Keeping Secrets

Why I don’t leave this story alone, I’m not sure. Maybe it is just to revisit the characters, some created over four years ago (Has it been that long?) But I keep tinkering with it, creating new scenarios that I can play around with. I know the number of those who want to plow through these long stories are dwindling, but for those that enjoy them it is enough. This is the second attempt at this chapter the previous attempt destined for the electronic trash can. I hope you that do read it, find some enjoyment in it.  -Grant 

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First Contact

The old Toyota Hilux turned on 40 heading south on the wide arid plane between the two low mountain ridges. The road was straight for as long as the eye could see, and the Hilux shifted through the gears until back at speed. It eased along the narrow road heading toward San Juan. After miles of meeting only a few cars and trucks, a few sweeping curves, and going over one low ridge, the Hilux drove through the farming community of Villa General San Martin, then south into San Juan.

The Hilux drove unhurriedly, barely keeping up with traffic. It drove across the bridge over Avenue Circumvallation, and into the heart of the city. After a few turns, maneuvering the city with confidence, the old truck eventually pulled along the curb at a coffee shop. One nestled between two larger buildings with a storefront of glass across its entire width. On the sidewalk were small two-top tables and a foosball table with two young mans trying to play the game.

The driver’s door swung open, and a cane was held out, set to the asphalt, enabling the driver to ease out of the truck. He stood for a second, getting his balance, then walked gingerly around the truck and into the coffee shop. His knee still hurt from a fall two weeks prior, and recently turning eighty, it had scared everyone at the mountain. He smiled at how they had been so concerned, and of course his grandson was the most worried, forcing him to stay inside his quarters until that morning. A message had arrived, a letter stamped from Hawaii with no return address. It was addressed to a company in San Luis, a dummy corporation that bought nothing, produced nothing, and sold nothing, and therefore remained out of sight. It took a week of surveillance then scanning before it finally arrived at its real destination.

Preston had brought it to him the night before and despite protestations and Reece demanding to tag along, Chester made it clear he was going, and going alone.

He ordered a coffee, black, and strolled back outside to take one of the tables. He sat where he could see the two boys playing foosball and the traffic passing by. One of the boys looked his way and smiled, and Chester smiled back envious of their innocence. They didn’t know what was happening in the world and they didn’t care.

He sipped the coffee, savoring the strong flavor and warmth, despite the heat of the day. The letter had been unexpected, and it set off alarm through the mountain, none more so than Reece and Preston. But Chester knew sooner or later, there would be contact of some sort. There had to be after the events of the last couple of years. The explosion that took Lucan Drayton’s life then the disappearance of Damien Ohme and Eric Pritchard. Only a very few people knew Damien had been handed over to NSC and after a couple of months, finally began to give up information on their operations, explaining the gaps in the data from the files they recovered. Only the guys at the mountain knew Eric Pritchard was dead and buried in Alaska in an unmarked grave that may never be discovered.

The results of their actions had done what was planned. Sent the private contractors working with members of congress and certain think tanks scurrying for cover. With the arrest of Senators Crawford, Bennett, and Wagnor, it was only a matter of days when eight more members of congress were arrested.

There had been trials, hearings in congress, people being rounded up by Homeland, in fact, the trials were still going on, despite the fact news outlets had grown bored with them and moved on to some scandal in Hollywood or who a prince overseas was fucking. Chester knew there was more to the situation, much more, and there was also the problem of the ground roots effort of some groups to carry out their objectives despite having no leadership. It was in Reese’s words a ‘cluster fuck of epic proportions’ and everyone had to agree. But the guys had laid low since the operation. For weeks afterward they stayed in the mountain. Slowly the tension and anxiety ebbed away like a high tide, leaving everyone stir crazy. Over the last few months, the guys came into San Juan to dine, listen to bands, or just browse the shops.

A big Peugeot SUV pulled up behind the Hilux. It was new and shiny and completely out of place on the street. The driver’s door swung open, and an older man climbed out, looked toward Chester then walked toward him. He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt, white linen shorts, and sandals, something Chester had never seen him wear all the years he had known him. He watched the slow casual approach until at his table with the sun making him a silhouette.

“John, what has brought you out of retirement?”

“How’s the coffee?” John replied, ignoring the question for now.

“Good. You should get you a cup.”

“I’ll be right back.”

Chester sipped his coffee and watched the traffic until movement caught his eye, his guest taking a seat.

“How was the flight?”

“Good. How are things here?”

“In the last few months, they’ve been good.”

“Have you been keeping up with what is happening back in DC?”

“Me, not much. I let Preston handle it.”

“Bullshit. I know you. You have your fingers in things more than you ever let on.”

“John, I’m eighty. Don’t you think it’s time to retire?”

“And I’m seventy and just traveled from Paradise to this place to have a confab.”

“Must be serious.”

“It’s bullshit if you ask me. I started to tell them to go fuck off, but…”

“But?”

“You know my replacement turned out to be guilty as fuck, involved up to his neck in what was going on.”

“I recall reading something about that.”

“Not in any legitimate news source, you didn’t.”

Chester laughed, then sipped his coffee.

John leaned forward, closing the distance between them, lowering his voice. “The next guy in line seems to be the real deal.”

“Who is it?”

“Chester.”

“Oh, you mean Matthew Emory Washington. I read he is an outsider.”

“He is just what the agency needs. He worked for me when I was stationed in Damacus, a foot soldier back then, but he silently and confidently made his way up the food chain.”

“Do you think he’s clean?”

“If he’s not, then we’re fucked.”

“So, what does he have to do with us?”

“He wants to meet you. He wants all of you to come in and have a chat about what happened and, his words, not mine, “figure out a mutually beneficial arrangement.””

Chester laughed, shaking his head, then finished his coffee. He set the empty cup on the table, wiped his mouth, then sat back.

“Sounds like a company man.”

“When he needs to be. But I know he has been flexible when the job demanded it.”

“And you think we should meet him.”

John leaned back, finished his coffee and looked around at the two boys playing foosball when one of them squealed in delight. He turned back to Chester, seeing the smile that hid so much.

“Yes, Chester, I do.”

“And how are we to arrange this meeting. We’re not going to call them up from the mountain.”

John reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a flash drive and slid it across the table.

“This has the arrangements Matthew is suggesting.”

“Did you look at them?”

“Of course. I had to make sure it was legitimate. I wasn’t flying to Argentina for some bullshit ploy.”

Chester laughed followed by John.

“Chester, you’re going to be surprised at what he is suggesting. It is a ballsy move, one no one will be able to ignore, or best of all, sweep under the rug or try something stupid.”

“He’s going to make a statement?”

“More like a diversion, of sorts.”

Eyewitness News

The cameraman focused on the reporter, keeping the Capitol in the background. They were set up in the southwest corner of the lawn, the Garfield Monument just through the trees behind them. There is something going on in the Capitol that no one has been able to discern the facts surrounding it. Congress has been called into special session. The Vice President is in attendance, along with officials from several government agencies. No list of attendees has been released and all questions have been met with ‘no comment’. It is one forty-five in the afternoon, the sky perfectly clear and it is hot, mid-nineties and high humidity hot.

The reporter steps in front of the camera, nods her head, and the cameraman signals the camera is rolling.

“I’m Elizabeth Holmes with NBC4 and I’m here covering the unexpected gathering of congress. They had been on break for the last two weeks but two nights ago they were summoned back to the Capitol. It has been reported that all but five members of the House and all the Senators are in attendance, along with the Vice President. Other guests are in attendance, but a list of who they might be and what agency they represent has not been disclosed. There are no foreign dignitaries in attendance that we can discern. As you can see behind me, the area is under heavy guard, local police are around the lawn and the National Guard on the steps of the Capitol. It has been rumored but nothing confirmed, the United States Marines are on site.  Flying around the Capitol are helicopters, and we occasionally see fighter jets high overhead. It is the tightest security we have ever seen at the Capitol.

“Some have suggested this is regarding the Eric Pritchard scandal and the ongoing trials relating to it. I asked the officer in charge of the police guard if he expected protesters and he said the short notice of the event hasn’t given anyone time to plan, but he did expect a few to show up.

“It is five till two, and we’ve been told the event will begin soon, so we expect to see something happening any minute.”

Suddenly people standing in the background are pointing to the south. Elizabeth Holmes turns to see what has drawn everyone’s attention.

“Hey Ricky, are you seeing this?” said Elizabeth into her mic.

The cameraman turns the camera and focuses on the two objects flying toward them. It’s two planes and they suddenly veer to the right, and it is obvious they are following the Potomac River.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have two unidentified planes flying over the…no wait, they have swung around and are flying over…the…mall. They have slowed…I don’t know how they are still flying. They are barely moving toward us. They are pushing up a lot of air as they fly this way.”

The dull black planes fly over Union Square, the Capitol Reflecting Pool, then the Grant Memorial, slowly moving forward.

“I’ve never seen planes like this. Ricky, are you getting this? As you folks at home can see, the planes are fairly large, solid black, not even an FAA designation on them. They are shaped like some of the stealth planes we’ve seen the military use. They are flying overhead now, and I can see two large fans in each small wing,” Elizabeth Holmes is yelling to be heard over the sound of the planes, then suddenly the two planes are flying silent, only the stirring of air can be heard.

“Jesus,” Elizabeth utters, then catches herself. “The planes have stopped over the lawn, just hovering in place; no wait, they are landing. I repeat, they are landing. I can see them more clearly now. There are no windows in either one, and the fuselage is curved with the nose angled downward. I see the first, no wait, both planes have a door opening. Whoever is inside should be coming out soon. “

Arrival

Reese exits the second plane first, taking up a position where he can see both doors. He releases two drones that Jonathan will monitor as everyone disembarks and makes their way to the Capitol Building. They are to be escorted to a lower-level door and guided through the building along a secure passage. There will be no January 6th on this day.

The next to disembark is Liam and Wesley, moving out from the plane ready to react on Reese’s command. Then Preston comes out, followed by Robert and Chester.  Following them are Elijah and Bobby. The others are back at the mountain, or in the case of Jerry, somewhere in Brazil, with instructions to stay there until they know more.

As they move to a set of temporary steps set up at the retaining wall, the doors on the planes close, sealing them from unwanted guest.  They climb up to the plaza, then up the steps and approach the Capitol where four men greet them. One is tall, African American, dressed in a black suit. He shakes Chester’s hand, then Richard’s and finally Preston’s, leaning in close to say something in his ear.

“I’m Matthew Washington with NSA. Thanks for coming. I really didn’t think you would come.”

“I know who you are, and you should have thanked Chester. He was the one who pushed us to do it,” Preston replies.

Matthew chuckles, knowing Preston would have never agreed to it otherwise. He could see Preston played things close to the chest, and he liked him immediately.

It takes a few minutes to make their way to the Chamber of the House of Representatives. They are led to the front of the room and all, but Reese and Liam follow. They take up a position at the rear ready to react should things not go as planned.

Everyone sits except Preston, who follows Matthew to one end of the podium.

“You know what you’re going to say?” said Matthew.

“Yes.”

“You’re not going to piss off everyone in the room, are you?”

Preston smiles for the first time. “Just the ones that deserve it.”

Matthew looks away stifling a laugh, then nods that it is time for Preston to go up behind the lower podium. The Vice President, and the leaders of both chambers are seated behind on the raised podium. He looks across the room, hearing whispers and seeing disparaging looks. When everything grows still, everyone looking his way, he takes a breath and begins.

“Mr. Vice President, Senator Peters, Representative Bryan, Members of Congress and guests, my name is Preston Caldwell and I’m here to talk about what has occurred over the last few years from the perspective of outsiders. We are a small group that tried to live our lives quietly, outside Arlington in the mountains and at times at a little place in Mexico. We were denied this basic right, the right to pursue our own happiness, by some men who sat in these very chambers and within agencies tasked with protecting us. Instead, they attacked us. And yet, to many of you, we are the enemy. We are the ones who should be rounded up and taken into custody. I’m here to tell you to your cowardly faces, that is not going to happen. In fact, we’re not finished with the mission that began when some of you aided a thug in an attempt to take some of us hostage. That was a failure that…well, I think you know where that led. We are here to address any concerns we’re going to hurt innocent people or attack this country in some manner. We are not.

“Some of you have demanded to know where we are residing, how we got the equipment we use, or the funds to operate. Just know we take no taxpayer dollars, nor do we take bribes from private security firms or other entities that seem to operate outside normal parameters. We have not stolen, or confiscated anything. We own our gear, our residence, and, let me make this perfectly clear, our own lives. We’ll tolerate no further attempts to take anything from us or cause us harm.

“Those that seek a military operation against us are the ones that should be investigated to know what they fear being revealed. We have more files than previously released. Some so sensitive we put them away, knowing their release would cause more harm than good. But there are other files that some in our group argued against releasing, and as a group, we agreed.

“I’m not here begging for your support, and I’m not begging for you to leave us alone. I’m telling you to leave us alone. I’ve dealt with a bully for the first eighteen years of my life. I’m thirty-four and refuse to be bullied again, or have any of my friends, those I consider family, to be bullied either.

“I trust you take what I say seriously and get on with the job you were elected to do. Serve and protect the people.”

Preston turned and gave the two men and woman behind him a nod, then walked away. The room was silent.

Sitting in front, Robert leaned over to Chester.

“Did you know he was going to say that?”

“No, not exactly, but I knew the boy was rather upset over the events of the last few years and he intended to express his displeasure.”

“Well, he did do that.”

Matthew Washington walked up with a straight face, one that looked forced, and he indicated the guys were to follow him and Preston to a private conference room where they could talk.

The Confab

“Preston, that was…a bit much, don’t you think?” said Matthew.

“You wanted a diversion, you got one.”

“That I do. Okay, gentlemen, take a seat and let’s talk.”

When everyone was seated, Preston, Richard, Chester sat the closest to Matthew, with two of Matthew’s people on his other side, they sat quietly waiting for Matthew to begin. But it was Reese who spoke up first.

“You called us here to handle something outside your control. What is it?”

Matthew laughed, nodding his head.

“Mr. Ferguson, you do not beat around the bush, do you? Yes, we have a situation that I’m afraid any official response on our part will only make matters worse.”

“The situation in Africa,” said Preston in a low voice, more to himself than to everyone.

“Yes. What do you know about it?”

Preston turned to Chester who gave him a small nod of the head, and Preston turned back to Matthew.

“A quick summary of what we know about the situation in Africa.

First, there is an effort to destabilize five nations, three with a coup being set up to happen before year’s end. One nation is having its government undermined to cause it to become a failed state. The fifth nation is the one we know the least, but it appears there are several terrorist attacks being arranged, probably to cause the people to come to lose faith in their government.

The five nations are Abyssinia, South Sudani, Zaire, Tonga, and Bantia. They are along the eastern side of the continent and are the central region of interest to fossil fuel companies. It would be the perfect place for future exploration since it would have little or no environmental regulation, and if the governments have failed or are failing, then it’ll be a free for all in getting the oil cheap.”

“Follow the money,” said Matthew.

Preston nods in agreement, then continues. “There is also some evidence the groups involved view the region as a safe haven for their more questionable operations.”

“Do you know who is leading these efforts?”

“On the surface, the two main players are Ryland Lee Boyd and Paxton Reed Norton. Boyd came out of the Navy, part of Seal Team Six, then went into Homeland. He left six years ago, joining Damien Ohmer at his private security company. He is currently living in a remote area outside of Salmon, Idaho. Officially, he is retired, but numerous trips to South Africa where he then slips into Bantia shows us he is very active in the operation.

“Norton was within Pritchard’s organization and just four months prior to everything going down, retired, moving to Ermoupoli, Greece. Like Boyd, he is traveling frequently to Africa, only he flies into Ethiopia or Uganda. He is operating four camps for training a militia. Two camps are in South Sudani, one in Zaire, and one in Somalia.

