Intelligent Design: Revelations to Apocalypse (31 page)

BOOK: Intelligent Design: Revelations to Apocalypse
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The roar of approval exploded from behind her. She had more to say, so she watched for Clematis to hit the bell again, to restore order. She was surprised that Clematis let the applause and shouts of joy go on a little longer than expected. A moment later, she struck the bell and silence reasserted itself.

“I am an Earther. I was born there and I lived there for the first part of my life. But I gave my right hand for Terra. I will die on Terra, my new home. But if I am to die, let it be exploring strange and wondrous sights. Let it be in pitched battle beside my Terran brothers and sisters against rattuses and bats. Forget the holographic emitters. This is no time to hide who we are. We are Terrans! Let us gather our strength, collect our gear, and prepare to find more underground worlds and undiscovered countries. Let us move with confidence and unity—not because it is easy, but because we are Terrans. We do the impossible!”

The crowd erupted into a louder explosion of clapping, shouts, and chants of “Praetor Perez” and “Perez Rimor.” Looking around at the senators, she caught sight of Dimitra, always stoic and sage, begin to slowly stand and clap. Others followed suit until the entire senate was on its feet—with the sole exception of the Iratus clan, who remained sitting silently in their seats, arms folded and scowls on their faces.

Perez nodded deferentially to Dimitra, who nodded back again. She turned to bow to Legate Legionis Clematis, who remained erect and with a smile on her face. Still holding the gavel in her hand, it was obvious to Perez that she was going to let the roar of approval continue. Nodding yet again, Perez backed away from the podium and facing the still-standing senators. When she felt she was at a respectful distance, she turned to Dee Dee, whose face was spotted with tears. Perez’s step faltered just a little bit, but she was quickly caught by both Dee Dee and the doctor. The roars continued at such a pitch that Perez’s ears were ringing. Her entire trip back to the infirmary was followed by approving shouts, clapping, and yells. Once the doctor closed the door to her room, the hospital’s other medics stopped by to give their own approval—until Paeoniis threw them out. The ringing in Perez’s ears seemed to subside gradually. Back in her elevated bed, she felt relieved to be lying down. Without fanfare, the doctor immediately went to work, changing her dressing.

“So before you start marching through the underworld planting Terran flags, I will need you to follow my instructions, and I will need your word that you will adhere to my orders,” he said.

“Without reservation, Medicus Paeoniis,” Perez said quietly. Waves of exhaustion weakened her resolve with every passing moment.

“And it will take me several cycles to get a working prosthesis hand fitted for your arm. Your Earthen bone and muscle structure will be challenging to work with, but I am confident I can make a good match,” the doctor said. Even as he spoke, his focus on cleaning and dressing her wound was unbroken.

“Well, Perez the Younger, your father is going to be furious at both of us for your injuries, but he’ll be thrilled you are alive and well,” Dee Dee said.

Fear and anxiety gripped Perez. Memories of her father’s worries and concerns for her made her feel bad. He had made it clear that he would only leave Terra if she promised to be safe. She was lost in her own thoughts when Dee Dee leaned forward and placed a hand on her left shoulder.

“Do you have any idea what you have done, Perez the Younger?”

Perez looked up at her, confused and tired.

“You have given us hope and purpose,” Dee Dee said. She smiled, squeezed her shoulder, and left. Perez watched her walk away and wondered if Hydra and the others who had died would be proud. Their names and families would be remembered. She began to doze, and was startled when she felt the doctor gently move her re-dressed hand to her side. He walked to the infirmary door and dimmed the lights.

“All right, Immunes. Get some sleep, and we’ll talk in the morning.”

“Thank you, Medicus Paeoniis.”

She watched him nod and walk into his adjacent office, surrounded by transparent partitions so he could keep an eye on her and the other patients. Perez closed her eyes. She felt her body become light, and then she drifted away.

“I hope it was enough, Hydra,” she said quietly.

Chapter Eleven
Epsilon Team Six—Earth

Should a person do good, let him do it again and again. Let him find pleasure therein, for blissful is the accumulation of good.
—The Buddha

“I’m telling you, Middleton, it’s not their first day on the job. The first time I met them we were outnumbered, outgunned, and outflanked by a team that had an armed helicopter for support! Four minutes later, all the hostiles were dead, the helicopter neutralized, and all evidence destroyed. We’re not going to wait for backup,” Reich said.

She had watched Middleton’s level of anxiety creep up after long hours of searching for, locating, and launching the extraction team. He was absolutely fine until he met her Terran friends, whom he towered over. The fact that they were small, all female, and pretty ugly—from his perspective—properly rattled him. But it was the decision to go nonlethal and without firearms, and instead to use batons, edged weapons, and their wits that put him over the top. Reich’s own fears for the general and Perez were running high as well. As mission leader, she confiscated his phone to ensure security and to make her point clear.

“Middleton! Nonlethal means a lot of bad guys unconscious, tied up, and alive. That leaves a lot of questions, but no pursuit. A large number of dead bodies systematically eliminated in US territories and waters under US jurisdiction means an act of terrorism or a foreign nation’s involvement. You think it’s a good idea to draw the attention of the former than the latter?”

