by BSmith
“Jesus Christ, spit it out!” Simone snapped.
“An unidentified flying aircraft.”
Vasco arched a brow. “A what?”
“Come see for yourself, sir,” the solider said, and then braced himself, because two more explosions stained the sky, littering it with balls of fire, clouds of black smoke, and broken pieces of metal, raining down into the ocean below.
“Unidentified flying aircraft,” Lucien repeated as he, his siblings, and Caleb followed the solider out of the conference room, and up a short flight of stairs to the control room. “Does he mean a UFO?”
“I’m not sure what else it could be.” Simone followed the soldier as he knocked on the cockpit door, then pushed it open. From behind them, another soldier, sitting at a terminal, announced with no small amount of relief in his voice, “Sir, remaining bogeys are booking out.”
Lucien stood behind the co-pilot’s chair, peering out the windshield. “What am I looking at?”
Archer waited a moment, searching the sky himself, and then he pointed. “Right there.” At first, the triplets saw nothing. A second later, a long, oval-shaped aircraft simply appeared where it had not been before. They could barely see it. It looked almost translucent against the black sky, and when it passed through a cloud, it became invisible again.
“Wow,” Simone whispered.
“There’s that help when we needed it,” Vasco said. “Have they made radio contact?”
“No, sir. Just showed up and started blowing the bad guys out of the air. It appears to be following us.” Archer grinned. “I’d love to get in the cockpit of that thing.”
“All right. Stay on course.” Vasco stepped out of the cockpit, his siblings following him. Lucien walked up to the solider that had originally alerted them of the UFO’s presence.
“By the way, it’s called an interdimensional traveling vessel, okay?” Lucien clasped the young man’s shoulder.
Simone smirked, and Lucien shrugged, faint amusement flickering through his eyes. “Just trying to educate him.”
§
December 2, 2012 - 2:15 AM
Alcyone Island
Phoenix Isle Command Center
“They got away. The fighters that the Brotherhood had on standby, in case we failed, were attacked by an alien vessel and destroyed.”
Instead of throwing his phone across the room Caesar kicked the table in front of him. “Goddammit, Kayla, we sent you an army. How did they manage to get off the island?”
“Nicholas was a traitor. He warned them ahead of time. We also underestimated the efficiency of the Alcyone Island military.”
“Fuck,” Caesar growled and shoved a frustrated hand back through his hair. “Who’s alive that might know where they are?”
“Only Leone.”
“Fine. Work Leone until he squeals.”
“Yes, Caesar. Did your team capture the scientists?”
Caesar stared around at the empty lab. “No. Call me when you know something.”
Kayla disconnected the call, tucking the phone into her pocket. She understood Caesar’s irritation. The Brotherhood wouldn’t be pleased with the multiple failures. Kayla stepped out of the conference room in the Phoenix Isle Command Center. Once populated by the Alcyone Island military, the center was a mess of destroyed computers and dead bodies.
Olivia walked up to Kayla, curling her fingers around the mouthpiece of her head set. “FBI started their raid of SVT offices and every single one, so far, has been empty. No files, no computers, just empty desks.”
Kayla arched a brow. “Every single one?”
“Yes!” The lines of Olivia’s face were strained. “We have no fucking idea where they’ve gone.”
“Clever. Very, very clever. They knew about us for a long time.” Kayla turned her back on Olivia, walking to the sliding doors. “Have Leone worked until he talks.”
“Where are you going?” Olivia asked.
“To get my father’s journal.”
§
December 2, 2012 - 2:22 AM
Alcyone Island
Cellar underneath Governor’s Mansion
“What does Leone know?” John asked. The cellar underneath the governor’s mansion, didn’t just house the heads of the family’s enemies. Isabella had added a section and turned it into her own small personal security center. From there, they could hear and see what was going on in the Command Center on Phoenix Isle. While Kayla’s robotic army was marching to the airport and the hotel was being overrun, Leone had helped her escape.
“You do no good to this family dying a noble death, Isabel. Go. Your reincarnated mother shouldn’t lose all her children in one day.”
“A great deal. Information is backed up on the servers at Phoenix, and then flown twice a month to the compound where the triplets are going. Leone makes those trips.” Isabella sat in a chair against the wall. She was exhausted. She was heartbroken. She was pissed off and ornery. “Kayla’s going after Marcello’s journal. We need to get it before she does.”
“Do you know where it is?”
“Vasco had it, so it’s probably at his home.” Calling upon a new reserve of strength, Isabella rose to her feet. “And then we’re going to get off this island.”
“What’s your plan, Isabel?” John canted his head at her.
“The airport’s overrun. But I know of a hangar they didn’t check—if we can get there.”
“Where?” John picked his gun off the table and grabbed an extra from the cabinet on the wall, tucking both into his belt.
