BROOKLYN NAVY YARD
As Ryan held the door for the unwelcome visitors, his radio crackled to life.
“One, this is main gate, the six vehicles have turned off the main drive and have gone beyond my view. We’ve lost them, Commander.”
“Roger, make your way back to building one-seventeen, consolidate what we have.” Ryan lowered the radio and saw that the small group was waiting on him inside the old reception area.
“Problems?” the Russian asked with a mockingly concerned look on his face.
“None at all.” Ryan again raised the radio to his lips. “Five, this is one, copy?”
“Copy,” Will said from outside.
“Inform the local authorities we may have a security concern.”
“Roger,” came Mendenhall’s reply, and then the radio was silent.
“A wise precaution, my friend. Wise indeed.”
“You know, I’ve always noted the comic book ways you guys talk, a much more precise language, trying to be more sophisticated than you are, when in the end you are nothing more than those pathetically depicted comic book villains.”
The smile faltered for the briefest of moments and Jason could see that his words had angered the Russian. He smiled and gestured that they should follow him.
Joshua Jodle directed the first Explorer in line to the south side of the navy yard toward the original building 114. The windows of the building were dark as all of the activity had shifted to building 117 a quarter of a mile away.
“The tunnel better be there.”
The small man looked over at the brute who was wearing a black leather jacket that didn’t do much to hide the small automatic weapon he held.
“Of course it’s there. I supervised the construction myself,” he lied. “How do you think we could move about from one building to the other while reengineering the doorway without being noticed by the navy yard staff? It’s there, it goes directly to the subbasement of building one-seventeen.”
The man nodded and then opened the door. He removed the Israeli-made Uzi from his jacket and then waited for his fifteen men to join him.
“Remember, once we are in, there is to be no firing of weapons. I am informed that there is some very delicate equipment inside that does not react well to gunfire.”
The other men nodded and Jodle cringed as he saw the explosive firepower of the Russian mob firsthand.
The former concentration camp survivor moved the men into the darkened building where the first doorway had allowed much more honorable men to invade the heart of Nazi Germany not many years before.
But tonight his task was not so noble and he felt guilty as the men made their way to the basement and the tunnel that would lead them to the time machine.
* * *
Sergeant Hernandez stepped in front of Director Compton when he tried in vain to move past him and the meeting just outside the observation room.
“Step aside, Sergeant,” Niles ordered as calm as he could.
“No, sir, can’t. Commander’s orders, sorry,” Hernandez said, and truly felt bad. He realized he just told the man in charge of Department 5656 and secretly one of the most influential men in the world that he couldn’t do something. “After the reaming we took from the colonel … I mean … can’t you see we’re on thin ice here?” The sergeant looked for help from the only other person in the observation room, Moira Mendelsohn, but she only shook her head. No help there, he thought.
“Sergeant, the bite of Colonel Collins is nothing compared to mine. I swallow military personnel whole, now open that door,” Niles said so calmly that the large army sergeant took an involuntary step back. After all, he had never once spoken to the kind, scholarly man before. And now here was that same kindly and scholarly gentleman threatening to swallow him whole. He reached out and opened the door—as far as the sergeant was concerned it would be a pleasure to get court-martialed by Ryan. At least he didn’t have to look into the scary one-eyed visage of the small director. Compton took the wheelchair’s handles and bypassed the battery system of Madam’s chair and they left the office together.
* * *
“Ah, there she is,” the Russian said as Niles limped behind the chair and both he and Moira entered the reception area where the ghosts of World War II secretaries gossiped over the latest Cary Grant film sixty-five years before.
Virginia looked angry as she took in Niles. She should have known he would pull something like this. The man hated being told what to do. This Group had spoiled their own boss too damn much. The assistant director wanted to throttle the man.
“I was just telling this asshole here that this is a private concern and that he can go fuck himself. Do you have anything to add, Doctor?” she said as her eyes bored into Compton’s only good one.
“No, sounds like a good position to me,” Niles said as he made his way over to a chair and sat down. Moira was silent as she took in the scene before her. Her eyes sadly found the Koblentz family and she wanted to call out to them but she forced herself to remain still. Then she saw the small baby wrapped tightly against the night. She had heard a few days before that the mother had gone into labor. She had always insisted on being informed when the offspring of one of her children were born as each child received a full scholastic scholarship. But now it looked as if all of that were over for her and her extended family.
