Cloud Rebel: R-D 3 (24 page)

I agree completely, my friend
, I said.
They have lied to us from the beginning, and I worry that tonight the attack may commence
.

Tread carefully, then
, Val said.
Do not risk your life. I understand you feel responsible for getting Jennifer and Brett away if things go badly, and that is why you remain where you are. You must protect yourself, too. You are important, in ways you cannot begin to fathom
.

I took a moment to process his words. I had no ready reply for them, after all.
Take care of Corinne
, I said. If I'd spoken aloud, my voice would have been thick with emotion.

I intend to do so
, he acknowledged.
When she wakes, we will continue our search for Keef. If his timeline ends here and now, things will not go well in the future
.

Does this mean the odds are against us?
I asked.

The odds are certainly against us. I worry that desperate measures will be considered, merely to salvage what we can
.

Will you ask Corinne to contact me when she wakes?

I will.

Thank you
.

* * *

Personal Notes-Dr. Richard Farrell

If Corinne had left any useful drug behind, I'd have retrieved it. The original attack had been postponed, at least-after Sarin was dumped on major European cities, resulting in countless deaths.

Yet Granville wanted to send Jen into that hellhole with a Phillips clone. Yes, I often called her Maye in my mind, and a part of me understood how wrong that was. It no longer mattered what her name was-she was everything to me and merely a pawn marked for death by the idiot occupying the White House.

Granville had separated us, too-I no longer had access. Jealousy ate at me-was she sleeping with that bastard, Brett? Her phone and other methods of communication were turned off-likely at Granville's direction.

Yes, he was at the bottom of all my concerns. I no longer cared that he was President. If anything happened to her, I couldn't predict my actions afterward.

Chapter 14

Notes-Colonel Hunter

"You're saying there was some sort of antidetection device on those drones? That nothing we have could detect them? Where did that technology come from? Somebody's ass?" the President shouted.

Matt and I sat in a meeting with the President and the Joint Chiefs, where blame-laying and finger-pointing prevailed and sensible discussion hadn't been invited.

I understood quickly that the President didn't want to hear what Matt and I had to say-he wanted to mire himself in mundane, Earthly excuses for the attacks instead of considering where they'd likely originated.

The presence of technology that had nothing to do with what could currently be produced on our planet failed to interest him.

"Right now, it doesn't matter where it came from," Navy pointed out. "What we have to do is a study to determine how to prevent an attack here."

"How long do you think that study will take?" Air Force broke in. "Months? We don't have months. Hell, we may not have hours, the way things look to me."

"I say we go in and bomb the hell out of Iraq and Syria to put an end to this once and for all," Army snapped.

"Because that's your answer for everything," Marines countered. "You just want to make a mess that my boys will have to clean up."

"I've already got my people watching the coastline for suspicious or unusual activity," Coast Guard said. "It's the best I could do with the limited time I've had."

"That's the best thing I've heard so far in this meeting," Matt said. "What are the rest of you doing-or plan to do? I'm coordinating with Homeland, the FBI and state officials across the country. They're looking for any unusual activity, now. They could probably use some help, too."

"Mr. President, the country is waiting for you to make a statement," I said during the ensuing lull.

"Yeah-I'll get to that," he waved off my suggestion.

I watched Matt rub his forehead-the country was terrified and the President was having a psychotic episode. A perfect pairing for chaos. "I've had requests for interviews," I added. "I can't do that without official word from the White House as to the plans put in place to combat this potential menace."

"Just tell them we're employing every resource to keep the country safe," the President mumbled.

"Mr. President, those journalists will want specifics," Matt tapped a finger on the table. "They want us to spell out exactly what we intend to do to keep the people safe. You have resources in this room that can help with that. They're just waiting for you to tell them what you want to do."

"Put together a plan of action. All of you. Meet me here tomorrow at the same time. We'll hammer out something then." I watched as the President rose from his chair, forcing the rest of us to our feet. He walked out, leaving us to glance warily at our neighbors.

The leader of our country was disintegrating before our eyes.

