by Jaz Primo
“Don’t worry, we’ll decide upon a location to meet up when we’re done and then come looking for you if you don’t show,” I assured him.
“I’m happy to hear you’re one of those ‘leave nobody behind’ sorts of guys,” he said dryly.
“Damn straight,” I said with a nod.
Sanders shook her head. “We need more women on this mission. You sound like two stereotypical guys from a cheesy action movie.”
Scott gave her a wry look and pressed the map into her hands.
“Funny. I’m gonna take one more walk and call it a night. Call my room in the morning when you’re ready to head out. I’ll be up and ready by 4am,” he said. “G’night.”
We watched him walk away.
“You’re all heart, Sanders.”
She started walking toward the hotel lobby entrance.
“What can I say? Dad watched those lame films when I was growing up,” she said with a shrug.
“No action movies for you?” I asked, catching up to her.
“Ballet and musicals,” she replied.
“Ugh.”
“Stow it, Bringer.”
Chapter 8
I woke before Sanders.
Though I had managed a reasonable amount of sleep, the couch was less comfortable than I’d imagined, so I wasn’t averse to rising early.
I roused Sanders, who groaned at me. “You’re a real bummer, Bringer. Remind me never to go on vacation with you again.”
I brewed coffee and called Scott and Strutt.
By 4am, Meg and I made our way down a staff service hallway on the first floor to the back of the hotel while Scott and Strutt spaced their departures through the main lobby entrance and headed in opposite directions.
Meg and I were remarkably successful in our departure by following the best advice I’d ever received: act like you belong there, or at least like you know what you’re doing.
Nobody bothered us as we walked out through the shipping and receiving area at the rear of the hotel and into a nearby alleyway.
It was surprising how much traffic and activity there was in the city for that time of morning, but it only helped to further mask our activities.
“I hope Strutt makes it to where he’s supposed to meet up with us,” Sanders said, clutching her notebook computer closely to her.
We briskly made our way three blocks away from the hotel, though not in such a hurry that we garnered unwanted attention.
Outside of a still-closed bakery, we waited only about ten minutes before Strutt pulled up in a black, compact rental car.
“Any problems?” I asked, pushing forward the passenger seat for Sanders to get in.
“Hey, why do you get to sit up front?” she asked.
“Can you make the fireballs, if needed?”
She shook her head and squeezed onto the back seat. “Point well made.”
“No problems,” Strutt replied to my earlier query. “I took extra turns down two side streets because I thought I was followed for a time by two men in a white sedan. I lost them, for now.”
“Well, let’s not linger until they catch up,” Sanders urged.
We made our way through town and then back-tracked through the city using an electronic map that Sanders brought up on her notebook.
“Remind me to thank Tevin for that when we get back,” I said.
The NSA deputy director had proven very helpful recently. While it was hard determining who to trust, it was nice knowing that we could at least rely on Tevin and FBI Deputy Director Wainright.
Unfortunately, that still left a large number of prospective powerful enemies on the table.
We need to narrow that list down soon, too.
“Bringer? You awake?” Sanders asked.
“Huh? Yeah, what?”
“Should we take the most direct route or bypass the site and double back once we’re sure we’re not being followed?”
“Direct route,” I replied. “I don’t want to give the bloodhounds any more time to find us than necessary.”
Sanders gave Strutt directions while I contemplated Continuance Corporation. I needed a way to get inside their heads, to figure out what it was they wanted and what their next targets might be.
Since I was the only person with the abilities to counter others like me, it was imperative that I located them before they struck again.
I stifled a yawn.
Hell, I don’t even have any clue as to what targets they might want to strike.
I felt like I was struggling to solve a mystery without any tangible clues or leads. Of course, I hoped that would all change once we arrived at our intended destination.
We pulled up outside a locked security gate within the hour, just as a predawn glow formed in the east.
“Strutt, drive the car up the road and park on the next side street you come to. Then walk back down here and meet up with us inside,” I ordered. “Meg will bring the notebook with us.”
“Yes, sir,” Strutt replied.
Sanders and I exited the vehicle and watched Strutt drive away.
“I don’t suppose you know how to pick a padlock?” I asked.
“Actually, no.”
I shrugged and extended my right palm toward the gate, drawing on my power and imagining a giant wrecking ball swinging forward.
The gate propelled inward like a truck had impacted it, snapping the chain that secured it closed.
“Show off,” Sanders said.
We walked along the asphalt driveway. The grass and foliage had overgrown the edges of it like some unruly monstrosity that was progressively pressing past its containment area. The early morning shadows lent the environment an eerie mood.
“This is a grim place,” she said.
I had to agree.
After following the winding route, we made our way up to the front of the abandoned facility, which looked like a throwback to the dark days of turn of the century asylums and sanitariums.
The reinforced steel front doors, though rusty, were ajar, and creaked loudly as I pressed past them. A musty, decayed smell permeated the area.
Sanders and I produced flashlights, though I was half-tempted to conjure a fireball in one hand, just for reassurance and peace of mind.
