I'd heard from Ilya that the President called off their mission the night before-Granville went straight to the bunker and stayed there until dawn. They were scheduled to go again at midnight, tonight, unless another chemical weapons attack was launched.
For now, every nation on Earth was desperately searching for an answer to sarin gas. People were locking themselves inside their houses and taping plastic on windows and doors.
Val and I-we were nearly at a dead-end in our search for Norian Keef and Lendill Schaff. We were now backtracking, looking for clues in out of the way places, just to see if they could have been spotted by one of our enemies there.
I suspected the Lyristolyi, but since Phillips' cronies had Sirenali, I couldn't point a finger with certainty, yet.
"I worry that we may have to bend time to a specific place, just to follow them discreetly," Val said. I looked at Katya and Sergei, who sat at a corner table at a coffee shop while Val and I ordered at the counter for them. They were worn out from going back and forth, searching for clues.
They knew about the attacks on Europe. Disheartening would be putting their reaction into mild terms. Both were terrified.
"I think we should take them back to Bekzi," I said as Val lifted two coffee cups to my one.
"I agree, but their wishes must be considered."
"Yeah. I know."
"Corinne, is there some way you can take Papa away from that madman?" Katya lifted her eyes to mine as Val set a cup of coffee in front of her.
"Honey, I'm not sure about that-not yet, anyway, and yes, I really would like to get him out of there, just to keep him safe. He has a choice in this, too, you know."
"Katya, he will be fine. He always is," Sergei wrapped his arms around her shoulders. I wanted to weep with her when she leaned her head on Sergei's chest and sobbed.
The frustration I felt at that moment was a crushing weight. The longer our search for Norian Keef lasted, the more worried I became that he was not only being held hostage by one faction or another, but that he could either be dead already or marked for death-at a more convenient time.
His death wouldn't-shouldn't-happen for centuries. Too many things could change in successive timelines, and that could prove disastrous.
Lendill Schaff, too-if he shared the same fate.
Val and I had been concentrating our resources on hunting Norian, to the exclusion of everything else. Yes, the intent to release drones in major cities to kill the innocent had been hidden by Sirenali involvement, but I chastised myself for shutting everything else out. In other words, I felt guilty as hell about it.
Yes, I knew the insurgency had Sirenali at their disposal, so the planning of this mass killing would have gone unnoted.
I suspected, however, that the insurgency hadn't considered this method of destroying lives. They were more in the Let's blow everything up at the same time camp.
While they were happy to take the responsibility assigned to them for this carefully planned genocide, I doubted they'd had a hand in it.
Meanwhile, governments across the globe were once again planning meetings-teleconferences actually, since they were still wary after the last mass world leader destruction in D.C.-to discuss what to do about the insurgents who'd killed so many people already and likely had more targets in their sights.
In my mind, World War Three had a strong foothold already, and that was likely due to outside influence.
Fuck Earth. The Lyristolyi had written that on the ceiling of the abandoned Nevada facility, after they'd scraped every grain of the drug out of it. "The Lyristolyi did this," I said, setting the cup of cold coffee I still held on the table. Katya, whose eyes were dry, now, watched as my hand shook when I released my grip on the paper cup.
"Dearest, you have been unresponsive for several moments," Val said softly beside me.
"The Lyristolyi have Norian and Lendill-if they haven't killed them already. I want to see the drones used in the attacks," I added.
"Dearest, they cannot die; their deaths will destroy the timeline," Val said. His voice now sounded far away, drowned out by the sudden noise in my ears. Visions were coming-of everything that could be affected. A new term-God Wars-echoed in my mind. This was the past. Something important could unravel in the future. A victory could become a disastrous defeat.
All could be lost. The panic overwhelmed me, until Val took matters in hand and placed me in a healing sleep.
* * *
Ilya
I'd spent the night in a guarded bedroom, with no communication devices available-those had been taken early on. I'd attempted to send mindspeech to Corinne, with no reply.
That frightened me. Valegar? I sent.
I am here, he replied immediately.
Corinne?
She had a severe panic attack, he said. I was forced to place her in a healing sleep. Things, as you likely know, are not going well at the moment. I realize you may not understand what I am about to tell you, but the timeline into the future is crumbling.
Where are you? Are Katya and Sergei safe?
I have brought Corinne, your daughter and her husband back to the villa, he said. Corinne is still sleeping. Katya and Sergei are huddled with their friends and discussing the sarin gas attacks with Bekzi and Dr. Shaw. Gerrett, James and Nathan are preparing lunch for the others.
I've heard very little about the attacks, I admitted. They are keeping us away from outside communication.
They are fools, Val said. Lying fools, intent on performing at the direction of one whose reason cannot be relied upon.
I agree completely, my friend, I said. They have lied to us from the beginning, and I worry that tonight the attack may commence.
Tread carefully, then, Val said. Do not risk your life. I understand you feel responsible for getting Jennifer and Brett away if things go badly, and that is why you remain where you are. You must protect yourself, too. You are important, in ways you cannot begin to fathom.
