by Peter Hoole
They headed south, and approached a fence which couldn’t have been more than five feet high.
As Casey climbed over the fence, Caleb turned to Matthew. “Now… I’m gonna untie you. That doesn’t mean we trust you, okay?” Caleb said.
Matthew nodded.
“If I think there is a possibility you might run, or try to hurt us – I will kill you.”
Again Matthew nodded. He had no intention of running. After his conversation with Dunleavy, he now saw the old man as his only option. He had to stay with the group.
“Okay then,” Caleb said, as he made his way around the back of the young man. “You got him, Sergeant?”
“Already on it, Cap,” replied the ever-vigilant Casey.
Caleb released the cable which had been holding Matthew’s hands behind his back. Enjoying the regained use of his arms, Matthew placed two hands about shoulder-width apart on the fence, quickly hoisting himself up and over.
Caleb followed, placing the gun in the small of his back and in one fluid motion, he placed his hands on the fence, and propelled himself over. Such was his strength; he was able to catapult himself about two yards from the fence-line.
“Geez, Cap, no need to show off,” Casey said, “you’re making me look bad!”
With Casey keeping a watchful eye on Matthew, Caleb made his way to the front of the group. Collectively, they made their way south to the main hangar. Once there, they shimmied along the northern side of the hangar, and turned south. One hundred and fifty feet ahead, they came across the main holding area for aircraft.
Sleek in design, the jets were the vessel of choice for the rich and famous, the type of people Los Angeles had an abundance of. In a town where image was everything, the Gulfstream certainly helped cement the facade.
“Okay Murphy, which one is sort-of ours,” Caleb asked.
Murphy surveyed the jets, strands of her mousy-brown hair catching the light where it protruded from the back of her black cap.
“I can’t see it just yet; it might be on the other side.”
“Okay then, which way?”
“Follow me.”
Murphy led the way across the open tarmac area. As they headed south-west, with the other section of the hangar on their right, Caleb heard a noise. It wasn’t loud, but it was enough that Caleb could detect it and consider it worth investigating.
“Murphy, cover right,” he said quietly.
Without hesitation, Murphy led the group towards the side of the hangar, ensuring they weren’t out in the open. When everyone was lined up, their backs to the wall, Caleb moved.
He switched positions with Murphy, and led the group down the side of the external hangar wall. The noise he’d heard grew louder. Caleb drew his weapon, just in case.
Footsteps.
Judging by the stride and weight of the steps, Caleb recognized they weren’t being pursued by anyone. It was more than likely a security guard, doing his rounds – a rather chubby guard at that. A take down would be relatively easy.
The footsteps drew closer.
Caleb put the weapon away; his intention was to subdue the guard, rather than eliminate.
The footsteps were just about upon them when Caleb lifted his arms into position. The only possible complication he could see, balanced on whether the guard would turn left, directly into the path of the six trespassers, or whether he would continue in a straight path. Either way, Caleb was prepared to adapt.
The guard came into view, and turned left. Startled by the sight of six trespassers, he reached for his radio. It was all to no avail. Before he could put his hand on the radio at his waist, Caleb had moved behind him. He placed one arm across the front of the man’s neck, and the other across the back. As the chubby guard struggled, his cheeks began to puff out, his arms and legs flailing.
“Just relax and you’ll get through this” Caleb whispered in his ear, trying to soothe the man.
Within three seconds, the guard stopped fighting. After five, he began losing consciousness, as the blood supply was cut off from his brain. Ten seconds, the guard’s body slumped, and Caleb carefully placed him on the ground. “Okay, let’s move,” he said to the group. “Darcy, grab the guard’s radio.”
Darcy grabbed the guard’s radio. She was stunned to think she’d adapted so easily to the sight of her boyfriend subduing a stranger, but she was very glad he hadn’t killed him.
Murphy moved to the front of the group, taking the lead. As they turned a corner and headed west, Murphy saw the plane she’d selected, “There it is…” she told the group, “About two hundred yards.”
The plane was sleek in design.
First produced in 2009, The Gulfstream G280 was near top of the line as far as business and private jets go. Having a range of about thirty-six hundred miles, the jet would have no trouble making the journey north to Seattle. With a cruising speed around five hundred miles per hour, they would be able to make it to Seattle in plenty of time.
Murphy approached the plane, with the others following closely behind. She typed in a code on the panel connected to the left hand side of the door. After she pressed ‘enter’, the door opened, and the stairs lowered into place.
“Okay then, everyone on board,” Caleb ordered.
Darcy went up the stairs first, followed by Dunleavy, Matthew, Walker and Casey. Murphy ducked under the plane, removing the chocks from the wheels.
“How did you know about this, Murph?” Caleb asked when she returned to the stairs.
“I know the guy who owns it. He owes me one,” she replied.
“Do I even wanna know what that means?”
“Girl’s gotta keep herself busy during downtime,” she smiled.
Caleb ushered her onto the plane, following closely behind.
Murphy turned left as she entered, taking her position in the cockpit. Walker had already sat down in the Co-Pilot seat.