The place looked like the perfect hangout for all manner of spirits, restless and otherwise.
Upturned and broken old furniture and paint-peeled walls were the décor of the day. The tiled floor was in disrepair, though a variety of fresh-looking scuffs and footprints were evident.
“People have been rummaging around here not terribly long ago,” Sanders ventured.
“Yeah, but who, I wonder,” I said. “Vagrants, maybe?”
We proceeded through the main lobby and into nearby areas that appeared to be clinic rooms and offices. More dated remnants were strewn here and there, as if some creepy asylum museum had been ransacked and then forsaken.
However, as we proceeded deeper into the facility, through patient rooms and surgical areas, the place appeared much more recently utilized.
In fact, though abandoned, some offices and patient rooms had viable furniture inside them.
At the end of one central ward, we discovered burned areas and breached places along the walls, as if exploded outward.
At one point, the roof was peeled back, revealing blue sky and the glow of the sunrise above.
“What the hell happened in here?” Sanders asked. “I mean, it looks like someone was testing explosives or something.”
“Nah, they were testing someone, or a number of someones,” I countered. “This wasn’t munitions. This was people like me.”
She gave me a hard look.
“Yeah, this is exactly what I feared when I saw Tevin’s video,” I said. “I just wonder how many were here.”
“Crap,” she muttered.
I shone my flashlight against a far wall where it looked like lightning had struck the area; rivulets of cascading lines in the wall and floor suggested
that electricity had coursed throughout the room.
Another patient room was completely marred with scorched and burned patches, including nearly incinerated furniture. The windows had been completely blown outward, as well.
“Bringer, who are these people?”
I shined my light on a nearby wall. There was the outline of a human body with arms extended outward. The wall itself was blackened, like charcoal.
“Looks like somebody got pissed off at someone else,” I remarked.
Sanders started taking photos with her smartphone, the flash highlighting eerie-looking imagery at intervals.
Muted footsteps sounded in the distance, prompting Sanders to cease taking photos.
I motioned for her to stay put and turned off my flashlight while quietly making my way back down the hallway.
Holding out my hand to generate a fireball at a moment’s notice, I peered around the corner of the hallway.
“Bringer? Sanders?” Strutt called.
I relaxed. “Strutt, we’re down here.”
He joined us as Sanders resumed taking photos.
“Jesus, this is horrific,” he said.
“Let’s look around and see if there are any other clues or paperwork left that’s useful,” I suggested.
Though we didn’t find anything of merit, I did begin to piece together some of the evidence surrounding us.
“Well, it looks like we’re still in the dark,” Sanders said. “Sorry, pun not intended.”
At least the sun was beginning to generate a glow through the breaches in the ceiling and wall, as well as the nearby windows.
“Actually, we know some things,” I said.
“Such as?”
“By the damages here, I’d say we’re dealing with people who can channel or manipulate electricity, fire, brute forces, and maybe something else that I haven’t seen before,” I said.
“Brute forces?” Strutt asked.
“Yeah, I don’t know how else to describe it,” I said. “Like when I imagine something big and propel it against a structure, or maybe levitate and throw objects.”
“What do you mean by ‘something else you haven’t seen before’?” asked Sanders.
“Something like an explosion, but with heat and force, though not like fire,” I estimated. “I dunno. It just doesn’t look like fire.”
“This all seems fresh, too,” Strutt said.
“Yeah, fairly recent,” I agreed.
“Maybe we got lucky and they incinerated each other,” Strutt offered. “There’s a lot of damage here.”
I shook my head. “No. Look closer. There’s places here and there where you’ll see faded circles on the floor or against a wall. That’s where shields were generated. Those people are still among the living.”
“So whoever did this is out there somewhere,” Sanders said.
“Yeah, I’m thinkin’ that’s the case,” I said.
“Why were these people here in the first place?” Strutt asked.
“There’s a lot of ruined medical equipment strewn here and there, and you’ll notice that some of these patient rooms look like they were occupied,” I said. “I’m willing to bet this is where people were either tested or experimented on.”
“You think this is where their abilities were created or manifested?” Sanders asked.
“Maybe,” I replied. “At least, that’s as good an explanation as any.”
“Ground zero for Continuance Corporation’s telekinetic programs?” Strutt asked.
I gave him a suspicious look.
He gave me an innocent shrug. “Mr. Bernard explained what we might be up against here. In addition, I helped put together persons of interest lists for Nuclegene following the Wallace Building bombing. Mr. Bernard has always suspected Continuance Corporation.”
I relaxed somewhat. “Well, it might be ground zero, or just one of however many other locations around the world. Who knows, really?”
I couldn’t help wondering if the Belarusian authorities knew that Continuance had been operating here.
Of course, even if they had, I realized that, if they were facing telekinetics who could do what I saw before me, what could the Belarusian government have expected to do against them with any effectiveness?
“I think I have about all the images we need,” Sanders prompted. “What now?”
I gave the immediate area one last look.