The Russian half bowed and then looked at the small balding man who had just taken a seat. The portly man was in poor shape as the Russian soon discovered. He was scared and had a limp and an arm that didn’t seem to work quite properly. All in all these people were not the meek scientific types he had expected. They would bear watching.
“Alexi Doshnikov.” He straightened after the brief protocol of the bow.
Virginia and Niles had heard the name and they could see by the look on the Traveler’s face she had heard of the mobster herself. It also looked as though a small smile eased across her lips. Compton looked up and he could see one of the outside monitors in the reception area and saw the face of Xavier Morales appear and then disappear almost as fast. Suddenly he saw that Europa had shut down all of the monitors inside the building. Even the cell phones died in the Group’s pockets. Europa had pulled the plug. At least he knew they were being monitored by an outside source.
“The police have been called,” Ryan said as he looked angrily toward the director. The act of defiance started here at Group right at the top of the heap and worked down.
“Oh, that,” Doshnikov said with a sad smile on his face. “The local authorities have a small terrorist act on their hands, nothing major I assure you, but it seemed to be directed at Brooklyn’s pride and joy of an arena, so it looks as if any response time from the police may be an extended and lengthy proposition.”
“See what I mean about talking as if you’re a sophisticated villain,” Ryan said angrily, but kept his smile from reaching his eyes.
“My friend, your little quips of humor have a decidedly harsh and mocking edge to them, and I am growing tired of it. Out of respect for the Traveler, I will not have you shot in front of her, but keep in mind there is no help coming and that mouth of yours is a severe liability to the survival of this innocent family.”
The door opened from the outside and Will Mendenhall, Sarah McIntire, and Anya Korvesky walked in as if they were unaware of what was happening. Jason noticed none of them were carrying the M-4 rifles they had had earlier, but at least all of them played the role well as their eyes widened in mock surprise as they slowly raised their hands into the air.
“These are the two that were on top of the building this afternoon,” one of the larger men said as he stepped forward and frisked Mendenhall. Will had to smile when he saw the melted nylon of the man’s coat pocket.
“Have a little accident there, Ivan?” Will asked as he nodded at the man’s pants where the confiscated cell phones had melted down. The Russian angrily tossed Mendenhall against the wall and made a far more thorough and rough search of the captain. Ryan winced as he realized Mendenhall was trying his best to provoke these men.
“Where are my four men?” Doshnikov asked as he stepped menacingly toward Ryan, who held his ground.
“It seems we left them in the loving arms of some very motivated Italian folks. You might know them since they ran these neighborhoods a hundred years before you were born, Stalin.”
The backhand to Ryan’s jaw caught everyone but the navy man off guard. Jason shot Will a look to let him know that he just took the heat off of him and for the captain to knock off antagonizing these assholes. That was his job and he prided himself on doing it well.
“I will deal with our Italian friends another time. For now you will take us to see this marvelous machine you have stolen from our poor Madam Mendelsohn. If you do this, we will utilize this golden ticket”—he nodded at the young family and the baby the mother held close to her chest—“one time and one time only. And then you can return to rescuing Jews or whatever it is you people do. I couldn’t care less. I need one night only, one trip only.”
“What do you hope to accomplish?”
All eyes turned and faced the Traveler. She was leaning forward in her chair and waiting as if a patient teacher had asked a backward student a question.
“A great many things, Madam. They may not be the noble endeavor you and your associates have planned, but one that will benefit this great city very much. One that I might add benefited your own company very much indeed. Ah, don’t tell me you are unaware how your board of directors made their fortunes, are you? Come now, who’s being the naive one here, Madam? Yes, we have a far less noble, but yet beneficial endeavor.”
“And that endeavor is?” Moira asked just as patiently as before.
A warning look from Alice Hamilton failed to still the questioning by the brilliant scientist.
“Alas”—Doshnikov looked from Alice then back to Moira—“I’m afraid my quest is one of avaristic value alone, just as your board of directors before me. Only I won’t be nickel-and-diming, as these Americans like to say. I’ll be making my moves all in one night, and the special thing is, and I mean very special, is the fact that other than the use of this magnificent doorway, it will all be completely aboveboard and legal. You see, I plan to be running this city this time next year and I plan on having the financial backing to do it.” He smiled and stepped closer to the wheelchair-bound Moira. He patted her old hand and then turned over the wrist and saw the tattoo: 674392. “And your miracle of science is going to supply me with that opportunity.”
