John-Pierre felt the tap and instinctively moved to slash Jarman's throat but to his sudden surprise found that his hand was frozen in place and radiating with a tingling energy that quickly moved up through his arm and across his shoulders. Durand fought to regain control of his body as the energy continued to move through his neck and into his head. In a blinding moment, he felt a new sense of awareness and realized that he was now standing just in front of his body and it seemed that time was almost frozen. He looked about and the room was perfectly lit and free of shadows.
Stunned by his new sense of vision, he heard a voice call from behind him. “John-Pierre.” He turned and could see Anthony standing a few feet behind him.
“H ... Ha ... How...” he stammered.
“You mean how did I do this?” Anthony replied calmly.
“Oui. Am I dead? Have you killed me? Am I dreaming?"
“No, you're not dreaming. This is as real as it gets. Are you dead? Let's just say that you're halfway there."
“And why are you doing this to me?"
“I'm trying to save your life."
John-Pierre laughed. “I think it is you who is trying to save your own life. Just look over at Vigo who now appears frozen in time. I have a gun to your back, a knife to your throat and I'm fast enough to kill you both before he can fire his weapons. He knows it. I see it in his eyes now. I'm certain of it."
“Perhaps not, but come with me and see for yourself."
John-Pierre followed Anthony as he walked around Vigo's frozen figure.
“See for yourself. Go look through the gun sight."
The offer made him curious, and Durand found it amazingly easy to move through the young man's body and looked for himself. It was perfectly aimed to place the first bullet through his exposed right eye. “My God,” he exclaimed.
“Now look at his trigger finger and the firing mechanism inside his weapon,” Anthony said. John-Pierre leaned over and studied Vigo's hand on the HK grip. Vigo already had the trigger pulled back so close to the point of release that all it would take was a minute flick of his finger to fire the weapon.
“The fear you see in his eyes is real John-Pierre, because he does not know that I can continue to immobilize your hand even after he shoots. And, he will take that shot in just a moment of time because he knows that your knife is actually forced against my protective neck collar and he's counting on it to stop your blade from slicing my throat."
In the soft, brilliant light that now seemed to fill the control room, John-Pierre could see the thin collar around Anthony's neck to prevent him from being garroted to death. Would it stop a determined slice of a scalpel-sharp blade? John-Pierre realized that it was the gun he was now holding against Anthony's back that presented the greatest threat.
“John-Pierre, can I ask you for a small favor in this tiny slice of time I've created for you?"
“Yes, I suppose,” He replied hesitatingly.
“I want you to sense your feelings right now."
“What?"
“What are you feeling, John-Pierre?"
Durand paused for a moment and then slowly responded. “I think I feel at peace, but I have been angry for so much of my life I'm not sure. Is this what it is like when you're dead?"
“In part, yes. However, this does not have to be your time John-Pierre."
“Why?"
“Because if it were, your family would be here to help you across. But as you can see, we're alone."
“What do you want of me,” Durand pleaded. “What!"
Anthony smiled and held out his hands. “All I want you to do, John-Pierre, is to look into your own soul for the right answer."
“And what will I find?"
“Truth."
John-Pierre paused and searched within himself. Finally, he said, “I know I don't want to waste your life. Nor do I want to waste mine."
“And what do you want now?"
“I never want to be angry with life again. Nor to be driven by hate.” He turned to look at himself. “Look at me. I became a pitiful monster willing to sell his soul for a handful of currency. I can never go back to that life now. Not after feeling what I'm feeling. I want my life to have a purpose. I am not who I was before and I could never, nor would I ever want to be that again."
Anthony came closer. “Then we must work closely together to save both of our lives. I will return you to your body and stay here with Vigo to slow him down long enough for you to change things. Do you understand what I mean?"
“Yes, but can you trust me? Why should you trust me?"
“Because in every man's soul there is an ounce of goodness John-Pierre and you've found yours. Some people think it takes a lifetime of prayer to change, but all it really takes is just a tiny sliver of time, time enough to find that ounce of goodness. From there, all things change."