“But neither man is the one calling the shots,” said Preston looking at Matthew to see if he knew too.

Matthew looked surprised, then smiled.

“Your research is impressive. You got a name?”

“I think you know it. Leon Gordon Eriksson.”

Matthew chuckled, shaking his head. He leans forward, arms resting on the table. “What do you know about him.”

“He is not connected to Pritchard, not directly. Fourteen years ago, Pritchard financed Eriksson’s first enterprise, a weapons training program for security firms. Then their connection seems to end. But some money was still going back and forth between them, along with some information. It appears Eriksson believes he is clear of the current situation, living a semi-retired life in Albuquerque, New Mexico, traveling often to South Africa, Greece, and the UK.”

“Damn. That pretty sums up the situation.”

“There is one thing we’re not sure about…well, actually two things.”

“What would that be?”

“First thing is whether these guys have stopped looking for ways to get at us, and two, what they are planning here in the states. We found some communications that mention Perry McGuire, Hope Creek. We find no McGuire in place named Hope Creek.”

“It’s not a person,” said Matthew’s man directly across from Preston.

“We wondered about that. Do you know what they reference?”

“Nuclear plants. McGuire near Charlotte, North Carolina; Perry near Cleveland, Ohio; and Hope Creek in the southern part of the state of New Jersey right on the Delaware River.”

“You found reference to all three of these plants?” said Matthew looking at Preston.

Preston turned to Jonathan, “tell him.”

“We found these references in some of Lucan Drayton’s documents relating to some mission called ‘Red Thunder’ that was first mentioned about two months before everything happened.”

“You got documents from Drayton?”

“Yes, before his place blew up.”

“And we got documents from the vacation homes of Pritchard and Ohme too,” said Preston.

“Jesus; how?”

Preston just stared back before responding. “The question is how we stop them from doing something to three nuclear plants. We think if you can move on Boyd and Norton, put them in a jail cell somewhere, then it might upset their plans enough to stop it.”

“If you can help fill in some gaps, my people are ready to move on them. As to Leon Eriksson, we need more on him.”

“We might be able to help with Eriksson but would prefer you to handle Boyd and Norton. Some public move to take them off the board.”

“Rachel,” said Matthew looking to his right at his person nearest to him, “when can we move on them?”

“If the documents are good, we can move in two or three days.”

“Let’s not mess around with this. Get them picked up.” Matthew turned to Preston, his expression looking amused. “Okay, let’s get to the elephant in the room. It is no secret you guys are keeping secrets about some abilities. I’ve heard special tech, crazy elaborate cyborg shit, and more outlandish sounding stuff I wouldn’t have believed if I hadn’t saw a small section of footage that escaped the censors, some natural abilities. Would you care to explain?”

“Not really.”

Chester nudges Robert who looks over at Liam, then Wesley. Matthews sees the eye contact, how each one responds, then he looks back to Preston.

“I need to know who I’m dealing with here.”

“I don’t know if you can be trusted,” Preston exclaims.

“Preston,” whispers Chester.

Preston smiles, nods his head, then looks at Matthew.

“Okay, but they have to leave the room,” said Preston pointing at Matthew’s two staff across the table.

 

The room cleared, only Matthew Washington remaining, sitting at the head of the table. He looks from Preston to Chester, wondering which will be the one to explain. Preston looks down, and Matthew knows he is against revealing anything. It makes him admire him even more. He sees Chester looking at him, studying him, making one last judgment on whether he can be trusted. Then he smiles and turns to Wesley.

“Show him.”

Wesley stands up, moves to the back of the room. Matthew blinks and Wesley is standing right next to him. He rocks his chair as he pushes away from Wesley startled at how fast he appeared next to him.

“Fuck; how?”

“I can move through space,” said Wesley.

“You can fly…like a bird or a plane?”

“No, not flying exactly. I move through space, frictionless, within a bubble of energy.”

“We don’t understand it yet. Our efforts to study how he generates this field of energy keeps getting interrupted by other things,” said Jonathan.

Wesley floats upward then close to Matthew who feels the hair stand up on his neck and arms, then Wesley floats back, along the side of the room back to his chair where he gently lands by it.

“You were able to fly into Pritchard’s house and –”

“No, I wasn’t the one who got in. That would be Liam,” said Wesley.

“Liam, show Matthew your ability,” said Chester.

Matthew saw Preston look up and smile, one full of mischief and secrets. He turned to the young man standing up who had been seated next to Wesley. He looked young, late twenties at best, and Matthew wondered what Liam could do, that would be better than Wesley flying or moving through space.

Liam cocked his head and grinned, then he slipped into another realm, disappearing from the room.

“Jesus,” uttered Matthew. “He can become invisible?”

“No,” said Preston.

Liam reappeared and set a folder on the table in front of Matthew. It was stamped ‘Top Secret’ and had signatures on the form below indicating who had read the contents. The last signature was Matthew’s and he recognized it as a folder from his safe in his office.

“That’s top secret. I could have you arrested for…”

Matthew looked at Preston who was grinning at him, at Chester and Robert whispering to each other, then along the table at the smiling faces until he came to Reese Ferguson who was giving him a smirk instead of a grin.

“How?”

“I can shift into another dimension, or that is what we think I’m doing.”

“And this lets you get into sealed safes?”

“Yes.”

“You had something to do with that warehouse explosion in New York…and the debris on the moon?”

“Yes.”

“The incident in Vancouver, that was you,” said Matthew looking at Wesley.

“Yes.”

Matthew turned to Elijah and Bobby, both just boys, too young to be involved in any of it.

“What can you two do?”

“I change the state of matter. Solid to liquid to gas or back to solid,” said Elijah.

“I age things,” said Bobby.

“Age things?”

Bobby looked to Liam for guidance, wondering if he should say more.

“We each have an ability and because of how people around us reacted to it or for our safety, we came into the care of Chester, Preston, and Brody,” said Liam.

“Brody? Your partner,” said Matthew looking at Preston.

“Yes,” said Preston.

“I see.”

Matthew leaned back in his chair as he looked around the room, then up at the ceiling.

“This is too much for me to process right now. Do you have a place you can stay overnight, and let’s meet again in the morning. Your abilities are…it changes things.”

“Yes,” said Chester, “we have a place nearby.”

Preston looked at Chester. “Are you sure it is safe?”

“Is any place perfectly safe?”

“But the house is compromised.”

“You mean the mountain house you guys lived in before getting attacked?” said Matthew. He looked over at Bobby. “It was you. All those soldiers looking like they were a hundred years old and that helicopter that was so rusted and brittle there was no way it could have flown; that was you.”

“That’s right,” said Chester.

“What about Camp David?” said Matthew. “I could have my people there to help keep an eye out.”

“Your people?” said Preston.

“I know you don’t trust me, not yet, and I don’t blame you. But I have background checked all the core staff around me, creating a group I can trust. We can clear everyone else out, including the kitchen and housekeeping staff.”

“That would be nice,” said Chester climbing to his feet. “How long do you need to have the place ready for our arrival?”

“Give me two hours. I need to get my staff up there.”

“We’ll need a few things to prepare dinner,” said Preston.

“Give one of my staff a list and we’ll arrange for it to be there.”

“Taco night!” exclaimed Reese, climbing to his feet.

An Innocent

Edmond Schafer walked down the one lane street until he came to the narrow alley that led to the courtyard he passed through two times a day, if not more. He passed two guys he recognized but did not know their names. As he went through the small courtyard, a cut-through for many of the students who lived in Sibley Haus, he passed Steve, someone from his floor in the dormitory.

“Steve.”

“Edmond, how were your classes?”

“Good. Are you going to your lab?”

“Yes. Wish me luck. I’m not ready,” said Steve, laughing as he skipped past Edmond.

Edmond looked back wondering if Steve was gay. He wanted him to be gay, knowing he would never dare do anything like flirt with him. It would be nice just to know he wasn’t the only one on their floor, not that anyone knew he was gay. For Edmond Schafer could never be considered so inferior. Dear father would not be accepting.

Edmond went up the stairs to the second floor, down the hall to his room. He closed and locked the door, dropped his backpack on the floor by his desk, then opened his laptop. It was almost two o’clock and for Felix, his older brother, it was almost one. His brother was at Cambridge, studying hard to please their father. Felix would be finishing lunch and had an hour before his afternoon class, and thus the time of day they spoke via computer once a week.

Edmond wasn’t sure why he tried so hard to keep in touch with Felix, knowing Felix considered him a competition for their father’s attention, and worse, knew he had to study far less to make better grades. The jealousy was always evident, and if Felix found out about his secrets, then nothing would stop Felix from trying to destroy him before their father’s eyes.

“Little brother how are you?” said Felix.

“I’m good. And you?”

“Everything here is good. I’m going to be lead on the debate team.”

“Good for you. You were always good at debate. Have you spoken to father?”

“Yes. He’s very busy with his plan.”

“What plan is that? He never tells me anything.”

“Just wait and see. It’ll be spectacular. It’ll change everything.”

It sounded ominous to Edmond. He feared his father, but he feared what the man was capable of more. He knew there had been tapering with some nation’s government and political maneuvering in Germany, the UK, and even in the United States. And he knew when in moments of complete honesty, it was never good.

“I guess he’ll tell me when he is ready.”

“He did say to get ready, that we will need to go the house near Innsbruck. Do you keep the key on you?”

“Yes, yes, brother. I always keep the key on me and cash in my wallet. But I don’t understand—”

“You will, but patience little brother.”

Edmond saw the arrogance, the smile that had no humor in it. Just the satisfaction that father had entrusted Felix with knowledge not shared with him.

“Mother is going to Zurich to hang out with her friends,” said Edmond.

“She told me. She should be staying by father’s side instead of wasting time with those women.”

“But they are her oldest friends, and we all need friends.”

“Speak for yourself. We need people who will…well, let’s not get into it right now. I have to get ready for class. Until next week,” said Felix and the screen went black.

Edmond looked at the blank screen, then closed his laptop. Studies could wait. He looked out the window considering once again on going to Ludwigshafen to the gay bar, but the idea of being recognized terrified him. He held his hands out, about a foot apart and built up the charge. He built it up until the hair on his arms stood up and he felt it within his skin. White arcs of electrical charge circled his hands then he had it connect, cackling and sparking in the air between his hands. It was odd how such an apparent violent force could calm him. Just the release of a small bolt as he had just done calmed him more than anything else. It made him sleep more soundly, relaxed him prior to an exam or a presentation, and when he felt down, made him feel special. If only he could talk to Franz Otto Schafer, his father, about it, but something told him it was something that would trouble his father more than him being gay.

He could make a much stronger charge, one so powerful it seemed to shift space itself. If only he had the courage to test his capability.

The Assault

Sam finished washing the dinner dishes with the help of Zoelie and Savio, and was drying his hands as the two children, both thirteen, went back to their own rooms. It was later than usual for their dinner, but they had gone to a nearby park for a festival, a treat for the children. Sam hung the dish towel on a bar mounted to the front of the wood counter, walked to the door that led to his bedroom shutting off the light, then closing the door behind as he prepared to call it a night. He was tired after being on his feet most of the day chasing after the children.

He had just laid down when he heard one of the girls scream. It sounded like Sofia, or maybe Zoelie, and he jumped up just as his bedroom door was knocked open and two armed men came storming in.

 

Sam was seated in one of the dining chairs in the middle of the courtyard. The children were lined up under the porch along one side, the younger children kept behind the older. He looked from their attackers over to the children searching for Isidore. The boy wasn’t among them, and it terrified Sam what could happen. He gave Bruno, the oldest at sixteen, a questioning stare. Bruno gave a slight shrug of his shoulders and a shake of the head.

“Samuel H. Norwood, we need you to tell us where your son is currently located,” said the oldest of the six men surrounding them. They all wore ski masks or bandanas over their faces, and all were dressed like some militia. But the one speaking had grey hair, didn’t carry a gun, just a notepad he kept referencing and he was obviously the leader.

“I don’t know where Jerry is,” said Sam.

“NO!” the man exclaimed. “We’re not playing these games.”

The masked man looked at one of the other men, who pulled Bruno from the line of children, dragging him roughly into the courtyard in front of Sam.

“We’ll start with this one, and unless you tell us where your son is located, we’ll not stop until we’ve dealt with every one of them.”

“They’re just children,” Sam stammered, shocked at the threat.

“And life is cruel,” said the man. He turned to one of his men who shouldered his rifle and pulled out a long knife. Holding Bruno by the throat the man looked at their leader.

“Sam, will you tell us where Jerry is, or must we show how serious we are in getting this information?”

“No…you can’t do this…” Sam uttered.

The leader turned to his man, who raised the knife to stab Bruno. Suddenly the man was floating in the air, higher and higher. He dropped the knife and began calling for someone to help him. Then the leader floated into the air, then two more. The two men left on the ground walked out into the courtyard and tried to jump up high enough to capture their leader. Then they floated upward.

Sam watched with a mixture of relief and horror. He knew what Isidore was capable of, for he had secretly watched the boy for a year as he got stronger. He yelled for Bruno to take the children inside as the six men began to spin.

“Hurry! Hurry, inside,” yelled Sam.

It scared the children at the sight of men floating upward, then Sam’s tone reinforced that fear. As the men spun faster and faster, crying out for it to stop, the children rushed inside closing and locking their doors.

Sam moved to the side of the courtyard and watched as the men sped up, spinning so fast they were just a blur. Then he felt the change in the air, the slight charge that made his skin tingle. He knew what to expect after seeing Isidore spin an apple until it came apart, went from pieces to small particles to nothing his eyes could see. He knew it would be far worse with the men.

Two screamed, the others just made strangling noises, then blood was rung out of them, then they came apart. Finally, in the swirling spheres of air and what had been men, Sam saw each one spin faster and faster until what was inside, seemed to vanish.

“Oh God,” Sam uttered, then he looked from roof to roof until he spied Isidore by the old chimney looking terrified. “Isidore, it’s okay. Time to come down.”

It seemed to break Isidore out of a trance. He looked over to Sam, then walked down the roof until at the edge of it and climbed down a column.

“Sam, are you alright?”

Sam heard the fear and relief, then he saw the tears. “Oh, my boy, I’m okay. We’re all okay, even you.”

 

Sam had not used the phone in months. It was for emergencies, and the last time was when one of the children had run away, upset by one of the others picking on them. Reese had commented that wasn’t the emergency they had in mind, but Preston and Chester said it was a real emergency, not to worry. Wesley had found Pichi within the hour and since that night, the phone had laid in his nightstand drawer, only taken out to be charged on occasion.

Sitting on his bed hearing Bruno and Violeta get the children settled into bed, he held the phone. There had been an inclination to call the police first, but what would he tell them. There were no bodies, just the evidence of someone breaking into their home. He brought up Preston’s number and hit send.

The phone rang twice, and Preston picked it up.

“What’s the problem?”

Sam smiled despite his worry, for Preston was not one to make small talk in an emergency.

“Some men broke in. They threatened to kill the children. Preston, they were going to stab Bruno in front of the others—”

“Sam, Sam, back up. What men and what did they want?”

“I don’t know who they were, but they wanted to know where Jerry was at.”

“Fuck.”

“I didn’t tell them.”

“You said were. What happened to the men?”

Preston had a sixth sense and Sam knew not to try deceive him or downplay what happened.

“One of the children…he’s…huh, like the boys in the mountain.”

“What? Why didn’t we know about this?”

“I was worried about him. He had been abused and…and…I messed up.”

“What can he do?”

“At first he just floated a ball in space, making it spin slowly.”

“And now?”

“He spins something until it disappears, or maybe it isn’t disappearing just coming apart into such small particles we can’t see them.”

“He spins something until it flies apart?”

