by Peter Hoole
She nodded back to him. While her nod said she was ok, Caleb knew her well enough to know when she was lying.
The firefight had hurt Darcy, and sent her mind spinning. Coupled with the exploding plane and the fear for her boyfriend’s safety, Darcy had just had arguably the worst twenty minutes of her life.
It was taking all her strength not to completely freak out.
Caleb went over and hugged her, knowing that his touch would have no real influence. As he held her, she began to relax. Not a rainfall of tears that would be expected. No, Darcy was stronger than that. Tears welled in her eyes, a combination of relief and fear. Emotions she had experienced before, but not to the level she was feeling at that moment.
She was in a dark place, and Caleb remembered the first time he had been in a similar place. While the eventual proximity to his paramour helped, it took much longer until he was able to sleep again. All he could do was be there for her, to help her through it as much as he could.
“Sir,” Casey said quietly, “we need to get going. Others will arrive on site, and we won’t have a chance.”
Caleb’s head was spinning, and he struggled to regain his composure. But, being the seasoned veteran, he was eventually able to compartmentalise what he was feeling, and, once again, he took the lead.
Still holding Darcy, he spoke first to Murphy. “Can we use the SUV? Was there keys in it?”
“Yes sir. After I got this secured,” she replied, referring to the captured woman, “Darcy did a quick check of the car.”
Darcy pushed away, also trying to flip the switch back into focus. “Yeah, I’ve got the keys. There’s plenty of equipment in the car. Various weapons, and the car seems fully tricked out.”
Caleb looked at her. “Well done,” he told her. “Okay then. Dunleavy, you take over from Murphy.”
Dunleavy moved into position, and pulled out his firearm. He pointed it at the prisoner.
“If she moves… you have my permission to take her out,” Caleb continued. “Casey, Murphy. The three of us will load up the SUV”
“Yes, sir,” they replied, almost in unison.
“Darcy, pass me the keys.” Darcy complied. “Now, you and Mike secure the prisoner,” Caleb said. “She comes with us. Matthew won’t be joining us again.”
“What happened out there?” asked Murphy, a tablet and her other equipment in her arms.
“We’ll debrief in the car. We’ll be leaving in two minutes. Let’s move, people.”
Without further instruction, the group went about their tasks. Once the prisoner was secured, Darcy and Dunleavy walked her into the rear of the SUV. Designed to carry eight passengers – driver, passenger, then two rows of three seats. Darcy and Dunleavy sat the prisoner in the middle of the back row of seats. Dunleavy sat directly on her right, the gun pointed at her throughout the short walk.
“Okay, Darc,” Caleb yelled out, “that’s the last of it. Into the car.”
Darcy turned, and opened the left rear passenger door, the same position she’d sat on the journey from Phoenix.
“No way, Darcy,” Caleb said, opening the front passenger door for her. “You’re not leaving my side until this is over. You’re in shotgun.”
The small action helped Darcy forget her previous trauma, momentarily at least.
The rest of the team entered the vehicle. Casey sat on the other side of the prisoner, with Murphy taking up a seat in the middle of the SUV. Her backpack was next to her. From that, she pulled out her tablet, and a laptop.
“Everybody set?” Caleb asked. Everybody either nodded or replied in the affirmative. Caleb started up the car. The engine was much quieter than he’d anticipated, and the car purred to life. He turned the vehicle around, facing towards the road that led to the abandoned building.
As they headed towards the street, they passed what looked like offices and maintenance hangars. On a typical Sunday morning, there would be many cars and trucks pulling in to start work and make deliveries. This was far from a typical Sunday morning.
As they drove west along the short road, most of the cars and trucks were heading in the same direction, panicked into forcing their way into traffic.
Caleb, a seasoned driver in unusual conditions, weaved in and out of the impending log-jam with ease. The task was made easier due to the Sunday morning traffic, and Caleb appreciated that it would have been worse on a weekday.
“Turn left at the end, sir,” Murphy said from behind him, looking at the GPS software on her tablet.
Caleb did as she suggested. The cars were thinning out, leaving the road to let additional emergency service vehicles through.
Darcy turned on the radio, trying to get updates.
Caleb quickly turned it off.
“Babe, not just yet – I’m sure people will be talking about this for a while,” he said.
The car approached an intersection. They could choose to either travel west or east. “Where to Murphy?” Caleb asked.
“Depends where you want to go?” Murphy asked. “I recommend west. We need to get to a safe location. Anywhere but Seattle.”
Caleb knew she was right. Seattle might as well have been Afghanistan, such was the danger and anarchy present.
Caleb turned west, and headed along 154th St, towards the Pacific Highway. There were fewer cars on the road, as many people had been scared away from the area. As he approached the highway, Caleb veered right. Turning south on the highway, they were on their way.
They sped along the open road, with many of the normal road users absent. There were smatterings of vehicles and people, but not many.
As Caleb looked towards the horizon, he could see the smoke still billowing from the plane’s wreckage. He could only imagine the horror of the people still on the scene. People that had no idea it was coming that day. People who had just gone to work, to make enough money to look after their families. While Caleb had prepared himself for the possibility of the attack actually happening, he was still shocked it had occurred.