“Well, let’s wrap it up before others arrive,” I said. “And when I say others, I mean most anybody.”
We made our way to the front of the facility and cautiously peeked out through the main doors before proceeding back toward the main gate. In truth, I felt happy to be leaving that dreary place.
When we arrived at the main gate, a lone man stood in the middle of the driveway. The hard edge to his expression was at odds with what I considered to be rather youthful-looking features. He folded his hands calmly before him, striking a non-hostile pose.
“Mr. Bringer, I presume?” he asked with a slight English accent.
Great, I thought. Now who the hell is this?
Chapter 9
I stared at the man before us, countering his hard expression with one of my own.
“Please, I’m not armed and I mean no harm,” he stated. “I’m here on behalf of the British government to request your immediate assistance.”
“The British government?” Sanders challenged. “And just who are you supposed to be, James Bond?”
“Agent Sanders, my name is Colin Fisk,” he replied. “MI-6.”
“I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to just blurt that out,” she said. “And just how to you know me?”
He shrugged. “I hoped that my forthrightness might encourage a dialogue. And it shouldn’t surprise you that MI-6 is familiar with many of the individuals that surround Mr. Bringer, though I confess, I don’t recognize the gentleman with you.”
“Calvin Strutt, Nuclegene Corporation.”
I glanced over my shoulder at Strutt. “Let’s not get chummy all at once here.”
“Of course,” Fisk offered, holding his arms out to his sides. “If you’d care to search me for weapons, perhaps I can set your minds further at ease.”
Sanders handed her notebook to Strutt and stepped forward to pat down Fisk while I scanned the immediate area and opened up my mind to nearby thoughts.
…never met a British agent before. Sorta cute.
My attention lingered on Sanders.
…wait until Mr. Bernard hears about this.
…imperative that Bringer agrees to help.
Nothing else came up, so I felt more comfortable that Fisk might be alone. Of course, I wasn’t exactly sure how far my sensory range might be, either.
“If you’re looking for others, Mr. Bringer, I can assure you that I came here alone,” Fisk offered.
“Fine,” I said. “But let’s not talk out here in the open. We really should be leaving.”
“Of course,” he said. “However, you may be interested to know that a CIA team arrived in theater this morning.”
I looked at Sanders, who had stepped back from Fisk and nodded at me.
“Yeah, we’d like to keep this between us for now,” I said.
“Shall we proceed?” Fisk asked, gesturing toward the road.
“All right, just stay with us,” I said, taking the lead to walk toward the main road. “But if you try anything funny, I’ll cook you where you stand.”
“Ah, well then,” he said. “I’m happy to oblige.”
* * *
I felt relief as we finally drove away from the area. Strutt was at the wheel while Sanders sat up front. I shared the back seat with Fisk so that I could keep an eye on him for the time being.
“How about sharing with us why you’ve been sent to find me,” I said. “You said something about needing my help, but with what, exactly?”
“British intelligence has located a small cell of what we’ve identified to be sleeper agents for Continua
nce Corporation,” he replied.
“How do you know they’re from Continuance?” Sanders asked.
“Two of the individuals photographed were cross-referenced in our databases with intelligence placing them at previous Continuance-related incidents.”
“Why come to us?” Sanders asked, looking back at him over the front seat. “You should probably be taking this up with the NSA, or even the CIA, first.”
Fisk gave her a long look. “Yes, we tried, but your CIA insisted that they didn’t have enough evidence to substantiate conveying you to British territory given the high-risk status of conditions in your own country.”
My gaze met Sanders’ and I noted her look of surprise before I stared across at Fisk.
I opened my mind and focused on him.
…wrong with the United States today? Bloody bastards don’t even care about their allies anymore.
I frowned. As a matter of fact, Fisk’s concerns didn’t betray any thoughts that I hadn’t shared myself recently.
“How did you know we were here?” I asked.
The muscles in Fisk’s face tightened. “Look, don’t take this the wrong way, but you’ve been on our radar since the events in Nevis Corners. As soon as we learned that you were a person of interest, we started tracking everyone around you, in fact.”
“Even Maria Edwards?” I asked.
He appeared surprised. “Well, yes, she was one of the central figures, I believe. However, I was assigned to watch you. Ms. Edwards was assigned to another agent.”
“Are they still tracking her?”
“Bringer—” Sanders interjected.
“Well, yes, I suppose so,” Fisk replied. “Though I don’t understand what this has to do with—”
“Never mind,” I interrupted. “Let’s get back to those Continuance people you mentioned.”
I wondered if British agents had observed Maria’s abduction from her home and done nothing.
Still, what would that have changed? It wasn’t as if the UK had any allegiance to go around saving people, save those deigned as valuable to their own interests.
It really wasn’t any different with my own nation, I supposed.
The important thing was that Maria was safe once again.
“…they appear to be preparing for something,” Fisk was saying. “As such, we couldn’t wait for diplomatic channels. We need help, Mr. Bringer, and we need it now. Forget that we’re British…we’re allies, and innocent people’s lives are at stake.”