“But he contains it in this ball of air and…Preston, there were six men and they’re gone. Just vanished inside those spheres.”

Sam heard the deep breath, then a sigh over the phone.

“We’re still in DC, but I’m sending Reece, Wesley, and Bobby back tonight. They should be there within a few of hours. Can you meet them on the north side of the city at our drop-off point?”

“Yes. I’ll get the children loaded up and head that way.”

“Have the children pack their things and Sam, take whatever is precious to you, and do you still have that shotgun?”

“Yes, but—”

“Sam, take it with you.”

Sam knew Preston was right. “Okay.”

 

Sam went to Isidore’s room first, finding him sitting on the bed crying. He sat next to him and hugged him tightly to his chest.

“Isidore, don’t cry. You did nothing wrong.”

“But those men…they—”

“They showed you the cruelty that exists in the world and you responded. And I thank you for protecting us.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“What are we going to do?”

“We’re going to where Jerry lived. Now pack up your belongings then help the little ones get packed. Okay?”

“Okay, Sam.”

Sam hugged him again, then climbed off the bed. “Hurry, we have to get on the road.”

“We’re driving there?”

“No, they’re going to pick us up north of the city?”

“Chester and Jerry?”

“No, Bobby and a couple of others. Now hurry Isidore, time’s a wasting.”

Sam rushed to Bruno’s room, then Zoelie’s getting them to pack then help the younger children. He went back to his room, pulled out old photograph albums, hard drives with important documents and recent photographs, his passport, shoving it all into a backpack and duffel bag he got from Jerry. He threw his clothes into two suitcases, tossed toiletries on top, and zipped it up. He pulled the shotgun from his closet and the case with shotgun shells and placed it on the bed next to the suitcases.

At the nightstand by his bed, he got the phone charger, his good watch, the one he rarely wore, and the reading glasses he had just started to need a month ago. In the back of the drawer, he pulled out a ring of keys, singling out the key to the Sprinter passenger van. It was four years old, paint scuffed and a dent in the passenger door, but it ran well, had four-wheel drive, and more importantly, didn’t draw attention. He was going to run to the garage nearby and retrieve it while the children finished packing. For just a second, he stood in the middle of his room surveying it, how his things lay ready to go. “This is insane,” he uttered, then rushed out the door.

Far From Home

Jerry set down on the narrow trail with Lorenzo holding tight to his back. The sun was below the mountains to the east and the air was cold. They turned and looked up the trail with its worn surface, gentle slopes and stone steps that led up to the old Buddhist temple built into the side of the mountain. They were in Bhutan, somewhere west of Paro, a place Chester had told them about a few months prior. It was a place of refuge, a place that was not open to tourists, but Jerry and Lorenzo would be no tourists but guests with an invitation curtesy of Chester.

“Come on, Jerry, let’s go,” said Lorenzo.

Jerry heard the excitement in his voice, something that seemed to never grow tired of their treks, and it made him love him more. They had done South America and when asked where to next, Lorenzo suggested Nepal, then Chester chimed in to suggest Bhutan was a good destination too.

Jerry followed Lorenzo up the trail until at the small landing facing a gate within a stone wall. A wood structure rose over the wall with many windows lining the façade, both toward the trail and the valley below.

As they came to the gate, it swung open revealing two Buddhist monks. The older of the two stepped forward.

“We’ve been expecting you. I’m Phurba, and this is Dogen. He’ll show you to your room, then you can join us for our morning meal.”

“Thanks for allowing us to stay,” said Jerry.

“We owe Chester, and this is just one way to show our appreciation for all he had done for us.”

Jerry knew not to ask, for he had come across others who Chester had helped, never getting the story behind it. But it did surprise him how far from home, on the other side of the world, there would be those Chester had helped.  

 

Jerry followed Lorenzo into their room, one on a third level with a window overlooking the valley. It was dizzying to stand at the window and look out, how nothing was below them but air for hundreds of feet down below. Jerry plugged in the phone Preston had given him with instructions to keep it charged. Unfortunately, with their travels to Paro Taktsang, Bodark Monastery, and other historic locations, he had let the battery go dead.  He turned to see Lorenzo stripped to the waist and about to push down the khakis.

“What are you doing?” asked Jerry in a sarcastic tone.

“It’s been three days since we had a decent bed and a room to ourselves,” said Lorenzo as he pushed the khakis down, then the boxers. He stepped out of them and came up to Jerry kissing him.

Jerry let Lorenzo strip him. It was like a ritual to Lorenzo, how he removed each garment, carefully, gently, until Jerry stood naked before him. They kissed as hands fondled cock making them erect. Lorenzo guided Jerry to the bed, getting him to lay back on it. Crawling up between the legs, Lorenzo soon had Jerry in his mouth, working lips up and down the hard shaft and over the flared head. It made Jerry moan and so begin to push upward.

Lorenzo was over Jerry, hovering over Jerry’s cock he was holding up. Jerry watched as Lorenzo eased down until he felt the tight squeeze on the head. Then he watched inch after inch slip.

Lorenzo leaned over and they kissed. Jerry ran his hands along the waist and the thighs while Lorenzo rubbed his chest, one hand going up along his neck until it held his chin.

Lorenzo sat up, smiled at Jerry then began to move, working his ass up and down, working it on Jerry’s cock. He stroked his own cock while moving at a steady rhythm. Up. Down. Over and over. Until Jerry was close, so damn close, and he sat up and hugged Lorenzo to him. He felt the cock rake up his stomach as ass moved on his cock.

“Lorenzo,” Jerry uttered, and he shuddered with his release. Lorenzo kept moving, up and down on his spurting cock, then cum roped up his chest as Lorenzo cried out and shuddered with his own release.

 

Jerry stood at an open window feeling the wind that raced up from the valley. It was shockingly cold making his skin goosebump. Lorenzo came up behind him, leaning against his back. Kisses along the left shoulder, then lips grazing his ear.

“I love you.”

Jerry leaned forward as Lorenzo raked cock up and down his ass, then centered on the tight opening.

“Do it…put it in me,” Jerry uttered.

Lorenzo penetrated Jerry, pushed inward until half of his cock was inside him. Then he began to fuck, tugging outward, pushing inward, building up a steady pace while sinking deeper and deeper until hips pressed against ass.

It aroused Jerry, made his cock begin to grow erect and he took it in hand stroking it until he was erect. Then he held the windowsill as Lorenzo was fucking harder, faster, making his own cock swing heavily between his thighs.

Lorenzo pushed inward, all the way, grinding hips against Jerry’s ass as he shuddered then cried out with his release. Once spent, Lorenzo guided Jerry to turn around, leaning his ass on the windowsill. Going to his knees, Lorenzo shifted up close and took Jerry in his mouth. It didn’t take much. Aroused to the point his cock was drooling, Jerry needed little stimulation. When Lorenzo’s mouth moved on his cock, he pushed forward and filled Lorenzo’s mouth with his cum.

After a short nap, Jerry was Lorenzo, bearhugging him around the neck as he fucked. Fucked with a slow grind, undulating over the Lorenzo until their bodies were sweating. Jerry moved over Lorenzo, drilling cock into his depths until he shoved inward all the way, throwing his head back, and crying out as he came again.

 

Jerry rolled to his back gasping for breath and covered in sweat.

“Fuck,” he uttered as Lorenzo’s hand raked up his chest until fingers were able to trace the line of his jaw.

The phone began to vibrate, then buzz.

“It’s charged and finally picking up a signal,” said Lorenzo, reaching over to the small table next to the bed, picking it up, and handing it to Jerry.

Jerry unlocked the screen, one solid black until he raked his finger across it and looked at the list of messages.

“OH fuck.”

“What is it,” asked Lorenzo.

“There’s two messages from Preston, one from dad; shit, two more from Preston.”

“Call him, now.”

“I am,” Jerry replied as he hit Preston’s name and waited for the call to go through.

“Jerry, are you guys in Bhutan?”

“Yes, what’s the matter? Has something happened to dad?”

“He’s fine. Some of the guys are on their way to get him and the children and take them to the mountain.”

“What happened?”

“Some guys threatened them. They wanted to know where to find you.”

“Again?”

“Yes. We’re not sure who was behind it, but we have a team going in to investigate before the local police find out.”

“Where are you?”

“We’re in DC. We’ll leave in the morning right after our meeting.”

“We’re going to pack up and fly back—”

“Jerry, hold up. Don’t come back just yet. Wait until we get more information. I’ll call you tomorrow after we get back and talk with the local team. You’re probably in the second safest place in the world for no one will think to look there.”

“Okay but call us as soon as you know something.”

“Will do,” said Preston, then after a brief pause. “Jerry, your dad is okay, as are the children. Relax and rest up, then you two can come back in the next day or so. I’ll arrange for a flight—”

“No, I’ll fly us back; it’ll be faster.”

“Okay, but at night. You have to fly at night.”

“I’ll time it to stay in the dark.”

Escape

Sam sat behind the wheel looking into the sky, watching for the plane. The children sat behind him talking quietly amongst themselves, all of them still scared after what happened. None more so than Isidore, who sat quietly right behind Sam.

“Sam, how long do we have to sit here?” said Violeta.

Sam turned and smiled at the children, all of them suddenly silent waiting on his response.

“Not long. I know just sitting here makes it feel like a long time, but we’ve only been here about fifteen minutes. Zoelie, why don’t you read something to everyone to pass the time.”

Sam had taken his time leaving San Juan, circling the city as Reece had shown him to look for a tail. Once he was satisfied no one was following them, he then headed toward the north side of town to pick up Highway 40. He drove for about twenty minutes north of the last signs of development, pulling off on a dirt and gravel road far enough from the highway so as not to draw attention. Now he watched the sky as Zoelie read aloud to the rest of the children.

He saw a black dot, then gradually it came into focus until he knew it was the plane. It swung over them, turned around and landed in front of the van. The children were excited, exclaiming all kinds of assumptions about the plane that had landed to pick them up, and Sam knew they had no idea what was really sitting there with fans spooling down. As the door swung open on the plane, Sam climbed out of the van, telling the children to get their belongings and follow him.

Reese came out first followed by Wesley and Bobby. Sam smiled, for Bobby had been good with the children when he visited. Not as good as Jerry or Liam, but Bobby would have a calming effect and he was glad to see Violeta, Sofia, and Beleta run by him as they rushed up to Bobby, knowing they had a crush on.

“Everyone good?” yelled Reece from his position out from the plane, rifle in hand.

“We’re good,” exclaimed Bruno, and Sam nodded in agreement. Reece nodded back, then turned to the highway watching the two cars and truck parked, no doubt watching the mysterious plane.

“Let’s go, we have too many eyes on us,” yelled Reece.

“Come on children, get on board and buckled up,” said Wesley. He turned to Bobby. “Go on, help them get buckled in. I’ll help the others get on board.”

Once everyone was on the plane, buckled in with the door closed, it lifted off, spraying the van with dirt and debris, then it swung around and flew north as a diversion to those watching them. They climbed until the cabin pressurized for the second time, then they made a wide arc to the west, out over Chile then back to the mountain.

A Change of Plans

Chester entered the room first looking upset, and Matthew Washington grimaced wondering what was wrong. He gave a small shake of the head to his two assistants sitting to his right as a heads up to something was wrong.

Eli and Liam came in next, both silent, looking as upset as Chester. Robert and Preston came in last.

“I think its bullshit too, but we don’t know who is behind it,” said Robert, cutting Matthew, then his two assistants, a hard stare.

“I don’t care who is behind it, it is no coincidence they moved when we were gone,” said Preston. As Robert took a seat next to Chester, Preston remained standing, commanding everyone’s attention. “Do you know who did it?” looking straight at Matthew.

“Whoa, did what?”

“Really, this is how we’re going to proceed?”

“Hold up. What are you talking about?”

 “A group of men attacked Sam Norwood and the children in his care, threatening to kill them if Sam didn’t reveal Jerry’s location.”

“What?” Matthew exclaimed, then he turned to his assistants. “Do we have anything on this?”

“No, nothing,” the woman replied.

“Malcolm, check with the Epperson and see what they know.”

“Gene Epperson? At the CIA?” said Malcolm.

“Yes, go, do it now,” said Matthew, then he turned to Preston. “Please, give us time check on this. When did it happen; what can you tell us.”

Preston sat down in the chair next to Matthew looking across the table at the two assistants.

“Preston, this is Emily Bauman and that is Malcolm Zeller going to find out what the CIA knows. You can trust them.”

“Can I trust you?”

“We didn’t have anything to do with what happened, but we’ll help get resolution any way we can.”

“Even if they are in NSA or the CIA?”

“Especially if they are within our organization. Emily, bring them up to speed on where we’re at.”

“We’ve culled over ten percent of our staff that had any kind of ties to rogue elements that have connections to what has happened or groups of a similar nature. There have been twenty arrests in NSA of a national security nature and twice as many in the CIA. We’re currently watching several groups and a few men who had ties to Eric Pritchard, and as you know none more so than Leon Gordon Eriksson.”

“That is a good start,” said Preston, and everyone could hear a relaxing in his tone.

“Now will you tell us what happened with Samuel Norwood?” said Matthew.

Preston looked around at Robert who had coordinated with Reece on what they knew. Robert cleared his throat, then began to tell them everything they knew, leaving out the details of how each one met their demise.

“Do you have the bodies so we can identify them?” said Emily.

“No, that won’t be possible,” said Robert.

“Did the local authorities get them? If so, we can—”

“No, there are no bodies to examine. They’re gone.”

“Gone?”

“Emily,” said Matthew. He sat back and looked at Robert then over to Preston. “I take it there was a response to the attack that was unconventional.”

“Something like that,” said Robert.

Matthew looked at Preston, still stoic, still looking like he could walk out any minute, giving nothing away. Matthew looked to Chester and saw the usual jovial old man staring straight ahead at the table also revealing nothing. Matthew sighed, then turned to Emily.

“Set up communications with Preston so we can trade information.”

“What about security. They have no clearances, and—”

“Emily. If the truth is known, they’re in our systems already, and trust me, if they wanted to cause us trouble, they would have done it already.”

“I have a question,” said Preston.

Matthew looked around surprised; it was Preston who was speaking up. “Yes, what is it?”

“We’re thinking that Norton and Boyd out of the picture may not be enough. Eriksson needs to be taken off the board as well.”

“We don’t have enough actionable intel to bring him in,” said Matthew.

“Besides, Eriksson is in Greece,” said Emily.

“Greece?” said Robert.

Preston leaned forward, arms resting on the table. “What if he were to be taken into custody and held for a time, until things blow over. Would one of your agencies be able to hold him if Eriksson is brought in?”

Matthew leaned back and smiled. “You can bring him in.”

“If you’ll house him and feed him and keep his ass out of the way until we can deal with Schafer. Schafer is the one. He’s the money and the one on a mission.”

“He does have ties to neo-Nazi groups,” said Emily.

“It runs in his family all the way back to the beginning,” said Jonathan.

“Can you get him without it turning into a circus.”

“We can snatch him like a thief in the night,” said Preston with a grin.

“Emily, get set up for a guest. I’m thinking we use the facility in Guam.”

“Guam?” said Emily. “It’s not the most secure site.”

“But it is the most out of the way place, and I think Preston’s team could have our guest there very quickly.”

“How quick can you be ready?” said Preston.

“Emily?” said Matthew.

“We have no assets on the ground there, so we’ll need 24 to 36 hours.”

Give us Eriksson’s location and we’ll have him there in 36 hours,” said Preston. “I’ll have Jonathan coordinate with you. Now if you’ll excuse us, we need to get back before something else happens in our absence,” said Preston.

“I understand, but Preston, on the African issue, we need to stay in touch. We may require your particular abilities.”

