Zero Hour (Wealth of Time Series, Book 5)

by Andre Gonzalez

  “I know, but you need to get as far away from Denver as you can. I suggest you rent a car and just drive. They’ll be out looking for you by nightfall. Be careful out there – the world is a dangerous place outside of the big cities, especially at night. Try to get your travel done during the day, hop city to city, maybe head to the east coast. New York City is plenty busy for you to hide.”

  Steve kept talking faster with each word, sparking a wave of urgency as Sonya tried to follow along.

  “New York?” she asked. “Is it that serious, you think?”

  Steve nodded frantically. “Your dad is feeling the pressure of having Briar in charge of the Road Runners. The thought of a Warm Soul calling the shots has sent him into quite the frenzy. He feels he has to end the Road Runners first, or they’ll end him. He’s desperate and will do anything to stay in control—even use you as bait.”

  Sonya shook her head. It all sounded made up, but she also had no problem believing any of it. She knew her father was a living monster void of compassion.

  “When do you think I can come back? Will he search for me all the way in New York?”

  “I think he’ll search everywhere, especially since he knows you’re stuck in this year. Do you have any friends who can maybe take you to a different year?”

  Sonya shrugged. Her only friends were old Road Runners—no one she had spoken with since Martin’s half-hearted attempt at killing her in 1996. She had kept a low profile since living in the future, too, not wanting to accidentally expose herself to any potential Road Runners working undercover, waiting for the opportunity to take her life.

  “I have no one,” she said, dropping her head.

  “I wish I could help, but you know Chris will be looking into everyone closest to you to check for any trips through time.”

  “I know. You’ll be one of the first he checks.”

  “You need to get out of here,” Steve said. “Because once they realize you’re not coming home tonight, they may close the city—it’s that important for Chris.”

  “Understood,” Sonya said, a tear trickling down her face. “Thank you so much, Steve. I don’t how to ever repay you for saving me like this.”

  Steve raised a calming hand. “No need. I’m just doing the right thing. No need for you to get tangled in your father’s affairs when you’re just trying to live in peace. I wish you the best of luck and will be praying for your safety. Go, and don’t look back.”

  Sonya threw her arms around Steve, embracing him for a second, noting the fresh smell of cologne on his jacket. He patted her back and she left without another word, suddenly thrust into a whole new life, survival still her daily goal.

  10

  Chapter 10

  Martin stared into the camera and took a deep breath. It was his first time using the broadcast system that had been installed in his new office. Soon his face would show across devices all around the continent, Road Runners awaiting a much-needed update. He and Gerald had tinkered around with the streaming software, using a quick practice run to ensure they both understood how to use it.

  “You ready?” Gerald asked, settling into his seat out of the camera’s range.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be,” Martin said. “Here’s to hoping they don’t storm the building and drag me out.”

  Gerald chuckled, but Martin wasn’t joking. His relationship with the public had already grown tense as of late, prompting him to address the organization to speak for himself, rather than letting rumors define him.

  Martin cleared his throat as he clicked to start the live stream, beginning the thirty-second countdown that preceded. Memories from his trip to the future flashed in his mind, mainly the grim reality of what society would one day become. Unless everyone worked together to save themselves.

  The countdown ended and Martin had the organization’s complete attention.

  “Good evening, fellow Road Runners. This is my first address to the organization, and I want to start by formally introducing myself. I am Commander Martin Briar, and I come to you today to discuss the recent happenings and our plans moving forward.”

  His arms had been shaking behind the podium, but settled once he was into the thick of his speech.

  “The first topic tonight is regarding the attacks on our Las Vegas hotel. Initial investigations have concluded that the attacks were carried out by the Revolution, in combination with the Liberation. As you may have seen in some early news coverage, fires were set on every floor of the building, in the hallways, to provide a distraction and keep people trapped in their rooms. The collapse of the building was due to explosives planted around the hotel. They also drove a double-decker bus into the hotel’s main entrance to ensure that people remained trapped inside. This was a deliberate and planned attack that likely took months to prepare. We have no confirmed survivors. This act of terrorism by the Revolution will not be tolerated. My team and I are working every single moment to devise the best plan for retaliation.

  “We are down, we are hurt, but do not count us done. For years we’ve dealt with the Revolution hunting our members, always trying to strike fear into our hearts. I ask you to not live in fear. Be cautious and alert, yes, but there’s no need to hide in your homes. We still have a strong organization that can achieve big things, and it’s up to all of us members to contribute where we can. There is no better time than now to get involved with your local chapters. There is so much you can do that doesn’t involve you risking your life in combat. Something big is coming to the Revolution, and while I can’t share the details of our plans, please trust we have the best minds working on it.

  “My second item today is to make a call to our Council members. Wherever you are, we need you. I have no intent on passing laws and making decisions on my own. The Council serves as our checks and balances, and has always been a steady presence. I completely understand your reasons for going into hiding, but it’s time to get back to work. You’re not doing anyone any favors by remaining in isolation. Consider this my official call to you. I’ll give you one week to meet with me in my office. If I don’t hear from you, I will begin the process for finding replacement Councilors.

