part0037

Two of the thugs tossed Daniel into a compartment at the rear of the military transport vehicle. He landed on his shoulder, with pain shooting into his neck. A metal door slammed, enclosing him in darkness.

Daniel moaned, twisting his arms to relieve the pressure on his wrists from the tie straps. He tasted blood, feeling with his tongue to find the source, a split lower lip.

A hand touched his face, long fingernails lightly scratching against his ear.

“Jacquelyn?” He couldn’t see a thing.

“I’m here,” she answered. “Are you hurt?”

“Not bad. You?”

“My arm hurts, but I’ll manage.”

The engine started, and the vehicle turned a corner and accelerated. Daniel lifted his head to search for any signs of light. Nothing. They were probably inside a storage compartment. It smelled of rubber tires. He could hear the muffled sounds of the enforcers speaking. One man laughed.

“I’m scared,” she said, tears in her voice. “I’ve seen what enforcers do to people.”

“If they wanted us dead, they would have already done it.”

“Nobody stops them. They’re animals.” She sobbed quietly.

She was likely worried about more than just death. Beatings, broken bones, rape. All possible. Wild animals out of control seemed to fit the description for these Neanderthals. While it was unlikely that the Committee wanted him dead, their captors had sprayed bullets haphazardly.

“Wherever they’re taking us, there will be someone higher up in command. We’ll do better there. I can use my conversation with Father to our advantage.” It might not have been much comfort, but it was all he had.

The Committee intended Daniel to take a carefully crafted but false narrative back to his own time and to die within minutes of arrival. That much probably hadn’t changed even now that they’d captured him by force. But there were some loose ends to their plan.

Now that he’d been exposed to the resistance, he was no longer cooperative, but of course, they knew that. They probably already had a plan for how they’d ensure the bogus information still returned with him. Stuff a new olinwun in his pocket and force him back in time? Shoot him and press the button? Something along those lines.

But you can’t return to an anchor in the past without first flowing empros, and he’d have to be alive at that point to select the next command on the belt. Once the world around him froze, he’d have a huge advantage.

It didn’t make sense, though. Father wasn’t stupid, having jumped through time himself. He certainly understood the power wielded by anyone in empros time. They’d probably have an answer.

Then there was the immediate situation. Hands tied and locked in a trunk by madmen who’d already killed and might kill again. Solutions weren’t leaping out. He resolved to go down swinging if that was what it came to, but there might be small victories they could eke out.

One idea came to mind.

“Your hands are still bound?” he asked.

“Yeah. I can feel your face, that’s about it.” They were both lying on their right sides, with Jacquelyn in front .

The zippered compartment of his modern-throwback pants still contained the olinwun that Aiden had given him. He could feel the coin pressing against his thigh.

“Can you move at all? Scoot along the floor?” The vehicle went over a bump in the road and their heads clunked in unison.

“Ow,” she cried. “Yeah, uh, I think so. A little.”

“Try to scoot toward your feet, and I’ll scoot up. If you can get your hands to my right pocket, Aiden’s olinwun is in there.”

They shuffled, each bump in the road giving them momentary help as their bodies lifted from the floor. Her shoulder blades pressed against his face, and her hands fumbled around his waist.

“I’ll roll on my back.” He wiggled, positioning his pocket as close to her hands as he could. Her fingers searched and found the zipper.

“Got it,” she said.

He slid down until he could feel her fingers against his face once more. “Put the coin in my mouth.”

“What?”

“Just do it. I’ll swallow it.”

“How’s that going to help?”

“According to Vitoria, olinwuns can’t be tracked if they’re in water.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Just do it. It might work. At least, they won’t find it and take it away.” He imagined he’d soon be in 2023, most likely dead, possibly with a phony olinwun in his hand, or pocket, or somewhere. But if he was lucky, the people of his own time would eventually extract the real one from his stomach. The FBI would figure it out from there .

She pushed the coin to his lips and he sucked it in, immediately wondering how this triple-sized horse pill was going to get down his throat.

He swallowed hard several times, gagging but trying to ignore the pain. At first, it lodged in the back of his throat, but with effort and patience, the lump descended, and the pain finally went away.

“You okay?”

“Sort of,” he wheezed. “That was bad. Wish I had some water.”

“Can we get some water back here?” Jacquelyn yelled. There were laughs up front and more muted, but incoherent words. The vehicle drove on without stopping.