Preston took a cellphone out of his pocket and slid it across the table to Matthew. Matthew recognized the model, one used in the field by special forces and the CIA. It was a very special phone, and how Preston came into possession of the technology, he had no idea, but he wasn’t surprised, not after seeing the two planes DOJ swore had destroyed land in front of the Capitol.

“There is only one number saved in it, and it goes directly to me. Don’t bother trying to trace it.”

“Any phone can be traced—” said Emily until Preston cut her off.

“Yes, if the connection lasts long enough. But if we detect any attempt to locate us, the connection will end, permanently.”

Matthew laughed as he picked up the cellphone. “Message received Mr. Crawford.”

“Are the grounds secured?” said Preston.

“Yes, you’re good to take off.”

 

Once Preston and his group were gone, Matthew turned to Emily who was checking her laptop for information about the incident in Argentina.

“Anything?”

“No, sir. Nothing. You want us to contact Secretariat of Intelligence in Argentina?”

“No, keep them out of this or it’ll be troublesome for Preston and his group. I wouldn’t’ want them really upset with us.”

“Well, I think we can handle Preston and his boys.”

Matthew grimaced, knowing Emily meant well, displaying the attitude they were almost invincible, but he knew otherwise.

“Emily, do you remember that classified report on debris turning up on the moon?”

“Yes, sir. What about it?”

“The person who did it was in this room and could have put us somewhere…hell anywhere or nowhere.”

“A person did it, someone who was in this room?”

Matthew heard the disbelief. He knew how it sounded.

“Once we’re past this shitstorm and hopefully we have better relations with Preston and his group, we’ll be able to find out everything they are capable of. I feel like there is a lot they are holding back, and knowing what I do…”

Matthew didn’t know what to say, for he didn’t know what he really knew. It was insane, but then he had seen Liam simply vanish and was told Liam had gone into another dimension. An ability that had not long ago left a crater in NYC and put a portion of some secret medical facility on the moon. A facility he had yet to locate. There were so many secrets around them, and he knew it started with Chester Anderson, someone who had so many profiles, so many false fronts, and missing accounts, he might as well be a ghost. It was how some of the old timers at the CIA referred to him. And yet, Chester was always in the public eye until recently, when they up and disappeared. The most reliable sources said Chile, but others said Argentina, and Ted in his section swore it had to be somewhere in the Amazon, maybe at the lost City of Z. A nutty suggestion, but at this point nothing could be ruled out. With Sam Norwood being in San Juan, Argentina, or had been, his bet was Argentina. But the speed of their planes, not to mention Wesley and Liam’s ability, they could be hiding anywhere in the world.  

Our Villian

 The wind blew across the Indian Ocean warm and gentle as the Ein Neuer Anfang cut through the waves. The ship was supposed to be a cruise ship, but a private accusation shifted its construction to something very different. At 1,188 feet in length and 211 feet in width, it was large for a private ship (yacht just doesn’t seem to be the right description) on the oceans. But it was more than just an obscene luxury for its owner. It was much more.

Franz Otto Schafer lay on the lounge on the upper deck looking at the horizon where the ocean met the sky. He had accomplished so much, but it wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough, and he felt frustrated by those he backed failing time and time again. He wondered what his grandfather would think if he were still alive. Would he see the success they had had since the great failure, the defeat of the Third Reich at the hands of the Allies. Or would he focus on their failures. Then there was his own father, a man who in his twenties when he was sent to Argentina before the war was over. Some knew Germany would lose and they had fallen back on a longer game plan. Franz wished he had known Josef Helmet Schafer, but he died during the war. No one knew exactly what happened, but his body had been found in Berlin with his throat slit. Some speculated it was someone who betrayed the cause. Hans Dieter Schafer, Josef’s son and Franz’s father, had searched all his life for the answer, only to die in Rio from cancer. The cruelty of it, Hans early death had hurt Franz. He had been sixteen, just a kid who had to learn about the movement to restore the great party from breaking into his father’s study and finding the files. Contacts, teams in the field working to subvert governments, sow the seeds of a new movement for the superior white race, and the accounts flush with money to fund everything. And once the African project was completed, there would be additional funds that insured operating capital for decades to come, plus a safe haven where they could operate without interference.

Franz was fifty-six, married with two boys, both of whom were in college, one in England and one in Germany. They would get their education then return to help build the new party.

Looking off to his starboard side, Franz saw one of the patrol boats. It was so far away it was just a dark silhouette and a white wake on the surface of the ocean. A glance at his watch and he saw it was near the time for him to make his rounds. It would take the rest of the day for the Ein Neuer Anfang was a large vessel, one built to his specifications that acted as his home, his office, and until certain nations were brought to heel, his country.

After the initial build out, leaving two thirds of the ship unfinished, it was sailed to southern Africa where it was dry docked once again to be completed. It had a helicopter landing pad, a boat launch, and militia staff quarters and training facilities built in the stern. Then it had the most important section, one sitting idle waiting for the subjects to be brought in. A research lab with operating rooms, laboratories, and holding cells, all designed to hold one of the boys Chester Anderson had hidden away. He only needed one of them for the scientist to dissect to learn the secrets of their abilities. They hoped to create a means of duplicating the abilities in others. The soldiers he could create would be unstoppable.

There were also staff and crew quarters, a huge dining room, sitting rooms, theaters, a gym, and fitness center and the section next to it and just behind Franz’s private quarters, was the living quarters of his associates and administrative staff, men and women who worked tirelessly to help him see his vision of a future where much of Europe, South America, and the United States were brought under the umbrella of the New Party, creating an oasis for the superior white races where they could purge the dirty bloods from their society. Franz didn’t think he was being zealous or greedy. He was just making the nations that had sympathetic people open their eyes to see the possibilities, and since he was the one financing everything, the one with the most detailed plan on achieving success, then it was only natural he would be First Emperor. Then one of his two sons would be next, maybe the oldest, Saxton, twenty-two and in graduate school. Saxton was ambitious and followed direction, but Franz worried about the boy’s initiative. It made him wonder if Edmond wouldn’t be the one who should take his place. Only nineteen and still in his freshman year, Edmond had a lot to learn, but…there was something about the boy that intrigued him, made him think Edmond might be more deserving than Saxton. It made him harder on the boy, pushing him to excel.

Climbing to his feet, Franz headed inside to make his rounds. He pulled out his cellphone and brought up Leon Eriksson’s number and hit send. It was time for an update and a little push to show the urgency of the situation. Leon’s men had fucked three opportunities to get him a subject, and he was growing impatient.

 

It was late, almost midnight, and Franz opened his laptop with the intention of checking in with Felix. Felix was the oldest and probably the next in line despite his reservations. Once they were past the messy parts of the operation and Felix graduated, they would work side by side. But it was Edmond that was more intelligent. The one who didn’t get ruffled by a mere problem but worked out a solution. How to fix a flat on his bicycle when just twelve and further from home than he was supposed to be. Or how to handle a teacher that had decided to make Edmond the example. The rich kid who the teacher deemed overly privileged and unworthy. Felix would have called him to fix the problem, but Edmond worked out his own way, one that took him over a month to find out about. He had wanted to berate the boy until he realized what it meant. Edmond was a problem solver and he had been mad that Felix wasn’t as capable.

Franz hit Edmond’s contact calling him up. It took only a couple of seconds and Edmond’s face was filling the screen.

“Father, how are you?”

“I’m good, son. And you?”

“Everything is good here. Where are you?”

“Sailing. Not sure where we are exactly. I guess I should check with the captain sometime,” said Franz making a joke to conceal the fact he didn’t want to tell Edmond his location, nor have it broadcast even if it were supposedly a secure link.

“Just being free?” said Edmond, smiling into the camera for his father.

“Yes, being free.  Son, I wanted to give you a head’s up. I’m going to need Felix and you to go to the house near Innsbruck, probably in the next couple of days.”

“For how long?”

“Just a week or so, I should think. I don’t think it will take long for me to establish control over the situation.”

Just for a second, Franz thought he saw Edmond grimace before smiling. But maybe it was the connection that was distorting Edmond’s image.

“Just let me know when to go. I’ll need to advise the university—”

“NO! Edmond, when I tell you, just pack up and go. We’ll deal with the university later. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“I need to go for I need to get some sleep. Take care son, and I’ll be in touch.”

Back in the Mountain

The top of the mountain was closing as Sam, Wesley, and Bobby helped the children gather their things. Reece was on the phone with Preston, giving him a synopsis of his debriefing with Sam.

“Preston the kid is only fourteen and from what Sam described, it sounds like the kid has…what do you call it? Matured? Whatever you call it, it sounds like Liam’s ability.”

‘I don’t think it is the same’

“Whatever it is, the kid won’t be messed with,” said Reece smiling at the thought of another joining the team with powers that conventional weapons were no match.

Reece ended the call, then called Jonathan. As the phone rang, he turned to see Bobby lead the last child off the plane.

 

Wesley rushed down the corridor feeling like he had been gone for days instead of less than twenty-four hours. He got to his room, one shared with Quinton, and rushed inside. The room was empty. Frustrated, he started to head back to the corridor, then turned to the bathroom. He eased the door open.

“Wesley?”

“There you are,” said Wesley.

“Come on in.”

Wesley entered the bath, passing the sinks, the shower, and turned to the alcove where the tub was located. Quinton was lying in it and Wesley looked at the familiar body visible in the crystal-clear water.

“I think you’ve been in there long enough,” said Wesley.

“Oh, really?”  said Quinton and the joking tone showed he knew what Wesley really wanted.

Quinton released the stopper, climbed to his feet with water trickling down his body. As he stepped out of the tub he reached for Wesley.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you,” said Wesley, taking the hand and walking backwards toward the door.

At the bed, Wesley playfully pushed Quinton on the bed then stripped out of his clothes. He moved down on the bed, crawling over Quinton until they could kiss. Hands rubbed over the other’s body then Wesley lay on Quinton grinding cock against cock until both were fully erect.

Wesley wanted their sex. He wanted to feel his cock inside Quinton. He wanted to feel Quinton inside his own body. He wanted both and more. He moved over the prone body, straddling the waist. He ground his ass down on the hard cock then rocked his hips back and forth, rubbing ass over cock.

“Fuck…Wesley,” uttered Quinton, the voice breathless and strained.

Wesley rose over the cock, held it up, and lowered his ass to it. He rocked back and forth over the drooling head, then eased down until it penetrated him. He moved on the cock, slowly, all the way down until seated on it, then up until it nearly slipped free. A steady rhythm that had Quinton pushing upward. Leaning forward, hands on Quinton’s chest, Wesley moved his ass faster, up and down until his own cock smacked wetly on Quinton’s stomach and his thighs quivered with his exertion. Then he leaned back until resting on his hands, and he worked his ass with a brutal pace, slamming down on Quinton’s hips, over and over, the sound of it echoing in the room.

“Jesus…I’m going to—”

Quinton shoved upward and came, shuddered with every ejaculation as he pumped it into Wesley’s depths. Then he watched Wesley sit on his cock and cum.

 

Bobby sat in the armchair he kept at the window that overlooked the interior atrium space. He dialed up Victor. They were still in a dating phase where Bobby held the team’s secrets close to chest.

“Hey, how was your trip?” said Victor as soon as he answered.

“Good. Just got back. What are you doing?”

 

The other plane arrived during the day, taking the risk of landing inside the mountain. Robert and Preston were the first off, still discussing their plans as they rushed inside. Chester stepped down next and looked across the landing pad toward Reece who nodded, a signal all was good, for now anyway. The others climbed down, following  Reece and Chester inside.

An Old Crush

Edmond drove up the mountain road, wipers on for it had been drizzling rain since he left Heidelberg at one that afternoon. It had taken him four hours to make the trip, longer than usual for he hit traffic below Stuttgart, then again at the border of Austria. He had made a quick stop in Innsbruck for supplies in case Felix had not arrived from Cambridge. It was a longer trip, but Felix would fly to Innsbruck’s airport and rent a car for the remainder of the drive to the mountain house.

He turned his Audi off the main road through the mountains to a narrow-paved road, one unmarked or signed, but one he had no trouble locating. He had been coming to the mountain house since he was six years old when his parents purchased the house from some friends of the family, his father always calling it their retreat. Now it earned the name, or so it seemed. He navigated the narrow twisting road up the mountain as it cut through the conifer forest.

About two thirds up the mountain, Edmond turned into a gravel drive and followed it to a bridge crossing a stream, where a gate prevented passage. He lowered his window and punched in the code to the keypad projecting out from the side of the road, then watched the gate slide to one side allowing him passage. He eased up the gravel road until finally in a small clearing just below a large Chalet House. The ground level was masonry construction with a white stucco finish. The second level was all wood construction with a wide thick roof and balconies and bay windows on each side. Edmond pulled in next to a white BMW with rental car plates and knew Felix had beat him to the house.

His suitcase and duffel bag in hand, Edmond made his way inside, taking off his shoes in the mudroom, then climbing the steps up a half level to the main floor. He passed through the kitchen seeing grocery bags sitting on the island, and entered the large living and dining room where a fire was burning in the fireplace and Felix was playing video games.

“You finally made it,” said Felix.

“I had been in class, so my phone was off. It wasn’t until I got to the cafeteria for lunch, I noticed father had called. Do you know what is going on?”

“Yes, but father told me not to tell you.”

Felix always liked to show how father trusted him with secrets that were kept from him. He wanted to be mad about it, but then again, he kept his own secrets.

“What are you going to prepare for dinner,” said Felix, delegating the chore to him.

“I don’t know. Let me get cleaned up and I’ll see what the two of us bought and decide then.”

“I got filets back in Cambridge. Cook those and something to go with it. Damn,” said Felix turning his attention back to the game on the television where his character just got killed.

 

The next morning, Felix sleeping in, Edmond went for a walk, hiking down the gravel road to the main highway, then turning to go higher up in the mountains. He told himself he was just keeping away from traffic, but he knew the truth was more complicated. About five hundred meters up the road was a farmhouse where a family grew vegetables and raised sheep. In particular interest to Edmond was Henri, the son that was a year younger. Since he had been fifteen and Henri only fourteen, he felt something toward the boy that scared him.

Edmond never dared to think Henri would ever return his affections, but there had been that weekend just before he was to enter university. He had come upon Henri moving sheep across the road and for a moment it seemed Henri wanted Edmond to come with him as he moved the sheep to another pasture on the mountain side. Edmond remembered the look, one of such longing, he had regretted not going with Henri. But his fear of being found out was overwhelming.

But it was just Felix and him at the house. There mother was in Switzerland and their father was sailing somewhere in the Indian Ocean, or that is where he thought his father was sailing. He really wasn’t sure. What this meant was he had an opportunity to try to connect with Henri.

The farmhouse came into view, walls of stone and a heavy timber roof with large overhangs sitting down over them. Smoke rose from the two chimneys, and to the side of the house, out in the pasture Edmond saw there were no sheep. It meant they were across the road in the higher pasture. He went up the lane through the woods until it came out in the upper pasture, and Edmond saw the sheep grazing slowing along the slope, and up at a small stone ruin, something Henri had said was an old barn site, Henri sat watching over them.

As Edmond hiked up the gradual slope, Henri waved, then started down to meet him. It made him smile to see the old friend who seemed not to have changed. The same Henri he had hung out with over a year ago.

“Edmond, you’re finally back.”

“Henri, I see you’re still a shepherd,” Edmond replied with a jovial tone.

“Of course. The sheep don’t harass me.”

Edmond hugged Henri feeling the younger man’s arms around him. And Henri was a man. A scruffy beard, a muscular body within the clothing that was taller than his own five foot ten. Henri pulled back holding him by the shoulders.

“You’ve not changed a bit, old friend.”

