by Alex Siegel
Vulture sighed. "Forget it. Just forget the whole thing. If you keep pushing, the enemy might trace the story back to you."
He wandered back over to the man in charge of monitoring official communications channels.
"It's already over," Vulture said in a dour tone.
The operator was listening intently to his headset.
"Did you hear me?"
"We got something, sir," the operator said excitedly. "A professor at the San Francisco State University told the police he saw the woman and the girl just a couple of hours ago. They were in his office."
Vulture narrowed his eyes. "What kind of professor?"
"Physics."
"Huh? That makes no sense. I want to talk to this guy. Can you setup a secure phone call?"
"I think so, sir," the operator said.
"Make damn sure it's untraceable. Bounce it off a dozen satellites if you have to."
"I'll need a few minutes."
Vulture stepped away. He was hungry, so he wandered over to a buffet table set against the wall. A nice shrimp salad caught his eye, and he loaded up a plate. It included avocado, dill, and red pepper. He believed proper diet was essential even in times of crisis.
He returned to the operator. After about ten minutes, the operator gave a headset to Vulture.
Vulture put it on and heard ringing.
A man answered, "Hello?"
"This is Detective Lees of the San Francisco Police," Vulture said. "You called us?"
"Yes! I saw the woman and the girl. They looked exactly like the pictures in the article. But I already talked to the police."
"Tell me everything again. What did they say?"
"The woman was babbling about the year 1936," the professor said.
"What?"
"She claimed her spirit had travelled from 1936. She also mentioned she was the consort of King Edward. She was clearly insane. You need to catch her before something terrible happens to that poor, little girl."
Vulture was dumbfounded. After a moment, he realized what had happened. The woman had been on the yacht and had heard the lie. Somehow, she had been hiding just out of sight. He now understood why her behavior was so irrational. The ridiculous lie was driving her insane.
"We will. Thank you for helping. Bye." Vulture gave the headset back to the console operator.
Vulture walked off, thinking deeply.
Chapter Eighteen
Ipo, Hanley, Katie, Yang, and the legate were sitting in the living room area. It was a very comfortable place to have a meeting. The big, blue, overstuffed couches offered plenty of seating, and there were also recliners. Even though there were no walls, the living room was separated from the other parts of headquarters by enough space to provide a little privacy. A coffee table in the center was just the right size.
Maps and photographs covered the table now. The team was working out the gritty details of the museum exhibit. They still planned to open the exhibit tomorrow, and time pressure was making everybody tense.
Min Ho walked over and handed a few sheets of paper to Ipo. "We just got this, sir."
Ipo looked at the papers and realized they were a police report. He skimmed down to the interesting parts.
He grunted. "Marina and Olivia talked to a physicist named Ronald Wells in San Francisco."
"Why?" The legate raised her eyebrows.
"It appears Marina believes her spirit travelled through time from 1936. She wants to go back."
Katie nodded. "That actually makes sense to me. It's a good rationalization."
"I suppose," Hanley said. "If we got this report, the enemy could've also. Min Ho, see if the professor talked to anybody else."
"Already did that, sir," Min Ho said. "I even asked the professor myself."
"Oh?"
"I knew you were busy, so I took the initiative. There was another call, but I can't trace it."
"What do you mean?" the legate said. "The Society can trace any call."
He faced her with a fearful expression. "Not this one, ma'am. It was routed through a satellite we don't have access to."
"That's completely unacceptable. We're supposed to have a back door in every satellite in orbit. It's actually a secret federal law. When this is over, I'm going to have a chat with Admiral Porter at Strategic Command."
Ipo stared at her. Sometimes, he forgot how much power the legate had. She had contacts at the highest levels of government across the entire continent. He wondered if she had ever met the president.
Hanley looked down at the maps on the table. "Regardless, ma'am, the enemy might figure out this exhibit is targeted at Marina. We could have company tomorrow."
She grinned in a savage way. "That will save us the trouble of finding them."
* * *
Marina checked the angle of the sun. She and Olivia had been hiking through the mountains all afternoon, and soon, it would be too dark to continue. Marina was starting to believe the witch named "Rachiel" was just a myth. Many of the locals thought they knew where she lived, and so far, all of the directions had been wrong.
At least it had been a very pleasant outing. The vigorous exercise and the refreshing breeze had eased the turbulence in Marina's mind. Surrounded by nothing but nature, she could forget about years and names. Pine trees scented the air, and impressive redwoods provided shade when she needed it. Tiny flowers added color to the greens and browns of the forest.
Marina looked at Olivia. The little girl had taken off her sunglasses because they "bugged" her, but that had been her only complaint during long hours of marching up and down hills. Her stubborn perseverance was really starting to impress Marina. Olivia was the daughter Marina had always wanted.
"Did your parents ever teach you how to fight?" Marina said.
Olivia shook her head. "No."
"Maybe I'll give you a few lessons if we have time."
"When will that be? After you go back to 1936?"
Marina sighed. It was a good point. She would miss Olivia.
"What are you going to do if this witch can't help you?" Olivia said.
