Cloud Rebel: R-D 3

by Connie Suttle

  "Then why didn't they kill me when they had me before?" he asked.

  "Because they wanted to make a point, and were probably counting on the Secret Service shooting you the minute they dropped you in the Oval Office," I said. "They want the President to know that they can now show up wherever, whenever. They want us all to know that nobody's safe. If that agent hadn't been a werewolf too, you'd be dead, now."

  "At least the President has one good bodyguard, then," Brett huffed. "Where are we going?"

  The winter sun was bright in the afternoon sky when we left the building, heading for the SUV I'd borrowed from the motor pool. I'd gone over it myself before settling in the driver's seat, and checked it again before allowing Brett to climb in on the passenger side.

  Matt's call had spooked me-that's for certain. I had no idea whether there was a safe place for any of us, now. I sure as hell didn't want to go back to my office; it was the first place they'd look for me.

  "We're going to a safe house," I said. "One the enemy doesn't know about."

  I hope.

  * * *

  Morrett watched as Wymarr blasted the last of the personnel at the missile silo. According to Fisk, this was their last act-there was no need for anything else. They could leave the planet, knowing their goal had been accomplished.

  When Wymarr sent these missiles toward their targets, there wouldn't be enough firepower to destroy all of them.

  The countries in question would certainly retaliate.

  More missiles would be launched-from everywhere.

  Morrett had the vision of them crossing paths as they flew toward their intended targets. Nobody would be spared. Those who weren't killed by the bombs in the initial attacks would be subjected to a slow and hideous death as the poison destroyed them in swaths.

  Fisk would make sure that he and his crew were far away when that happened. Fisk was upset that he couldn't retrieve Keef's body-it had been cremated in the blast set off by the intruders.

  Morrett wondered if Deonus Wyyld knew his ASD Director was dead, yet. At first, he'd hoped ASD ships would come and deal with Fisk. He'd lost that hope soon after it formed.

  Earth was too far from the Reth Alliance, and the doings on that remote planet held little interest for most of the Alliance's inhabitants. It was a lost cause, now. Morrett wanted to weep for lives lost, past and future, at the hands of Fisk and his crew.

  Fuck Earth.

  He recalled clearly what Fisk's underlings had written on the ceiling of the facility-the one where drug experimentation had been carried out.

  Similar messages had been scrawled across walls on other worlds-just before Fisk and his crew destroyed them.

  Morrett's obsession said he couldn't harm his masters. It didn't say he couldn't hate them. He hated Fisk with a passion equal and opposite to his love for books. He hated Fisk just as much as he hated his mother. Sliding down a wall in the underground bunker, he turned to reading as a distraction while Fisk's technicians disabled the archaic firing and guidance protocols, attached their own guidance systems to the missiles and then programmed them.

  * * *

  Larentii Archives

  Private files of Nefrigar

  Chief Archivist

  "We knew this would happen," Kalenegar stood beside me as we gazed upon the construct Corinne had left in her place. The chip was even located properly in the wrist, just as Kalenegar had placed it.

  "She will Change What Was as necessary, before returning to us," Kalenegar continued. "It will only require bringing Keef and Schaff back, and perhaps a few others," he shrugged.

  "We have already decided that her other mate is irretrievable," Kalenegar added. "His death may be painful for her. If she is unable to bring it about, Matt Michaels is prepared to do this, after Ilya brings the deaths of a few others, you understand. When that occurs, then he will be hunted across the globe and Matt's agency will take credit for destroying the monster he has become."

  "Do you think she knows that more deaths are coming at Ilya's hands? This could send her in a dangerous direction," I observed.

  "It won't matter," Kalenegar gestured, dismissing the information. "She is Larentii. She will know when it is wrong to interfere."

  I studied the Head of the Council for a moment before turning to my son. There was a hesitation in him as his eyes met mine. As if he considered speaking and then thought better of it.

  As did I.

