Sons (Book 2)

by Scott V. Duff

  “Thanks, First, I think that’ll do it,” I said, after his tenth lap, looking over astounded faces and dropped jaws. Jimmy reversed the process, slowing to a stop within a single loop. His staff reverted to the truncheon and put back on his thigh at some point during his run. “Now you won’t be able to match the First’s speed and certainly not mine, but it will be much faster. So if we can get four, somewhat equal lines formed up in front him please.”

  It got very noisy then as commanders of men have done throughout the ages: they started yelling. Like a bridge falling, the orders started in one place and repeated in several others and the parts just started falling into place. Within minutes, I had my four lines. While we waited, we planned what little we could.

  “That’s a lot of men,” squeaked Shrank as we watched them hurry into formation. “The Palace staff is not prepared to take care of them, yet, Lord.”

  “I’m not expecting them to, Shrank,” I said. “Just… supervise. They’ll have to take care of themselves through the weekend. At least as far as feeding and cleaning up after themselves go, anyway. They’re going to need help with facilities, though. A lot of things don’t work the same as they’re used to. Stoves, showers, lights, a lot of things. Do we have enough English-speaking brownies in the building to ride herd for that?”

  “Oh, yes, Lord,” Shrank replied. “The entire complement of Palace brownies speak English, Spanish and several other human languages. How many would you like assigned to the task?”

  I looked to Kieran for a suggestion. “A hundred at any given time?” I asked.

  He shrugged. “Four to one sounds reasonable.”

  “Let’s start there, but if they feel like it’s not enough, double it,” I told him. “Keep our people safe. Can you and the Deas see to that, please? Richard, did you have enough time to setup a reasonable menu and list of supplies?” I asked.

  “Mostly, yes, although moving here changes a few things, they’ll be minor and I don’t think it’ll affect the supply side,” Richard answered. “All of our problems arise from a simpler point: where do you get eighteen hundred pounds of bacon, six hundred dozen eggs, eight hundred pounds of hamburger meat, two hundred pounds of baked beans… I think you get my point here.”

  “Seven thousand eggs?” I asked in disbelief, looking over the squirming mass of men before me. “Wow, I guess I can believe that. Damn, where do you get seven thousand eggs?”

  “From seven thousand chickens?” Peter offered with a chuckle.

  “Well, I have an idea…” Dad said, a mischievous grin creeping over his face.

  “They’re ready, Seth,” Jimmy called from the Road.

  “Hold that thought, Dad,” I said. “I’m gonna need it.” Then I stood up and looked over the lines. The FBI had taken the lead in one line, which was fine because I needed to cull them out anyway, to get them back to Atlanta. I hadn’t studied much of current military procedures, but I had seen a few movies and Dad made sure I knew generalities years ago.

  What I saw were four lines of similar size. The head of one line was the FBI agents, the other three were Byrnes and his officers. Then they seemed to be broken into companies with two to three men in charge of each company.

  As I came down the steps of the throne, an officer beside Byrnes turned his head and yelled, “Ten-Hut!” That caused a cascade of repetitions that created an almost simultaneous change in stance to the ‘Attention’ position. It was almost mechanical.

  “Major,” I said, seeing the immediacy at which their orders were obeyed. “I’m going to let your officer relay commands. They seem better suited than me.”

  He gave me a wry smile. “You seem to manage well enough, Mr. McClure.”

  “Here, he is ‘Lord Daybreak’,” Jimmy said sternly.

  “It is an important differentiation,” Ethan agreed. “The Fae will take insult if his name is continually misused in his home.”

  “You may, however, continue to refer to Lord Kieran as ‘Mr. McClure’,” squealed Shrank, bobbing in the air in front of him, then shooting off in a flash of green pixie dust, his wings making a little tinkling sound in the air. The Deas were flitting above and around the formations. Chittering and laughing as they flew through, causing different reactions from the men as they did. They thought of it as playing but they were at the advantage. A simple swat would ruin their fun but the men wouldn’t do that so soon after being warned.