Edmond knew it was true. He still had the same boyish face and lean body. Where Henri looked like a man in his twenties despite being eighteen, he knew he looked like the teenager that could be sixteen or seventeen, but too young looking to be nineteen, despite the fact it was his age.

“Shouldn’t you be at university?” said Henri.

“Something came up in the family so Felix and I are at the mountain house.”

“Felix is with you. Sorry to hear.”

Edmond knew something had happened between them a couple of years ago, something Henri wouldn’t discuss, and he dared not ask Felix.

“Well, the house is big enough we don’t have to be underneath each other.”

“Come, let’s go sit down,” said Henri, leading Edmond up to the ruins.

Edmond looked across the mountain side at the grazing sheep, envious in a way of the simplicity of a life like Henri’s. This isolation from all that was happening in the world. He wondered if he could live such a life, knowing he would take the opportunity if granted him.

“Henri, have you found yourself a girl?”

It was a question he had mulled over all the way up. Was Henri seeing someone, knowing it would hurt a bit for him to be doing so. But he wouldn’t be angry with Henri, for everyone should pursue whatever happiness they could find.

“No.”

Edmond looked down to prevent Henri from seeing him smile should he look back.

“I’ve not found the right person. Or when I think I have, I find I’m wrong,” said Henri.

Henri sat down on a section of foundation wall, where the stone was worn smooth on top by the ages. He patted the place next to him, and Edmond sat down.

“So, there was someone who captured your interest? Who was it?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Henri, you can tell me. I won’t make fun. I promise.”

Henri whistled at the dogs and watched them herd a few sheep that had started to roam too far. Without turning to Edmond, he sighed, then replied.

“You.”

Edmond didn’t think he heard right, for it would be too good to be true. Nothing ever went his way, and there was no way Henri would have feelings for him, not in the same way. No way. But he had heard the reply, one he had to respond before too many seconds went by.

“Seriously? It was me. That makes me…so happy.”

“What?”

“I had a crush on you for such a long time. But I was terrified to admit it. If Felix found out, or worse my father…it would be very bad.”

“I know your father’s reputation.”

“He shames me.”

“But you liked me?”

“Henri, I still do.”

Edmond felt the shivering from his fears. He looked at Henri with such longing but was frozen in place, unable to move. What if became a real thing and he didn’t know how to respond. But Henri knew how to respond, leaning toward him, closer and closer. He closed his eyes, waiting for the contact.

 

Despite the cold, clothes lay piled on the ground and on top, Henri moved over Edmond. His muscular body undulated, hips working to pump cock deep into Edmond’s depths. Edmond lay on his back, legs wrapped around the narrow waist with feet tucked between the muscular thighs. He felt the power of the body, its strength, as it took his virginity, then gave him such pleasure, he could not consider the future. Only this moment, one desired so much he had ached for it. Now he clung to Henri feeling the fullness of the penetration as his own cock drooled on his stomach.

“Henri,” Edmond uttered breathlessly.

Lips kissed his neck, up to the right ear where they tugged on the earlobe. And cock pumped inside him with a steady slow pace. Lips moved along his smooth jaw, nipping at the flesh, kissing it, until the lips finally pressed down on his own once again. Henri’s tongue entered his mouth and he sucked on it as he had done Henri’s cock earlier. Hands held his own down, pinning them to the ground as hips ground against his ass and pushed cock into his depths.

The hands released his own, and Henri shifted, took his legs behind the knees, and folded him over until his thighs were tight to his chest and his ass angled up for Henri’s fuck. Cock bored back into his depths and Henri began to fuck. Harder, faster, desperation made manifest until the sound of flesh smacking against flesh echoed over the mountain.

“Fuck. Fuck. Don’t stop,” Edmond cried out.

Henri pushed against his legs rising over him. He looked up at the sweaty face, the flush skin, the eyes that stared back.  Then he felt it, Henri’s push into his depths and resume their fuck. Hips bounced off his upturned ass, over and over until he thought he would come.

“Edmond!” Henri exclaimed.

Edmond felt the shuddering body, how it pushed and pushed against his ass trying to get deeper inside him. He knew Henri was coming and he clutched at their clothing beneath him as he took every ejaculation.

 

“Let me,” said Henri.

Henri had barely pulled out of him, when Henri was straddling his waist. His own cock was so hard it flexed and drooled more precum onto his stomach. It flexed again at the feel of Henri taking it, holding it up while lowering down to it. Edmond moaned and fought to lay still as Henri’s ass pressed down on the head. Then he felt the squeeze as Henri’s tight ass slipped over the head. He shivered with the feel of it. As the ass moved down his cock he moaned. He watched every inch of his cock disappear inside Henri until completely buried inside him.

“Fuck,” Edmond whispered.

“FUCK!” Henri yelled, then he looked down at Edmond. “No one is here to hear you,” and he smiled. Then he began to move. Up, down, building up a steady rhythm.

Edmond held each ankle as Henri rode his cock. He had been so aroused by being fucked, and this new sensation was even more arousing. He began to push up as Henri moved down. Henri looked down at him, smiled, then leaned back holding his ass over his hips.

“Fuck me,” said Henri.

Edmond worked his hips, pumping his cock upward into Henri’s ass. He fucked fast, then slow, varying his pace. But far too soon, he wanted to cum; needed to cum. He pushed up harder and harder until smacking against Henri’s ass until he was shuddering with release. He pumped every wad into Henri and kept pumping his hips until cum trickled down his cock, and he fell still gasping for breath.

Henri moved around and lay next to him, fingers moving over his chest, upward until raking up his neck.

“That was nice,” said Henri.

“Yes. I didn’t want it to end.”

“Nor I.”

They kissed. Gently. Passionately. No longer afraid to express themselves to each other.

 

Edmond walked down the road heading back to the mountain house. He felt his body tighten, the looseness and relaxed sense he had had with Henri was going away. He knew it was because he was going to be questioned by Felix and sooner or later, he would need to lie. It was important to keep as much of the truth as possible to make the lie believable and easy for him to tell. Otherwise, Felix would see it, the lie written across his face.

Felix was standing on the balcony of the library watching him walk up the gravel lane. As he neared the side entrance, Felix went back inside. Coat hung up, boots set beneath the bench, Edmond went up the steps to the main level to find Felix in the kitchen.

“Where have you been?”

“I went for a hike then went up to the Steiner’s to see Henri.”

“He’s not at university?”

“He’s not going. He works on their farm.”

Edmond heard Felix scoff. He knew it was a judgment of Henri, considering a life on a farm as a waste, when he should be in finance or government, or in a position to influence both, like their father.

“He loves it.”

“I’m sure that der Bauernlummel does.”

Edmond winced at the slur but said nothing as he went to the refrigerator for something to drink.

“What are you going to prepare for dinner,” said Felix.

“I thought I’d heat up the maultaschen you bought at the store.”

“Sounds good to me,” Felix replied, then strolled out of the kitchen.

Edmond looked over his shoulder at the empty doorway then exhaled.

The Intruder

Reinhard stood atop of the low mountain, looking across the valley with the American military night goggles, then down to the map looking for the one marked in red. He adjusted his pack. It was an old-style backpack, external frame and appeared massive compared to the newer internal frame models. But it held a lot, which was important for his mission. Using night binoculars, he scanned the mountain peaks and ridges, going from north to south, until he came to the lower mountain, the one that looked like a dead volcano with its flat top and by the map, it was actually a cratered top. It was a day’s hike at least, and Reinhard put the binoculars and map into the side pocket he could reach, then drank enough water to quench his thirst.

Working down the mountain, following an old path, Reinhard made his way toward his destination, careful with each step. The night goggles gave him a good view of the ground, but he remained cautious for a misstep could prove fatal since no one knew of his location and he had no cellphone, not even identification on him.

He had been contacted a year ago, pulled from the training facility and given a new training program, one that involved how to handle what he was carrying in the backpack. Carl had given him no reason for the change, but three months ago the American showed up. Leon Eriksson, the man who spelled it all out. Reinhard knew Eriksson was just the money behind the plan, not the brains, for he overheard Carl and him mention another, one only mentioned in secrecy. Someone he only knew by a first name having never heard a full name when referenced at the training camp. Hans.

But Reinhard knew the stories, of how this Hans was going to bring back the empire. One for those deserving and of the superior race. There would be no more reason to feel ashamed of his ancestors having to flee Germany and come to Argentina to live. He was disgusted by how Germany treated his ancestors and viewed them in this modern time with its misguided ideals of democracy and all are equal. It was a filthy thought, that he of pure ancestry, was no better than those he was surrounded by.

At the bottom of the mountain, Reinhard made his way through the low vegetation that survived in the arid terrain until at the foot of the mountain that was his destination. As he climbed up the rocky side, he replayed his mission, going over every detail. There were air vents tucked in the mountain somewhere, there had to be, and he just needed to find one large enough for him to gain access and repel down into.

He was to get inside the facility within the mountain, lay a network of charges in areas that looked structural, and if he found air conditioning or main electrical systems, he would lay charges on them. The goal was to render the facility inoperable. To destroy would take a force they couldn’t risk. For reasons Reinhard didn’t know, the mission required a lone soldier, someone who could get in, plant the bombs, then get out, denoting everything before sunset the next day. A glance at his watch showed he had less than six hours to find an access point before sun rise, then he had most of the day to make his way around the facility. There were no diagrams or plans for the interior, nothing to go on except he knew the cater concealed a landing facility, for helicopters or maybe those tilt-roto planes, and that facility was his number one target.

A Futile Gesture

“Leon Eriksson is in Greece at this villa,” said Liam pointing at the map of islands that were part of Greece. Mountainous, jagged coastlands, there was no rhythm to the layout. Liam had his finger on the island in question, one below Naxos where a stark white villa sat on the arid terrain of low shrubs and grasses on the eastern side away from the small villages and towns that lie on the western and southern sections. “This one here?”

“Yes, that is it. Matthew gave us satellite reconnaissance that showed him arriving back at the villa just a couple of hours ago.”

“Do you think taking Eriksson will disrupt Schafer’s plans?”

“I really don’t know, but the more assets we take from him, hopefully it gets harder to execute his plans.”

“Why don’t I just go take Schafer.”

“We’re not sure of his location. We think he is aboard some vessel, but some say he is in North Korea, and others say he is in Africa. If we move on him and miss him—”

“He’ll go deeper underground.”

“Yes.”

“So, for now I’m to take Eriksson to Guam.”

“That’s right. They have everything set up. Ask for Emily Bouman.”

“Okay, I’m out of here,” said Liam, and with one step back, he was gone.

 

Leon stood on the terrace; the night sky brilliant with stars. He could hear the waves crash against the rocky coastline and feel the saltiness of the wind blowing from it. He sipped the whiskey seeking its calming effects. The call with Franz had pissed him off. The fool didn’t understand the logistics of what he asked for. Had he read one report of the operations to snatch one of those brats. He doubted it for Franz consider himself so superior he could never be wrong.

He turned to go inside hearing the girls giggling and splashing around the large tub. It was time to join them for the whiskey wasn’t working and maybe a good fuck would do the trick.

Just before he got to the open double doors a shimmering light appeared, some reflection, and he looked around to see if someone was playing tricks on him. When he turned back around a young man stood before him.

“Leon Gordon Eriksson?”

“Yes, but who are you?”

“Your transportation to prison.”

“What?” Leon uttered trying to make sense of the foolish reply. Then he felt it, some charge in the air. The hair on his arms and neck stood up, then suddenly he was in some black void, then he saw the surface of the ocean, shorelines, cities, night, day, sky, then land, an island.

Leon blinked and found himself standing in a crude concrete block room. A woman and two soldiers stood in front of him.

“Leon Eriksson, you are under arrest and shall be held for terrorist activities against the United States and a host of other crimes. You’ll be held here until our government decides to put you on trial,” said the woman. She didn’t turn her head, just stared at Leon with a serious expression. “Okay guys, take Mr. Eriksson to his cell.”

Nothing Goes as Planned

Jonathan was going over the response plan as Preston paced back and forth behind him. To his left was the security staff on duty, Jean, an ex-Marine and once within the CIA. She was going over the mountain defense system with Reece looking over her shoulder.

“What’s that?” said Reece.

“It’s vent shaft 8. The censor has been acting up and a security detail is going to repair it as soon as we get the part for it,” said Jean.

“How come I was not aware of this?”

“I was and did the order for the sensor this morning,” said Jonathan, looking over then back to his monitor.

“But it was working a minute ago.”

“It comes and goes,” said Jean.

“I’m going to check it out.”

“Reese, it’s the censor,” said Jonathan.

“Can you state that as hard cold fact?”

“No,” said Jonathan, and he grimaced seeing Reece’s point. “Okay, go have a look.”

As Reece left the room, Jonathan turned to Preston.

“We just got a message from Matthew Washington in DC. He has gotten intel of movement in Africa, and a message they’re not sure what part of it means.”

“Did he send it to us?”

“Yes, I’m pulling it up now.”

Preston came up behind Jonathan bending down closer so he could read the message when it popped up on the monitor.

The volcano will erupt, and it’ll be time to topple the dominoes.

The volcano…” uttered Preston, then Jonathan and he looked at each other with surprise. “Alert security to be on the alert, increase surveillance around the mountain and notify the gang.”

“I’m on it.”

Preston pulled out his comm for inner mountain communication. “Reece, come in.”

“Reece here; what’s up?”

“I think we’re being targeted. Get out there with security and let’s hope it is that damn sensor.”

Preston paced the room, then turned to Jonathan.

“I think we need to evacuate most personnel. Sam and the children too.”

“Use one of the planes, or use one of the trucks?”

“Use a plane; get them out of here.”

“Should we send them to our safe house?”

“Yes.”

 

The landing pad doors were opening, slowly sliding back as Preston and Jonathan watched from the observation deck. Sam and the children were hustled out to one of the planes with a detail of security set to go with them. From another door, Robert led Chester, Elizabeth, and Helen toward the plane. The staff were rushing to their positions preparing for full evacuation, but there were no alarms blaring. Only comms was used to alert crew and staff, for a blaring alarm would alert any intruder too.

“What’s taking Reece so long?” said Preston as he watched the doors close on the plane while the fans spooled up.

“Number eight is a bitch to get to, but he should be there shortly.”

Liam appeared next to Preston.

“What going on?”

“We may have an intruder. We know we’re being targeted. Can you search the mountain for anyone who’s not supposed to be here?”

“Yes; it won’t take long. If I find anyone, what do you want me to do?”

“Get them out of here.”

Liam nodded, hearing the frustration and anger. He knew Preston wanted results and wanted it now. He stepped back one step and as he took the next slipped out of space, disappearing.

“Preston.” It was Reece on the comm.

“What have you found?” Preston replied.

“We’ve got company. A man’s coat and hiking boots are laying by the vent and there is rope for repelling secured to it.”

“Fuck! We have Liam looking for him and will take care of the problem. Get back inside and hope he finds whoever it is quickly before they do something we all regret.”

“On our way.”

Preston turned to watch the plane with Chester, Elizabeth, Robert, Helen, Sam, and the children rise from the landing pad. It cleared the doors that were still sliding back, rotated one hundred eighty degrees, then accelerated away.

“Let’s get the guys into the other plane,” said Preston looking over at Jonathan. “And you too. I need you in the air.”

Jonathan knew Preston meant those without the power to escape on their own. The boyfriends and Catalina, Dae-Jung, and Bobby. He would leave by helicopter to be the last to leave, shutting down the systems and destroying computer systems. He’d fly to San Juan and take one of the Gulf Stream jets and go to the safe house.

 

Liam hovered in the other dimension looking at all aspects of the mountain. Rooms within rooms from different angles, all at once, looking for someone that didn’t belong. He saw a guy moving through the upper mechanical chase, jogging down a catwalk toward their private quarters. Liam stepped forward onto the catwalk in front of the man.

“You need to stop.”

