The Unseen Trilogy

by Stephanie Erickson

  “What’s up?” she asked, clearly sensing my discouragement.

  “I just feel like no matter how hard we work on this, it doesn’t matter. We need more weapons to fight them.”

  “Yes, we do, but we’re not going to win the war by rushing it. People all across the country are fighting this. We’re going to have a breakthrough soon. It’s just a matter of time. Until then, we need to stay focused. It may seem abstract now, but this skill will be immensely useful once we’re on the front lines again. You’ll see.”

  “I know you’re right.” And when the time came, I would be ready. In truth, it would feel good to dispense with all the behind-the-scenes work. I wanted to get into the trenches and stop them before anyone else had to die.

  We were silent for a moment, and with nothing else to do but focus on the task at hand, I went back to thinking about our signatures. I wondered what mine looked like. I knew how to detect Rebecca’s—and David’s and Owen’s, for that matter. But my own was still a mystery.

  I thought about the things that made me who I was, traveling down the rabbit hole of my internal self for what seemed like an eternity. I watched memories float by, moments, people, and things I held dear, opinions I felt strongly, emotions, and everything else that made up me.

  At the end, I found my signature—small, defenseless, and unassuming. It looked to me like a golden treble cleft, giving my life’s notes some basic direction.

  Okay, now that I’ve found you, how do I defend you? I thought as I held the cleft gently in my hands.

  I didn’t want to create any defenses that would draw attention to the very thing I wanted to keep secret and safe, but I did want to ensure my safeguards were virtually impenetrable if an intruder found my signature.

  I began with a black box. Made of strong, indestructible material of my own imagining, it blended almost seamlessly with the rest of my mind. It had no opening, no hinges, and no lock. The only way to open it was if I placed my own hand on top of it. Once I did, the seam would appear, and the lid would come off. I placed it on the ground of my subconscious, and then let it disappear into the depths of my mind. Someone would only find it if they literally tripped over it, and even then, they’d have a hell of a time getting into it without my permission.

  My only concern was that I’d hidden my signature too well. Would this hinder my ability to form connections with the others? But that was a bridge to cross another day.

  When I finally opened my eyes, I had no concept of how much time had passed. Rebecca was making notes on the dry erase board in the room.

  Potestas. Zero. Location. Release devices. Timing. Where next? Goals. Defenses. Connections.

  “I think I did it. But I have no idea if my defenses will impede our ability to find each other.”

  “Oh geez, I didn’t even think of that. We’ll have more work to do, testing and—”

  “All personnel, please report to the conference room at once. Emergency meeting to begin in one minute.” David’s disembodied voice startled me to attention.

  “I didn’t know we had a PA system,” I said to Rebecca as we rushed out of the room.

  “Me neither. Must be special to the new facility?” She hadn’t lived in our Florida home for long, but maybe they hadn’t had the feature at her old facility either.

  Rebecca started following the crowd, but I knew Owen would need help. “Hey, I’ll catch up with you later,” I said, and she nodded her understanding.

  Camden came toward me. He looked like he was coming from the rooms, so I stopped him. “Seen Owen?”

  “Nope, just on my way to the conference room,” he said in his deep, soothing voice.

  “Okay, I’ll be right there. I just want to make sure Owen gets to the meeting okay.”

  Then it occurred to me. I’m an idiot, I thought. Why wasn’t I reaching out to him through our connection?

  Owen, where are you?

  I’m coming. Just takes me a little longer is all.

  I’m nearly to our room. Are you still in there? David said we only had a minute.

  No, I was in the kitchen getting a snack. I’m nearly there.

  I doubled back and headed for the kitchen, but he was gone by the time I got there.

  Everyone’s waiting for you, Owen said, a hint of satisfaction in his voice.

  Well, if I hadn’t been chasing after you, I would’ve gotten there with Rebecca!

  Pretty sad you couldn’t keep pace with me.

  Biting my tongue as I came into the conference room, I begrudgingly took my seat next to him. I wanted to sit on the other side of the room so I could glare menacingly at him, but those seats were all taken. Once I was seated, David did a head count.

  “Good. That went faster than I expected. Next time, maybe we can actually do it in a minute or less.” He eyed me, and I looked away sheepishly. The clock on the wall told me I’d delayed everyone by about four minutes.

  Without any more preliminaries, David turned on the TV. My stomach dropped as I took in the massive chaos on the screen. The video appeared to have been taken with a camera phone, and it shook, indicating that the person making the recording was running in a crowd of people. It panned around behind, showing what the videographer was running from. The screen zoomed in on bloodied people kneeling in the street, the flesh appearing to melt from their bones. It then panned down to what remained of the videographer’s hand, and the phone fell to the ground, the screen going dark.

  “No,” I breathed. “Spain. We’re too late.”

  “Madrid to be more specific,” David answered, not taking his eyes off the screen.

  He unmuted the TV when the reporter returned. “Officials fear another attack has occurred. The victims appear to be suffering the effects of Zero, but authorities say it’s too early to make any definitive claims. The video you just saw was taken only minutes ago outside the Atocha Railway Station. Hundreds, possibly thousands, of people pass through this thoroughfare on a daily basis. As of now, officials are not speculating on a death toll.”

