by R J Johnson
When Alex didn’t show up at the rally point, he knew it was up to him to do something. What that was, he had no idea.
Shifting into a parrot (he’d become used to the indignity), he hung around the FBI building waiting to see if he could spot Alex, Emily or Christina being escorted inside.
He shifted back into his normal form, and looked down on the street below. Three dark Suburbans raced down the street and pulling around the corner toward the rear entrance of the FBI field office.
Scott raced to the other side of the building’s roof and watched as Alex was quickly ushered out of the rear and into the waiting vehicle.
He paced back and forth, trying to think of what Alex would do if it were him.
Likely figure out some ingenious way to slyly sneak in and take the team by surprise.
But he wasn’t Alex.
He bowed his head and for the first time in years decided to try and talk to God.
“I’m pretty sure that with the way this is all supposed to work, you already know that I left your fan club long ago. Hell, I can barely acknowledge the possibility you might exist. But if you do, and you’re willing to give a break to a guy who could really use one… well, I could really use some help right around now. I owe Alex that much. And I just can’t do it on my own. I wish I could, but please…” he cast his eyes upward, “Please, I’m just asking for the chance to make things right.”
The Old Man tapped Scott on his shoulder and Scott yelped in surprise, spinning around in a mock karate pose, ready to strike down whoever had taken him by surprise. He began to shift, but was stopped in his tracks, when the Old Man waved his hand.
“Now Scott, you don’t need to do anything as silly as that…” the Old Man said mildly.
Scott stood there, frozen in place, unable to move a single muscle. The Old Man released his fist somewhat and Scott felt the tightness around his body go slack. Scott cocked his head to the side and looked at the Old Man suspiciously.
“How do you know my name?” Scott asked, his eyes narrowing.
“Oh Scott…” The Old Man whispered quietly. “I know far too much about lots of things. With your name ranking somewhere slightly below whether or not it’s going to rain tomorrow.”
Scott looked the Old Man up and down, sizing him up.
“What do you want?”
The Old Man didn’t reply for a moment, he moved past Scott and looked over the side of the building and out over the Bay Area.
“You know,” the Old Man said finally, “first time I set eyes on the Bay, none of this was here. It was all just untouched wilderness far as the eye could see.”
“I hear the Tenderloin is still pretty wild if you’re looking to for a way to go back to the good ol’ days,” Scott said, moving forward to stand next to the Old Man.
The Old Man chuckled and shook his head. “’Fraid there’s no time for sightseeing.”
“You’re telling me,” Scott said determined. “I got my friend arrested and I got to figure out a way to get him free.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about Alex,” the Old Man chuckled. “He’ll be fine for now. In the meantime, I need to borrow you.”
Scott cocked his head, looking at the Old Man in shock. “I’m afraid I’m a bit busy.”
“Too busy to help me save the world?”
Scott stared at the Old Man standing in front of him, and looked at him as if for the first time.
“I asked you once already,” Scott said quietly, sounding frightened. “Who are you?”
“Think of me as an interested party,” the Old Man didn’t sound impatient with Scott, but as they were speaking, he had glanced more than once at the ancient timepiece sitting in his hands.
“Yeah, well…” Scott straightened his back up. “I’m only interested in helping my friends escape.”
“There’ll be time for that,” the Old Man closed the timepiece and dropped it into a pocket sewn into the side of his robes. He extended a hand out to Scott.
“Scott, please…” this time the Old Man’s voice sounded a bit scared. “I know what it’s like to be alone and need help. I can help you. We can get Alex out, but only if we’re together. I know you have no reason to trust me, but, sometimes there are things that happen in life that you must take on faith. I’m asking you to take me on faith.”
Maybe it was the sound of the desperation in the man’s voice. Maybe it was because Scott didn’t want to admit he couldn’t control this power to shapeshift alone and this man seemed to know more about the stones than anyone else they’d met so far.
Most of all, Scott knew what it was to be alone. He knew what it was to feel alone against the world after expecting to have someone at your side for the ride. He’d felt the same way after Molly had died. It would’ve been less painful had Halprin cleaved off his right arm.
The Old Man standing in front of him had a sense of familiarity. Scott couldn’t place it, but deep down inside he knew he could trust this person with his life. There was no reason for him to, but after praying to God asking for help, who was he to turn it down? That’d be rude.
He extended his hand out to the Old Man and the pair disappeared in a flash.
Chapter Sixty
Geoffrey Tate hadn't been able to do much besides answer the phones with a curt ‘no comment’ over the last day and a half. With Kline out looking for another stone in Europe, the business of MARS Industries had fallen to him. The series of terrorist attacks and the European Headquarters being destroyed had MARS Security in disarray. The fact Kline had remained off the radar was only complicating things for their executives.
And despite all that, Kline still expected him to pull off a miracle to find Alex and his stones.
Sources inside the FBI had alerted him to the fact that they’d managed to capture Alex McCray and wanted to know what they wanted them to do with him. Tate knew if MARS Industries didn’t act fast, they’d miss out on Alex’s stones and they’d be packed away in some government warehouse to be examined by top men.