  “This is not something to take lightly. The Council has long been a collective footprint of past commanders, each one getting to leave a stamp of their legacy on us. If you fail to show up, you’ll be entrusting one commander to make decisions that will heavily impact the organization for decades to come. I am no dictator—I have no interest in doing such a thing, but I’m left with no choice should you decide to remain in hiding. We need a fully functioning organization if we ever plan to recover from these dark times. Now is not the time to roll over, but to stand up and accomplish something. I hope to hear from all current Council members regarding their intentions.”

  Martin paused for a moment to take a gulp of water, his throat parched, before concluding the speech.

  “The final topic I want to address is the talk of a recall vote. I completely respect your rights as members to gather signatures, but as a fellow Road Runner I must ask: why are you doing this? You’ve not even given me a chance to implement changes. I have plans to end this war and save the future, but these things take time. I have a two-year term voted on by the majority of our membership. Had I done something wrong, I’d have no arguments against this, but bear in mind that these attacks in Vegas would have happened regardless of who was in charge. Like I mentioned, they had been planning that for several months, well before I even announced my candidacy.”

  Martin drew his focus to the center of the camera lens, staring into its soul.

  “And Chris Speidel, if you’re watching like I know you probably are: your days are limited. You don’t get to terrorize our people and hide like a coward. You will be punished for your actions. We’re coming for you and you know there’s nothing you can do to stop me, in particular. I’m not afraid of you or your goons. I’ve been in your mansion. I suggest you enjoy your final days on this planet because it doesn�
�t end well for you.

  “As for everyone else, thank you for your time this evening. I am very much looking forward to working on this recovery effort for our fine organization. Thank you.”

  Martin nodded to the camera before cutting off the feed.

  “How was it?” he asked Gerald.

  “Impressive. I didn’t think you were actually going to mention the recall vote. Risky, but I think your words will resonate with a lot of our members.”

  “I guess we’ll see if that helps kill the momentum—that’s all I’m worried about now.”

  “I think blowing up Chris’s mansion will end any of that talk. People just want action. The timing is unfortunate with the Vegas attacks, the whole mess was sort of dumped on you, but you can recover.”

  Martin had a phone call with Tony earlier in the week. Even though the campaign was over, Tony still had a wealth of knowledge on the political side of the Road Runners. Tony assured him that the recall vote was a lost cause without an active Council, and even if the votes passed once there was a Council, they would find no justifiable reason to remove him from the commandership.

  “I’ll be okay. I think you and I really need to focus on shutting out the noise. If people want to talk about recalling me, or just bash me for fun, they can do so—nothing’s going to happen, so I don’t care.”

  “You’re still going to keep increased security, right?”

  “Of course. Chris will be trying to capture me at some point during my term—that much is inevitable. I’m more worried about him than any Road Runners trying to harm me.”

  “Still need to be careful. Some of our own have left to join the Liberation, and it’s mainly the ones who were upset by your victory. If someone no longer feels tied to the Road Runners, they may not be concerned about their ethics.”

  “I’m always careful, ever since Sonya tricked me. Nothing to worry about on my end.”

  “Good. We’re about two weeks from planting the bombs. We found a spot a quarter-mile away from the mansion and have begun digging. My inbox was flooded after calling for volunteers on this project. People are really excited. We have a crew of almost 200 working around the clock and rotating shifts to keep constant progress.”

  “And there’s no chance of being spotted?”

  “None at all. Our entry is out of sight from the mansion and its cameras, and we’ve set up a campsite even further. We did spot some of Chris’s guards in town and decided to not run the risk of staying in the one hotel—not that it would fit all of us anyway. They’re digging almost one hundred feet per day. Keep in mind, it’s not some massive tunnel we’re building, just something big enough to walk through. It will run to all four corners of the house and along its sides. It’s quite slick how we have it planned.”

  “Thank you for giving this all of your attention, and for flying back and forth to make sure it’s going well. Have you given any thought to staying in Alaska for an extended time?”

  “Not yet.” Gerald had already made three trips to Barrow and back, citing a need to assist Martin in Denver until structure was restored within the organization.

  Martin nodded. He wanted Gerald nowhere near the site once the bombs were planted. They expected instant retaliation, assuming Chris didn’t get pinned underneath any rubble. The whole scene could unfold in pure violence, but Martin would wait to tell Gerald he needed to leave before the bombs were detonated. Perhaps he could watch from the sky if they timed his exit flight just right.

  Either way, their main plan was officially in motion, a hopeful end to Chris Speidel’s reign of terror now in sight.

  11

  Chapter 11

  Two days later, Martin buckled down on creating a list of potential new Council members, nearly all of them recommended by Gerald or others he trusted within the Denver office. He had met plenty of people during his campaign travels, but lacked the knowledge on whether or not they would be a good fit for the lifetime role.