Moira only smiled as she pulled her arm free of the man’s grip. Then she turned and gestured for the new mother and held out her hands for the baby.
“That is not recommended,” Doshinikov said as he stepped between the mother and the Traveler. “As the child has yet to be burped, and we wouldn’t want that, would we?” he joked, and then saw that the tattooed Ryan wasn’t laughing.
Niles nodded that they should adjourn to the observation room. He waited until it was just him, Virginia, Alice, and a Russian guard before following. He nodded descreetly toward the darkened monitor. Both Virginia and Alice knew then that Xavier Morales was knowledgeable of their situation.
But could the new computer whiz do anything about it?
* * *
As the Russian took in the stirring sight of the Wellsian Doorway and the many technicians who were preparing for the return dimensional shift when and if the signal was received, they could not prepare themselves adequately for the size of the operation. Seeing the many angry-looking technicians made Doshnikov momentarily hesitant about the size of his task. But seeing the doorway eased the problems to the back of his limited brain.
“Everyone is just so busy, a stirring sight indeed,” he said as he placed a manicured hand onto the shoulder of one of Virginia’s female operators. The specialist recruited from George Mason University but five weeks before turned her body away from the man’s cold touch.
“We aren’t going to allow this, you know that, right?” Ryan said as he nodded at the director to hurriedly escort the young science tech from the room.
“Oh, I think we can come to an understanding,” Doshnikov said as he nodded toward the baby and the closing door where the female operator had just left.
“We won’t be killing the baby, you will, along with the doorway,” Ryan said as he didn’t want the director speaking directly to this man.
The Russian looked at his watch as he again stepped to the window.
“Oh, we will be killing far more before we even get to the child.” He turned and smiled as the noise was heard from below through the speakers on the observation room wall.
Ryan stepped hurriedly to the glass and saw that the room had filled with many men and all of them were carrying automatic weapons. They had bypassed external security somehow and entered through a portal the Event Group had no idea was even there. The plans for the building didn’t include another exit.
“Oh, these dramatic shifts in circumstances always give me that comic book thrill,” he said, smiling, and with mock excitement as he took in an even angrier Ryan. “Or is that too wordy for you?”
Below on the platform floor, the Event Group technicians were rounded up and forced against the wall and held there.
“Now,” Doshnikov said as he turned and faced the people in the room, “let’s see if we can make this expensive slot machine pay off.” He pushed Ryan toward the stairs. “Shall we?” Jason made eye contact with Niles on his way out. He silently pleaded with the director to not antagonize these men. As he told Will earlier, that was his job to keep the black-hearted men off balance.
Below them the doorway lay dormant. In Nevada Xavier Morales wondered just what he and Europa could do to help because if they could not resolve the situation sooner rather than later, Colonel Collins might not have a way to come home again.
Director Compton said he would face excitement even inside the complex, but thus far in his limited experience with Department 5656, this was just plain ridiculous. Xavier hit the emergency switch located at his desk and the warning chimes sounded throughout the complex. The Event Group was now on alert for a possible hostage rescue in Brooklyn.
* * *
With the exception of Niles, Alice, Moira, and two of the larger Russian guards, the group was led down the stairs. The three were left behind because of age or infirmities, along with the outright thought that the three could cause no harm, even if they somehow escaped. But in all reality Doshnikov just didn’t have the time to get them down the stairs and ensconced in the large elevator.
The Russian immediately left the group after stepping from the stairwell. The rest were being brought down by the freight elevator. He wanted to gaze upon the doorway by himself. He saw his fifteen men had secured the technicians safely—after all, they would be the ones to help him achieve his goals this night.
He turned and saw the doorway as it sat silent and still, steaming like a hot iron. The lasers were being cooled through the conduit system that was currently being flushed with liquid nitrogen, which made a loud and ear-piercing noise as it struck the hot system. The Russian didn’t even flinch at the loud noise as he was mesmerized by the sight of the ceramic-covered doorway.
The radiation warning lights were flashing their yellow cry of danger as the system was being rebooted. When Virginia reverse-engineered the doorway she was only guessing at the turnaround time. Moira had explained that at the height of their dimensional jumps they had a twelve-hour turnaround time to reboot their systems and to recharge their antiquated laser platform. That was when she realized how painful Moira’s trips were through the German Doorway before the advent of the advanced lasers of today. It was a wonder the girl child had survived even the four experimental jumps back in Germany.