I took a moment to process his words. I had no ready reply for them, after all. Take care of Corinne, I said. If I'd spoken aloud, my voice would have been thick with emotion.
I intend to do so, he acknowledged. When she wakes, we will continue our search for Keef. If his timeline ends here and now, things will not go well in the future.
Does this mean the odds are against us? I asked.
The odds are certainly against us. I worry that desperate measures will be considered, merely to salvage what we can.
Will you ask Corinne to contact me when she wakes?
I will.
Thank you.
* * *
Personal Notes-Dr. Richard Farrell
If Corinne had left any useful drug behind, I'd have retrieved it. The original attack had been postponed, at least-after Sarin was dumped on major European cities, resulting in countless deaths.
Yet Granville wanted to send Jen into that hellhole with a Phillips clone. Yes, I often called her Maye in my mind, and a part of me understood how wrong that was. It no longer mattered what her name was-she was everything to me and merely a pawn marked for death by the idiot occupying the White House.
Granville had separated us, too-I no longer had access. Jealousy ate at me-was she sleeping with that bastard, Brett? Her phone and other methods of communication were turned off-likely at Granville's direction.
Yes, he was at the bottom of all my concerns. I no longer cared that he was President. If anything happened to her, I couldn't predict my actions afterward.
Chapter 14
Notes-Colonel Hunter
"You're saying there was some sort of antidetection device on those drones? That nothing we have could detect them? Where did that technology come from? Somebody's ass?" the President shouted.
Matt and I sat in a meeting with the President and the Joint Chiefs, where blame-laying and finger-pointing prevailed and sensible discussion hadn't been invited.
I understood quickly that the President didn't want to hear what Matt and
I had to say-he wanted to mire himself in mundane, Earthly excuses for the attacks instead of considering where they'd likely originated.
The presence of technology that had nothing to do with what could currently be produced on our planet failed to interest him.
"Right now, it doesn't matter where it came from," Navy pointed out. "What we have to do is a study to determine how to prevent an attack here."
"How long do you think that study will take?" Air Force broke in. "Months? We don't have months. Hell, we may not have hours, the way things look to me."
"I say we go in and bomb the hell out of Iraq and Syria to put an end to this once and for all," Army snapped.
"Because that's your answer for everything," Marines countered. "You just want to make a mess that my boys will have to clean up."
"I've already got my people watching the coastline for suspicious or unusual activity," Coast Guard said. "It's the best I could do with the limited time I've had."
"That's the best thing I've heard so far in this meeting," Matt said. "What are the rest of you doing-or plan to do? I'm coordinating with Homeland, the FBI and state officials across the country. They're looking for any unusual activity, now. They could probably use some help, too."
"Mr. President, the country is waiting for you to make a statement," I said during the ensuing lull.
"Yeah-I'll get to that," he waved off my suggestion.
I watched Matt rub his forehead-the country was terrified and the President was having a psychotic episode. A perfect pairing for chaos. "I've had requests for interviews," I added. "I can't do that without official word from the White House as to the plans put in place to combat this potential menace."
"Just tell them we're employing every resource to keep the country safe," the President mumbled.
"Mr. President, those journalists will want specifics," Matt tapped a finger on the table. "They want us to spell out exactly what we intend to do to keep the people safe. You have resources in this room that can help with that. They're just waiting for you to tell them what you want to do."
"Put together a plan of action. All of you. Meet me here tomorrow at the same time. We'll hammer out something then." I watched as the President rose from his chair, forcing the rest of us to our feet. He walked out, leaving us to glance warily at our neighbors.
The leader of our country was disintegrating before our eyes.
"Well," Coast Guard sighed, "this is my question. What would Amelia Sanders do?"
"She'd call Corinne," Matt said cryptically.
I jerked my head in a nod.
* * *
Corinne
The world hadn't improved any while I slept. When Val woke me, I had a request to contact Ilya, a request to contact Auggie and Matt, Keef was still missing and everybody on the planet was waiting for a press conference from the White House, which still hadn't happened. Meanwhile, hundreds of thousands were still just as dead across Europe.
"Cori, what are we gonna do?" James whispered as I shuffled into the villa's kitchen. Gerrett, who stood nearby, nodded a greeting to me.
"Honeys," I went to pull both into a hug. "We'll try to sort this out, okay?" I leaned away and peered into both faces. "Because we have to."
"I hear this," Bekzi agreed as he walked past, carrying two bags of groceries. "You sit, we cook."
It was then I realized that lunchtime the following day had arrived, while I'd slept nearly round the clock.
Ilya? I sent.
I am here. We are on for tonight-the President retired early last evening, he said.
Thank goodness, I replied. I just woke up and nothing is better, I added.
I know. If they didn't have me under surveillance every moment, I'd get away for a short visit.
Yeah. I raked hair away from my face, only then considering my appearance. Do you know how Brett and Jen are?
They're keeping us apart, he said, so I cannot say for sure. They're probably worried we'll conspire to escape. I confess; that has crossed my mind many times.
I understand. Do they not even allow you to eat together? A mental hmmph met my question. I guess that's a no, then, I said.
Correct. It concerns me that the President has become so paranoid, he added.