“Thanks for trying.”

“Now what?” she asked.

“Search this compartment for whatever might serve as a weapon. Anything, even a sliver of metal or a stick might help.”

They slid across the floor, feeling in every recess. The space wasn’t large and was mostly empty. “Found a rag,” she said.

“A few scraps of paper over here,” he said. He was hoping for a road flare or a crowbar, but no such luck.

They had no physical defense, but weapons came in different forms. Words were still a resource, and he had a few choice ones saved up for the soulless beasts that had murdered without hesitation. But no matter how eloquent or powerful, words launched at the uncaring, uneducated dregs of humanity simply dissolved into their idle gray matter like neutrinos passing unfettered through the Earth. He would need to speak with their leader, not these thugs.

At some point, this vehicle would stop and they’d be dragged out. They might be separated, they might be interrogated, she might become a hostage to force him to follow their orders. It wasn’t hard to imagine the number of ways in which this could end badly .

Jacquelyn began trembling again, and he scooted closer until their bodies touched.

Daniel shoved the gloomy outcomes from his mind and focused only on what might give them an advantage. Success of any kind seemed remote, but he was convinced he’d find a path even if it hadn’t yet formed. Throughout his life, he’d been showered by words of encouragement. You’re smart, you’ll find a way. Jacquelyn had said it herself.

Confidence provided a pathway for clear, rational thought. And clear thinking discovered alternatives that hadn’t been considered before.

He lifted his head and whispered into her ear, his words never truer. “I promise you, I will get us out of this.”

With some effort, she rolled over, and they touched noses in the darkness. She took a deep breath and the trembling stopped. Her voice wasn’t shy or aggressive, but genuine. “I believe you. I don’t know why, I just do.”

She took another deep breath. “Maybe it’s because you’re so different than all the other guys. Maybe it’s because I love you. Sorry, I shouldn’t say that. I know you’re already taken.”

“It’s okay, I understand.”

If his arms had been free, he would have held her close. As it was, brushing his nose against hers was the best he could do.

The vehicle stopped briefly while their captors spoke with another voice coming from a speaker. They drove a few hundred yards further and stopped, turning off the engine. Doors slammed, and the compartment hatch opened. Rough hands grabbed him under the armpits and hoisted him out into the brightness of daylight.

Daniel filled his lungs with the fresh air of a country breeze while his eyes adapted. For the first time, he got a good look at the attackers. Four men in military camouflage fatigues, weapons slung over their shoulders. Clean-shaven faces. The guy issuing orders had a scar on his cheek.

Two other soldiers pulled Jacquelyn out. Her hair was mussed and her eyes showed fear, but she wasn’t bleeding and seemed able to stand.

They were on a paved driveway. To one side was a large house with white columns in front. The surrounding estate of grass and trees seemed to stretch forever among rolling hills. The estate of someone important.

“Around the back,” the man with the scar commanded, and he pushed Jacquelyn forward.

Roughly forty-five minutes west or north of Atlanta, Daniel judged. Location might be important, and he’d store as much information as he could to find a way out, or at least to stay alive. He would remain silent for now; these goons had no power to negotiate. They were only dumb muscle. The real power, no doubt, was inside this grand house.

They were pushed to an entrance at the back of one wing of the mansion, led down some steps and into a corridor. The group leader flipped on lights and stepped behind a desk. He pressed a button, and further down the corridor, a large metal door slowly swung open. They passed through a circular opening with a stainless-steel frame that was at least a couple of feet thick. It felt like stepping into a bank vault.

On the other side, the guard pressed a second button, and the massive door closed behind them. He shoved Daniel down the hall.

To one side was a narrow metal door with a small window at eye level. The goon slipped a key into a lock and pushed the door open, shoving Daniel and Jacquelyn inside. While another trained his weapon on them, the leader frisked them both, removing Daniel’s phone from his jacket pocket. He brandished a knife and cut the tie straps from Jacquelyn and then Daniel, dropped a single water bottle on the floor and left, slamming the door shut. A heavy dead bolt clunked into place.

Daniel took a deep breath, allowing tension to release. No bullets, no beating and no rape. The worst possibilities hadn’t materialized. He even had his arms free once more. He pulled Jacquelyn close and they embraced in silence.

It was a windowless room about twenty feet on each side. A single bulb inside a wire cage on the ceiling provided light. No place to sit other than the floor. A single bottle of water and no food. If it was a holding cell, he hoped they wouldn’t be here long.

