attempted to shove him down the enclosed tube, giving Kane time to wheel around on Olivia.

  “First off,” he growled, “you know how I operate and what I was trained to do. Being overly cautious isn’t a bad thing.”

  He stopped, seeing Olivia cower at his pent-up tension being released.

  “And?” Olivia asked, a frown forming on her face.

  Damnit, Jeremy, he thought, angry at himself.

  “Secondly…” he said, thinking, “…you were the one that hit on me first, so I think the profiling thing is out of play right now.”

  Her face said it all. She was speechless. “I did no such thing you…you…”

  “You were about to take your shirt off and show me the goods right there and then,” Kane said grinning ear-to-ear, having her right where he wanted her. “All I asked you about were the tattoos. To think…we only just met, you…” Kane paused trying to pick one of his favorite French insults, “…prostituée.”

  “I am not a whore!” Olivia yelled a little too loud, adding a foot stomp for good measure.

  Everyone, even the lifeguard, stopped and stared, causing the already easy-to-embarrass geneticist to blush even heavier. She tried to cover her face and hide, but it was all but impossible with the sardine-like line of people around her.

  Kane looked around, also slightly uncomfortable with the added attention they were getting. He looked to the sea of eyes and shrugged, playing it off. “Well, not anymore anyways. She’s turning a new leaf.”

  Olivia punched him in the chest, grimacing as her fist connected with his solid frame. She immediately broke into a bevy of French curses, shaking her hand feverishly. “Why do you only remember my language’s inappropriate words?”

  He tilted her chin up so she was forced to look at him. “Calm down, Belle,” he said offering her a genuine heartfelt smile. “Just remember… Don’t you ever give a damn what anyone—not even me—thinks of you. Love you for you and everyone who profiles you as something, other than perfect, can kiss your French ass.”

  Olivia returned his smile, but the Hallmark moment was interrupted.

  “Next.”

  Kane turned around and met the gaze of the lifeguard, glancing down to her nametag. It read: Phoenix. Phoenix? he thought. What the hell kind of name is that? Either way, whatever warm and tender feeling he just shared with Olivia was gone, vanishing under her scowl. Now, all that was left was a cold and calculating stare of a huntress ready to eviscerate her prey.

  Thankfully, Kane’s training and suspicion were at the forefront of his mind, because he would have lost his life if it hadn’t been.

  6

  The Smithsonian Castle

  Washington D.C.

  “What is it exactly that you’re looking for, ma’am?” Todd asked, feeling his body shake with every careful word. Besides his female teammates here, this was the longest he’d talked to a woman outside of work in over a year.

  “Please,” she answered, “my name is Terra, like the earth.” Todd’s heart fluttered a little, his insides shaking from her smooth and seductive voice. “I was actually hoping you could tell me more about this building—the Castle.”

  “Okay…Terra… You’re beautiful—I mean your name is beautiful…” He couldn’t see his own cheeks, but he knew they had to be bright red.”
He breathed and tried to start over. “M-my name is Todd by the way.” Dang, smooth one. But to his surprise, Terra reached out her hand, coaxing him to do the same. They shook and met each other’s eyes, smiling. But embarrassment won and both quickly let go, trying to find something else to look at instead. Todd was actually stunned that Terra reacted as she did.

  Interesting… Maybe her bravado was an act—a show? He’d known people in the past that would pretend to have it all together in order to get ahead in life. They would be overconfident in order to hide their shyness.

  For one another’s sake, he then quickly tried to think of anything insightful to say. Darn, nothing. “Um, what specifically would you like to know?”

  She smiled again, her nervousness driving Todd crazy. She then tucked a loose hair behind her ear. It was a simple movement, but it melted his heart further. “I was hoping to possibly have a behind the scenes look at this place,” she continued, standing straighter, trying to compose herself. “It’s always fascinated me. Would you be able to do that for me?”

  An alarm sounded in Todd’s head. Warning! Warning!

  He grumbled, intrigued by this stranger, but Todd also knew she was laying it on pretty thick, trying to coax a highly illegal impromptu tour out of him. And of course, it was working. She swayed next to him, flaunting herself enough to scramble his brain further. Then again, she could have just walked by him and it would have done the exact same thing. He’d never had this kind of interaction with a woman of this…grandeur…before. But, Todd knew his job and what revealing anything could do.

  “Sorry, ma’am—Terra,” he said, stopping and turning to her, “I can’t do that. You’ll have to join one of the other guided tours we have available on the grounds. I personally recommend something over at the Air and Space Museum.”