  Corinne was the Vhanaraszh; her part no Larentii could predict. I refrained from pointing that out to Kalenegar. Things would go as they would, with no interference from me. I merely worried that my child-and his mate-could be harmed emotionally before this was over.

  * * *

  Captain Brett Walker

  "I'm not the best cook," Colonel Hunter confessed. "I can do grilled cheese. Bacon and eggs. Nothing fancier than that, I'm afraid. Laci is an amazing cook, as is Corinne. Damn, I wish Cori were here."

  I understood he didn't want her here to cook. He wanted her here because she spelled safety for both of us. After my brief stint in captivity, I'd never felt so unsettled and unsafe.

  Control is something you never understand until you don't have it. That's when you realize that it was never really yours to begin with. It's an illusion, at the best of times. Colonel Hunter and I stood at the stove in the safe house's kitchen, studying the contraption in order to determine how to get it to work. At the moment, we didn't even have control over household appliances.

  That's when the doorbell rang. We froze. I pulled the pistol I carried from my waistband and followed Colonel Hunter to the door. He peered through the peephole to see who it was.

  "A kid selling cookies," he turned to me with a grin. I replaced the weapon in my back waistband while Hunter opened the door.

  "Surprised?" The girl morphed into Rafe Black, whose grin was nasty as he fired three times at Colonel Hunter, the last shot hitting him in the forehead from close range. Rafe disappeared before I could fire my weapon.

  * * *

  Personal Diary-Laura Quimby

  It was supposed to be an ordinary afternoon, which would be followed by an ordinary evening at the White House. President Granville was scheduled for meetings all afternoon, and I'd arranged his schedule to fit in a short break between his four and five o'clock.

  Secret Service Agents began running into the Oval Office as the President sipped the soft drink I'd carried to him.

  "Colonel Hunter is dead-shot by Rafe Black, sir," one of the agents reported. "We have to get you to the bunker. You're in danger."

  I watched as the President stood-almost in slow motion. Two agents grabbed him and attempted to lead him toward the exit. The dark-haired man appeared with an assault rifle in his hands.

  No matter how many times the agents surrounding the President fired at the intruder, their bullets bounced off some sort of invisible shield around him. One of those bullets ricocheted and hit me in the shoulder while I shouted into a phone that the Oval Office was under attack.

  I barely remember falling afterward; I watched the President die as I bled onto the rug-the one that depicted the President's seal. My head lay on the eagle's breast, but it offered no protection or comfort.

  The President fell beside me, his eyes already losing their light as I gazed into them.

  * * *

  Opal

  By the eleven o'clock news, Rafe's photograph was splashed on every television screen across the globe. Images were shown from cameras placed in sensitive areas across the globe-including the U.S.

  Colonel Hunter's safe house was equipped with a camera, and the footage showed a grinning Rafe pumping bullets into the Colonel before he disappeared from view.

  Eyewitness accounts from the Oval Office said the same thing about President Granville's death-the assassin was identified as Rafe Black by a White House aide.

  In all, Rafe had been directed to assassinate Granville, Hunter, the President of France, the Prime Minister of Great Britain
and the leaders of sixteen other world countries, including Greece, Russia, Japan and Australia.

  Matt, I sent. I think it's time you got the hell away. I figure I know what's coming next.

  What about you? he returned.

  I think Bree will want a first-hand account, I replied. I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself. Say hello to your mom for me, okay?

  Will do. Call if you need me.

  I will.

  * * *

  Corinne

  I knew what Ilya had done. I also knew that Katya and Sergei wept because of it. The images were everywhere, after all, of Ilya murdering world leaders.

  My vision blurred after a moment; I realized I was weeping, too.

  I was still sobbing when the missiles launched from a U.S. silo that ended up obliterating Russia and the Middle East.

  * * *

  Gerrett

  Bekzi made sure I understood the languages on the news programs, so he wouldn't have to interpret them for me. All of it was terrible, and Katya suffered most from seeing her father listed as a murderous assassin on every major continent.