  Every member of the organization kept a public profile that shared all of the missions they had worked on, how long they’ve been with the Road Runners, and what horrific incident they had to endure from Chris in exchange for their bottles of Juice.

  With a list of one hundred potential candidates, Martin had plenty of profiles to sift through, high hopes of weeding the list down to at least twenty finalists to choose from.

  It had been thirty-six hours since he delivered his televised message, and still not a word from any of the past Council members. He was about to call it quits on all of them right before his office administrator knocked on the door.

  “Commander Briar, Chief Councilman Uribe and Councilwoman Murray are here to meet with you.”

  “What?! Both of them?” Martin gasped, jumping out of his seat, and dashing out of his office to find the two Councilors waiting with suitcases by their sides.

  Thank God, Martin thought. They could have shown up to tender their official resignations, but the suitcases suggested otherwise. And they just happened to be the two most senior members, putting the Council instantly back into strong, trusted leadership.

  “I am so happy to see you two,” Martin said as he shook their hands. “Please come into my office and let’s talk.”

  They greeted Martin and looked around the bullpen full of Road Runners staring at them like they had risen from the dead.

  Once in the office, Councilman Uribe took the seat across from Martin while Murray insisted on the couch.

  “I take it you got my message,” Martin said as he sat. “Are you guys okay? Where have you been?”

  “We did see your message, and thank you for it,” Uribe said. “We’ve been hiding ever since that night. Funny how everything seemed to spiral out of control at the same time. Had it just been the attempted attacks on our chambers, we likely would have resurfaced after a week or so once the chaos died down, but that never happened. It just kept snowballing out of control. The decision to not rescue Strike definitely struck a nerve with the wrong people.”

  Uribe clasped his hands and leaned back, an elderly man with a life full of wisdom residing behind his eyes.

  “And what about you, Councilwoman?” Martin asked, turning his attention to the couch.

  “I’ve had more exciting days, that’s for sure,” she said. “But I can’t complain too much—it was a break from the chambers that I think we all needed.”

  “Is there anyone else coming?” Martin asked.

  Uribe looked over his shoulder at Murray before speaking. “It’s just us,” he said flatly. “We spent yesterday getting in touch with the others. They all feel it’s still too dangerous to resume our work, even though I assured them of the heightened security and remote offices.”

  “Christ,” Martin said, rubbing his forehead. “So we’re five short.”

  “Don’t worry,” Uribe said. “We are here to assist with this process. You get to choose your candidates, we swear them in and show them the ropes. If you want any advice on who to choose, we can assist there as well—but don’t feel like you need to check with us.”

  “Anything you need,” Murray added. “Just say the word.”

  “I appreciate that,” Martin said. “I’ve actually been working on a list of potential replacements and am in the final stages. At this point, I think we’ll be ready to move forward next week—just need to conduct some formal interviews to make sure they are all good fits.”

  “Are you going to tip the Council in your favor?” Uribe asked, stroking his chin.

  Martin frowned. “How do you mean?”

  “Don’t play dumb, Commander. We see the news, and we know there’s a lot of people interested in recalling you. With five open seats, you can fill the Council with a majority of members who believe the same exact things as you. Quite frankly, I think it would be irresponsible for you to do anything else.”

  Martin looked to Murray for reassurance, and she nodded in return. “You can guarantee yourself a peaceful term.”

 
“Well, I’ve certainly considered it, but didn’t want to ruffle any feathers by doing so.”

  Uribe let out a hoarse laugh. “The feathers are already ruffled, Commander. This will just be your way of ensuring it doesn’t escalate any more beyond that. I hate to say it, but you’re probably the most hated commander in our history, and it has nothing to do with you. We’ve never been so divided as an organization, never seen so much tension. I don’t honestly recall a commander ever being so despised. Can you think of anyone, Councilwoman?”

  Murray pursed her lips and shook her head. “No, this is a first. Our greatest fear was becoming political, but that’s what has already unfolded once Strike was captured. Even through the worst of times in our past, we were all in it together, so there was never blame to pass around. Our organization has always moved slowly, but forward, and that’s the best way to maintain a peaceful membership. The whole Strike matter simply threw a wrench into that steady machine and caused unprecedented chaos and split-second decisions. The blame, unfortunately, falls upon you, more so because you were the one spared for Strike.”

  “Would you actually vote on removing me?”

  Uribe chuckled again. “You haven’t done anything. There has never been a recall vote—as I mentioned, purely times of peace. Whatever these people are griping about has no relevance. A recall vote would need to be about your actions as commander, not some grudge about your life before then.”

  “That’s comforting,” Martin said, leaning back in his chair as he planted a fist below his chin. “Do you think we’ll ever be back to normal?”

  “Of course things will go back to normal,” Murray said, standing from the couch for the first time. “What we consider normal is what will change. After these Vegas attacks, nothing will ever be how it was before. We’ll have a more diligent membership because of it, less trust, less desire to be in public places. The organization will have to adjust, host more meetings online and things of that nature.”