Doshnikov saw something just beyond the doorway and stepped up to the platform. He cautiously ran a hand through the air to make sure nothing vanished on him. Then a loud scream sounded and the Russian almost screamed. He turned angrily at the intruder to his thoughts. It was the man they called Ryan. He had screamed as soon as the elevator doors had opened wide enough for him to see what he had been doing. He intentionally made the Russian look the fool. Jason was brutally pushed forward as he and Mendenhall laughed at the fright he had put on the mobster.
Doshnikov returned to what had attracted his attention. He grimaced and then stepped through the front portal of the doorway. He took five steps inside and then reached down and felt the cold steel. He then reached over and retrieved something from the deck. He straightened and saw that it was dirt and some form of moss. The entire entryway to the doorway was covered in what looked like ash. He looked down and the trail vanished after only a few feet. He brushed the dirt and ash away and slapped his hands together and then turned to face the others. He moved over to the glass partition where the Event Group technicians sat stoicly, not moving but not frightened either. Most were defiant and just waiting for Commander Ryan to lead the way and tell them what to do. They had come to learn the colonel’s security department was always one step ahead. They all turned when they heard a grunt and saw that Jason Ryan had been clubbed on the head pretty good by one of his captors. The reality of knowing they may not be one step ahead didn’t frighten them as much as anger them. After Overlord, it was pretty damn hard to scare people from Department 5656.
“Perform your duties well and you will soon be set free”—Doshnikov gestured around him—“to go about doing whatever it is you very strange people do. Do not perform them and I’m afraid there will be repercussions. Starting with that small child. And I know how you Americans can be so aghast when harm befalls children.” He gestured toward his men. “Take the family Koblenz to the observation room. Give me the detonator.”
The detonator to the explosives strapped to the baby’s carrier was passed to him and the family was moved back into the elevator once the threat was made and understood. It was then that a groggy Ryan looked at Mendenhall and then his eyes found the small detonator device in Doshnikov’s hand. Will nodded but at the moment there wasn’t anything he could do about it. Anya and Sarah were also watching and examining the detonator. The key here was to make sure that the baby and family were left unharmed. To every man and woman in the Group, that was now the priority, even beyond the safety of Jack and his team, Everett or themselves. Niles had explained time and time again: what they did was not worth one innocent life in their pursuit of historical acumen. Ever.
“Now, Mr. Jodle, please step forward.”
In the observation room Moira saw the traitor for the first time. Joshua Jodle. She had known the man was a weasel and the only child she ever regretted bringing out of Germany. Ambitious was a mild word for the cruel child. He had learned from the Nazis just how to get things done through intimidation. Sad that was the only lesson the boy had learned in the camps. The board had warned her of the man’s ambitions.
“Are you prepared?” the Russian asked.
Jodle held up an aluminum case. The prize was held chest high and the Wall Street genius nodded.
“If I may ask?” Ryan said as he rubbed the bump on his head and angrily looked at the guard who had delivered the blow. The tattoo made the Russian thug wary of the much smaller naval officer.
“Ah, finally some curiosity. Actually I was hoping you would ask. Inside this case”—he reached out and tapped it lightly on its top as the smiling little rat that held it did the same—“is the future, or should I say the past. This is the mythical Pandora’s Box and it is filled with the key to riches beyond measure.”
* * *
As Moira listened to the men speak through the speaker system, she cringed as she realized just what the traitor Jodle and the Russian were about to attempt. The thought that all of her wealth that her board of directors might have accumulated in the same manner over these many years made her physically ill.
“What are they up to, Moira?” Alice asked.
“They are simply going to change their destiny. I suspect that inside that case is a stock portfolio from sometime in the past, perhaps an exact copy of Warren Buffet’s. Or perhaps corner the market on Microsoft stock. My bet would be on Buffet or Gates.”
“Can they do that?” Niles asked.
“Yes, but they would have to use the doorway from building one-fourteen way back when it was operational, and since time and the dismantling of the doorway from building one-fourteen means nothing to the quantum jumper, it could be done. They would lock on to the signal during one of our operations just as you did tonight, and then they can travel all the way back to 1968 if they wanted. But they wouldn’t have to go back that far. I would guess they would shoot for the doorway’s last operation, when we brought back that little bastard Julien.”