“If this doesn't work, I want to thank you,” John-Pierre said with sincere gratitude.
Anthony nodded with a smile and John-Pierre suddenly found himself facing Vigo again. He dropped his knife as Vigo strained in a futile attempt to pull the trigger of his HK to the release point. “Don't shoot,” John-Pierre blurted out into the darkness as his blade clanked on the concrete floor. “I'll help you, old friend."
John-Pierre then stepped away from behind Anthony and let his pistol dangle on his finger tip by its trigger guard as he held it up in clear view. For all of his adult life, Durand had never feared death because he never really loved it. Now, he was no longer afraid of death but for different reasons. If this was his time, he knew he would meet it the right way.
“Don't shoot Vigo,” Anthony ordered as he opened his eyes. “OK everyone, let's just take a deep breath and relax."
“Switch the emergency lights back on, Durand,” Vigo ordered keeping the muzzle of his HK trained on the man's head.
“Press the yellow button on the console next to you,” he replied. Vigo glanced down quickly, found the button and pressed it.
As the reddish lights popped back on, Anthony began to sag. John-Pierre caught him and sat him down on a rolling chair. “I'll be OK in a minute,” Anthony said as his vision cleared. “Jean-Pierre, who else is in here?"
“Governor Johnston and his secretary Danielle Peters. They are with the boy in the room upstairs. You already killed Joe Napolitano in the access way."
“So why are they here?” Vigo asked.
“They arrived early this morning. They plan to move the boy out of the country and they were preparing him for travel in a portable biostasis chamber. If you had come a few hours later, all this would have been for nothing. What about the others on top?"
“They're all dead except Darkazani,” Anthony replied. “Tell us about the woman."
“Danielle Peters. A pretty number she is, but deadly as a viper. The minute she thinks you've got any chance of succeeding, she'll kill the boy."
“Do you know who the boy is John-Pierre,” Vigo asked. John-Pierre shrugged his shoulders to show that he didn't know. “Well then, I'll tell you. He is Anthony's son, and De Bono had him kidnapped. His mother and stepfather were killed in the process."
Durand held his hands out towards Anthony with a pained expression. “I'm so sorry. I didn't know, but now I truly understand why you are here. I would do the same. How can you ever forgive me for this?"
“Only you can forgive yourself John-Pierre.” Anthony replied. “What happened before is in the past now and this is your moment in time to choose a new future."
John-Pierre's head rose bravely with a renewed sense of purpose. “Then I choose to give my life to the protection of you and your family from this day forward."
“That is more than I can ask for,” Anthony protested.
“It is not for you to accept, Anthony, it is for me to decide and this is my choice."
Vigo's eyes shot back and forth between the two men with consternation. “I don't believe what I'm hearing!” he exclaimed as he continued to keep his HK trained on Durand.
Anthony turned to him with a pained expression his face. “It's on the level Vigo, so please put the gun down and let's work together to save Russell."
“His name is Russell,” John-Pierre repeated. Anthony nodded. “Then I must do it! Only I can prevent this Danielle Peters woman from killing him. You must trust me in this!"
* * *
Death in the Silo
DURING THE ASSAULT on the tunnel, Anthony had shot out the console computer that had been connected to the primary feed from the Spitfire UHF Manpack Terminal antenna. John-Pierre needed to see what, if anything, Danielle Peters and Governor Johnston were doing in the crew quarters upstairs and examined the internally powered signal splitter. He found it was still working, which meant they were able to remotely operate the Spitfire connection with the MILSATCOM satellites overhead.
He opened a small wall locker and found a spare webpad, connected it to the splitter and switched it on. “Let's see what they're doing up there,” he said under his breath.