"I don't know. It's hard for me to make long-term plans. I've been very confused lately. I keep thinking my name is Marina when I know it's not. She's some kind of commander in a secret army. It's crazy."
"Maybe you should see a doctor."
"Maybe," Marina said.
"Or I could help you. Let me touch your head."
"That doesn't really solve my problems. It just makes me forget them for a little while."
Olivia wiped her eyes. "I wish I could forget my parents."
"Don't. Your memories of them are all you have left. Do you want another hug?"
Olivia nodded. Marina crouched down and gave the girl a warm hug. They were a little sweaty and dusty, but it didn't matter.
They continued hiking, but Marina kept an eye on the sun. They didn't want to be caught in the woods when it grew dark. It would take an hour to get back to the car.
They crested a hill, and a small cluster of huts came into view. Wooden frames supported walls made of thatch, vines, and twigs. Marina guessed each hut was just a single room. They didn't have chimneys, but there was a huge fire pit in the center of the tiny village. A smoky fire was burning, and an iron pot was hanging over it.
Five women were working near the fire. Two were cooking, two were weaving on an antique loom, and one was carving a piece of wood. They were singing in a language Marina didn't recognize, but it sounded Gaelic. They wore long, colorful gowns which struck her as medieval in design. The clothing seemed a little impractical for a rugged life in the wilderness.
"I think we found the witches," Marina whispered to Olivia. "Come on."
They hiked down a short hill to reach the huts. The witches turned towards the visitors.
"Hello?" a tall woman with long, brown hair said. She desperately needed to wash and brush that hair. "Who are you?"
Marina smiled. "We came to see Rachiel."
"She do
esn't see..."
An old woman came out of a hut. Her gray hair was tangled and wild, but her clothing was nice. She had a blue gown with metallic green stripes.
"Did somebody call my name?" Rachiel said.
She froze when she saw Marina. The blood drained from Rachiel's face, and her whole body began to shake.
"The Lady," she said in a harsh whisper. Her attention turned to Olivia. "The Pathokinetic. Great Mother protect me..."
Rachiel collapsed to the dirt.
The other witches scrambled to care for her. They took blankets and pillows from the huts and tried to make Rachiel comfortable. The women also shot plenty of dirty looks at Marina.
Marina didn't know what had happened, and she decided it was best to just wait quietly. She kept a protective hand on Olivia.
After a few minutes, Rachiel opened her eyes. She looked at Marina with obvious fear but didn't pass out again. Rachiel eventually stood up.
"Why are you so afraid of me?" Marina said.
"You don't know? You honestly don't know?"
"No. I didn't come here to hurt you. Why did you call me 'Lady'?"
Rachiel composed herself. She smoothed her gown and patted down her hair. "It was just a vision. Why are you here?"
"It will sound strange. I'm actually the secret consort of King Edward the Eighth of England. My spirit travelled in time and occupied the body you see now."
Rachiel stared at Marina.
Olivia leaned forward and said in a low voice, "I think she's a little bit crazy."
"Aren't you adorable," Rachiel said. "What's your name?"
"Olivia."
Marina frowned at Olivia for revealing her real name.
"You have amazing eyes," Rachiel said. "I sense a great power in you. Do you mind showing me?"
Olivia furrowed her brow. "I shouldn't..."
"That's right," Marina said quickly. "She shouldn't and she won't. She's not a sideshow freak. Can you help me?"
Rachiel looked back and forth between them. After a long moment, she said, "I believe I can. I will prepare a potion that will send your spirit to where it belongs." She smiled. "But first, let's have a feast."
Something about that smile put Marina on edge, but she said, "That would be great. We're certainly hungry."
Rachiel quickly gave orders to her coven. The other witches appeared confused, but they complied without question. Clearly, they had enormous respect for their leader.
Marina remembered her own team, and she wondered what they were doing. She wished she could see them again. She quickly shut down that train of thought because Sheila didn't have a team.
Marina and Olivia sat on cushions and watched the food being prepared. Marina didn't see any kind of meat. The main ingredients were nuts, berries, mushrooms, and leaves. Unleavened bread was the only ingredient of the meal that had been prepared ahead of time. The witches made a stew, sandwiches, and a salad.
When the cooking was done, everybody sat in a circle around the fire. The meal was served on wooden bowls and plates with flat iron utensils.
Marina was starving. She was about to eat when Rachiel cleared her throat and prayed.
"Great Goddess of day and night," she chanted, "protect us with all your might. I surround myself with an orb of gold, and this golden haze is constantly purified and separated from any negativity. May this space be safe for me and my coven."
The other witches gave her funny looks but remained silent.
Rachiel continued in another language. Marina's hunger was making her impatient, and the food was getting cold, but she sat and waited like a good guest.
Finally, Rachiel said, "Let's eat."
Marina dug in. Despite its simplicity, the food was very tasty. The witches knew how to cook.
"Tell us about yourself," Rachiel said.
"Actually," Marina said, "I don't have much to say. I know my name is Sheila, and I love King Edward, and that's about all. I must've left my memories in my old body. My new body came with plenty though. Too many."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm trapped inside somebody named Marina."