  Jimmy saw it, too, and I felt the Road surge off its tracks as he used it to move to the far end of the row the two fairies were flying down. “Hold this,” Jimmy muttered as he handed his staff to the soldier on his right. The corporal took the staff automatically, almost robotically, then realized he was holding a hard, metal rod blazing with blue fire. The look on his face suggested apoplexy and if he didn’t start breathing again soon, he would probably fall over, but I thought he’d be all right for a moment. In the mean time, Jimmy reached up in the air and snatched both fairies from their lazy skyward arcs; they hadn’t seen him coming, he’d been that fast.

  “What do you two think you’re doing?” Jimmy said in a loud and scolding voice, holding both of them in a fist by their legs. Somehow he wasn’t hurting them, but they were definitely uncomfortable.

  “Just playing, First of Gilán,” Deason squeaked nervously, with Deacon piping in behind him, “Yes, First. We were just playing. We meant no harm, sir.” They made it sound so plaintive.

  “No, you weren’t ‘just playing’,” Jimmy said, disbelieving their story. “You were taunting them just because they are different from you. You might consider where you would be if Lord Daybreak felt that way. Most of these men are nice but misguided people. You may even like a few of them once you get to know them. But you will not badger them anymore than they will badger you. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, First!” they squealed together at nearly eardrum-piercing pitches. I was thankful they’d chosen English. Any Fae dialect would have been excruciatingly long. Jimmy released them and turned to retrieve his staff. He chuckled when the man wouldn’t let go of it. He was still staring at it, sort of catatonic. Jimmy shrunk his stick and slipped it from the man’s grasp quickly.

  “Breathe, big guy,” he said, patting the man in the chest heartily, grinning big. “In through the nose and out through the mouth. You’ll survive.” Another surge of power through the Road and Jimmy was back at the front of the line. It was a quick and impressive display, and it certainly went along with my feelings without hurting either side. Score one for Jimmy.

  “Thank you, First,” I said, glancing back on my right as he slipped in directly behind me. Turning back to the Major, I said, “What we’re going to do is follow the Road around the loop and down the corridor to the smaller array of barracks with facilities. We want to walk, pick up a little speed, then slow down, then stop. All together about five minutes, max.”

  “Shouldn’t be a problem, Lord Daybreak,” Byrnes said with a short nod.

  “Wanna lay odds on the collision rates?” Messner muttered to his partner.

  I just ignored him, but I wanted the thirty to thirty-three percent range personally. Couldn’t say that, though, so instead, “Let’s get this party rolling then, Major. Follow us.” Kieran, Ethan, Dad, and Richard stayed put by some unspoken agreement between them to take the rear of the line. Shrank and the chastised Deason stayed with them. So with Jimmy on my right and Peter on my left, I led four hundred and some odd number of Army and Marine soldiers down the looping Road and into the corridor. Deacon stayed close to Jimmy’s left side, not wanting to incite further problems.

  Once everyone was clear of the Throne Room, I increased our pace as the Palace came to life in front of us, lights blossoming ahead of us as it sensed our presence, eager to be active. The near-perfect cadence of the march moved us along quickly, but the Palace kept pace with us, lights gleaming like gems in the tall ceiling which may even be gems. We passed doors and windows along the hallway in blur as we traveled two-thirds of
the Palaces’ wing to the barracks. I warned them of imminent slowing and listened remotely for the call.

  Not one collision occurred when we stopped at the door of Barracks Four. Now I was glad I hadn’t actually wagered. Slapping the granite slab that served as the door was enough to make it slide back on its track and swing wide to reveal the front offices of the barracks as well as the half-dozen brownies waiting patiently on the desk.

  “Evenin’, guys,” I said cordially and smiling at the little brownies. “I really appreciate y’all helping us out and I’m amazed that you got here this fast.”