Two images frames appeared side-by-side. First was an overhead satellite view of the silo field. At the northern edge of the field, they could see a column of ten Bradley M3 tracked armored fighting vehicles. Carrying six fully equipped infantry men each, the Bradley's were also equipped with Boeing M242 Bushmaster chain guns, capable of firing up to 500 rounds of armor piercing 25mm depleted uranium per minute. “This doesn't make sense,” John-Pierre glanced back at Vigo and wondered out loud. “The Bradley can travel at speeds up to sixty-six kilometers per hours. So why are they crawling along at just twenty kilometers per hour?"
Vigo ignored the question until Anthony spoke up. “Tell him, Vigo."
“Because they know what your people were doing down here John-Pierre and they're in no particular hurry to save your butts."
John-Pierre nodded remembering Joe's warning that there was a traitor in De Bono's organization. “I don't care why. I just needed to know, and now I know what to do."
Anthony pointed at the second video frame on the webpad. “What about the other channel?” The status line showed an active link but the screen was filled with a blue hatch pattern indicating a secure transmission lock.
“It is on a secure link and keyed to the vital signs monitor mounted over Russell's bed. Obviously, Danielle or the Governor is having a dialogue with someone else, but there is no way to see what they are saying. We can't even tap into the webcam in the vital signs monitor to see what they're doing in the room."
“But can they see the satellite feed in there?” Vigo asked.
“Yes, but I doubt they would see that the armored column from Fort Hood is moving so slowly. That takes a practiced eye. Johnston wouldn't understand it, but Danielle Peters might. To be sure, I'll tell them something just in case."
“Can they hear us upstairs?"
John-Pierre turned around and leaned up against the edge of the console. “No. You already shot out the intercom, and between the ventilation system and acoustical tiles here in the control room and the crew quarters steel door upstairs, they're deaf. They're probably sitting up there waiting for you to begin cutting through the door and hoping the Turkish Peacekeepers get here from Houston in time."
“Turkish Peacekeepers?” Vigo sighed. “How much time do we have?"
“Thirty minutes minimum, forty-five minutes at the max. They would have been here earlier but there was some foul-up along the way. Johnston was really pissed. But I think the armored column from Fort Hood will get here long before that, even though they're advancing at a snail's pace."
“Don't worry about them,” Vigo replied. “We need to set our timing on the Turks. If we can get to the boy within the next five minutes, we'll be in good shape. Any longer than that will make it a close call. We've also got a wounded man back out in the storage room. Your other man caught him in the leg and he's lost a lot of blood. We need to get the boy and take care of our wounded, and we need to do it fast, so if you have a plan, John-Pierre, I'd like to hear it right now. If not, I'm still running the show."
“Give me a moment,” John-Pierre asked as he walked to the base of the stairs and looked up, methodically reviewing the situation point-by-point in his mind. It only took a matter of seconds for a plan to form in his mind before he turned to face Vigo and Anthony.
“The most important thing we have to do is to get Danielle Peters to open the crew quarters door from the inside. It is half-inch hardened steel, and she's got a stack of self-welding braces next to the door, which means she can hold us off until the Turks get here. Convincing her to open the door is the most critical step. We know she can see the column moving in from Fort Hood, but your people topside do not seem to be aware of this, so we need to stage a rear guard action. I need you to contact your people topside and tell them to split their forces. Send a small contingent down through the main entrance with your medical team. Then, send the rest north towards the column coming down from Fort Hood, and make it look like they are setting up an ambush."
“That would look suicidal, wouldn't it?” Anthony asked.
“You wouldn't be here if you weren't already suicidal,” John-Pierre quipped.
Vigo chuckled. “You've got a point, there,” he admitted. “Anthony, get the people topside on this immediately, and tell Dr. Boole as much as you can about Charlie's condition. Then, tell the Israelis to take the SUVs and head north to lay an ambush, along with Darkazani and their wounded. Once we have Russell, we'll signal them to hightail it to the Flying Circus, telling them that we'll find our own way out. They already have an arranged flight corridor all the way to Mexico. While you're doing that, I'm going to go over the crew quarters layout with John-Pierre."