"Well," Coast Guard sighed, "this is my question. What would Amelia Sanders do?"

"She'd call Corinne," Matt said cryptically.

I jerked my head in a nod.

* * *

Corinne

The world hadn't improved any while I slept. When Val woke me, I had a request to contact Ilya, a request to contact Auggie and Matt, Keef was still missing and everybody on the planet was waiting for a press conference from the White House, which still hadn't happened. Meanwhile, hundreds of thousands were still just as dead across Europe.

"Cori, what are we gonna do?" James whispered as I shuffled into the villa's kitchen. Gerrett, who stood nearby, nodded a greeting to me.

"Honeys," I went to pull both into a hug. "We'll try to sort this out, okay?" I leaned away and peered into both faces. "Because we have to."

"I hear this," Bekzi agreed as he walked past, carrying two bags of groceries. "You sit, we cook."

It was then I realized that lunchtime the following day had arrived, while I'd slept nearly round the clock.

Ilya?
I sent.

I am here. We are on for tonight-the President retired early last evening
, he said.

Thank goodness
, I replied.
I just woke up and nothing is better
, I added.

I know. If they didn't have me under surveillance every moment, I'd get away for a short visit
.

Yeah.
I raked hair away from my face, only then considering my appearance
. Do you know how Brett and Jen are?

They're keeping us apart
, he said,
so I cannot say for sure. They're probably worried we'll conspire to escape. I confess; that has crossed my mind many times
.

I understand. Do they not even allow you to eat together?
A mental hmmph met my question.
I guess that's a no, then
, I said.

Correct. It concerns me that the President has become so paranoid
, he added.

I think Leo can add a full list of psychological disorders behind that one
, I said, my sending dry.
Hold on, I'll
Look
to check on Brett and Jen-okay, got it
, I said as the information came.
Brett is feeling like a caged wolf-no surprise. Jen is concerned over the lack of communication, and she's working on crossword puzzles-somebody gave her a book of those and a pen
.

At least one of us can be distracted, then. Tell me what else is happening
.

I told him what I knew, which really wasn't much. He considered each piece as it dropped into the puzzle we'd been given. There were still far too many blank spaces to hazard a guess at the full picture.

The President is destroying his chances for the next election
, Ilya pointed out when I explained about the lack of information and cooperation from the White House.

If he were completely sane, he might be worried about that now
, I responded.
As it is, I think we whizzed by that stop long ago
.
He was worried once, but I think he's sunk too far into revenge and self-preservation at this point
.
You know, I miss the good old days when all I had to worry about was Becker shoving me into the mud
.

I should have killed him for that
, Ilya said.
I wanted to
.

Well, he and all his clone buddies are dead. Not our problem now
, I said.

True. We merely have a much larger, more troubling set of problems.

Yeah
.
Look, I need to call Auggie. Let me know how things progress
.

I will. I miss you, Cabbage.

I miss you, too
.

* * *

Notes-Colonel Hunter

"He said I wasn't welcome on American soil," Corinne said. "This tile was made in China." I watched as she pointed to the floor of my office. Instead of calling me, she'd come herself-and Valegar with her.

I didn't blame her for leaving James in Italy, where he was guarded by a watchful Bekzi. She was right all along-Bekzi deserved all the medals I could throw at him for staying the course and keeping people safe.

"I'm not surprised the tile is Chinese," I sighed. "The President is delusional," I added.

"I know."

"I don't know what to do about it," I said. "We're supposed to hand him an action plan in a meeting this afternoon. Matt and I worked ours out together, but the others," I shrugged. "So far, only the Coast Guard has really done anything useful."

"Look, if they have a way to transport that stuff around that doesn't involve the usual methods," she said, "then even going house to house, looking for terror cells won't help. They can pick a spot, land there, release their drones and zip out again. Easy."

"Cori, please don't muck up my plan with your confounded relevance and common sense," I muttered. "The President doesn't want to hear about extraterrestrial involvement. He wants this to have originated here-on this planet."