The man came to a stop looking at Liam as if he were a monster. He backed up, one step, then another.

“I need you to stop,” said Liam and he stepped toward the man at the same slow pace.

“No,” the man uttered and suddenly he was holding something and pressing on it.

“NO!” Liam yelled, then he closed the man into a sphere of space and shifted him into another dimension. But it was too late. A shuddering occurred in the mountain, then another.

The first explosion caused one of the landing pad doors to break free of its track, dangle in the air, rocking back and forth, then crash to the floor crushing the plane. The next explosion took out the air conditioning system, smoke billowing out of some ducts. The next three were over crew quarters, the dining hall, and a storehouse, places where no one was currently located due to the alert.

 

Liam fought with his rage, tempted to the put the man into the sun’s surface, but he swung through the dimensions until he was inside Matthew Washington’s private office, finding him at his desk. He slid into the three-dimensional realm surprising Matthew, then he slid a very frightening man into the office. Pants wet and shaking uncontrollably, the man fell to the floor.

“He planted bombs in our facility.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Liam, right?”

“Yes.”

“We’ll take care of him.”

“I have to go,” said Liam, taking a step backwards slipping from visible space.

Matthew picked up his phone while looking at the place Liam had been standing. “Security; I need two men in my office now.” He was shaking, for it was disturbing how easily Liam could enter a room then slip out of it. At least he didn’t piss his pants like the man on the floor.

 

Preston moved down a corridor next to Jonathan, covering their mouths when passing through smoke. Others were rushing along with them, all headed toward the passage that led to the surface garage and helicopter.

“Get Wesley, Liam, and Jerry to Africa. This has to be a diversion.”

“I agree,” said Jonathan.

“Nothing changes in the plan. You said Matthew Washington got what they need stashed in Egypt. They go there and work down through the five nations.”

“On it. Preston, I’ll take one of the Gulf Streams and as many as it’ll hold and fly toward the safe house. It’ll let me keep in communication with the guys while everything plays out.”

“You won’t get to the jet before they are finished,” said Preston.

“You’re right.”

Discovery

It was risky, but Edmond didn’t care. What if Felix found out Henri was in his room. What if he discovered his little brother was gay and having sex with Henri. What could he do? He couldn’t think of it, had no space within to consider the consequences, when Henri was moving over him, within him, whispering into his ear, kissing his neck, satisfying his need for another.

Edmond lay on his back, knees pressed into the bed either side of his chest, and his ass turned up taking every thrust into his depths. He moaned and pleaded with Henri to fuck him. To fuck him harder. He clutched at the bed and grunted when hips banged against his ass.

Opening his eyes, Edmond looked up at Henri. Masculine Henri with the firm pecs and stomach ripped with muscle as it undulated over him. He looked into the blue eyes wondering if he looked the same to Henri. He hoped so.

“Fuck,” uttered Henri as he pushed into Edmond all the way and ground his hips against the upturned ass.

Henri was moving, the weight of him no longer holding down Edmond’s legs.

“Roll over,” said Henri.

Edmond rolled to his stomach and felt the larger, more muscular body lay on his back, cock pressed against his ass and lip touching his neck.

“God, I’ve missed you so much,” whispered Henri.

“And I missed you,” said Edmond.

Henri rose over Edmond and quickly penetrated him again. He pushed into Edmond’s depths and began to fuck. The bed rocked and squeaked beneath them as Henri built up his pace until hammering Edmond’s ass. He bearhugged Edmond and fucked. He kissed the neck, along the smooth jaw until Edmond turned to bring their lips together as best they could, and he fucked.

Henri fucked until their bodies were hot against each other and sweat made skin slick. Henri fucked until Edmond was pushing his ass upward trying to get cock deeper inside him. Then Henri cried out and came.

 

Edmond lay on his back with Henri riding his cock. Up, down, the muscular body moved on him. He rubbed his hands up the flexing thighs feeling the strength within them. He ran his hands over the stomach and chest feeling the hot slick skin. He sat up, hugging Henri to him, and he felt Henri’s cock, still fully erect, slide slickly up his stomach.

“Henri,” Edmond uttered, and he came as Henri moved on his spurting cock.

“What the fuck is this!”

 

Felix stood at the door wearing a robe that hung open revealing boxers beneath. He had woken up and caught them. Henri moved to the side of Edmond, staying on his knees looking at Felix with fear, for Felix was brandishing a pistol.

“Felix! No,” said Edmond as he pulled at the blanket to wrap it around himself. He intended to go to his brother, confess to him he was gay, that it was okay, not to panic. He started to climb off the bed when a shot rang out and Henri spun around and fell over the side of the bed.

“NO!” cried Edmond, and he turned to Felix. “What are you doing?”

“What I should have done a long time ago. I knew you were weak. Father knew it too,” said Felix as he aimed the gun at Edmond.

“No,” Edmond whispered and suddenly Felix was in a sphere of shimmering light. Then he was gone.

 

Edmond rushed around the bed and found Henri trying to sit up. Blood was running between the fingers of Henri’s right hand where he held it tight to his stomach.

“You’re shot.”

“Edmond, what did you do?”

“Not now, we need to get you to hospital.”

“But Felix…where is he?”

Edmond finally stopped and looked at Henri with tears in his eyes. “I don’t know.”

“Edmond, how?”

“I don’t know that either. But Henri, we must go. Let me help you get dressed and we’ll get to hospital.”

 

Edmond knew it was risky, but he was scared, for Henri was bleeding a lot. It soaked the tail of his shirt despite the towel held to the gun shot wound. There was a hospital in Innsbruck, near the river, and he had Henri stand next to him, putting his arms around his neck to make sure they were connected. He stepped into that realm, the one that allowed him to see all places within and without. He focused his mind, picturing the hospital then the emergency entrance, and he stepped them out onto the sidewalk.

A couple of people moved away from them; others circled wide around. A policeman came running over. Edmond didn’t wait to see what he had to say, instead he rushed Henri inside yelling for help, that Henri had been shot.

Africa

Wesley and Jerry flew to the rendezvous site where Matthew’s team had the bombs ready for them.

“These work as we discussed?” asked Wesley. He knew the use of bombs was a tactic, one meant to be loud and showing those involved they were going to fail.

“Yes, sir, each bomb has this putty that allows them to stick to anything. Just peel this film off and slap it to the tank or plane,” said the soldier holding out the backpacks.

“And the remotes for denotating them?”

“I have those,” said a man dressed casually for the heat, straw hat, linen shirt and khaki shorts. “You’ll need to be within a mile to trigger the bombs.”

“Not a problem. Jerry, you ready,” said Wesley slinging the backpack over his shoulders.

“Yes, let’s do this,” Jerry replied.

Wesley smiled to reassure him for he heard the nervousness in the voice.

“There’s nothing to worry about. We fly in fast, too fast for them to really see us, slap a few of these on our targets and set them off. It’ll be like July 4th, only in Africa.”

“Yeah, right,” Jerry replied, this time smiling.

Wesley and Jerry stood apart as the soldiers moved away. Then they lifted off so fast as to seem to disappear.

“Jesus, this is insane,” said one of the soldiers, looking around at Matthew’s man.

“You don’t know the half of it. Let’s get packed up and out of here. This won’t take long.”

 

Jerry flew to Abyssinia where there were two camps he had to neutralize. He came to the first and hovered long enough to get his backpack set to drop a bomb in his hand when he needed it. He peeled the film from the first two bombs, then he flew, as fast as he could.

Flying over the ten tanks, Jerry slapped bombs on every third one in the place he had been shown. Then he turned and went by the military helicopters, slapping bombs near the fuel tanks. He turned and zipped over the mud and wood dwelling used as command, putting a bomb on the roof. Then he flew toward the south, triggering the bombs. He looked back, shocked to see the explosive power of the small bombs as tanks and helicopters burst into flames, some flying upward and landing on their sides. He saw the command structure reduced to rubble as foot soldiers ran in all directions.

A few seconds later, Jerry repeated the process at the other site, then he headed south toward South Soudani.

 

Wesley flew into Bantia, quickly finding the training camp. He slapped bombs on tanks, personnel carriers, a group of helicopters, and the Quonset huts lined along one side to camp, not sure which was command, so he targeted all of them. As he headed north, he triggered the bombs not looking back.

The other camp had soldiers preparing to pull out. Tanks were lining up on the road and helicopters were slowly starting up. He flew as fast as he could, peeling off the film and slapping a bomb on every other tank, each helicopter, personnel carrier, and the Jeep with what looked like their commander. As he headed north for Tonga, he triggered the bombs. The soldiers would have barely the time to recognize the bombs before they blew.

Tonga would be the same. Soldiers and their commanders preparing to pull out, vehicles in neat lines, helicopters slowly starting up. The results would be the same.

 

Liam hovered over the building in the city where the group was staging to strike out in the Capitol. It was the toughest mission, one within the urban fabric of the city. He wanted to just take the whole building, but the sphere needed would take far too much of the buildings around it. Instead, he had to look within the building and work out how to take portions of it, the spaces the men were strapping on ammunition and guns, putting on body armor, or checking timers on bombs.

He thought of the video conference with Matthew, how Zaire was the most stable of the countries, therefore the one Franz was going to attack the most ruthlessly. The intel suggested the main hospital, the college, and all the seats of government. A terrorist attack to push the country into chaos, ripe for overtaking.

 

Looking through the spatial realm of the building he located the teams, four in the basement, the remainder on the second floor, with their command on the top floor. The rest of the building was empty, rooms previously used by the teams as sleeping quarters until ready to do their attack.

Liam stepped into the realm between dimensions, hovering over the building. He took the top floor off, then the second floor in multiple spheres, knowing that would cause the building to collapse. It came down suddenly, the remaining three floors crashing down on the first, collapsing it until it was nothing, but rubble piled into the basement. The spaces he took were floating in orbit over the sun where its extreme heat quickly turned everything to particles less than ash.

 

Jerry landed on the roof of a building in Musina, South Africa, finding Liam standing at the parapet looking north.

“Everything go alright?” said Liam without turning.

“Yes. The camps are…neutralized.”

Liam heard the tone, one struggling with the moral complications in killing those that meant to kill.

“It’s a quandary,” said Liam.

“What is?”

“Having to take a life. I’ve never gotten used to it, and Eli…he is tormented by it the most.”

“How to do you deal with it?”

“I keep reminding myself what the alternative would have been and that some people are just very bad people.”

“Do you believe in…like evil?”

“Biblically? No. It’s just what men are capable of. How they justify it…” Liam let his words trail off.

Wesley landed and moved next to Liam.

“I checked each site. They are…”

“Neutralized. The word you’re looking for is neutralized,” said Liam, and he turned to Wesley and shook his head. “Nasty business, saving people from psychopaths.”

“You got that right?” said Jerry.

“I guess we regroup and figure out what to do about Schafer,” said Wesley.

“Why did they make us hold back?” said Jerry.

“Schafer wants one of us to experiment on and Preston and Reece didn’t want to risk it just yet, and Matthew Washington is still not sure Schater is on that ship of his or back in Europe, or somewhere else.”

“I could have found that out really quick,” said Liam.

“Yes, and hopefully we’ll do that after we regroup. Let’s get to the safe house, shall we?” said Wesley.

“Sam and the children are already there,” said Liam.

“What about the others?” said Jerry.

“On their way. They’re in the Gulfstreams so it’ll take a little time,” said Wesley.

“I could have gotten them,” said Liam.

“But Preston and Reece wanted the planes close to have all options available to us.”

“So, that’s it?” said Liam.

“I guess it’s time to go,” said Jerry.

“Yep. Let’s go,” said Liam and he slipped the three of them into the other realm, then they stepped out onto a narrow lane on a lush rolling terrain lush with meadows and trees. To their right, the ocean stretched out into the distance from a rocky coast, and to their left, a farmhouse. It was modern, with large windows and a metal roof and white board and batten walls. They started up the drive toward it when Savio and Sofia, two of the children in Sam’s care rushed out, calling their names in broken English.

“That is a nice sight,” said Jerry.

“Yes, it is,” said Wesley, and the three of them jogged up the lane to meet them.

Isidore

The pilots have them flying low over the water racing toward the city of Port Louis on the island of Mauritius. Bobby and Isidore were buckled in worrying about the others and very afraid for their own survival. Jonathan was focused on his laptop on the reports from Africa and back in Argentina. Reece watched Jonathan as if he could read the situation by Jonathan’s expression alone. The attack on the mountain had been a shock. They had monitored for attack by missiles, low or high-flying planes, helicopters, alone or in a group, and for a squad of armed militia. What they didn’t count on was a lone assailant, just one man with enough explosives to compromise the mountain. How he got in was a fluke, utilizing the one ventilation shaft with a faulty sensor. They had gotten one of the jets out of the mountain but lost one to the collapse of a roof door.

Wesley, Liam, and Elijah were at the safe house after doing their mission. Preston and Brody were in the air somewhere communicating with Matthew Washington back in DC. Back in Argentina a team were assessing the damage, while the others were at the safe house or in route.

After flying around South Africa, keeping out over the ocean, they flew north passing over Madagascar plotting a course to land at Sir Seewoosagur Ramgoolam International Airport. Bobby and Isidore stared out windows at the vastness of the Indian Ocean. They knew the operation was over, or at least their part in it. Jonathan had given them several updates as information became available. The last report on the governments rounding up those that escaped Wesley, Jerry, and Liam’s mission. It had been a success, but Jonathan kept going over spy surveillance and data for there were aspects he wanted to go over again, such as personnel and gear left behind to assess capabilities in the future and any lead that might be used against Franz Schafer.

“We have a problem,” said the pilot over the intercom.

Bobby looked at Isidore then over to Jonathan and Reece.

“What is it?” asked Reece.

“We’re picking up the Ein Neuer Anfang just to our north.”

“Franz Schafer’s ship?”

“That would be the one.”

“Where is it heading?”

“It just sitting, probably monitoring the situation in Africa, thinking we’re out of commission.”

“Can we fly closer?” said Jonathan.

The pilot’s brief silence told them he thought Jonathan had lost his mind.

“Not advisable. We have no idea of their capabilities.”

“We should let the others know the ship’s status,” said Reece.

“That we can do,” said the pilot just as the radar warning system sounded an alarm. “We’ve got incoming! Get buckle in.”

“Incoming? Incoming what?” exclaimed Isidore.

“I assume a missile for it came out of the water, probably a submarine launch. Now go get buckled in.”

Isidore and Bobby had barely got their seat belts secured when the pilot turned the nose of the plane up. They accelerated angling up at a steep angle. Then they swung to the right, then left, then went into a steep dive. When they banked hard right, Bobby looked out and saw the missile clip the end of the wing and explode.

“Hang on,” exclaimed the pilot.

The plane wobbled, flew in a way so unnatural the everyone just held tight to the arms of the chairs holding their breath.

“BRACE. BRACE,” yelled the pilot over the intercom.

The plane hit the surface of the ocean, bouncing over a wave, then riding over the undulating surface until finally stopping, nose down and sinking.

“Can you get us out of here?” said Bobby to Isidore.

“I don’t know?”

“Try to do like Liam, contain us in a bubble and take us to land.”

“I can’t move through the air like Liam.”

The pilot came from the cockpit, head bleeding and disheveled.

“We’ll deploy the life raft, but we have a bigger problem,” said the pilot.

“What?” said Reece.

“The Ein Neuer Anfang is heading this way. I saw it starting to move right before the missile launch.”

“Isidore, can you stop it?” said Bobby. “I need to be too close to focus on it.”

“I…I’ll try.”

The pilot got the upper section of the door open and as water sloshed over the lower section into the cabin, she pulled the emergency release and a yellow plastic square dropped to the surface and inflated.