Caleb turned right. The ten seats were made of soft white leather. Darcy had settled in the front seat, Dunleavy directly behind her. Casey had taken a seat next to Matthew, ensuring he had a window view. Caleb was pleased to see there was little or no space between them, Casey ensuring Matthew knew he was being constantly watched.
“Okay, everyone, buckle up,” said Murphy from the cockpit. “It might be a little bumpy, but I’m guessing we’re a bit time-poor.” She quickly ran through the start-up procedure, missing many of the hundred or so-pre-flight checks. The engine came to life, and the plane began to move.
Caleb was still standing when the plane jolted into action. He fell into a vacant chair.
“C’mon, Cap, pay attention!” Casey shouted good-naturedly from his chair.
The plane continued to move forward, briskly taxiing around the runway. After another minute or so, the plane came to a gentle halt. “Okay everyone,” Murphy said. “We’re doing this without any lights on the runway, so my best advice is to tuck your head between your knees, as you may need to kiss your ass good-bye.”
“Hang on a sec, Lieutenant,” Caleb said.
Darcy stared at him, lifting a questioning eyebrow.
“Darc, hand me the radio,” Caleb said.
Darcy silently handed it over, watching as Caleb pushed one of the buttons. “Attention. If anyone can hear me, please be aware that one of your guys is unconscious. He’s lying by the south west corner of the main Gulfstream hanger. He’s okay, but he might require some help. Over.” Caleb removed the battery from the radio, and disconnected the handset.
He dropped the handset into the seat pocket and met Darcy’s eyes. Caleb held her gaze, offering her a reassuring smile. “We’ll be fine,” he said.
“I know,” Darcy replied.
The plane started moving off and sped up, reaching take-off speed. The plane slowly lifted off the tarmac, and as they began to gain altitude, Murphy changed their heading to north.
They were on their way to Seattle.
“Can you please repeat that?” an angry James said, wanting to e
nsure he’d heard correctly.
“Um, yes, sir. I think we’ve been compromised,” William repeated. “I can’t get in touch with Pierre and I’ve instituted the required protocols.”
James’s anger grew. “What happened?” he asked.
“I don’t know, sir.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know? I thought you had this reporter thing under control?”
“Sir, all I can tell you is Pierre always answers his phone, and about an hour ago, when I called, he failed to pick up the call.”
“So, the reporter? Is she still out there?”
“I don’t know, sir.”
“You’d better bloody find out, William! If word gets out about what we’re doing, if the government, any government pays any attention to us this week, well, I don’t think I need to tell you about the consequences.”
“No, sir, you don’t. I do have a plan, though.”
“What is it?”
“We’ll have to reactivate him, sir.”
James hadn’t been anticipating this. He paused for a few seconds, as he considered the proposal. William was right. The agent had proven useful in the past.
“Okay. Just don’t promise him anything. We do not want animals like that as part of Phase Two. Don’t you agree?”
“Agreed, sir. I’ll make the call.”
“Alright. Off you go then”
With that, William turned to leave James’s office walking toward the door. As he approached the threshold, he turned back to James. “Sir, I was just wondering,” William began sheepishly.
“What is it, William?” James snapped, annoyed over any further interruption to his day.
“I was due to get the serum earlier, but didn’t receive it. I was just wondering when my turn would come?”
“I rescheduled you. After the incident with the reporter, I thought it best to keep you focused on that task. No reflection on you, of course…” James said, his voice filled with condescension.
“Oh.” William couldn’t keep the disappointment from his voice.
“Don’t worry. When the female reporter is nullified, I’ll ensure you’re rewarded appropriately.”
“Yes, sir, thank you, sir,” William said, and he left the room.
James stood for a few minutes, staring out the window. It was William’s quick thinking that had saved him on this occasion. Had he not thought of suggesting the agent in time, he might not have been receiving the serum at all. That was the punishment for failure, James mused. It wasn’t death, nor was it banishment.
The greatest punishment any of the colonists could receive was exclusion from receiving the serum, which would mean exclusion from Phase Two. Every colonist’s dream was to be part of the future, and William couldn’t imagine the torment that some of the former colonists had to endure. Being ignorant was one thing, but having to deal with full knowledge of the plan, and then not being completely part of it… that would be agony.
William tried to banish the thought from his mind. He had worked almost his entire adult life to get to where he was, and he wasn’t about to let a pesky reporter get in his way. He took out his phone, and dialled a number he hadn’t used in months.
The agent he was calling could best be described with only two words – brutally effective.
Any mission requested of him, he succeeded in completing. His last mission had been the most decisive - the death of the American President. The agent had completed that mission with both effectiveness and efficiency.
However, such was the nature of the mission; the colony had needed to distance themselves from him. Once the mission was complete, they ordered him into hiding, and they hadn’t contacted him since.
As an additional measure to distance themselves from the assassination, the colony had leaked information about a new terror cell – the New Light group. The measure had worked.
It worked so well in fact, that Pierre and Emmett had been leaking further information regarding New Light to various governments for months – the Americans, Chinese, British, Germans and even to smaller nations, such as Australia and Japan.
