The Time Portal 4: The Inquisition

by Joe Corso

  “I did some digging, Lucky,” Kinsey responded, “and you’re not going to like it.”

  “Give it to me straight. Just who is he?”

  “James Lee is none other than the Director of China’s Secret Police. He’s Quiang Shan. I’m faxing you his office and home addresses. All the information you need is in the fax. He’s very much a patriotic Chinaman and an utterly ruthless bastard – cruel beyond belief. Uses medieval torture methods and after all that, getting what he wants, still finishes off his victims. He’s your man. He’s using the Russians to do his dirty work. Speaking of the Russians, they’ll be arriving at Kennedy at 2:10 this afternoon. You have a couple of hours to get to Kennedy if you want to nab them there.”

  “We’ll handle the Russians. Thanks Jack,” Lucky said, “and then I’m going after Quiang whatever Lee.”

  Kinsey was quiet for a moment. He then said, “Lucky maybe it’s better if I handle this with my security people. Whatta you think?”

  “Thanks, Jack, but I’m going. I need to meet Mikilov and his boys face-to-face. Mikilov’s ‘on vacation’, so he says, so let’s give him a vacation. He’ll get a vacation and a chance to study history at the same time,” Lucky chuckled. “A simple flip of the coin will determine exactly which lesson.”

  “Careful Lucky,” Jack said.

  “Talk to you later . . . and thanks for finding out all this for me. Appreciate it Jack.”

  “Anytime, Lucky. Anytime.”

  Lucky walked over to the fax machine, picked up the fax from Jack and studied the information. Lucky’s gang, overheard the conversation, and were now anxious to hear Lucky’s plan.

  “Let’s all sit here,” Lucky said, pointing to a large circular table in the room, so we can have a roundtable, so to speak.”

  The men assembled themselves around the table.

  “The Russians will be landing at 2:10 this afternoon. I intend to pick them up. I don’t think we’ll do anything with Mikilov’s men. I’m thinking that the best thing to do is to just put them back on the plane and send them on their way. Mikilov is all mine. I’m gonna grab him and before he knows what hit him, he’ll be in another land, at another time, far, far away from the luxuries that he knows. I’ll make a call to Johnny Long before we go, so get your gear and pack the car. I’ll be there in a moment.”

  Johnny Long was Lucky’s longtime friend and Director of the FBI. Having friends in high places came in handy, just as Lucky had planned . . . and designed. Long owed him. Lucky had put him there, in his position, just as he had placed Jack Kinsey in his prestigious position, for moments like this.

  Lucky called Johnny on his private cell phone.

  “Hello Lucky,” Long answered. “To what do I owe the honor of this call?”

  “I have some Russians coming for me. They’ll be landing at 2:10, Kennedy Airport.”

  “Wait a minute. You mean the Russians are still harassing you? I thought you had that all straightened out.”

  “I did have it straightened out. Actually, it’s the Chinese, but they’re using the Russians to do their dirty work to get me. Remember the guy, the one whose ass I kicked in Russia? Well, bingo, they knew exactly who to use for this mission. He’s still pissed, humiliated is more like it, so I guess I’m a bit of a sore spot for him.”

  “Whatta you need, Lucky?”

  “The boys and I are heading to Kennedy the moment I hang up from you. I’d like you to meet us there. I’m gonna take Mikilov somewhere and drop him there. I don’t need to be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life. The other three guys I want you to put back on the Chinese plane. Make sure they leave. Can you do that for me?”

  “Of course. I’ll meet you at the terminal – leaving as soon as we hang up. I’ll be coming from the city so you’ll probably beat me there.”

  “Look Johnny, don’t rush it. We have a couple of hours before they land. I just want to be in a position to grab them as they leave the terminal.”

  “We won’t have to wait for them to leave the terminal,” Long insisted. “We’ll meet the plane at the jet bridge. I’ll ‘suggest’ that the three men stay on the plane while the pilots re-fuel and then I’ll personally stay there to make sure they leave. Does that work for ya?”

  “Perfect, Johnny,” Lucky answered. “Better than my plan. Just allow Mikilov to get off the plane and as soon as I touch him, he’s gone.”