“You okay?” Daniel asked.

“Worried,” she said. “They killed Aiden, didn’t they?”

Daniel nodded. A smart young man had put his life on the line for strangers and lost.

“Goddamned storm troopers,” she said.

Daniel shook his head. “Bullies with guns, dimwitted and cruel. History is filled with their kind. I thought the future might be better.”

“Not this future.”

Daniel released her and stepped to the metal door, peering through its window into the empty corridor. The glass was reinforced with a wire mesh. This place was designed to keep people in .

Satisfied they’d been left alone, he leaned against the wall and slumped to the floor, motioning to Jacquelyn to join him. “Let’s figure this out together.”

She curled up close, wrapping her arms around his elbow. Her fear and anger weren’t going anywhere, and Daniel didn’t blame her. Witnessing murder wasn’t something that anyone could just let go. Daniel felt the same, but he’d need to ignore it for now and summon his intellect if they were going to survive this day.

“They want us alive, and not just me, you too,” he said. “They’re not police or we’d be in a station, so I presume they’re enforcers.”

“They are,” she said. “The red-and-white patch on their arms.”

“Okay, so who gives the orders to enforcers?”

“Any of the Committee Chamber members. The guys at the top.”

“How many?”

“Five or six, including Father.”

“Any rogue members that you know of? Any infighting among these top people?”

She shook her head. “If there is, we wouldn’t hear about it down on my level.”

“We should assume they know about the prison release by now, but let’s not say anything about it, just in case. We want to give Vitoria and Daniel time to get out of the country.”

She nodded.

“Since they didn’t kill us, they must still want me to play the stooge in their plan. You must have a role in this too or they wouldn’t have brought you here. I doubt they were being merciful.”

She nodded once more, biting her lip. Her role as a hostage could mean almost anything .

“Okay. So, we need to find the holes in their plan. If they still have the belt, and if they haven’t wiped it clean, its controller will still show time as compressed and should still have an anchor point in 2023.”

“Lots of ifs.”

Daniel nodded. “Yeah, but if they want me to return, they have no reason to destroy the belt or clear the anchor.”

“So, where are the holes?”

He tipped his head. “Still thinking about that. The main hole is flowing empros. It’s a different direction of time, and to compress or decompress, I have to flow empros first. When I do that, everything around me freezes—I mean literally freezes. Nobody moving, nobody thinking. Even a bullet in flight would freeze. Once I’m in empros time, they can’t stop me.”

She motioned to the small room. “Could you get out of here?”

“Unfortunately, I can’t just walk through walls.”

“Maybe they’re going to take you somewhere else.”

“Maybe.”

They sat side by side for an hour, talking through the situation, looking for ways out. Most of it was guesswork, but Daniel was thankful to have someone who’d worked on the inside who could confirm his suspicions or answer his questions.

They eventually tired and dropped into silence. Jacquelyn rested her head on his shoulder. Daniel closed his eyes but remained deep in thought.

The sound of an electric motor told him the outer door was opening. Footsteps in the hallway were followed by the jangle of keys in the lock.

The door opened, and the muzzle of an automatic weapon poked through. The guard strode in and took a position on the opposite wall, keeping the weapon aimed at them .

Daniel stood up and helped Jacquelyn up beside him. They remained pressed against the wall, eyeing the guard but not saying a word.

The man with the scar stood at the doorway, keys in his hand. He stepped aside and lowered his head when another man in a skintight bodysuit passed by and into the room.

Daniel didn’t recognize him at first. The long gray hair and beard were the same, but his spry movements were those of a man forty years younger. Father had changed since their meeting at the Golden Spire.

His face was still deeply lined, like an aging rock star who might have been wasted on drugs one too many times. But each step was agile, almost springy. The bodysuit he wore bore an exterior pattern of parallel lines that wrapped around his torso, legs and arms, mimicking muscle fibers. Daniel suspected the suit was the reason for his youthful mobility.

Father approached Daniel, glancing briefly at Jacquelyn with a sour look.

Jacquelyn bowed her head. “Blessed Father,” she whispered.

Daniel understood her gambit to appease the man who held them captive, but he had no intention of playing an artificial game of reverence and awe. They’d speak as equals.

Father’s voice was calm but creepy. “Dr. Rice. It’s time for you to leave us.”