* * * *
AS SOON AS the emergency lights had come back on, Danielle and Johnston finished moving Russell to the portable biostasis chamber, and Antonio De Bono's image appeared in the secure lock video frame. From the security dome in his office in Geneva, De Bono zoomed out the webpad camera on the bezel of the wall mounted vital signs monitor to reveal a wide view of the entire crew quarters’ room. As Danielle and Johnston began to seal the chamber he said, “Leave it open in case you have to terminate the boy."
His voice caught them both by surprise. Johnston rose and faced the monitor. “Antonio, we lost our communications for a while. We can't hear a thing in here except some occasional muffled gunfire.” Johnston was pale with fright.
“The Turks and the Americans are both on their way,” De Bono replied. “I just finished speaking with Colonel Bazoglu. They will be there in half an hour, but I think the Americans will be there before then. How long can you hold out in there?"
Danielle stood up and walked to the monitor. “I see the Americans moving in now, Secretary General. Give me a moment.” She tapped a few times on the meter-wide display and zoomed the surveillance satellite camera to a close shot of the area above them. The display showed four figures entering the main access to the silo carrying large satchels as the two SUVs started north towards the oncoming Americans. “Secretary General, my guess is that the first team is dead or stalled and they've called in reinforcements while the rest most likely plan to stall the Americans. If they were here in the control room already, we'd know it by now. I'd say our odds of holding them off till the Turks get here are fifty-fifty."
“Can't you get them here any sooner?” Johnston pleaded.
De Bono shook his head. “Colonel Bazoglu is pushing it as hard as he can. They're flying here at maximum speed, and one of their aircraft has already had to turn back due to an engine failure. As for the Americans, I wouldn't trust them. Their President was very reluctant to send in his troops. You've got to hold out till Bazoglu and his men get there."
“Thanks to the mercs,” Danielle said, “We've still got a few tricks up our sleeves."
* * * *
JOHN-PIERRE CLIMBED THE stairs halfway up toward the crew quarters and motioned for Anthony and Vigo to remain at the top of the stairs, out sight from the crew quarter
s’ entrance. After they moved back, leaning against the galley wall, he knocked on the steel door to the crew quarters and shouted through the door, “Are you OK in there?"
A huge wave of relief came over Danielle and Johnston. “Stay here next to the monitor,” she ordered as she ran across the room to the door and shouted in reply, “Yes, we're OK in here. What is happening on your end?"
“Do you want the good news first,” John-Pierre replied sardonically.
Danielle sagged. “Don't give me this macho crap right now."
“Does the governor have my bonus check ready? I believe the agreed amount is one million Euros tax free."
Danielle laid her forehead against the door and muttered to herself, “Men!” She sighed. “That's the deal, but you haven't earned it yet, so let's stop playing games,” she shouted through the door.
She could hear John-Pierre laugh through the door. As much as it annoyed her, it also gave her comfort to hear that he felt secure enough in his position to laugh at a moment like this.
“OK, Danielle. First, the good news. Joe managed to seal the inner blast door between the accessway tunnel and the storage room. It seems we're up against British SAS and he managed to kill one before they got him. The other two made it into the tunnel as the blast door was closing and I killed them both in the control room. That's why the emergency lights were off for a while. You could say I like knife fighting in the dark."
Johnston and De Bono overheard the conversation from the other end of the room. “The Americans betrayed us,” De Bono hissed loud enough for Danielle to hear him as she stood next to the door. “And now they're using their English friends to do their dirty work for them. Forget the Americans. They will not help us!"
Danielle faced the door again. “What's the bad news John-Pierre?"
“They've just started cutting on the inner blast door with a laser torch. That door is two inches thick and they'll be through it in ten minutes. Given this door is only a half inch thick, they'll be able to lase through it like a hot knife through butter. We've got to slow them down Danielle."
Godschild Covenant: Return of Nibiru Page 60