  I understood what had happened-perhaps better than anyone else at the villa. I carried an obsession, after all. Rafe-he carried many. They'd taken away every scrap of will he had and replaced it with their own-this nameless, faceless Sirenali.

  I clenched my fists in fury as the images played across the screen. This one, whomever he was-he was like my mother. Conniving. Hungry for power and wealth. Using others as tools to get those things while accepting no blame themselves.

  "The words-they die with Elemaiya," Bekzi murmured.

  I turned to him quickly and blinked.

  How? I sent.

  "I know they use words-transfer you to new master," Bekzi said. "Those words-they dead now. With Elemaiya. You free. Corinne-she make sure," he said. "When time to go, I take you, too."

  I didn't say it, but in my heart, I wanted to go with Corinne. No matter where she intended to go. She pulled at me in a way I couldn't deny.

  Bekzi snorted. I feel same, he sent.

  * * *

  Corinne

  There is a star system less than sixty light-years from Earth, with an inhabited planet. Yes, they'd discovered coffee there, too, only they served it much darker and stronger than most of Earth's continents did.

  I'd employed power to dilute it first, then added hot milk and vanilla syrup before attempting to drink. I sipped coffee while extending my vision to witness the destruction of Earth.

  Yes, I still felt like crying. The remnants of humanity attempted to dig out of the rubble left behind, while many of them sickened and died of radiation poisoning. The climate had been altered, too, so that poisoned rain fell, killing plants and animals alike.

  I was surprised that I hadn't heard from Val or any other Larentii, but I probably would soon enough. I had a game plan, now, and my first action would draw an outcry from anyone with blue skin.

  I wanted to send an "I love you," to Val, but that could reveal my whereabouts. I couldn't take any chances from now on; the plan was about to be activated and I wouldn't be able to stop once it was in motion.

  Draining my cup, I rose with a sigh and placed a credit token on the cafe table. The server would never know I'd altered their coffee to render it drinkable to me. They'd also never realize that a Larentii sat at their table, casually considering how to rewrite history with the fewest strokes possible.

  Taking a deep breath, I bent time to arrive at a certain missile silo in the U.S. No, I didn't intend to stop the first wave of missiles. Or the second or third, for that matter.

  No.

  I needed to find the Lyristolyi, and I knew where and when they'd be at the silo. I intended to read them, before bending time again and making them very, very dead. They-and the one or ones who sent them, had become my first targets.

  Chapter 17

  Corinne

  I found I'd arrived a few minutes early. Shielding myself from the sight of silo personnel, I watched as they busied themselves with routine checks and communications.

  Until the Lyristolyi arrived and put a stop to it by killing all of them.

  It won't matter, I kept telling myself as shots were fired and blood spilled.

  One member of the Lyristolyi team-one I did and didn't expect-kept himself away from the violence and huddled against a wall before pulling out a comp-vid and avoiding the massacre by reading a book.

  His name was Morrett, he was Sirenali and I sympathized with his plight.

  Like Gerrett, he was mute. Like Gerrett-they were kin. Brothers. Gerrett had never said the name of his brother. I knew it now, just by looking at him. Reading him.

  Forcing my eyes away, I turned to the wizard employed by the Lyristolyi.

  Wymarr Belancour.

  Grasping.

  Ambitious.

  I'd feel no grief allowing him to die with the others.

  Just not yet.

  I turned to Fisk Boralus, then. He was operating under the direction of Geethe Cheriss, Prime Potentate of Lyristolys. There were no rogues, here. These were undercover agents who knew exactly what they were doing.

  They'd done it before, after all.

  They were experts in making it look as if worlds had destroyed themselves, when in actuality, they'd initiated conflict and let nature take its course. There was nothing noble in them or their cause-what they'd accomplished so far could have been done easier and with far less bloodshed.

  What I searched for last was dates and times-when they'd appear at a convenient place for me to meet up with them.