The real surprise was learning that Alex had been taken in by the FBI. After watching the former military man slip through his (and his bosses’ fingers Tate reminded himself) more than once, he was beginning to think that Alex’s stone made him more than just invincible to bullets.
To know that the Feds had gotten the drop on Alex before he had, irritated him, but that was no matter. He had his orders. The stones were what mattered. Nothing else.
But unfortunately, as he watched from a distance as the FBI and Homeland Security swirled all over the building containing Alex and Emily, the less confident he felt on his ability to get the stones back from the Feds. This was not something his contacts could handle. Right now, Alex might as well have been in another country.
He knew when he was beat. Getting McCray would take Kline and his stones.
He took out the cell phone and dialed a number. After a few moments, the satellite connected and he heard the sound of Kline picking up the phone.
“Do you have my stones?” the voice hissed once the connection was made.
“The Feds got to McCray before I could,” Tate said, his voice sounding reedy and thin. This was not the thing he wanted to say to his boss. But, the fact was, if Kline wanted these stones, he’d need to get them himself.
“Where are they?” Kline asked.
“They’re in San Francisco, in the FBI’s custody. I’m outside their building now waiting to see if they take McCray somewhere else,” Tate said quickly. “Sir, if we had…”
No sooner than he’d said something, a light flashed and Kline appeared next to him. Tate, jumped back in surprise seeing his boss arrive out of nowhere.
The surprise of his boss suddenly appearing however, was nothing compared to the condition he appeared in. Tate recoiled in shock and horror seeing the various wounds and lacerations Kline had taken in his pursuit of another set of stones. He glanced down at Kline’s arm in horror, seeing it had been completely changed into
granite stone.
Tate swallowed, “How was Germany?”
“Productive!” Kline said with relish. He looked across the street at the FBI’s headquarters in San Francisco. “You’re sure he’s in there.”
“Positive.” Tate said.
“Then why don’t I detect the stones?”
Tate swallowed and shook his head. “All I know is that’s where they put Alex and Emily.”
Kline grunted and sighed, shaking his head. “No matter, I hold almost half the stones now. McCray can’t possibly stop me now.”
The entrance to the FBI’s garage opened and three black Suburbans, exited quickly, sparks flying up from the undercarriage as they turned onto the street.
Kline watched them go and leaned forward, “I have a feeling our good Mr. McCray is within those.”
“How do you…?” Tate began to question him, but remembered the stones. Who knew what the man could accomplish now?
“Follow them,” Kline urged. “They lead us to my destiny.”
Tate nodded and put his rental car in gear, following the dark tinted vehicles from a safe distance. If he had a chance to take out McCray he wanted to be the one to do it.
And nothing, not even the combined force of the United States government would stop him.
Chapter Sixty-One
The ride to Moffat field didn’t take long from the FBI field office. Instead of transporting him out by helicopter to the nearest holding facility, Ash had used his influence to isolate Alex from the rest of the Alphabet Soup gang of Feds who all wanted their piece of the terrorist responsible for so much damage across California.
The net the Feds had thrown over the state had shut down the three major cities along the coast and much of the interior of the state currently had National Guardsmen and tanks patrolling the streets. It had been the most intense field response mounted by Homeland Security since its inception.
Alex watched the line of non-descript Suburbans line the runway leading to the private jet that would likely take him for a long stay in Guantanamo.
The Agent sitting next to him pulled him out none-to-gently as Alex looked around the field. The sun was setting out on the horizon and he held up his cuffed hands to shield his eyes from the light.
Ash got out of the front seat of the Suburban ahead of his and opened the door behind him. Emily stumbled out looking disoriented. Even though he should’ve been angry with her, he wasn’t. To be honest, he hadn’t been so sure that he deserved to hang onto the stones either. In perfect fashion, she’d just done what she thought was right.
At least that’s what he was telling himself.
“Another beautiful California sunset…” Ash said, bringing Emily over to Alex who refused to look him in the eyes. Ash held onto her arm and nodded to the distant hills. “Best take a good look at it all kid, it’s going to be your last one.”
“Go fuck yourself Ash.” Alex growled. After all this time, why’d it have to be this asshole who took him out?
“You know what I’m really interested in?” Ash asked, leaning in closer to Alex’s face. “I’ve always wanted to know how you managed to steal all that money from my secure facility. You didn’t even know where it was, let alone how the hell a tomato can like you managed to kill a half-dozen highly trained SAS.”
“I’m chock-full of surprises…” Alex replied sullenly. “Besides, you always liked the fact I was a man of mystery.”
“True enough,” Ash nodded thoughtfully. He reached back and slammed his meaty fist into Alex’s face. Alex went down like a sack of potatoes and Emily screamed in protest as a few of the nearby agents moved to stop Ash from kicking him again. Ash shrugged the Feds off, pushing them back.
“Enough!” Ash commanded. “Get ‘em on the plane. I don’t want them seeing daylight until they’re in Cuba.”