“My father’s.” Isabella pulled her hair into a messy bun on the top of her head, then took one of the semi-automatic pistols from the same cabinet.
“You know how to fly?”
Isabella gave John a look. “My father was one of the best goddamn fighter pilots ever. You bet your ass I know how to fly.”
John smiled. “Lead the way, Governor.”
Chapter 17
“We don't see things as they are, we see them as we are.”
- Anais Nin
December 5, 2012 - 10:44 AM
Somewhere in Egypt
Terenzio Compound
*Zones clean?” Caleb stood in the security center in the east wing of the compound, looking at the row of monitors.
There were three Dion Corp security guards seated at the table. The one on the far right nodded. “Yes, sir. Nobody here but us.”
“Air waves are quiet, too,” said the one in the middle.
Caleb nodded. “Good. I’m going to make my rounds. I’ll be back later.”
The triplets’ plane had landed in Casablanca, Morocco, three days ago. The interdimensional traveling vessel that had assisted earlier followed them to their destination, and then simply disappeared. From Casablanca, the three heirs to SVT’s empire made the long, secretive journey back to the compound. The entirety of the trip, Simone had been distant. They had reached quite the climax, and Caleb had been busy coordinating the moves of the military and the Dion Corp security that had come with them. He had noticed her reserve, but hadn't said a lick about it. Now that he had the time, he intended to go and find her.
It was strange for Simone to be back in the compound. She supposed it was a bit ironic, too. It was because of this place that she knew who she had been, once upon a time. It was because of this place that she knew who Caleb had been, as well. It stood as a reminder of everything she once had—and would not have again. Restless, she walked the corridors of the east wing, frowning with thought.
Caleb rounded a corner and came nearly face to face with her. He couldn't imagine what must be going through her head at his juncture. He wanted to know, though. "How are you holding up?"
Simone glanced up, startled. Her first instinct was to step into him. She resisted that urge and frowned more deeply. "How do you think?"
Caleb would have liked it if Simone had leaned into him and let go of her troubles against his shoulder, if only for a short while, but he wasn't surpr
ised when she didn't. That didn't stop him from stepping into her, though, and rubbing his hands over her arms, keeping his eyes on her. "Talk to me."
Simone stiffened, but torn between wanting to push him away and wanting to take comfort in him, she held still. "What do you want me to say, Caleb?"
"Anything but the silent treatment you've been giving me,” Caleb said quietly, studying her face. "Tell me you’re mad as hell, tell me you scared, tell me you can't wait to go blow up their underground bases. Tell me you’re heartbroken that Christopher's dead and Isabella probably is, too."
Simone had yet to perfect the mask of neutrality that the Terenzios so often wore. Shadows darkened her eyes, and the lines of her face were taut. "Why? So we can pretend that we're Liliana and Kyle again?"
Caleb frowned, but he didn't let her go. Instead, he touched her cheek. "No. Because they were your family, Simone, and now they're gone. Or, we skip right over them and go to the part about why you're avoiding me."
Simone jerked back and pushed Caleb away from her. "Don't," she said, pressing a hand to her cheek. "Don't do that. You can't do that."
Caleb’s brows rose as his hands dropped to his sides. "Why can't I?"
"Because everyone is dying!" Simone curled both of her hands into fists. Her nails cut into her palms. "Don't you get it?! This isn't 1927, Caleb! This isn’t the world we used to know. This isn't the life we used to live. There won't be entire afternoons wasted in hammocks or stolen moments in our offices. We won't be picking the kids' vegetables out of the potted plants in the dining room or washing mud pies out of their mouths. There will be no happy ending!"
Understanding dawned, echoing in the silence around them. Caleb loved those memories. They had helped him through some of the more trying moments in his current life. He didn’t miss Simone’s point, though. "I know what year it is. I know what's going on here, and I know how it may end. I'm not asking you to recreate the past, and the only thing I'm planning on in the immediate future is keeping you safe." He closed the distance between them and did what Simone told him he couldn't do again: took her face between his hands and looked into her eyes. "The only thing that is certain is this moment, right now. So, you tell me what you want for it."
"This moment?” Simone closed her hands over Caleb’s, pressing desperately. "Members of my family were murdered while you and I were having a moment like this. Nothing is certain! Any one of us could go, at any time, and I won't lose you!" Her eyes were glassy with unshed tears, and her nails dug into the backs of his hands. "I can't lose you," she whispered fiercely.
Caleb felt the desperation and all of the pent up emotion, in the dig of Simone’s nails. "Now you're talking to me," he whispered and pressed his lips against her forehead. He drew his hands down, so he could wrap his arms around her and pulled her tight, resisting form against his chest. "They would have died even if we weren't having that moment, babe. You can't think about the what ifs. You'll drive yourself crazy. Your job wasn't to save them. You're here to finish this, and I'm here to keep you alive so you can. And love you, a lot, through it all. That's it, Simone. That's it."