  “Why Madrid?” Camden asked.

  “Why not? By hitting seemingly random global cities, they’re demonstrating that no one is safe,” I said, my eyes glued to the screen. Owen reached for my hand and squeezed it, but it did nothing to dissipate the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  “But certainly there are places in Madrid that would be more effective if loss of life was their ultimate goal,” Camden persisted.

  “Agreed. Which is why I don’t think that’s at the heart of their task. No, they don’t mind making sacrifices, but their ultimate goal is power. They want to gain control through fear.” I watched as a crowd of people ran screaming from the station. “They’re going to get it too.”

  Owen spoke up, but he didn’t release my hand. “What do we know, David?”

  “We know that ISIS continues to deny their involvement. And has in fact released a statement that will be given to the media shortly.” He paged through some papers in front of him. “We at ISIS do not condone or support the use of the chemical Zero. It is nothing more than a coward’s weapon. What can be the gain of such nameless fear? Who attacks this way without explaining their purpose? Not ISIS.” He cleared his throat when he was finished.

  Owen sighed heavily. “By wrongly accusing a known terrorist group, the media may be kicking a hornet’s nest.”

  “Indeed,” David said. “But much as it grieves me to say, ISIS isn’t our biggest concern right now. It’s been just under two weeks since London, and just over a month since Coda. That’s three attacks in less than six weeks, with a total death toll of over three thousand people. And that number will climb today, I’m sure.”

  He paused for a moment to watch the chaos unfolding on the screen. “I think Mackenzie is right. The death toll is remarkably low for attacks of this scale. This is the power play they mentioned.”

  Normally, I enjoyed being right, but this didn’t give me a good feeling.

  “The Spanish M
inistry has requested reinforcements, so some members of the team based in Washington are flying overseas to help. That means a lot of headquarters’ work will fall to us and the other nationwide branches.”

  He paused, letting us absorb that. “What that means is, we will now be receiving information from Washington to sift through, rather than sending our intel to them. And I’m not afraid to tell you, after this latest attack, it will be a lot. Watch for inconsistencies or anything that seems too obvious. Find any small clues you can to connect the dots between the intel we got before the attack and what actually unfolded. This may help us identify their next move before they make it. We can’t make a mistake or a misstep with this one. Lives are at stake. Now is the time for diligence, not fear. I need all of you to double your efforts.”

  I shot a glance at Rebecca. I hoped she knew exactly how we were going to do that, because I sure didn’t. And Owen seemed utterly lost. At a time when we needed help the most, he was adrift, still trying to make his own recovery from the first attack.

  David then turned to Owen. “Owen, now that you’re on your feet again, I want you to head up the research team. You’ll be responsible for sifting through all the information we get from Washington. You’ve been with us a great deal of time, so you have a remarkable understanding for how the Potestas operate. You also know firsthand what to expect from an attack made with Zero. You’re the clear choice for this post, at least until you’re ready to be fully in the field again. I know you won’t let me down.”

  Mitchell nodded to Owen, and a few of the others clapped. Owen’s expression remained stoic. I knew he would take his new post seriously, but I could tell he was disappointed about being relegated to research for the time being. But, we were all in the same boat. Information was what we needed, not guns-blazing attacks.

  “If no one has any questions for me, let’s wrap this meeting up. Stay informed, and immediately let me know of any leads you have.”

  We all nodded, knowing that went without saying. Slowly, we filed out of the conference room, with noticeably less energy than we’d had going in. There were lives at stake, and I felt like I held every last one of them in my own hands.

  Five

  For five days straight, we all worked hard to crack the Potestas’ code in the hopes that we would be one step ahead, instead of two steps behind, when we next confronted them. My concerns about the side effect of protecting my signature were thankfully unfounded. I could keep it shrouded from invaders without concealing it from friends. Teaching the skill proved more difficult, but eventually—after what felt like an eternity to both of us—Rebecca finally got it.

  Once we had it, we perfected the long-distance connection. However, we decided it would be best to keep the number of connections down to five or less at any one time. Any more voices would be too overwhelming.

  Training my peers to create these long-distance connections was challenging in a lot of ways. For one thing, I wasn’t used to being the trainer, and patience was not my strong suit. If someone took too long, it was hard for me to continue being encouraging. Luckily for me, my peers were eager to learn our new techniques, but my work with David was awkward to be sure. Really though, what was one more strain on the dynamic between us? Employee, boss; father, daughter; and now trainer, trainee? We both tried to take it in stride, and he picked up on the technique pretty quickly. The more I worked with him, the more I found his skill to be unlike anyone else’s.

  “I wish we had more downtime, David,” I told him after we were done for the day.

  “Why’s that?” he asked casually as he prepared to leave the training room.

  “Because I’d like to pick your brain.”

  He laughed and said, “I don’t think I’d like that very much!”

  “Yes, you would. You could teach me stuff.”