  They all looked surprised for a moment, then in high-pitched English, the shorter of the middle brownies stepped forward and said, “Good Evening, Lord Daybreak. It is a great honor to be of any service.” As a unit they bowed from the waist, foreheads scant quarter-inches off the desktop.

  I chuckled. “C’mon, stand up. You’re making me feel self-conscious.” Two of them bolted upright in fear while the other four stood quickly, startled. Shrank trilled and whistled something over my shoulder I didn’t catch and they calmed considerably.

  “The Regent relayed that you required the barracks, the kitchens, laundry services, and recreational services made available here, Lord Daybreak. Will a separation of officers or genders also be necessary?”

  “I assume yes on both,” I answered. “Would it be a problem to let them worry about that?”

  “None, Lord, it is simply a matter of organization,” the brownie answered.

  “Is there any chance that you have a map?” I asked him.

  “No, Lord, but we can prepare one.”

  “Probably should,” I said, nodding. “Get a few dozen copies made for them. Not everyone has a built-in sense of direction. I’m going to have to hand you guys off to First, though. I’ve still got a million things to do today.” Turning back through my increasing entourage of people, I raised my voice and called into the corridor, “Major Byrnes? Come in here, please.”

  Byrnes walked in after a moment with the same three officers in tow as before. The quartet shared a mild flushing of the skin, an exhilaration of their jog on the Road.

  “Okay, I’ve got to get to Ireland to talk to Felix or Gordon as soon as possible,” I said, rubbing my face tiredly. It was beginning to wear on me. “Not to mention get my dad back to my mom. Then I have to start working on getting food shipped in and frankly, dinner myself. So this is what I need to happen here.

  “Major, the brownies are here to facilitate your stay here, not to watch over you as prison guards. You and your men are free to do as you see fit within the confines of the barracks. First is in charge and will adjudicate any issues. Everyone introduce each other, learn each others’ names. Walk the area. Move the men in. Get the mess staff into kitchens, learning the equipment. Richard, you take Steven and keep working on a supply list with the mess staff, please. David, will you stay with Major Byrnes and start getting together a supply list of other incidentals and a wish list? Correlate that list with the First and one of these brownies against the Palace stores. Set up supply runs to stores as you see fit.

  “Try to get me lists of what we don’t have here in an hour, hour and a half at the most,” I said, winding down. “I know that’s a tight time limit, but it’s gonna be just as tight on the supply side.” Looking around the room, I couldn’t think of anything else here that had to be done. Delegation was a must at this point. There just weren’t enough hours in the day.

  “First, do you want the Deas with you?” I asked him.

  “Aerial views may be helpful at times, so yes, please, Lord,” Jimmy said, stepping up to the desk and nodding politely to the brownies still standing there nervously listening. He’d lost the flames since leaving the Throne Room, but he still had a pale blue sheen coming from his skin.

  Nodding, I looked around the room, trying to see if I’d forgotten anyone. I called back through my entourage again, “Could I get the FBI in here, please?” Messner and his men walked in quickly, having been listening at the door. “The rest of us are going to my office. Richard, Steven doesn’t have a key yet, so don’t let him stray too far from you.” Then I shifted the ten of us to my office.

  “For five minutes, I am a decision-free zone,” I declared, already falling into the cushions of the lounge chair behind me. “Somebody else talk, please, I’m begging!”

  “Even he thinks he’s been talking a lot!” Ethan crowed, laughing at me.

  “I thought he was doing just fine!” Dad said defensively.

  “No one would dare say he wasn’t, here,” muttered Messner, suddenly seeing the giant-sized blue and purple flowered bush that towered over his head. The alcove I brought us to was part of anteroom to my quarters, the waiting room to my office, really. As with most of my spaces, it was big and open and full of life.

  “They would,” I said, waving a hand at Kieran, Ethan, and Peter, disagreeing with him. “Not in front of everyone, but I’d hear about it, trust me.”