  The Astoria safe house was only twenty minutes from Kennedy Airport so Mickey and Lucky took their time driving. Their diplomatic tags and ID’s came in handy as they walked past the screeners, directly into the airport’s security office. They informed the head of security, Mr. Jason Jackson, that they were waiting for Johnny Long, the Director of the FBI, to arrive, explaining that their primary interest was to intercept a Chinese flight out of Sheremetyevo 2 International Airport.

  Johnny Long, must have sped the whole way as he entered the security office just ten minutes after Lucky. The men all checked the atomic clock located in the office. It would, with precision, tell them the exact time. Right now, it said that they had about thirty minutes before China Flight 220’s scheduled landing at gate ten. Johnny told the on duty officer, Sam Kelt, that he wanted China Flight 220 diverted to hanger six because of a potential national security risk – told Kelt to inform the captain that he would be boarding the plane to perform a routine inspection, to hold all passengers on board, until he got on.

  The plane glided to a stop, its nose pointed toward the doors of the large hanger. Johnny and Mickey walked up the steps of the moveable platform and entered the plane. Long removed a passport photo of Andrenovich Mikilov from his pocket, looked at it, turned and looked out at the passengers. His eyes locked onto Mikilov as he slowly walked directly to him.

  “Mr. Mikilov, please come with us,” Long said. “The rest of you will remain on the plane until we clear you,” he said directing his comments to the remaining passengers on board.

  There was nothing for Mikilov to do but acquiesce. He was inside tight quarters, surrounded by people who he knew could turn on him at any moment, inside a hanger. He allowed Johnny to escort him from the plane. The captain of the plane then came onto the PA essentially advising the other passengers to remain in their seats until further notice. A gasoline truck began refueling. Once the truck had done its job, the control tower advised the Chinese captain that his plane was not permitted to remain at Kennedy.

  “You are cleared for takeoff on Runway 2. Winds SSE at ten knots. Once airborne, you will be escorted out of American airspace by two F-35 Lightning ll jet aircrafts.”

  After take-off, and once in the air, the captain of the Chinese jet looked outside to find two military stealth aircrafts flying along either side of him. Whatever it was, it was serious business.

  Johnny Long escorted Mikilov into the security area inside a special interrogation room. Mikilov stuck to his story, kept denying everything about Lucky, anything about Irwin, and anything about any Chinese. He was man simply on vacation. After a few moments of monitoring Long’s line of questioning from the two-way mirror and hearing Mikilov’s resistance, Lucky stepped into the room. Lucky could have taken Mikilov as soon as he deplaned. He could take him right now, as a matter of fact, but he wanted to find out what he knew. Mililov straightened his body when he saw Lucky and Mickey enter and close the door behind them. He showed no concern.

  “So we meet again, Mr. Campo,” Mikilov said sarcastically.

  “Yes, we do,” Lucky answered. “I wasn’t quite satisfied with the outcome the last time we met.”

  “You surprised me back then, Mr. Campo. It will not happen again. I can promise you.”

  “You’re right about that. I have a nice surprise for you, Mikilov. I hear that you wanted to go on vacation. Well, I will be happy to accommodate that request if you just indulge me and answer a few questions.”

  “Go to hell, Campo. I tell you nothing.”

  “Would you mind stepping back a little Johnny? Thanks,”
Lucky said.

  Lucky walked over to Mikilov and hooked his arm under his. He leaned one step to his left and instantly they were standing in the cell Lucky had occupied when he took Koros to see his ancestor. There were two occupants in the cell. One was sitting on the floor with his back to the adjourning cell; the other was lying on a filthy, insect infested bed of hay. Another cell held five bedraggled prisoners. Rodents walked through the cells with impunity. A large water rat slid out from a hole in the outside wall and casually walked past them, stopping to look at the two intruders, as though waiting to be fed. The prisoners stood shivering from the cold that penetrated their bones and the pain that the dampness brought. Mikilov looked up and down at all the cells. What he saw could have been a scene from a nineteen thirties horror film. The prisoners were all living skeletons. Mikilov turned to Lucky, but Lucky was gone.