“Industrious, I’ll give the poor bastard that,” Niles said as he eyed the monitor in the corner. It was still dark but he suspected that Xavier was there along with his entire staff. He was hoping he was thinking the same way that he was at that moment. Niles nodded at the monitor and the two Russian guards thought he had gone into some sort of spasm. Again he nodded at the monitor and then moved his head to the side toward the glass that separated the observation room from the doorway below. Compton quickly and deftly ran a finger across his throat.
At that moment both Alice Hamilton and Moira Mendelsohn knew what Niles wanted Xavier to do. The two Russians conversed in their native tongue at Compton’s strange behavior and that was when Alice broke the silence since the guards wouldn’t know what they were talking about anyway.
“What about our people?”
Niles shook his head.
“That’s just it, they’re our people and they will know what to do.”
Alice and Moira both looked at each other, knowing the director might have just ordered the death of all in that room.
* * *
The camera system had remained on but was set only as a one-way link. Xavier could see them but they couldn’t see him. Morales could hear them but knew the director was limited as to what he could say in the open. What Compton did manage shocked and astounded him. There was only one thing he could do to achieve what the director wanted and he hoped he was thinking along those same lines.
“Gentlemen, I need your attention and your expertise,” he said as he turned his wheelchair and looked out on the computer center floor. His 112 techs looked over at their new department head and listened.
“What do you need, boss?” Harvey Anderson from photo intelligence asked before the others could. The men and women had managed a growing respect for how fast the twenty-five-year-old thought.
“We cannot make adjustments to the settings from here, they can only do that in Brooklyn. But we can do something else.”
The large center waited as he thought a moment. He hoped beyond measure it was the same thing the director was thinking.
“What, sir?” Anderson asked.
“We can turn the doorway on. And do it on full power. We can’t adjust the settings from here, as I said, but we can sure as hell make that doorway burp a little. I need a direct link to the Los Angeles. We need that boat on standby for emergency power-up.”
“At full power that doorway will create a hurricane force inside that building, and then it will suck anything in front of it through to another dimension.” Anderson looked around him at the other techs that were just as shocked as he.
Xavier smiled. “And hopefully right into the waiting arms of a very pissed-off Colonel Collins.”
The light slowly dawned on the technicians’ faces and they knew that this man had just as much if not more brass balls than that had been demonstrated by none other than Dr. Peter Golding.
“People, let’s get ready to send this Russian jerk-off into a world he didn’t expect. Someplace his stock portfolio does little good.”
* * *
Joshua Jodle examined the new and improved design of the doorway. He went from the rectangle lining the doorway to the technicians’ stations behind the glass partition. One of the Group’s younger electrical engineers from UCLA watched the man and shook her head. He caught sight of this in his peripheral vision and turned on her.
“What is the minimum reboot time for this system?”
“You got me there, fella, they don’t tell me diddly around here,” she said in all seriousness.
“Unlike my Russian partner over there, I do not like to use threats, but you must know that they are not beyond my capabilities, young lady.” Joshua turned to face the girl and her colleagues sitting against the old brick wall. They all seemed to be enjoying his lack of knowledge.
“Yeah, we’re going to cooperate with a bunch of lowlife bastards who just strapped explosives to a sleeping baby.” The young blonde looked to her left at the other young technicians. They were all of the same mind and it was at that moment most realized just how much their chief of security had rubbed off on them.
Jodle looked through the glass at the waiting Doshnikov and shook his head. The Russian just nodded once and one of his guards went to the first tech in line and stood the young man up. The defiance in the kid’s bespectacled face was evident to Ryan and Mendenhall, who stood with Virginia, Sarah, and Anya. The boy’s eyes momentarily flicked to those of Ryan for the bravery he would need in the next few moments.
“I believe the question was what is the turnaround cycle for the doorway,” Doshnikov asked with an exasperated intake of breath. His eyes bored in on the young tech, who swallowed as the larger Russian took him by the lab coat’s collar menacingly.
“That’s enough,” Jason said as he took a menacing step away from the center of the room, but only made it two feet when an old-fashioned six-shot Colt .45 Peacemaker was put into his face. Ryan raised his brows when he saw that it was the head man who had produced the weapon. The end of the barrel looked like a cannon’s bore. Will followed suit and the gun moved minutely to the right and stilled him. Doshnikov nodded that his man should continue the questioning.