  “Like what? What do you think I know that you don’t?”

  “I don’t know. That’s the point of picking your brain.”

  He patted my leg. “Soon. I have a feeling all of this will be over soon, and we’ll have all kinds of time for picking each other’s brains.”

  That felt ominous, and I didn’t say anything as he walked out.

  Meet me in David’s office, Owen said through our connection before I could stew too much about David’s comment. The urgency of his tone didn’t make me feel any better.

  “What? Couldn’t get enough of me?” David asked when I followed him into his office.

  “Owen said to meet him in here. He’s on his way.” I could tell he was uneasy, but I was as much in the dark as he was.

  Owen didn’t keep us waiting long before bursting into the office. “A man has come forward claiming he can save the world from Zero. He’s having a press conference right now. It should start any minute.”

  “What?”

  “Here.” He turned on the TV and tuned to a random news station. The man at the podium was well dressed, in a full suit and gray tie. His jet-black hair was slicked back, giving him a rather slimy appearance. My intuition immediately told me not to trust him.

  “Good evening, members of the press.” His voice was clear, deep, and seductive, making me even more leery. “I have come to you today to tell you something special. But first, let me introduce myself. My name is Agusto Masterson. I’m CEO of a lot of companies that will mean nothing to those who are not in the health care industry, and I won’t waste your time by listing them. Just know that I can and will follow through on what I’m about to promise you.”

  He looked up at the crowd and then into the cameras with startlingly green eyes. Paired with his dark hair and pale skin, it made for a striking look. I found myself feeling a bit afraid of him as he looked right through the screen and into my eyes.

  “I am going to end the threat of Zero.” Cameras flashed in his face, and members of the press barked questions at him, trying to be heard, but he held up his hand to silence them.

  “I promise you all, I will answer questions at the end. Just let me get through my speech.” Then he chuckled easily, and the audience laughed with him. I narrowed my eyes at the screen. Were they really falling for this guy’s sleazy charm?

  I wished I could read his mind through the TV screen, but that wasn’t really how it worked, at least not yet.

  “It appears that Zero is becoming a worldwide issue. The terrorists responsible are using it as a scare tactic to get what they want. They’re hiding behind it to create an escalating sense of fear, so that we will be willing to give them whatever they want when they finally do come forward. ISIS has called them cowards, and isn’t that rich? I actually think they’re geniuses. If they were allowed to continue, unchecked, who wouldn’t give them the whole world if they promised to put a stop to their attacks?”

  He looked around at the crowd of people who were giving him their rapt attention. He was purposefully using inflammatory language to grab their attention…and it was working.

  “But this puts us in a dangerous position. Would we sacrifice our finances, our weapons, our very freedom if it came down to it?” The camera panned out toward the crowd, and I could see some members of the press shaking their heads, others standing stock-still.

  “I can’t say for sure, but that uncertainty has spurred me into action. I don’t like variables. I like known quantities. Waiting to find out what these people are going to do next, hoping that they’ve had their fun and will leave us alone is too much of a variable. Here’s a known quantity for you: I promise you that I will stop those behind Zero for good.

  “Due to security measures, I can’t tell you how I plan to do it, but I can tell you why. I am an extremely selfish person. I care only about my own family. We live in a big city at the heart of this great nation—a likely target, if you ask me. Frankly, I don’t want to die. Not yet. Nor do I want any of my family members to be hurt by these lunatics.

  “After managing so many different types of people over the years, I’ve found that selfish motivations are often the mo
st productive. And believe me, this goal will be reached. Thank you.”

  David muted the TV as the press started bombarding the man with questions. “Agusto Masterson rings a bell. Why do I know that name?”

  Owen plopped a small file down on David’s desk. “This is all we could collect so far, but I’ve got the team working on it right now. Because he’s a big behind-the-scenes CEO, he has his hands in a lot of pots, including oil in the Middle East, tobacco, and health care, as he said.”

  “What?” I asked, trying to get my head around the apparent conflict of interest. “Health care and tobacco? He makes money off people smoking, and then makes money again when they’re dying from it?”

  “I suppose so, yes,” Owen said.

  “Sounds like a real winner.”

  Owen nodded at my comment, but he seemed distracted. “He has the financial resources to do what he claims. But, at least on paper, he doesn’t seem to have the connections he would need. That confuses me. His confidence concerns me. And the Potestas’ involvement in this whole mess really concerns me. Is this their move?”

  “It’s impossible to know,” David said as he flipped through Agusto’s file. “What are his connections to the Potestas?”

  “We haven’t had time to get that far.”

  “What do we have to go on, except this gut feeling we all have that he’s bad news?”

  “Not much. He’s very charismatic, and the public and press are eating him up.”

  “The Bible says the antichrist will be very charismatic. Charisma is not a reason to trust him,” I said quietly.

  Owen snorted at my comment.

  “What? I’m just saying,” I said, shrugging my shoulders.

  “I don’t think he’s the antichrist, Mackenzie,” David said flatly. “But we need to do some extensive digging. If we manage to find proof he’s bad news, we can take him out before this goes any further.”