  Not even two minutes had passed from the time Lucky had disappeared and taken Mikilov to the dungeon. It happened that fast. “Jesus,” Johnny exclaimed as Lucky suddenly materialized in front of him and Mickey, practically knocking him over. “Wow. I just never expected that,” he said. “I think I need a moment,” he said as he sat down in the chair previously occupied by Mikilov. “Lucky, what the hell? How long have you been doing that?”

  Lucky smiled and told him everything. When he finished, Johnny just said, “It’s a good thing you’re on our side.”

  “Yeah, well thanks for being there for me,” Lucky said. “The favor goes both ways. If you ever need me for anything, just let me know. Hey, what happened today stays just between us, okay? I got enough problems. Getting tired of runnin’ after bad guys,” he laughed.

  Long laughed with him, all the time shaking his head. Long and Lucky walked toward the airport garage together and said their their good-byes at the elevator. Lucky and his men hopped into their car and headed back to the safe house. Lucky had his plan. It was time to present it to the guys.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Guys, what I’m about to discuss with you is important so please pay attention. Mickey, have you contacted the professor?” Lucky asked.

  “Yep. He’s getting the airship and the invisibility suits ready.”

  “Any idea of when he’ll be operational?”

  “He said there’s not a lot to do with the equipment, but he’s givin’ it a once over to make sure everything’s working okay. The last thing he said he wants is for one of us to be killed because of a malfunction. He’ll be here tomorrow.”

  “Good. Okay guys, here’s the address of where I’ll be. And here’s a map of the town in China. I’ve circled the area. If for any reason I’m not back within twenty-four hours, then you guys plug in the address in the spaceship’s GPS and come and get me. It’s just that simple. Any questions?”

  The men shook their heads indicating no.

  “Okay, good. The exact time is 4:14 pm. Remember, if I’m not back by this time tomorrow . . . well . . . you know what to do. See you guys tomorrow sometime.” And with that, he stepped into a portal, just himself, and was gone. Lucky materialized in Quiang Shan’s office just as he was in the process of issuing orders to his deputy Quon Zhixin. His sudden appearance stunned them. They were speechless.

  “Sorry for not knocking,” Lucky said with a smirk, “but I understand you wanted to see me?”

  Shan’s face suddenly curled into what was to him a smile. His mouth formed a round circle and his eyes became slits as he laughed that coughing signature laugh of his, rarely ever heard. Without realizing it, Lucky had just inadvertently confirmed Shan’s suspicion that he could go just about anywhere he wanted. Shan’s mind was working overtime. This man was now officially a definite threat to China’s security and he must be destroyed. The Director of the Chinese Secret Service rose from his seat and approached Lucky. He was a larger man than Lucky and well muscled. Lucky surmised that he spent a great deal of time keeping himself looking all buff and in shape and then reflected on how he, personally, had become so negligent with his strength training. His previously hard, muscular cut body was now exhibiting signs of becoming soft. Lucky was still in better shape than most men, but because he hadn’t had the opportunity to work out much lately, he could feel the difference.

  “Please do not come any closer, Mr. Shan, or I will be forced to leave you.”

  Shan didn’t come move any closer, but he didn’t take a step backward either.

  “Tell me, Mr. Campo, what do you want from my country?” Shan asked with a silly grin on his face.

  Lucky retorted angrily. “I don’t want a fuckin’ thing from you or your country. Whatever the hell, whoever the hell, gave you that idea? What I want from you and China right now is to leave me alone and the more I work at being left alone, the more idiots like you keep coming after me. Now, listen to me Shan – your Russian friends are on their way back to Russia. All except Mikilov. He’s rotting away in a fourteenth century dungeon. And speaking of hell, now there’s a man who knows now what hell is. He’s livin’ it.

  Lucky’s attention was completely focused on Shan. He never noticed Shan’s deputy take the mini stun gun from his pocket. In seconds, Lucky was unconscious.