Ryan had decided to move again when he caught sight of Alice Hamilton in the observation window above them. She had her hands on the windowsill and he barely saw the small gesture of her hand waving him off and the small shake of her head. Then one finger went up, two fingers went up, and then finally the third finger.
The gathered Russians flinched when the doorway started its slow revolutions. The lasers were off but the coolant chambers were still charged with nitrogen and that stored liquid vented through one of the ports on the side of the rectangular mainframe of the doorway. This loud noise made the Russians jump back as the revolutions increased, creating a small onrush of air as the doorway gained momentum. Doshnikov looked first at Jodle, who was also watching with interest, and then over at Ryan, who gave the Russian a sad look as if his earlier question had unintentionally been answered by the doorway itself.
“Ah, it has completed its cool-down cycle.” He looked over at Jodle, who meekly agreed with a nod.
The technicians who lined the wall exchanged knowing looks that the doorway did not require a cool-down period before a second attempt could be made. They hoped what was about to happen didn’t occur until at least their friends were out of the line of fire.
Jason, Will, Sarah, Virginia, and Anya all saw Niles Compton as he stepped to the glass and stood beside Alice. Niles Compton closed his good eye and then nodded his head. Ryan swallowed when he realized that the scenario facing them was a simple one—they had to get the Russians and that detonator out of the building, and there was only one way to do that. He didn’t know how they would get the Russians to voluntarily step through the doorway, but Jason was willing to go on faith. Before he turned away, Commander Ryan nodded back at the director. He then looked at the darkened main monitor where Xavier would have been. Ryan raised his eyebrows in concern for the plan. He knew it was a silent plea that asked the young computer whiz if he knew what he was doing.
“Oh, shit,” Virgnia said as it just dawned on her how this plan had only one way of working.
“What?” Sarah asked as quietly as she could as the Russian admired the spinning doorway in front of him.
“There’s only one way to get these dickheads through that doorway without asking them to do so—Xavier’s going to flood the system and open the doorway with a surge burp.”
“A what?” Sarah hissed in questioning.
“It’s a theory, but should work.” Virginia’s features soured somewhat. “Damn, this is going to be something.”
EVENT GROUP COMPLEX, NELLIS AIR FORCE BASE, NEVADA
“A what?” The young computer specialist asked as he listened to their new boss’s plan. The other specialists were just as confused.
“When we studied the plans for the German doorway and the more recent apparatus from Madam Mendelsohn, we discovered their earlier mistakes that cost them a few innocent lives in the process. It seems it happened a few times when the doorway was brought online too fast. The surge, or burp, as Madam Mendelsohn called it, is a backwash of energy that rebounds in the opposite direction of the doorway’s intended path when the system’s lasers are started too quickly. The light refuses to bend until the doorway is at full revolutions. Until that speed is achieved the light has no place to go except to bounce off the incomplete doorway path.”
“I don’t follow,” the young man said as he knew he was listening to another computer boss that was light-years ahead of all of them.
“The power of the dimensional shift will bounce back into the room.” Confusion still reigned on most of their faces. “You know, where the bad guys are currently standing.”
It dawned on most at the same time and they realized the Russians were not the only people in the line of fire.
“By the time the burp backfires into the room those people will think the gates of hell have opened up. Madam Mendelsohn claims it’s an enclosed hurricane that sucks everything and everyone into the vortex before anyone knows what’s happening. The RPMs on the machine are at max power and they have a one-way ticket—target, Antarctica—and hopefully a helping hand in Colonel Collins and his team. I hope they’re ready for this.”
The faces staring back at him were worried and Morales knew why.
“It’s the only way we can protect the bulk of the Event Group staff and the doorway. We have to disable those explosives and removing the only way to detonate them is the only way we can achieve that. We just have to hope Mr. Ryan knows what’s happening. So, let’s remotely get this thing started before that Russian asshole decides to kill everyone there.”
The computer center came alive with frightened but determined activity.
BROOKLYN NAVY YARD
“Okay, you can shut it down now, Joshua,” Doshnikov said as his hair was beginning to be tossed by the increasing revolutions.
Joshua Jodle stepped from behind the technicians’ safety glass, shrugged his shoulders, and hurried over to the spot where the artificial wind was starting to move Doshnikov’s heavy coat.
“I said you can shut the doorway down now. We must prepare for your journey.”