As they drove past the airport, they all looked out towards the smoke.
“What happened Caleb? Did you find Emmett?” asked Darcy.
“Yes… we found him,” replied Caleb, his eyes betraying him.
“So, what happened?”
“It was Matthew.”
Darcy was stunned. She’d thought she had built a real rapport with the young man. Ever since she’d stopped Caleb from hurting him in L.A., Darcy had done everything she could to keep him calm, and to keep him safe.
“What? What happened?” she asked again.
Caleb told her how he had tackled Emmett, and the aftermath. He told her that it was Matthew who fired the rocket.
As he told Darcy of the events, the rest of the car listened to the details, and looked at the wreckage. They all had the same forlorn look on their face.
Even Dunleavy.
The only one with a different look was the prisoner, who for some macabre reason, could not hide her smile. For her, the mission had been an unmitigated success. Yes, she had lost some team-members. And yes, Pierre’s crew were no more.
But, as instructed by her superior, Robert, her primary objective was to ensure the success of the mission. That objective had been achieved and she had done as she was told. She had also been given another set of instructions - instructions that were not given to the rest of her team.
In the case of capture, she was to follow a secondary plan. Now, she was just biding her time, until she was required to act.
Casey noticed the prisoner’s smile, and whacked her in the stomach.
While it was indeed more common that enemy combatants were male, the same treatment of women was also practised. After all, just because she was a woman did not mean she was not a threat. Hand-to-hand combat training with Murphy had taught him that.
The body blow sent a jolt through the prisoner’s body, and the smile evaporated. The content look in her eyes was replaced by one of hatred, and that hate she directed
towards Casey.
It was then Casey’s turn to smile. “Before you ask,” he said, directing his words towards the prisoner, “yes… I am glad I did it. And yes… it was satisfying. Was it as good for you as it was for me?”
The car continued down the highway for several minutes before Dunleavy spoke up. “Jackson,” he said, the gun still pointed at the prisoner, “Where are we headed?”
Caleb looked at Dunleavy through the rear view mirror. “Los Angeles, if we can get there,” he replied.
“We won’t make it,” Dunleavy said, sounding annoyed. “Shit, Jackson, we’re in a car that’s owned by the enemy. Fuck – they’re probably tracking us right now!”
The thought had crossed Caleb’s mind.
He knew the Colonials were stepping up their measures to get rid of them. It was evident by the latest batch of people sent to kill them. They were much more technically proficient that Pierre and Matthew, and it was only through luck that Casey and he had survived at the airport.
They were surely being tracked.
“Okay, we’ll pull over soon,” Caleb said to Dunleavy. “There’s something I need to ask our guest.”
Chapter Thirty
William knew there was something wrong. It was the first time he found himself sitting in that room.
The room had a simple configuration. The floors and walls were atypical of the design of the colony, built for efficiency, not decorative value. There was no thought put into the aesthetic aspects of the colonies design, each room served a purpose, and was built in such a way that it was both easy to build, and easy to take down. While the rooms themselves were all designed in the same way, each had its own subtle variations. Helen’s lab had the chairs and the injectors, the quarters had enough beds for the inhabitants, and the engineering labs had the specific equipment. Some of the rooms were quite elaborate with the equipment inside.
This particular room was also unique to the rest of the colony. In the centre of the room was a large, circular table. But any similarities to King Arthur’s Round Table ended there.
The table was designed more for ease of discussion rather that to provide a feeling of equality. James had ensured that the table was used only on rare occasions, as there was far too much work to be done. Around the table, there were places for sixteen people. The leaders of the fifteen colonies, plus a scribe. The meetings were only ever recorded on paper, so as to avoid any discussions being leaked.
No person, apart from those directly involved in the discussions, had ever been privy to their goings on.
As William entered the room, he saw James sitting in one of the positions. He did not look happy.
As all the other colony leaders were busy in their various locations, the rest of the positions were filled by digital monitors, displaying the faces of the other fourteen colony leaders.
Zach and John were on monitors, directly on the left and right of James. Robert was one place to the right of Zach. On the other monitors, were other faces he recognised, albeit some of them with much younger features than previously. Albert from Central Europe, Nicholas from Middle Europe, Charles from Northern Africa. They were all there.
Some of them had obviously already received the serum, and looked much more alert than their colleagues. They would all receive the serum in due time.
There was one empty chair, the chair the scribe would normally occupy. James pointed towards an empty chair, ordering William to sit.
William made his way around the table, nodding in greeting to the faces on the monitors he could see. They all seemed as unimpressed as James.
When he sat down, the monitors turned to face James. There was no doubting who the leader was.
James cleared his throat. “As I’m sure you are all aware,” he began, “the mission in Northwest of Zone Three has met its objective.”
A round of applause generated from the rest of the monitors, and William joined them in his ovation.
“Now, let us not get ahead of ourselves,” James continued, his young features hiding his maturity. “We have a few issues that need to be resolved. Robert, can you please provide us with an update?”