  When Lucky awoke, he found his arms chained in an “X” formation. His legs were spread eagle. He was powerless to do anything. A portal was useless as he could not walk to enter it. There was a man sitting in a chair staring at him. The moment Lucky regained consciousness, he let out a yell. The door opened and Shan walked in. Lucky watched the way he walked. For a large man, he walked like a cat, smooth and confident. Lucky had read Kinsey’s report on Shan. The report documented Shan’s ruthless methods of interrogation. It told in detail of torture much like that of the inquisition. There was the sudden realization that he, Lucky, needed to hold on or hold out for at least twenty-four hours. That’s what he had told his guys – to come looking for him if he hadn’t returned in twenty–four hours. How foolish he’d been. He’d been cocky, arrogant, filled with overconfidence about his portal and travel abilities. Never had it dawned on him that someone could knock him out with a stun gun.

  The flying saucer spaceship could travel at much higher speeds than the average fifteen hundred miles per hour or more than it normally flew. Lucky’s hope was now that his buddies would do that today, and by some stretch of hope, would arrive in two to three hours and perhaps reach out to him. But the fact remained that he had distinctly told them to wait twenty-four hours.

  Shan was wearing a white smock. He was also wearing rubber gloves. He walked straight over to Lucky and without warning punched him hard in his abdomen, deep into his solar plexus, with his right hand. Had Lucky been expecting it, he might have been able to tighten his stomach muscles and absorb some degree of its power. But as it was, Lucky took the full brunt of the gut punch, and it almost knocked him out. He wretched and heaved as he tried to catch his breath, while Shan circled him, smiling. Lucky was still gasping, sucking air into his lungs, grasping for each breath when Shan hit him again, this time in his liver. Shan’s martial arts training had taught him how to cause the greatest amount of pain exerting the least amount of energy. And right now, that was all quite obvious to Lucky. So far, only two punches and Lucky was feeling more beat up than all his other physical altercations, combined, in his life. Shan circled Lucky a few more times, more for psychological effect than anything else. He stopped in front of Lucky.

  “Ready to talk?” Shan finally said.

  “What is it that want to talk about?” Lucky answered him.

  Shan smiled. “We can do this until next week if you like. I have the time. Do you?”

  Lucky smirked.

  “Laugh while you can, Campo,” Shan said. “You will wish that you never met me.”

  Lucky glared at him. “No Shan. It’s the other way around. You’ll wish you had never met me. I promise you, and I always keep my promises.”

  The next two hours were most unpleasant. Shan hit Lucky repeatedly with his fists and when his arms grew weary of
swinging, he took a hot poker and placed it at various, strategic points on Lucky’s body, burning him all over, and when that didn’t work, he thrashed him with a whip. Lucky held out until eventually his body gave up and he passed out.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Lucky’s neighborhood gang was all suited up, looking spiffy. The suits and shoes did it. Each of the guys looked like a million bucks, sitting in the plush captains chairs of the spaceship, cruising high above the earth at fifteen hundred miles per hour. Mickey unbuckled his safety harness and walked over to the professor.

  “Professor, can’t you get this thing to go any faster?”

  “Yes,” he answered, “but I haven’t had the chance to test its flight at any speeds above this speed.”

  “Well, let’s do it now,” Mickey insisted. “Take the ship to two thousand miles per hour and let’s see how well she handles it.”

  “But . . . I, I don’t know . . . ”

  “Do it. Time’s awasting,” Mickey said. Something was bugging Mickey and through the years, he had come to trust it.

  The professor had been longing to try flying the saucer at higher speeds but was always hesitant to do so. But at Mickey’s urging, he pushed the propulsion stick forward a notch. The saucer lurched forward and registered two thousand mph in a flash.

  “Push it up another notch,” Mickey said. “Let’s try it at twenty-five hundred.”

  “Mickey, don’t you think that is a little dangerous?” the professor asked. “Look, I created this ship and I’m telling you that it really needs proper testing. We could blow something out and that does us no good.”

  “Professor, this ship can fly a lot faster than that. I know it. You said it yourself when we were building it, but we just never found the time to try it. Are your temperature gauges showing the outer skin heating up?”

  “The outer temperature has risen, but not dramatically.”