Rachiel furrowed her brow. "Who is she?"
"The commander of some kind of secret team of fighters with supernatural powers. It's totally insane. I'm sure you can understand why I want to go home."
"Indeed. Do you have a power?"
"These fingernails." Marina held up her hand and showed off her sharp, black fingernails. "They're like poison dispensers. I can put people to sleep or kill with them."
Rachiel swallowed. "The many lives you've taken have stained your soul black."
"That's Marina. She's filled whole graveyards, but Sheila isn't a mass murderer."
"But she has also killed."
"Only nine," Marina said, "but I had to protect Olivia."
The witches looked very uncomfortable.
"Most people would hesitate to admit such a thing," Rachiel said.
Marina shrugged. "It doesn't bother me. Some people just need to die."
Everybody continued to eat in silence, which was fine with her. She had talked enough.
Night had fallen by the time the meal was over. The only light came from the fire and the stars. Marina and Olivia just sat and listened to the witches sing in their secret language for a while. Their voices weren't bad, and the melodic tunes seemed full of ancient wisdom.
"Time for bed," Rachiel said at last. "Our guests will sleep while we prepare the potion. It should be ready by sunrise."
Marina smiled. The madness is almost over, she thought.
She and Olivia were given their own hut. Their bed was simply a blanket over a pile of hay, and they had another blanket on top for warmth. Neither was particularly clean. Marina decided to sleep in her clothes, and she told Olivia to do the same. The girl nestled against Marina.
After a few minutes, Marina whispered, "Do you think I'm a horrible person for killing those people?"
"I don't know," Olivia said. "I'm a freak and a monster."
"Stop saying that."
"It's true, isn't it?"
"Maybe," Marina said, "but it doesn't have to be a bad thing. Now let's go to sleep. Tomorrow, I get to go home."
She felt wetness on her chest where Olivia's face was pressed against it. Marina decided to ignore the sensation.
* * *
Ipo yawned as he walked into headquarters. He was making an early start after a late night of planning and preparation. He had a good feeling all the work would pay off. Today could easily be the last day of the mission.
He walked into the entry chamber. The security booth appeared empty again, but he assumed Charles was there. Ipo nodded respectfully to the invisible man.
"That's the second night shift in a row for you, sir," Ipo said.
"I'm old," Charles replied. His disembodied voice came through an overhead speaker. "I don't sleep well, anyway."
"I'm starting to feel guilty about letting your team take all the shifts in the booth."
"It's our job to protect Wesley, and this is the best way to do it."
"Still," Ipo said, "it's appreciated, sir."
He could almost see Charles. There was just a glimmer of a presence, a shadow of a shadow. Ipo tried to see more but couldn't maintain sufficient focus.
"Go in," Charles said. "Get back to work. It's going to be a busy day."
"Yes, sir."
Ipo went into the main part of headquarters. He smiled when he saw Min Ho and Jia already back at their computer workstations. They seemed to have limitless energy.
Ipo walked over to Min Ho. "How is it going?"
Min Ho looked up. "Well, sir. The advertising campaign is on schedule. I also identified the men in the white suits who were killed at the Civic Center. Should I save my report until everybody gets here?"
"Just give me a preview."
"They're members of the Guardians of the Pit. It's an extremist Christian cult. The FBI lists them as a terrorist organization. They
target fringe religions such as pagans, wiccans, and in particular, Satanists. The Guardians have been accused of kidnapping and torture, but there have been no convictions. They normally live on a compound in Vermont."
Ipo grunted. "And now they're cannon fodder in our little war. The good news is few will mourn their passing."
"Yes, sir."
"Carry on."
Ipo continued into headquarters. Yvonne and Guthrum were sparring in the workout area, but it was a strange contest. Yvonne was obviously using all of her considerable strength and speed. She was attacking almost recklessly with lethal techniques. Guthrum simply stepped out of the way and avoided contact every time, and she was left flailing at the air. He always knew where she would attack next. The only sounds were soft grunts. Ipo shook his head in wonder.
Atalanta and Boreas were sleeping on cots in front of the door of Marina's bedroom. Weapons were on the floor within easy reach.
Ipo looked at Boreas and wondered what it was like to be a legate's bodyguard. There were only seven legates in the world, and each had one personal bodyguard. It was a position that bestowed enormous honor. Only the most skilled and most dangerous warriors in the Society were selected. The bodyguard was privy to nearly all the legate's secrets and rarely left her side. Ipo couldn't help but feel a little jealous.
Ipo gently cleared his throat. Atalanta and Boreas both opened their eyes, and Ipo wondered if they had already been awake.
"The legate and Wesley are in the bedroom?"
Boreas nodded. "Yes," he said in a rough, deep voice. "There is only one real bed here, so they had to share."
"I thought she was furious at him."
"She decided getting a good night's sleep was more important than pride."
Ipo smiled. "What's it like working for her?"
"Challenging. She doesn't care much about her personal safety. She's always going into dangerous situations and relying on me to watch her back."
"But she's not helpless."
"That's true," Boreas said. "Have you ever seen her fight with her silver machetes?"
"No."
"She's spectacular."