As the colony also had people embedded in most countries’ intelligence divisions, the material and information was sure to be seen and read by the appropriate people.
Over time, all the intelligence agencies had been able to talk about was New Light, and the threat it posed to world security.
While William dialled the number, he glanced at his watch. Judging by the time, he was certain Emmett would have released the latest information about New Light, and the Chinese and Americans would be in full alert mode, making it easy for the agent to come out of hiding. The phone rang but once before it was picked up.
“Where the fuck have you been?” the angry voice came clearly down the line.
“Nice to speak to you, too,” replied William.
“What do you expect? I did the job for you, and then, nothing!”
“I’m talking to you now, so just listen,” William stated coldly.
“Fine. I take it I get my serum soon though? Been a fair bit of chatter about New Light, so I’m guessing Phase Two’s about to start.”
“Indeed. As soon as the Zone Three colony has the serum, we’ll let you know the location.”
“Fine. So, what do you want?”
“I need your help.”
“My help? Lord William Z-1-4 needs my help?” The sarcasm was thick in his voice.
“Indeed. I need you to talk to Dunleavy.”
“Dunleavy?” replied the voice, his tone changing significantly. “Why now?”
“We have a problem. A reporter who may have some information about the colony, about Phase Two. And last I heard, she was on her way to see him.”
“And?”
“I need you to make contact. Find out what they spoke about.”
“I have some good news for you, William.”
“What’s that, Agent?”
“I spoke with Dunleavy no more than an hour ago. I’m meeting him tomorrow at noon.”
“Well done, Jacob! Did he say anything else?”
“No, nothing.”
“Okay then, here’s what I need you to do…”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Such was the tension on the plane, even the luxurious white leather was beginning to irritate Caleb. After ten minutes in the air, Caleb stood up and paced the cabin. He couldn’t help but think of what had happened throughout the day. It was time to fill in his team on the situation. “Dunleavy, can you watch Matthew?” he said.
“Yeah, no problem,” Mike agreed.
He stood up and followed Caleb to the back of the plane.
“Come with me, we need to talk,” Caleb requested Casey. Casey stood up, and Dunleavy took his place, settling in beside their prisoner.
Together Caleb and Casey walked back towards the front of the plane and entered the cockpit. As he walked past her, Caleb motioned for Darcy to follow.
She declined his offer, finding the seats much more amiable than her partner.
Caleb and Casey entered the small cockpit crouching so Murphy and Walker could comfortably hear them.
“Can you all hear me ok?” Caleb asked
They all gave the thumbs-up.
“Alright, I’ll start at the beginning…” Caleb recounted the events of the day, the mysterious email from Darcy’s colleague and the meeting with her boss. The drive back from Phoenix when Dunleavy spoke about Caleb’s recruitment, and their missions. The encounter with the strange men at Darcy’s apartment, and lastly, the text message sent to ‘E’ in Seattle. He gave them a moment for the information to sink in.
“I’ve only got one question, Cap?” Casey began.
“What’s that, Casey?” asked Caleb.
“Why did it take you so long to call us?”
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Caleb replied, “but guys, there’s one more thing I think you need to know.”
“Okay, sir. What is it?” asked Murphy.
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“The night the President was shot… I spoke to him. In fact, I think I was on the phone with him at the exact moment when he was shot.”
“Holy shit, sir” exclaimed Casey.
“What did he say?” asked a cautious Murphy
“Something about the ‘Source’,” Caleb replied.
“The Source?” Casey replied.
“Yeah, I don’t suppose you guys have heard of anything like that?”
“No, not me,” Casey replied.
Murphy was more reluctant to respond.
“Murph… anything ring a bell?” Caleb asked.
Murphy remained quiet for a few seconds. “Nothing comes to mind.” she said.
“Well… can you think?”
Murphy lapsed into silence again.
“Lieutenant?” Caleb prodded.
“I just remember some vague references from our missions.”
“Like what?”
“Nothing really. Like I said, it’s a bit vague.”
“So… what do you know about the Source?” asked Caleb.
“Like I said sir, I’m not sure.” Murphy replied as she glanced up at the console. “Good news is, we’re less than an hour out of Seattle.”
Caleb looked at his watch, confirming it was about five thirty in the morning. With luck, they would get to the terminal by about half-past-six, giving them some time to discover where Emmett would be.
“Time, I think, to have another chat with our young guest,” Caleb said.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Caleb made his way out of the cockpit, Casey following closely behind. As he walked past Darcy, he beckoned for her to follow. Caleb settled into the seat in front of Matthew, spinning it around so could face him.
“Now Matthew,” Caleb said, “What can you tell me about Emmett and his mission?”
Matthew glanced around at the others, looking anxious.
As he panned across the group, his gaze eventually landed on Dunleavy. As he made eye contact with the former Chief-of Staff, Matthew decided to give them any information he could. If he could help Caleb, that might in turn assist Dunleavy, and if Dunleavy was helped, then logically – at least in Matthew’s mind – it would help him receive the serum. “I can’t tell you anything about his mission, they didn’t tell me anything. But I can tell you some stuff about Emmett.”