Isidore climbed in first, followed by the others with Bobby last, who pushed them away from the sinking plane. Once water got over the lower section of the door, the plane went down quickly.

“There’s the Ein Neuer Anfang!” said the pilot, pointing to the north. It was coming straight toward them, and they could make out the white break of water at the bow.

“Isidore, you can do it. You can stop them,” said Reece.

Isidore turned to look at the ship. He gripped the sides of the raft tightly, as he concentrated on it.

“It’s rising out of the water,” said Bobby.

Isidore kept his focus, willing the large vessel to rise, higher and higher. It hovered in the air with water trickling from the hull. It seemed to hover over the ocean’s surface for a long time as Isidore kept his concentration. Then he rotated it, brought the bow up until it hovered over the water with the stern just above the ocean’s surface and the bow pointing straight up.

“Jesus,” uttered the pilot as Reece shook his head.

The massive ship hovered in the air with debris falling into the ocean.

 

Franz was sitting in his chair on deck. The captain beside him checking their plot for sailing away from Africa if the need arose. Before him the crews were searching for information on their teams in Africa. It had been hours and nothing. No reports from any of the teams, no public news about terrorist attacks or coups being executed, and it is more worrying than if they got reports of failure. At least then they would know something.

“Is there not a way to find out something?” said Franz. How many times he has asked this question, he didn’t know.

“Our hacks into satellites have been severed, our contacts in the cities are reporting everything appears normal, the people of each going about their lives, and our comms to the teams are working fine, but it seems there is no reception on their end.”

“All the planning and money…what the fuck do we know?”

“It appears all teams are neutralized in some manner.”

“Sir, we just got a report of a building collapsing in Lonze,” said the crewman monitoring television broadcasts.

“In Zaire?” Franz replied.

“Yes, sir.”

“Is it our building?”

“I’m not sure but from the video of the site, I think it is.”

“Sir, we have an unidentified plane just to our south, flying low,” said another crew member, the one at a radar station.

“How far away?” said Franz.

“Close. We should have visual contact soon.”

Franz went to the monitor for the telescope mounted on top of the ship as the man working the station kept adjusting the lens searching for the plane.

“It should be visible,” said the first crew member.

“I got it.”

“Let me see,” said Franz pushing the guy to the side and looking close at the dark bronze jet flying low over the ocean. It was one of Chester Anderson planes. He knew it. He had reports of them being used for years until the group went underground in Argentina, then the planes were used sparingly. But he knew it had to be one of them. No FAA markings, no markings of any kind. Just the dark bronze paint scheme that rendered them hard to spot during the night, when they had been used most often. “It’s them, and I bet at least one of those boys are on it.”

“But sir, we don’t need them now,” said the captain.

“I need them,” said Franz. He intended to put one on a laboratory table and gut the freak himself. He knew they were involved despite reports the mission was successful back in Argentina. “Isn’t one of our subs close?”

“Yes, sir, practically in the plane’s path.”

“Tell them to take the plane down and try to hit a wing. We might get lucky and be able to retrieve the crew. If not, that will be acceptable to. Captain, plot a course to intercept.”

As the ship began to move, Franz listened to the communication to the sub and soon after, a missile burst out of the water heading toward the plane. The plane climbed, then dove back down, twisting and turning. When it neared the surface of the ocean, it pulled up, barely above the waves, and that is when the missile found its target. It clipped a wing and exploded. The plane lost control and was soon skimming the surface, then came to a sudden stop, nose down.

“Got you,” said Franz, smiling for the first time in hours.

He watched as the plane sank, first the nose, then with the tail sticking straight up, the rest of it. And beyond it, a life raft, bright yellow and hard to miss. Inside it there were five survivors.

Then the ship stopped moving and rose upward. It was disorienting, and those standing grabbed ahold of something. Then the ship’s bow began to rise, everything tilting back. Franz sat down, buckling in, trying to understand what was happening to his ship. It was impossible. There was nothing in the world that could lift such a massive vessel from the ocean. The crew tumbled to the back wall and those buckled in hung on. Every loose item, every chair not bolted down, fell to the back wall for it was now the floor. For a second the ship was stationary, bow pointing straight up. All Franz could see was blue sky.

“Such power,” Franz uttered, then he lay back in the chair wondering what would happen next.

The ship began to spin, slowly at first, but soon it sped up, spinning faster and faster until everyone on board passed out or died being slammed into a wall. Franz hung on, getting so dizzy he too was about to pass out. But before he did, the idea his great plan had not succeeded made him angry. It would be up to Felix, or Edmond, to find the success that eluded him.

 

The ship spun faster and faster, slinging small items out into the ocean. Then Isidore encapsulated it, a sphere of shimmering light with the vessel spinning within. As the rotation became a blur, the ship came apart. Pieces slammed against the sphere, then separated into smaller and smaller parts until suddenly it was gone, dissipated into molecular particles too small to see. The air cleared in the sphere, then its shimmering form dissipated like a mist in early morning.

“Jesus, you did it,” said Bobby.

Isidore stared at the clear sky, realizing he had done it. He felt the power of it, some charged sixth sense that Liam had once asked him about, but he hadn’t understood at the time. But he understood now.

The Calm After the Storm

Preston and Brody strolled along the street in Auckland, the commercial harbor to their right. They turned into a narrow lane away from the busy street and crowded sidewalks, and moved down to a tavern that was just a recessed door and two small windows. Inside, the tavern was busy, the bar crowded and the tables in the main room all filled. Preston led Brody to the back, to a side room where Matthew Washington and another man were waiting.

“Preston, Brody, good to see you,” said Matthew. “This is Charlie. He works for the guys across town.”

“Charlie,” said Preston shaking his hand, then taking a chair as Wesley shook hands with Charlie and took a seat next to him.

“How does it look?” said Preston.

Matthew laughed, shaking his head. “Everyone said you get right to the main topic without beating around the bush. But first, how is everyone? That grandfather of yours, how’s he doing?”

“Chester is fine. He and grandmother flew out yesterday heading to Argentina to see how it looks, then they’re going to DC.”

“Argentina was a fuck up. We should have caught it sooner.”

“Well, what’s done is done.”

“I see you guys made no effort to conceal what happened to the Ein Neuer Anfang. It is all over the news and in every media site.”

“It seemed like a good time to stop hiding.”

Matthew looked at Preston, then over to Brody who smiled.

“You’re not worried about people…I don’t know, freaking out?”

“That depends on you and everyone back in the states.”

“What do you mean?”

“You need to release reports telling what happened and more importantly, why?” said Brody.

Preston smiled this time.

“We can’t do that and—”

“You mean you won’t,” said Brody.

“It’ll get out of hand, and we won’t be able to control it.”

“That sounds like an excuse, and I call bullshit,” said Preston.

“What Isidore did is all over the news and people are more curious than scared,” said Brody.

“But we’re not sure people will be ready to find out some amongst them are special,” said Matthew.

“The same damn excuse that kept gays and lesbians in proverbial closets for far too long,” Preston, leaning forward. “Do you have any idea how many are out there like Wesley, Liam, and the others?”

“No.”

“Neither do we, but we do know most are scared. They don’t know why it happened to them or how. To find out they are not the only ones…it’s time to come out into the light. To show those out there they are not the only ones and there are those that can help them understand what is happening. No, we don’t have all the answers, but who gives a fuck other than some anal asshole who just wants to keep everything as it is.”

Matthew laughed, shaking his head. He looked over at Charlie who looked surprised at Preston’s response.

“Preston, I hear you, and you know, you’re probably right. Now, I need to know what your team’s plans are.”

Preston sat back looking relaxed for the first time since sitting down. Brody looked down then up smiling too.

“We’re going home,” said Preston.

“Back to Argentina?” said Charlie.

“No, the mountain outside Arlington. Argentina will become a substation of sorts.”

“Substation?”

“Sam will stay in Argentina, along with Jerry and Lorenzo. They’ll help take in those that need a safe place focusing on South America and Southeast Asia, and we’ll take Europe, African and the Middle East.”

“Your own little army?” said Charlie.

“No, unless you force our hand,” said Preston. “And we’re not going to hide.”

“You’re serious about coming out into the light of day,” said Matthew.

“Yes.”

“Let’s order some food and drinks, and you can tell me your plans, so I know how to report back in DC. Waiter, we can use menus and some drinks.”

 

Charlie went out first holding the door for the others. They gathered in the narrow lane, shook hands in preparation of going their own way.

“Preston, a couple of things we’d like to know,” said Matthew.

“If I know the answers.”

“Where did Liam put the top floor of the building? We were hoping to get their laptops and any documents—”

“Liam put it into the Sun’s orbit.”

“Shit are you serious?” said Charlie.

“Yes.”

“Well, we won’t be retrieving anything from that room. One more question. The boy, Isidore, do you know his strength?”

“You mean, how much mass can he reduce to molecular particles? No idea.”

“That ship was—”

“Yes, it was. But any ideas about taking Isidore for some inhumane study will not happen.”

“Of course, there aren’t any plans to study him. It’s just some back in Washington are a bit nervous.”

“Good. Maybe they won’t get any ideas like Eriksson or Pritchard. By the way, you do have Eriksson in custody?”

“Officially, we have no Eriksson in custody.”

“Unofficially?” said Brody.

“He’s never going to see the light of day.”

“No trial?”

“He got one, and it was a bitch to keep it out of the media.”

Preston and Brody turned to walk away, when Matthew called out.

“Oh, one more thing. General Braxton said to tell you he might have another plane. You know, one to replace the one lost in Argentina.”

“I thought there were only two of them?” said Preston.

“This is a different plane. Built to meet the same specs but by a competitor.”

“Does it come in black?” said Brody.

Matthew shrugged his shoulders smiling at the two boys. “Let’s talk when you get back.”

Preston nodded, then Brody and he moved down the lane toward the main road.

Just Another Day in Paradise

Isidore stood on the balcony overlooking the valley. Behind him inside the kitchen Elizabeth was setting lunch on the table as Chester filled glasses. They had been back at the mountain outside Arlington for two months, celebrating his fifteenth birthday right after arriving. He was in America, and it was strange. A place he had only heard of and never thought he would visit, much less reside. Now he lived as Eli had when he first arrived, going through the mountain from one residence to the other. He looked toward the east where the valley opened onto the lowlands stretching out to the coast. Somewhere down there in the little town of Woodstock Jesse, Bobby’s brother lived. He knew other family members were nearby, parents and siblings. He had believed he had no one until Sam took him in. Now he lived with the boys, and when he wanted, Chester and Elizabeth.

“Isidore, let’s eat,” called Chester.

Isidore went inside and took his place between Chester and Elizabeth. He smiled to see his favorite dish.

“Are some of the boys still going hiking next week?” said Chester.

“Yes, sir.”

“Are you going with them?”

“I’ve decided to go.”

“Good. You boys could use some time alone away from everything. Bobby said you’re going to do a section of the AT down in the Shenandoah.”

“Reece was against it,” said Isidore, smiling when he thought about how Reece kept saying it wasn’t a good idea.

“He is about security and keeping everyone safe.”

“I know.”

Isidore suddenly sensed something. It was near, and he looked out through the windows where the light reflected wrong over the balcony. Then two young men stepped onto the balcony the same way Liam was able to do.

“Chester!” said Isidore in a whispered exclamation.

“I see them. I’ve been expecting someone to show up ever since we moved back,” said Chester rising to his feet. He moved around the table as the two men came to the door and knocked, as if entering via a balcony forty feet above grade were normal.

Chester opened the door and smiled at them.

“Are you Preston?”

“No, no, I’m afraid not. I’m his grandfather, Chester.”

“I’m Edmond Schafer and this is…my boyfriend Henri Steiner.”

“Schafer?”

Edmond turned red in the face and looked away.

“Tell him,” said Henri. Then he turned to Chester knowing the shame Edmond felt would paralyze him. “You’re right in what you’re thinking. Edmond is the son of Franz Schafer. But he is not like his father, or his older brother.”

“Felix; I understand he’s missing.”

“Not exactly,” said Edmond finding his voice. “Felix caught us and tried to…he shot Henri and I…I…”

“He sent Felix away,” said Henri.

“Away? You mean like the way you traveled here,” said Chester.

“Where did you send him,” said Isidore coming up behind Chester.

 “I don’t know. I was upset, angry at what he had done, and I sent him to a void. A place that was just darkness.”

“Oh dear,” said Chester. “I assume you realize Felix is gone forever.”

Edmond nodded.

“Come in, we’re just having lunch. Why don’t you join us and tell me what brought you here.”

 

They finished lunch and everyone sat back as Isidore cut the apple pie Elizabeth had baked that morning, scooping vanilla ice cream to go with it. Edmond sat relaxed and Henri and Chester were talking about working dogs, specifically Henri’s three Border Collies.

Isidor set a slice of pie in front of everyone then took his seat with his own slice. The table fell silent once again as every began to eat.

“Edmond, do you want to move here and live with us?” said Isidore between bites.

Edmond looked shocked at the bluntness of the question. Henri chuckled then looked across the table at Chester nodding his head.

“That is why you’re here,” said Chester.

“Yes, sir,” said Edmond.

“Because of his father, things are difficult back in Austria and Germany and we’re looking for some place we can live,” said Henri.

“We have room, don’t we, Chester,” said Isidore.

“Yes, we do,” said Chester. He leaned forward, getting the young men’s attention. “We built a new wing to the residence for our newest residents, and if you like, we can set you up with a room. Of course, all the living areas are communal.”

“And we eat a lot of Mexican food,” said Isidore, making Henri laugh.

“I love tacos,” said Henri.

Chester picked up what at first looked like a cellphone but after only hitting two buttons, Preston’s voice came over the speaker.

“Grandfather?”

“Preston, how quick can you come over?”

Suddenly Liam and Preston stepped into the dining area. “Is this quick enough?” said Liam as Preston moved to the table eyeing their guests. He saw the looks, two guys who were not shocked by what they saw.

“One of you has a power,” said Preston.

“That would be Edmond,” said Henri.

“And you’re his boyfriend.”

“That’s right.”

“I’m Edmond Schafer, and this is Henri Steiner.”

“Schafer!”

“Preston, sit down and we can explain everything,” said Chester.

A Night for Lovers

Preston stood under the spray of the shower, the water as hot as he and Brody could stand it. Brody was moving against him and inside him. Body against body, slow intimidate undulations that pumped cock into Preston’s depths. A nip at the shoulder, a kiss on the back of the neck, and hands holding the waist, fingers digging into the firm flesh.

“Brody,” Preston whispered.

“I love you,” Brody replied as he kept up his rhythm, the steady fuck that was their second of the night.

Preston braced against the wall as Brody reached around and took his cock. A stroking in rhythm with their fuck.

The tension of everything that had happened then the logistics of moving back had worn Preston down more than anyone else. Brody had seen it, did his best to support Preston and help where he could reduce the load, as had Jonathan, Reece, Robert, and even Chester. And he was there for him when Preston just needed a companion who understood. One that could just let go and be there for him.

And Brody was there, every day, every night, standing by his side. And he was there for the companionship Preston needed.

Brody fucked. Held Preston in his arms and moved from the intimacy Preston wanted to the physicality he craved when aroused. He pushed into Preston’s depths, over and over, until his hips smacked against the ass. Preston began to push back, to work his ass increasing the feel of their fuck.

“Preston,” Brody uttered, and he tightened his hold on the waist, pushed into Preston’s depths, and came.

 

Wesley hovered over Quinton, only his cock touching him, with a couple of inches inside him. It was silly how Wesley flew over Quinton, but the playfulness of it made them forget all that had happened, brought the two of them into the moment. This moment, just between the two of them. Wesley worked his hips, driving into Quinton’s depths. His movement was slow, fluid, an unhurried sex that pushed Quinton to the point of release.

“Wesley.”