A black hood was pulled down roughly on Alex’s head. Emily cried out as one was applied to her as well.
“Where’s Christina you son of a bitch!” Emily screamed. “I want a lawyer!”
“Lawyers won’t help you now my dear,” Ash intoned. “And don’t worry about your friend Christina, she’ll be joining you shortly.”
“You fool!” Emily screamed through the hood. “You’re going to kill us all!”
Alex felt his feet lift off the ground as a pair of agents grabbed him by the arms and pulled him roughly up and into the waiting Jetstream. He heard Emily struggling with her own pair of agents and hoped she didn’t try to do anything too stupid. They’d just as soon cut a suspected terrorist like Emily down in a hail of bullets rather than have her face trial.
“I’m staying behind,” Ash said to the FBI Agent in Charge. “You’ll make sure he gets where he needs to go?”
“Without question,” the AIC replied quickly. “Six hours.”
“I look forward to your call after you’ve confirmed their intake,” Ash ordered.
The AIC nodded quickly and bounded up the stairs, following Alex and Emily into the Jetstream. Ash trotted over to a waiting helicopter and got in.
Alex was pushed into a seat, and Emily strapped in next to him. He heard the cabin door close and the engines spool up. He felt his stomach sink.
How the hell was he going to get them out of this one? Where was Scott?
Chapter Sixty-Two
After the day they’d had, Alex wanted nothing more than to just sleep away the pain. But, where he was going, it wasn’t likely they’d let him get a lot of sleep. Besides, the agents on the plane were celebrating his capture and by the smell of it, someone had broken out a bottle of scotch. The raucous laughter was making it especially difficult for him to sleep.
But none of that compared to the discomfort provided by the thick black cloth covering his head. The last few hours, he’d been forced to stare at the tiny dots of light filtering through the hood. The hood was nothing more than a formality. There wasn’t anything secret about where they were taking him. They were just making the ride there as uncomfortable as possible.
They’d been flying for a good four hours by now and by Alex’s reckoning were likely somewhere over the Texas panhandle. He hated Texas. Always had.
He heard Emily shift in her seat and whimper slightly as she held back the tears. Some small part of Alex felt good that she was uncomfortable in revenge for her turning him in, but quickly squashed that. That type of thinking would get them nowhere.
Alex waited until he could hear the agents laughing loudly and took a chance to whisper to Emily.
“Are you okay?” he asked in a low tone.
She was silent for a moment and was about to repeat his question thinking she hadn’t heard him when she replied.
“I’m so sorry Alex,” she whispered frantically. “I had no idea the kind of monster that man was.”
“Neither did I, if it makes you feel any better,” Alex said ruefully. “Ash has been trying to find me for the last two years. He’d say or do anything to get his money back…”
“He’s the man you stole the money with?” Emily was shocked at the revelation.
“He’s the only asshole out there bigger than me,” Alex confirmed.
“Then you can cut us a deal!” Emily asked, sounding desperate. “Tell them where the money is and maybe you can get us out of Guantanamo.”
“No chance,” Alex said through the hood. “Ash never really left the service like I did. He’s got so much influence with the NRO, he’d know the second the FBI guys did. After we took the money, we weren’t allowed to spend it, so in order to make some cash to live, we formed up as a team to run off the book ops.”
He sighed, knowing how completely boxed in he was at the moment. “No one would believe me if I told them we’d stolen the money. They’ve written it off long ago. My guess it doesn’t exist so far as anyone is concerned. Even if I did point to where the money was, I can’t guarantee Ash wouldn’t intercept the intelligence and grab it all for himself. And when the FBI went to check my story, all they’d find wa
s an empty storage locker.”
Emily sat there for a moment absorbing Alex’s logic. She knew he was right. The second he even tried to double cross Ash, the man would know about it.
Alex shook his head. “No, I’ll play that card when I don’t have any others left. Until then…” he fell silent as one of the guards moved past them and toward the bathroom at the rear of the plane. “Until then, we wait.”
“For what?” she asked desperately. “I know you’re used to this whole waiting-to-die thing, but I’m not. I need to know we’re going to survive this.”
He felt her move her handcuffed hands over to his. “Tell me we’re going to live through this.”
Alex was silent, but only for a moment. He never wanted to lie to Emily, but this was one of those situations that ranked up there with dangerous questions like ‘Do I look fat in this?’
“Who are you talking to?” Alex said, hoping she could hear his smile through their respective hoods. “They’ve tried to kill me at least a dozen times over the last few days. I like to think I’ve proven we can survive just about anything.”
She didn’t respond, but his reassurances seemed to satisfy her for a moment.
At least, right until their Jetstream was yanked to the side, as it went into a violent spin. The cabin of the airplane bucking wildly, Alex felt himself thrown as alarms and shouts of confusion began to reign chaos inside.
Alex let go of Emily’s hand and began to do his best to pull the hood off his head. After a moment of fiddling with the drawstrings, he pulled it off to see what was happening.
The cabin was tilted down as the Jetstream plummeted in an uncontrollable dive from its cruising altitude of 30,000 feet.