"They're not what ifs. They're certainties,” Simone whispered. "This won't end well. And I can’t do whatever is necessary if I’m standing this close to you.”
Caleb had a feeling that he wasn’t going to like what came next. “What are you saying, Simone?”
Simone closed her eyes for just a moment, calling up that famed Terenzio resolve; the kind needed to make impossible choices. She pulled Caleb’s arms from around her as she looked up at him. “I’m saying you’re right. I need to finish this. And I can’t do that if we’re trying to rekindle a relationship that has its place in the past.”
Caleb stiffened. “You think that’s all this is?”
Simone released his hands, thickening the veil around her eyes when she saw the emotion in his. “I’m not her, Caleb, and you’re not him. Just because we had something once upon a time doesn’t mean we get to have it twice.”
Caleb’s jaw tensed. “You’re not going to blow off my feelings for you as nothing but a pretty memory of what was, because you’re afraid of loss. I love you. You, Simone.”
Simone struggled with a sudden knot in her throat. She loved Caleb, too. Just him. She would have without the memories of Kyle to lie on top of it all and sweeten the deal, deepening her natural affection for him, but she couldn’t be wasting hours in bed with him, or sharing a private moment when, in sixteen days, the fate of the world would rest in her hands and her brothers’. If she wasted time thinking of a future with Caleb, instead of the battle—if she got her hopes up and she lost him in that battle—what was she to do, then? What was the point of dreaming if the end game was nothing but a field of land mines that she or someone else in her family might willingly step on, just to call checkmate?
She drew her arms around herself and looked away, slowly shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter.”
Caleb looked as if Simone had struck him. She might as well have. He stared at her in the thick silence. At length, he shook his head. “Fine. I’ll play it your way. Nothing but professionalism. Excuse me, Madame President I need to go make my rounds.”
Simone nodded mutely, watching Caleb walk away from her. It was for the best, she assured herself. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.
From the next room, Vasco came to stand in the doorway, settling his gaze on his motionless sister. He had been eavesdropping, though not intentionally. “Everything doesn’t have to be either or.”
Simone whirled around, narrowing her eyes “Keep your opinions on my personal life to yourself.”
“Redirecting your anger at me isn’t going to make the decision you just made any less stupid,” Vasco said quietly.
Anger Simone could do. Anger felt a lot better than the ache in her chest, and what better target than her big brother? “It was necessary. And you know what, Vasco, while you were making secret decisions regarding my life, you should have done the smart thing and kept the gag order in place.”
“Do you remember grandfather’s recording?” Vasco continued, as if Simone had not just taken that shot at him. “Specifically, the part about love?”
“Don’t you do it. Don’t you fucking dare lecture me about love!” Simone came at him, eyes blazing. “You lived your last lifetime wrapped up in a cocoon of self-loving arrogance, and you’ve spent this one pretending your way through your existence. I don’t even think you care about winning. All you’re doing is going through the motions. So unless you feel something, don’t begin to think you can understand me.”
Vasco was the expert at veiling emotion—or had been, as Stefano Terenzio. Perhaps he was too good at it, but Simone’s words were not completely inaccurate. “The mp3 player is in the library. You ought to listen to it again. We have a conference call with Xavier in an hour.”
“You listen to it. I have work to do.” Simone strode past him.
Vasco watched her go and sighed. Turning around, he went back into the den, sinking down in the plush confines of the leather chair, and closed his eyes.
§
December 5, 2012 - 11:30 AM
Alcyone Island
Phoenix Isle Detention Center
Leone was in rough shape. For the last three days, he had been beaten, tortured and drugged. By some miracle, he had found the will, the strength, to not tell his captors anything. After an hours reprieve they had literally dragged him out of his cell and strapped him to a chair. Blood and dirt marked his face. His right eye was swollen shut. He was so exhausted, after being alone for about five minutes, he passed out.
When Victoria was escorted into the detention room and saw the condition of her husband, she gasped, a hand flying to her mouth. “What did you do?” she whispered.
Olivia shoved Victoria forward. “What the fuck does it look like we did? Get him to talk.”
Victoria shot a brief glare at Olivia, but her gaze gentled in sympathy when she looked back at L
eone. She might have had an affair, but she still cared about him. This was cruel. She never imagined sleeping with Amadeo would lead to something like this. She had foolishly believed that Amadeo was just ambitious. Swallowing, Victoria slowly reached out and touched her husband’s hand. “Leone,” she said gently.
Leone thought he was hallucinating, at first, and didn’t open his eyes. When Victoria called his name a second time, he slowly turned his head and looked. Shock stained his face. “What are you doing here?”
Victoria’s eyes watered as she trailed her gaze over his badly beaten face. Leone had been such a handsome man. “Tell them. Please, just tell them where the triplets are.”