Wesley took each leg and pushed down pressing thighs against chest, then he glided down until Quinton could feel his weight, feel the heat of his body, this knowing of him, and he fucked harder, faster, pushing Quinton’s and his own arousal. He kissed the neck, moved up along the side of it until he could move back along the jaw, the stubble rough and arousing, speaking to the masculine nature of their sex.

Wesley fucked and fucked and fucked, until sweat trickled down his face and the contact between them was slick. He fucked until he was beyond holding back.

“Wesley!” Quinton cried out.

Wesley felt warm cum spread between them from the spurting cock. He caught the scent of Quinton’s cum, the exotic nature of it, and he cried out and shuddered with his own release.

 

Liam moved up and down. His movements were slow so he could feel every inch of William moving through his opening. He leaned back and worked his hips faster, up and down on William’s cock until his own smacked his stomach leaving wet smears. He sat up, slowed his pace, and when William sat up, bearhugging their bodies together, he shifted them into the realm. Every touch seemed to be everywhere. Every time he moved down, the fullness made him gasp, and William cry out.

Liam moved within Williams arms, working his ass on the cock. He moved up, dragging his cock up William’s stomach. He moved down, increasing the feel of fullness from the penetration. The realm increased their senses and brought Liam to the point of release, and he leaned back in William’s arms, working his hips upward, pushing his cock up the stomach, and came. Ropes of cum hit William on the chin, then down the chest as Liam shuddered and jerked with each ejaculation.

William tightened his hold on Liam and pulled him down, all the way as his cock ejaculated wad after wad inside him.

Then Liam shifted them back on the bed, sweaty and gasping for breath.

 

Reece pushed Jonathan against the wall and shoved upward into his depths. Working his hips, he pumped his cock in Jonathan using his first load as lube.

“Fuck…Reece…” uttered Jonathan as his own cock was pinned between him and the wall.

“Fuck, I want you…need you,” uttered Reece as he slowed his pace, slowly tugged his cock outward, then pushed inward, feeling every inch slip through the tightness.

Reece picked Jonathan up, carried him to their bed, tossing him on it. He moved over the prone body, folding the legs up and over, and entered him easily, all the way. He fucked with the strength of his body, moving with a physicality and rhythm only two men can possess. He felt hands rake along his sides, fingers dig into the firm flesh as he continued to fuck, not slowing or speeding up, just lost in the moment, this connection between them.

“Reece,” Jonathan uttered.

Reece leaned down, kissed him, then he increased the pace of their fuck. Drove into Jonathan’s depths until the bed rocked beneath them. It was as if the whole world moved with their fuck.

Then Reece rose up and hammered his hips against Jonathan’s upturned ass until the breaking point.

“Fuck,” uttered Reece as he shuddered with his release.

Reece slow fucked until spent, then he pulled out, slid down between Jonathan’s legs taking the drooling cock into his mouth. He moved on it, working his head up and down, until he felt it swell thicker, then blast the back of his throat with the first wad, then fill his mouth with the rest.

 

Brandon lay on the bed on his stomach, naked, hands bound behind him. A spreader bar was secured to the ankle cuffs, keeping the feet apart.

Smack. Smack. Smack.

Eli spanked him using his bare hand, warming each ass cheek. Brandon’s ass turned rosy-red, and moved in that way Eli knew was Brandon getting off on it. He rolled Brandon over seeing the drooling wet cock and the nut sac already drawn up tight. He moved to the foot of the bed, took the spreader bar in hand and lifted it, then pushed forward as he knee walked up the bed until his wet cock touched the upturned spread ass.

“What do you want?”

“I want you to fuck me,” Brandon replied.

Eli penetrated the ass, pushed forward slowly letting Brandon feel every inch working through his tightness. He pushed down on the spreader bar until knees were touching the bed either side of the torso and he was over him, cock buried in the ass. He began to fuck, pulling outward until his cock nearly slipped free, then shoving inward, all the way until hips pressed against ass.  He fucked until the bed rocked and the sound of hips banging against ass echoed in the room. Only Brandon’s cries were louder, utterances of obscenities that still made Eli blush.

Eli pulled out, let his cock hover between them as Brandon’s hole started to close, then he punched back through, pushing inward, penetrating Brandon with every inch of his cock. Then he fucked. Just fucked until sweat poured down his face and ran rivers down his back and chest. He fucked until his body felt feverish and every muscle burned from his exertions. He fucked until Brandon came, cock spurting wad after wad over chest and stomach. And he kept fucking until he too came.

 

Victor still hadn’t grown accustomed to all that had happened. How Bobby was one with powers. How they had been hiding out at the mountain, then attacked, fleeing to New Zealand. When they had talked about moving home, he assumed Argentina. He was shocked to find it was somewhere outside Arlington, Virginia.

With tears in his eyes, Bobby had taken him outside to an overlook of the ocean and gave him the option to go back to Argentina. The option to pick up his life as a waiter, scrapping by and barely making ends met. A chance to meet someone else and have a normal life was how Bobby phrased it. But Victor didn’t know what that looked like, and he couldn’t imagine letting Bobby go. So, he moved with Bobby to the mountain house outside Arlington.

Now he held the lean body against his own, daringly standing on the balcony to their room overlooking the lush green valley below. He had never seen such a place when they first arrived. Now he knew why the others had to return.

Victor moved inside of Bobby, worked his cock through the tightness until Bobby was pushing back.

“Vic…fuck me; please,” Bobby uttered.

Victor pushed Bobby to lean over until hands were holding the top rail, and he the narrow waist. He spread his feet finding the center of his balance and began to fuck. To drive into the tight ass. He fucked until he knew Bobby’s cock swung heavily between the thighs, hard and dripping. He fucked until hips smacked against ass, not caring if someone heard. All he could focus on was the boy who tried him in ways unimaginable, the boy who led him around the world, and gave him such pleasure it took his breath away.

Then he was coming, pumping wad after wad into Bobby’s depths.

As Victor leaned over the sweaty body, trying to slow his own breathing, he knew what was next. He wanted it.

Victor let Bobby guide him back until he was lying on the chaise lounge and Bobby was lifting his legs. It always surprised him how such a submissive person taking his cock could be so aggressive when their roles reversed. His legs were pushed back until thighs were tight to his chest. His head was bent up against the seat back and it let him watch everything. The lean body move to him, how the hard cock was put to his opening, quickly penetrating him. How the body moved over him, fucking and fucking and fucking until Bobby was gasping for breath and his own cock was hard as rock and drooling on his stomach. 

Despite the lean body, or because of it, Bobby always surprised Victor with his stamina, the ability to fuck until the two of them were gasping for breath. When Bobby finally came, Victor came too, again, cum roping up his chest as Bobby slammed into his ass and kept jamming hips against it until finally spent.

 

Edmond looked out the window at a landscape similar to that of Henri’s home. But there were differences. Obvious differences, but also the intangible aspects that most were personal. For the first time in his life, he felt like he could breathe. His father had been such a powerful figure in his life, one that always held impossible expectations, expectations not even Felix could live up to.

Felix.

He tried to miss his brother, but those last words haunted him. I knew you were weak. Father knew it too…

Felix ultimately was the product of their father. He knew he had gone too far despite what everyone said. Elizabeth had taken him aside, poured him tea far too sweet while telling him we all make difficult decisions, and he couldn’t let hindsight, regret, or second guessing make him lose his way. He knew she was right, but he still felt the loss. It was only his mother and him now, and she seemed to be trying to pick up the pieces of her life too.

Edmond turned when Henri came out of the bathroom, toweling his thick dirty blonde hair dry. He looked at the familiar body, the masculine nature of it, and he crossed the room, took the towel, tossing it aside and guided Henri to their bed.

He lay back and raised his ass, helping Henri pull down the gym shorts and boxers he wore, leaving him just as naked. He propped up on elbows watching Henri ease down on knees, move up between his legs, and take his cock in the mouth. The head moved up and down until he was so hard he ached for release. Then Henri was moving over him, pushing his legs apart, rubbing cock alongside his own, then down below his sac over his opening. He moaned and pushed with his hips against the cock.

“Henri, put it in me.”

Edmond shivered as he stretched to take Henri. Slowly, Henri pushed into him. It seemed to take such a long time, forever and a day as Reece would often say. Forever. If only it could last that long.

Edmond felt the fullness of penetration, the loosening of his opening, then Henri moving inside him, pushing deeper and deeper. He clutched at the bed, arced his back as he pushed against Henri, taking all of him. The bed began to rock, and it was in rhythm with Henri. At times slow, so agonizingly slow, then fast, physical, pushing him to the brink of release, only to slow again.

Henri shoved into his depths and cried out, and he felt the exclamation then the exhale on his neck. He felt the shuddering and jamming of hips against his ass, then that one final exhale that told him Henri was spent.

Henri was back between his legs, sucking his cock. He was so aroused, right at the point of release, it didn’t long, and he was pushing upward with each ejaculation. Henri took each one, until Edmond fell back exhausted and spent.

 

Isidore followed the other boys out of the cinema where they had watched the latest science fiction flick. He had come with Dae-Jung and some of the boys they had met at the school down in the valley. Dean, Ryan, and Markus, and the one that made his heart race, Joshua. He wondered if Dae-Jung felt that way toward Markus for the way he looked at him.

It was Joshua that Isidore wanted more than mere friendship, the one with curly red hair and green eyes and the cutest smile when he joked around. The boy was tall, over six feet, towering over his own five-foot six height and he was a whole year older, sixteen to his fifteen. He wondered if such a boy would ever like him, look at him and find him as attractive as he found Joshua. Joshua hadn’t shown up with a girlfriend, made no mention of one, nor did he flirt with the girls at the cinema. It gave Isidore hope or was it just a temptation that he could never have.

“We’re parked over there,” said Dean, pointing toward the left side of the parking lot.

“We’re out there,” said Dae-Jung, pointing straight out where they had parked at the end of an aisle.

“You guys want to go get ice cream or something?” said Ryan.

“Yes,” said Joshua. “Let’s go to the place back in Woodstock. The one on Main Street.”

“We’ll follow you guys back,” said Dae-Jung.

“Hey, Isidore, you want to ride with us,” said Joshua.

“Yes,” Isidore replied, stepping off the sidewalk to follow Joshua.

Dae-Jung looked at Markus and Dean, and smiled, nodding his head.

“Hey Dae-Jung, wait up, I’m riding with you,” said Markus, turning to follow him.

 

A half of a world away…

Jerry lay on his back, eyes closed, focused solely on the undulating body moving against him. How it seemed like a serpent, evil and desirous all at the same time. How the body pushed cock into his depths and made his own flex with his arousal.

“Lorenzo,” Jerry exclaimed, dragging out the sound of the ‘o’.

Lorenzo moved inside him, working cock into his depths. The bump and grind of hips against ass, the feel of lips on his neck, and each hot exhale; it pushed his own arousal until he was working his hips, pushing upward with his ass trying to get Lorenzo deeper, just a little deeper, to the very center of his soul.

Lorenzo rolled them over and Jerry sat up, his cock angled up between his thighs fully erect. He moved up and down on Lorenzo, working his ass on the cock. Up and down until fingers dug into each thigh and he could hear the utterances.

“Fuck, fuck, Jerry, take me.”

Jerry took his cock in hand and stroked it as he kept moving his ass on Lorenzo’s cock.

“Jerry,” Lorenzo uttered breathlessly.

It was like a trigger, something manipulated deep within, and Jerry came, pumping out wad after wad, raining it down on Lorenzo. As he slowed, cock spent, Lorenzo rose up, flipped him to his back, and with legs over the shoulders, fucked with an urgency that quickly brought him off.

Epilogue

Li Jun ran, ran as hard as he could, down sidewalks, through narrow alleys, knocking over boxes and trashcans. He cut over to the next street and could see new apartment buildings under construction towering over the old structures of the city. Structures that would one day be torn down for the new and improved city.

He knew he shouldn’t have done it, but he was tired of living in the shadows, sneaking around after dark to meet one man or another. It was just a superficial thing, a few minutes of contact with another man in a moment he knew they considered just sexual, but for him it was a few minutes of intimacy. The connections with another like him. After five years of living like an alien in his own city, he came out, first to his friends, then to his family, and finally to some at the office he worked in. The latter had been a mistake, a terrible mistake. Binyamin, the one he thought he could trust the most, turned him in to the police. Now they pursued him like he was just a common criminal and did so in the only place he knew as home. He saw the looks of neighbors and those he considered friends, how they stared at him like he really was a criminal, or more shamefully, turned their backs on him. No one offered to help him.

After a couple of blocks, he found himself running under bridges for the expressway, then bridges of the perimeter road. He was gasping for breath, his sides burning, and he didn’t know how much longer he could keep running. He glanced back and saw the blue lights and between him and them, several police officers still in pursuit.

He tripped over the third rail line, staggered back to his feet, and took off again. He ran around a gate that led to an area of the docks on the river, cutting behind a warehouse building, then running across open tarmac heading toward the shipping containers stacked along the dock. Suddenly a bright light shined down on him, and he looked up at a silent dark object hovering above. Air blew down on him so hard he nearly lost his balance, but the dark craft remained silent. It moved toward the shipping containers then landed in the space between them and Li Jun. He had never seen such a plane. There were no lights, no markings, not even windows for the cockpit.

Li Jun stood frozen, unsure which way to run. Then he saw a line of escaping light, and realized a door was opening on the plane. Steps extended out and a young man stepped into the light of the door. He looked American and Li Jun imagined prison, maybe even a death penalty. The man ran out of the plane until standing next to him.

“Who are you?”

“Li Jun, do you want a second chance at life,” said the man in broken Chinese. “There is no time; please come with us.”

Li Jun was desperate and tired and didn’t see a better option. What if they just took him to some prison or dropped him out of the plane over the South China Sea, it would be no worse than what would happen if he let the police capture him. He nodded. “I’ll go with you.”

Police dogs were running across the tarmac heading their way. Blue lights appeared at the end of the dock area closing the distance between them rapidly.

“Good,” the man replied. “I’m Wesley, and I need you to hold tight to me.”

Li Jun hesitantly moved close the man, put his arms around the neck and held tight. His feet left the ground, and they moved impossibly fast to the plane.

Inside, Li Jun saw two others, one huge, muscular, grinning at them, and the other looking at a laptop.

“We need to go,” said Wesley. “Jonathan, how does it look?”

“Not good. We need to go and now.”

“Cutting it close, boys,” said Reece.

“Li Jun, please, sit,” said Wesley in his broken Chinese.

Li Jun did as Wesley asked as the door closed, and the plane began to rise in the air. Wesley buckled him in, then sat down and buckled in too.

“Hang on,” said Wesley.

Li Jun felt the plane rise rapidly, higher and higher. He had no idea how fast or high they were, but if he could look out all he would see was patches of light from the towns and cities along the coast of his homeland, from Hong Kong to Guangzhou. The plane spun around and suddenly the acceleration pinned Li Jun into his seat.

“We’ll be back at our home before long. Try to get some rest,” said Wesley.

“Hey, Li Jun, catch,” said Reece tossing a bottle of water across the narrow space.

“Thanks,” said Li Jun. Maybe they wouldn’t drop him in the sea. Maybe they really would give him a second chance at life. Now he wanted to know why. “Why me?”

Wesley pointed toward the front where a monitor flipped down. It came on and someone who spoke Chinese reported on the human rights movement that officials kept putting down. The latest was against gays and lesbians, asking for the right to live their own lives. Li Jun’s face appeared in the report holding a sign and leading a march. The reporter identified him then told of a police warranty for his arrest, and it was feared Li Jun would be another gay man to disappear in the system.

“You’ll not disappear, Li Jun.”

Li Jun looked at Wesley with his mythical powers of flight, his American looks, and bad Chinese, and he smiled for the first time in a long time.