“I didn’t start the cycle. I assumed it was on a timer and after she cooled down it would automatically reboot. As you can see it’s just the centrifuge turning, no lasers.” He now had to shout to be heard and that made the young stockbroker concerned as he turned and looked at the spinning doorway. That was when he looked up and saw that little balding man with the eye patch. He could swear the man was moving his lips as he was saying something. It looked like—
“Good-bye.”
Jodle turned and saw that Doshnikov felt the same thing they were all feeling—the electrical charge coursing through their bodies had increased five-fold in seconds. Jodle found he couldn’t move his lips or voice his warning.
Ryan reached out and grabbed a hold of Sarah’s belt. She did the same with Anya. Will and Virginia huddled together, following suit. The room was erupting as the fifteen Russian guards quit paying attention to their charges and their strange behavior. Doshnikov’s heavy coat was almost ripped from his frame as the revolutions increased.
Before anyone realized it, the large monitor sprang to life and the face of Xavier Morales filled the screen. The overhead speaker blared to life and that was the only thing everyone in the laboratory heard as Morales spoke.
“I owe you one, Commander Ryan, I will get you back home, I promise, so … hang on!”
The lasers burst into life. Without the required revolutions and the collider still dormant, the green and blue light burst from the spinning circle of the doorway, shot into the room, hit the far wall, and then an amazing thing happened—the lasers reflected off the old brick and burst backward through the doorway and smashed into the laboratory where the hurricane winds threatened to tear the people and the doorway apart. The electrical charge froze all and they spasmed and jerked. The handholds that Ryan and the others had were not quite enough and they were ripped from one another. The lights burst into a multicolored flash that engulfed the Russian and then the doorway came up to the dimensional-shift speed it needed. The entire room exploded. The guards watching the technicians collapsed into the cowering men and women, and the men next to Doshnikov felt their bodies being swept through the doorway.
Niles froze as the view below was distorted by the blinding light as the Wellsian Doorway burped and then, like a fishing net, a bright circle of light surrounded all and a sparkling sensation filled the room. Before anyone could blink, the sixteen Russians, Joshua Jodle, Jason Ryan, Sara McIntire, Will Mendenhall, Anya Korvesky, and Virginia Pollock vanished as they were pulled into the shift with battering harshness.
The Wellsian Doorway started to wind down as the main coolant lines erupted.
In the observation room Niles Compton turned from the window and saw the two guards staring numbly at the spot where a moment before their boss had been standing with twenty-one other people. Some loose papers still swirled and floated and the static electricity seemed to make anything made of metal glow with light blue haze. The two guards were in shock at the sudden disappearance of Doshnikov and the others. Their mouths were gaping in disbelief. Compton excused himself as he easily reached past Moira and then grabbed the radio before the two Russians could gather their wits, and then the director simply clicked the transmit switch three times in rapid succession. As he did he hoped he had remembered the right number of clicks that Jack had explained earlier.
The two guards turned and knew they had been had when the door burst open and two men—Sergeant Hernandez, who had lost himself in the shuffle and confusion when the intruders had herded everyone down below, and one other from a posted station outside—were on the two before they knew they were being attacked. The two powerful tranquilizer darts hit simultaneously and before the men could grab their chests where they had been struck, two more of the Pfizer chemical–supplied darts hit the men in the neck and shoulders respectively. Their vision clouded and their muscles froze and the paralyzing agent completed the cycle by momentarily cutting the oxygen supply to the brain, dropping the men cold within 1.2 seconds.
“The Los Angeles?” Niles asked.
Sergeant Hernandez rolled the first Russian over and then looked at the director.
“The sudden turn for one hundred and fifteen percent power from a standstill fried a few of her circuits, but other than a small fire in the power transfer cable, the crew says she will be good to go in two hours.”
“Thank God Xavier timed that right. Without the power we would have fried everyone inside that room.” After checking the family Koblenz and after Hernandez and the Marine had safely removed the baby carrier with the explosives, Niles went to the window to check on his other people.
The technicians had all stood and started running for fire extinguishers, and the lone Russian left guarding them could only watch in stunned surprise after the shock of the dimensional displacement. As he tried to close his mouth his weapon was removed from his right hand. The Georgian gangster slowly turned with his toupee askew and saw the young blonde girl from UCLA holding the Glock nine millimeter in his face. Her smile never met her gorgeous green eyes.
“What did you people do?”
“Oops,” she said as she jabbed the taller man in the ribs with the weapon. The young technician was thinking that she could very much get used to this. It was preferable to monitoring gamma radiation readouts.