I think Leo can add a full list of psychological disorders behind that one, I said, my sending dry. Hold on, I'll Look to check on Brett and Jen-okay, got it, I said as the information came. Brett is feeling like a caged wolf-no surprise. Jen is concerned over the lack of communication, and she's working on crossword puzzles-somebody gave her a book of those and a pen.
At least one of us can be distracted, then. Tell me what else is happening.
I told him what I knew, which really wasn't much. He considered each piece as it dropped into the puzzle we'd been given. There were still far too many blank spaces to hazard a guess at the full picture.
The President is destroying his chances for the next election, Ilya pointed out when I explained about the lack of information and cooperation from the White House.
If he were completely sane, he might be worried about that now, I responded. As it is, I think we whizzed by that stop long ago. He was worried once, but I think he's sunk too far into revenge and self-preservation at this point. You know, I miss the good old days when all I had to worry about was Becker shoving me into the mud.
I should have killed him for that, Ilya said. I wanted to.
Well, he and all his clone buddies are dead. Not our problem now, I said.
True. We merely have a much larger, more troubling set of problems.
Yeah. Look, I need to call Auggie. Let me know how things progress.
I will. I miss you, Cabbage.
I miss you, too.
* * *
Notes-Colonel Hunter
"He said I wasn't welcome on American soil," Corinne said. "This tile was made in China." I watched as she pointed to the floor of my office. Instead of calling me, she'd come herself-and Valegar with her.
I didn't blame her for leaving James in Italy, where he was guarded by a watchful Bekzi. She was right all along-Bekzi deserved all the medals I could throw at him for staying the course and keeping people safe.
"I'm not surprised the tile is Chinese," I sighed. "The President is delusional," I added.
"I know."
"I don't know what to do about it," I said. "We're supposed to hand him an action plan in a meeting this afternoon. Matt and I worked ours out together, but the others," I shrugged. "So far, only the Coast Guard has really done anything useful."
"Look, if they have a way to transport that stuff around that doesn't involve the usual methods," she said, "then even going house to house, looking for terror cells won't help. They can pick a spot, land there, release their drones and zip out again. Easy."
"Cori, please don't muck up my plan with your confounded relevance and common sense," I muttered. "The President doesn't want to hear about extraterrestrial involvement. He wants this to have originated here-on this planet."
"Because he has no way to combat the unknown," Valegar offered. "He has also alienated anyone who could help with it."
"You and Corinne." My words were flat. They sounded dead, even to my own ears.
"Auggie-we're at a tipping point," Corinne warned. "If a few more things go wrong, then everything could be destroyed."
Somehow, I got the idea that she wasn't just talking about Earth anymore. She was talking about everything everything.
Yes, I'd fallen into the two-word, repetitive explanation category. It did nothing to improve my mood-or increase the effectiveness of the proposal Matt and I had put together for the President.
"Auggie, it doesn't matter," Corinne said. "Just-do the best you can, okay? We have things to do, so let's hope that the nut-jobs behind this aren't ready to attack the U.S. yet. I'm worried they may have something worse up their sleeve."
"Cori, you can't get much worse than this," I smacked a hand on my desk.
"Colonel H
unter, I assume you understand how foolish that statement could become," Valegar warned. "We will keep in touch."
I stared-for a long time-at the empty space where he and Corinne had stood, giving me a warning that the apocalypse was about to happen.
Some people would be disappointed that zombies didn't appear to be involved.
Frankly, I was grateful we didn't have rotting corpses to combat while we dealt with everything else.
* * *
Corinne
"Val, what is the weight of everything in the universe?" I asked.
"All of them?" he countered.
"Never mind," I waved a hand. "I merely wanted to know how much we were carrying around, that's all."
"Dearest, let us concentrate on the immediate problem. We can discuss weights and measures at a later time."
"What was it Auggie said about relevance and common sense?"
"It applies," he nodded. "Shall we begin our search again for Director Keef?"
"I should have sent his snaky ass back to Wyyld when I had the chance," I muttered. "We wouldn't be hunting him now if I had."
"We cannot always foresee when things will take an errant turn," he advised. "We are hunting him now-to save him. This is more than any other Larentii has been allowed to do since the beginning."
* * *
Personal Record
Lendill Schaff
Norian attempted to fight our kidnappers every time he was allowed to wake. As a result, he was covered in cuts and bruises, and likely still had internal damage from the pistol blast that sleeping hadn't cured.
I watched as his head lolled toward me now; we sat against a rough wall in a hunting cabin-that's how the Lyristolyi referred to it, anyway. "They won't kill us here," I hissed as he blinked at me.
I was surprised he could still open his eyes; the bruising around them was so severe. "They don't want anyone hunting them after this, you can count on it," I added. "We'll die elsewhere, or at least that's their plan. Stop fighting, get your strength back and we'll get out of this mess eventually."
I was hoping to already be out of it, if truth be told. I had no idea why Father would leave me in such a way-unless something prevented him from knowing I'd been captured. I attempted to sort out that conundrum. After all, my father was the one person who could find just about anything, if he put his mind and talent to it.
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