The monitor two places to James’s right moved to face the group, and the other monitors followed.
“Indeed. While the plane went down, we do still have a concern. The reporter who entered Haven a few days ago managed to send an email to his colleague in Zone Three.”
Murmurings rumbled through the group. Discontent was palpable.
“The intention was to track the email, so as to identify who else might know about the location of the colony. We attached a tracker to the email.” Robert paused as he pressed a few buttons below his monitor, unseen by everyone else. “If you’ll turn your attention to your monitors,” he instructed.
A picture of Darcy appeared. “The email was sent to this woman, a reporter for the LA Examiner. Fortunately, the email seemed to make no sense, and she has since been trying to discover more details.”
“Isn’t that a bit dangerous?” Albert said.
Robert continued describing the actions of Darcy, ignoring Albert’s question. Robert outlined the details, including Darcy’s trip to Dunleavy and her conversation with Chucky. “This, is where it became a problem,” Robert said. “Two men were sent to Ms. Chamberlain’s apartment, and we haven’t heard from them since. The apartment has since become a crime scene, and, as you can imagine, all of our resources are elsewhere.”
The rest of the colony leaders began shifting uneasily in their seats, their actions clearly visible in the monitors.
“Now, the last we saw of her, was at her apartment.”
“Where did she go?” one of the leaders asked.
“Seattle,” replied Robert
“But, the plane. In Seattle. It was shot down.”
“Indeed, my thoughts are that they were too late, and our asset completed his mission. Anyway, we sent a team up to Seattle to clean up any mess, and to make sure the mission was completed.”
“Were they successful?”
“We don’t know. We lost contact with them about fifteen minutes ago.”
James was getting more and more annoyed. “Enough!” he exclaimed. “We cannot let this situation continue.”
“Wait, sir. I have one more thing.”
“Are you joking, Robert? What? What is it?”
“The leader of the group, she has been given instructions in the case of her capture.”
“And those instructions are?”
“To convince the group to come to the colony.”
The rest of the monitors erupted. They were shouting at Roberts’s screen, words that the colonists seldom used. The cacophony of noise was rising to a crescendo, when James intervened. “SILENCE!” he shouted.
Within a second, the room grew quiet, the governors waiting with anticipation. James paced the room, and William watched. James was very studious and considerate of all points of view. He was, by far, the fairest man William knew. That’s why he had complete faith in him, even when he decided to punish people.
After nearly a minute of waiting, James spoke. “That’s brilliant, Robert,” he said.
There were murmurings among the governors.
“You’ve done the right thing. It is pointless looking for them, they could be anywhere by now. But, they are looking for you. Lay out enough breadcrumbs, and they’ll come to you.”
Robert smiled at the approval to his plan. “Sir,” Robert began, “all of our troops are ready to go. There’s no way that they’ll be able to cope with them.”
“How many do you have on standby?”
Robert considered the question. “About one thousand. I could triple that with the serum.”
“Okay then,” said James, turning to Zach’s monitor. “Zach, have your people been treated?”
“We’re about half way through,” Zach replied
“Good. Send over a sample to Zone Three right away. Send it in the jet.” James turned his attentio
n back to Robert. “Robert, it will be there in a few hours.”
“Thank you, sir,” the Zone Three leader responded.
William had been listening to the conversation, and he saw a flaw in the plan. However, he remembered one of the lessons James had taught him. Never present a problem without a solution. And William had a solution. “Sir, if I may?” William said, showing no fear.
“What is it, William?” James snapped. “You are only here to observe”
“Sir, if I may – I see a problem with the plan.”
“Indeed, William, I think we all see it.”
“Yes, sir. Of course you do. I… I think I have a solution.”
“Yes?”
“Well, in the case that Robert’s man—”
“Woman,” Robert interrupted.
“Woman,” William continued, “It may be the case that she hasn’t been captured at all, I have a solution.”
“And what is it, William?”
“I’ve been in touch with him, sir. The agent.”
“And?”
“He’s on his way to meet Dunleavy.”
James considered William’s words. “Ok...” James looked around at the other monitors. “I think we need to take an extra precaution…” he said.
The others waited, anticipating the final piece of the solution.
“Robert, Zach, John… are your intelligence contacts still in place?” he asked his closest friends.
They nodded in virtual unison.
“Good,” James began. “Because I think it’s about time New Light had a leader.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Darcy returned to the car. “We’ve got rooms five and six. There’s an adjoining door, so we can walk between the two,” Darcy said to the waiting group.
“Thanks Darcy,” replied Caleb.
It had been twenty minutes since they’d left the airport. After travelling south, they had pulled into the motel, a two storey complex not unlike many others they had passed on the way. They’d travelled more than fifteen miles from the airport, but the repercussions were still being felt.
The motel clerk, distracted by the small television at his desk, needed several prompts before attending to Darcy at the main counter. Darcy had little trouble organising the adjacent rooms, and had paid cash, not-so-generously donated by Dunleavy.