  All part of my plan.

  The only one I'd allow to live afterward was Morrett.

  I merely had to decide where to send him, so he'd be safest and most effective. It'll come to me, I promised myself and folded space.

  * * *

  Opal

  "You're just as safe here as anywhere else," I said. I'd folded space to arrive at the villa for breakfast, bearing bags of groceries.

  Food that was untainted by radiation would be hard to come by in the near future. In one way, it was fortunate that Earth's population had taken such a hit. It would be difficult enough to feed the few survivors.

  Still, there'd been no word or actions from Corinne.

  I was beginning to worry.

  After all, I understood that Rafe was still out there, doing his master's bidding. I wanted to laugh humorlessly at the fact that Phillips' bid for world domination would be over a shrinking, dying world.

  He'd be in charge of poisoned fields and mountains of rotting corpses.

  In other words, he'd be a despot in charge of nothing. It would be laughable if so many hadn't been sacrificed. What good would crown jewels and an alliance with an Asian dictator do him now?

  He'd been played, just like the rest of Earth's population.

  That's when I felt the first tremor.

  Yes, I, like many others who held power, expected Corinne to Change What Was for a handful of people. To be there at the right moment to restore their lives.

  Nobody would blame her if Ilya were among that number.

  Nobody expected something of this magnitude.

  * * *

  Lyristolys

  Grand Chambers of the Prime Potentate

  Corinne

  Only a Sirenali, a Larentii-or a god or godling-can hide themselves so thoroughly from those who hold power.

  Geethe Cheriss was alone in the Grand Chamber-he'd sent his aides and servants away.

  He was expecting company, after all. Company that wasn't supposed to exist. Company that would brand him an outlaw if they and their deeds were revealed. I waited just as Geethe did, for their arrival.

  I'd made preparations and I intended for everything to go without a hitch.

  Of course, I expected an outcry from Kalenegar and several others when time shifted afterward, but I was resolved now and there was no turning back.

  Fisk Boralus and his crew arrived
, courtesy of Wymarr Belancour. Well, Wymarr and his half-talented family had dabbled too often in the wrong waters. They would continue to do so, but without Wymarr's assistance.

  The time had come. Employing power, I locked all the doors leading into the chamber and placed a shield to prevent Wymarr's escape.

  Then, I Pulled in my weapon.

  He was hungry.

  Dinosaur Boy had a feast that day; eventually Wymarr grew too weary to fold space away from him and his spells and blasts just bounced off DB's tough scales. Eventually, when DB tired of the game of chase, Wymarr was also devoured.

  No, I didn't turn my eyes away from the carnage. Not after the visions had come to me of children turned to dust by nuclear weapons, or babies dying afterward quickly because they had no defense against radiation sickness.

  Fisk and his crew never turned a hair or felt a moment of guilt over the deaths of innocents. Morrett, on the other hand, did feel sorrow. I'd sent him away before DB began eating-there was no reason to inflict further trauma on him. I'd finally figured out what to do with him and imagined how surprised he'd be when and where he'd landed.

  I also imagined that he'd be safe enough there, and he'd end up keeping those around him safe from the predations of those intending harm.

  Yes, a root of history had just been destroyed. I was about to destroy more of them. Peeling myself away from the wall, I studied the Grand Chamber for a moment. DB had been neat in his table manners-for the most part. Only a blood-slicked floor remained of Fisk, Geethe, Wymarr and company.

  Nice work, I sent to DB before neutralizing his blood and sending him to the planet where he should have been born. There, the oceans were filled with his kind. He'd learn to communicate with them and live his life as he should.

  What in the name of the Three are you doing? Kalenegar's voice snapped in my head. I folded space before he had time to follow those words with his arrival.

  * * *

  Opal

  "What's happening?" Katya quavered. She, Sergei and their friends were terrified. James and Nathan had arms wrapped about each other after the quiet settled.