"Because he has no way to combat the unknown," Valegar offered. "He has also alienated anyone who could help with it."

"You and Corinne." My words were flat. They sounded dead, even to my own ears.

"Auggie-we're at a tipping point," Corinne warned. "If a few more things go wrong, then everything could be destroyed."

Somehow, I got the idea that she wasn't just talking about Earth anymore. She was talking about
everything
everything.

Yes, I'd fallen into the two-word, repetitive explanation category. It did nothing to improve my mood-or increase the effectiveness of the proposal Matt and I had put together for the President.

"Auggie, it doesn't matter," Corinne said. "Just-do the best you can, okay? We have things to do, so let's hope that the nut-jobs behind this aren't ready to attack the U.S. yet. I'm worried they may have something worse up their sleeve."

"Cori, you can't get much worse than this," I smacked a hand on my desk.

"Colonel Hunter, I assume you understand how foolish that statement could become," Valegar warned. "We will keep in touch."

I stared-for a long time-at the empty space where he and Corinne had stood, giving me a warning that the apocalypse was about to happen.

Some people would be disappointed that zombies didn't appear to be involved.

Frankly, I was grateful we didn't have rotting corpses to combat while we dealt with everything else.

* * *

Corinne

"Val, what is the weight of everything in the universe?" I asked.

"All of them?" he countered.

"Never mind," I waved a hand. "I merely wanted to know how much we were carrying around, that's all."

"Dearest, let us concentrate on the immediate problem. We can discuss weights and measures at a later time."

"What was it Auggie said about relevance and common sense?"

"It applies," he nodded. "Shall we begin our search again for Director Keef?"

"I should have sent his snaky ass back to Wyyld when I had the chance," I muttered. "We wouldn't be hunting him now if I had."

"We cannot always foresee when things will take an errant turn," he advised. "We are hunting him now-to save him. This is more than any other Larentii has been allowed to do since the beginning."

* * *

Personal Record

Lendill Schaff

Norian attempted to fight our kidnappers every time he was allowed to wake. As a result, he was covered in cuts and bruises, and likely still had internal damage from the pistol blast that sleeping hadn't cured.

I watched as his head lolled toward me now; we sat against a rough wall in a hunting cabin-that's how the Lyristolyi referred to it, anyway. "They won't kill us here," I hissed as he blinked at me.

I was surprised he could still open his eyes; the bruising around them was so severe. "They don't want anyone hunting them after this, you can count on it," I added. "We'll die elsewhere, or at least that's their plan. Stop fighting, get your strength back and we'll get out of this mess eventually."

I was hoping to already be out of it, if truth be told. I had no idea why Father would leave me in such a way-unless something prevented him from knowing I'd been captured. I attempted to sort out that conundrum. After all, my father was the one person who could find just about anything, if he put his mind and talent to it.

"Your breakfast," one of our captors walked into the room, set a plate of food on the floor and slid it toward us. They'd started this tactic the day before, when Norian almost gained the strength to change.

Until this mission, I'd never guessed he was a shapeshifter.

Many things made sense, now, but I couldn't dwell on those unraveled mysteries-I had to form a plan of escape, knowing that Norian would be able to escape with me. With a hand still chained to the wall, I gripped the edge of the plate and drew it toward me.

I'd studied shapeshifters when I was young-my father had seen to that. I understood their elevated metabolism. Norian needed most of what they'd given us; I intended to see that he got it.

* * *

It had become Morrett's duty to empty the slop bucket. He understood that going in after meals was the proper time to do so-he felt less afraid, then.

Only one of the men used the bucket; the one his masters had shot and beaten after he'd become a large snake and bitten two, killing them quickly. Morrett had no words to explain to Fisk that the other man-the one with deeper eyes and paler hair-didn't need the bucket.

Immortal
whispered in Morrett's mind. He only knew that because he'd read it somewhere-his mother certainly hadn't taught him anything. His captors weren't immortal, however. Yes, they resembled what he could become when enraged, but the resemblance stopped there. Somewhere in the timeline, they may have been related.