  “But while we have you talking, Agent Messner,” Peter said. “What do we do with you, now? I mean, we already have enough problems with the government as it is. We don’t want to add the FBI to the list, too. Seth brought you with us for your safety, not to kidnap you, and we have no plans to keep you against your will.” Peter cut his eyes over at me for confirmation. Nodding slightly, I wanted to keep quiet for a few minutes. “And we would much prefer to return the men to your care on Thursday morning should you be able to make arrangements to that affect. Honestly, we’d prefer tomorrow morning.”

  “The Pentagon’s response will have to be answered,” Messner said sternly. “But I admit that it’s not likely that a charge of treason will stand for each man.”

  “I really didn’t expect it,” I responded. “Even if it is true. It should still fall within your purview, shouldn’t it? It’s an interstate conspiracy involving a huge number of people, especially when considering the target involved is civilian and when you add the fact that it’s government agencies involved…”

  “I don’t know. It depends on what kind of spin Echols and his leash-holders will put on it,” Messner admitted.

  Peter sighed. I sighed. “So what do you want to do now?” Peter asked again.

  Glancing over at his fellow agents, Messner answered, “Eat, sleep and shower, in any order, anything else can wait till morning.” He got a few mild chuckles out of us for that.

  “I think we can arrange that,” Peter said. “Mike, would you take them to my apartment, please? Get them something to eat and set them up in a couple of spare rooms. Just let Daybreak know when you’re done.” That part was for Messner and crew. Peter only referred to me as Daybreak in the third person and he didn’t have with Mike.

  “Yes, sir,” Mike said, moving to the agents. “All right, gents. Let’s gather ‘round. Do you remember your day care days? Hands on the shoulders of the one in front of you?” The hint of condescending humor was unmistakable in Ferrin’s pale blue eyes, but I understood the attitude. He’d been the ultimate street thug, to some degree, doing just barely enough illegal activities to be noticed by someone at Messner’s level in his country. And here he was, part of a team that just pulled off a major heist of men right under their noses and were getting away with it. It was an odd way of thinking to me, but who was I to judge? “Now, don’t let go. Don’t want anybody materializing in the middle of a…”

  “Did he do that on purpose?” Kieran asked.

  Peter’s eyes flew to mine locking into the image of pure naïveté that question had and the pure shock that Kieran uttered it. Dad on the other hand laughed his ass off. He was barely sitting in the chair, leaning forward, when he sort of heaved and clutched. The fabrics were slick and boom! On the ground. Ethan lost it and burst out laughing. Peter and I weren’t far behind, and Dad never stopped. Only Shrank didn’t laugh and Kieran just flushed in embarrassment.

  “Yes, son, that was the joke,” Dad said told him in heaves as he slowed his laught
er.

  “Well, while you have the floor,” I quipped, causing everybody to wince at the pun. “What was your idea for supplies?”

  “A couple of variations on the same theme,” he said cheerfully. “But, I think we should steal it from the military.”

  Chuckling, I asked, “Do you have a plan for doing that?”

  “Need to do a little reconnaissance and some spying, but I think we can get quite a bit of the bulk product from quartermaster stores. I bet if we can find the right information, we can steal it from our beloved Colonel Echols, even.” Okay, that got our attention. We formulated a quick plan to that allowed me to talk to Felix while everyone else investigated the possibilities of raiding a military base for food.

  “You realize, though, if Echols was having anything brought here, it was MREs, right?” Peter asked Dad.

  “Hey, it’s food and it’s not as bad as it used to be, trust me,” Dad answered, blanching at the thought of them.

  “What’s an ‘MRE’?” I asked.

  “’Meals-Ready to Eat’,” Peter said. “Freeze-dried, preservative-laden crap in a box.”

  “Emergency rations,” Dad added, shaking his head mildly at Peter’s response. “But at least something for tonight.”

  “Not wanting to be a wet blanket or anything, but has anyone considered the ethical implications of this idea?” I asked. “It is stealing, no matter the justification. And I seem to recall somewhere in my childhood my parents teaching me that stealing is wrong.”