Middleton frowned at her word choice. Reich already knew she had used the idiom the wrong way.

“You mean the ‘latter’ for the dead bodies and the ‘former’ for unconscious bad guys,” he corrected.

At the time, Reich was surprised and annoyed by the Cambridge-educated Englishman who pinched the bridge of his nose and projected the wearied attitude of a fifth-grade teacher trying to help a particularly intellectually delayed student.

“You see what we have been dealing with?” Lux said to him in passing.

“The best way to remember ‘former’ and ‘latter’ is to think of it as ‘former’ is the first mentioned, a ‘latter’ is the thing that comes later,” he suggested.

“Shut up, Middleton! Spenser has good reason to dislike you!”

Her team laughed. Middleton’s face revealed a well-practiced smirk.

Reich went back to assessing the assault. She couldn’t help but chuckle to herself as well.

In regard to the mission, the beacon Perez hid on the ship held for two hours, which was time enough for the drone to put eyes on the vessel and for Reich Enterprises’ own surveillance satellite to locate the ship as well. Surprisingly, the ship docked at a private pier on Nantucket Island, more than a hundred miles from Boston, in the Atlantic Ocean beyond Martha’s Vineyard and Cape Cod. It took mere minutes to locate their hideout and assess defensive lines, personnel, and enter-exit strategies. The plan was simple: take a plane out and have all but Bella drop in silently via parachute. Bella would continue on to pick up an armored transport helicopter loaded with firepower, then would return from the east over land for pickup and heavy support if necessary.

Much to Reich’s surprise, she learned that it would be Middleton’s first jump—meaning he had to go in tandem with her. She was not thrilled at all. Regardless, it was 10:35 p.m. on a moonless night meant for stealth, and Lux, Pax, and Vespere had already silently taken out five of thirteen hostiles. With the sole exception of crickets, birds, rustlings in nearby bushes, and very distant voices from homes a half-mile away on the remote part of the island, there was no one around. The risk of civilian interference was low. Adding to that low rate was the fact that the target home was a poorly maintained colonial on an acre of untrimmed lawn. It was adjacent to a protected wildlife sanctuary, further adding to its seclusion. Reich had a sudden idea of finding out more about this real estate and buying it. Her master computer, who was monitoring the entire operation, let her know that the property had recently been purchased by a “European industrialist.” She felt anger in the form of heat rising from her face.

“Stay behind me,” Reich said in an attempt to get back on mission. She felt far more comfortable in her one-piece tactical uniform than she had in that red outfit. All non-reflective black, no metal, and armed with her baton, she came up behind a small wall. A similarly dressed Middleton did an adequate job of staying quiet and behind her.

“Reich—three meters to your left. We missed one. He’s yours,” she heard Lux say in her ear. Reich put a closed fist in the air for Middleton to see so he would know to stay silent. She peered over the small wall and saw a man lighting up a cigarette, clearly on a break.

That’s surprising. They never miss anyone.

Without hesitation, she moved up quickly behind him and delivered a hammer strike to the base of his neck with the assistance of her baton handle. She guided him to the ground as he slumped over. She made sure to remove all his weapons and to bind his hands. As quickly as she had moved to neutralize the threat, she returned to her position.

“Not bad,” she heard Vespere say.

Reich narrowed her eyes at a sudden thought.

“Did you leave him deliberately for me?” she said quietly. Instead of getting an answer, she heard chatter.

“You owe me a bag of cooked chestnuts with honey. She did it all in under two Earth minutes,” she heard Lux say.

“She used the butt of her baton…” she heard Vespere complain.

“You should have clarified. I win. Pax—four meters to your left; Vespere—two meters right in front of you. Bella—ETA?” Lux said.

Reich couldn’t help but smirk. While Pax and Vespere confirmed their targets, Bella gave a ten-minute warning of her arrival. It took five minutes to reach the exterior walls of the house. It was well lit, allowing them to see that there were only five heavily armed men inside. Reich made eye contact with Lux and Vespere, who were about to breach the door. Without use of explosives, Vespere turned the knob and entered the home as if she were coming over for coffee. Pax and Lux were right behind her. For just one minute there were some muffled grunts, groans, and thuds. Reich didn’t wait for an all-clear, just for the quiet racket to come to a sudden end. When she entered the near-empty living room, two men were out cold and one was in the process of passing out as Pax squeezed her legs around his neck. Once their pockets were emptied of weapons, transceivers, and ammunition, Lux pointed to the staircase that led to the second floor. There was a unanimous nod and all got into a well-spaced formation and silently walked on the edges of the stairs to reduce the risks of creaks. In the process, Reich turned to check on Middleton. It was easy to see that he was baffled and surprised at how smoothly the operation was going. She had to give him credit for going along with the entire mission—he had clearly been doubtful, but he was becoming a believer.

After a quick scan of two bedrooms, Reich heard very low, male voices in what she guessed might be a master bedroom. Lux and Vespere gave each other concerned looks and then Lux broke protocol and came to her, leaving Vespere and Pax on point in front of the door.

“As dismal as this security team is, I still would have expected them to leave the remaining two guards in the front of the door where the hostages are being held. They may be on the other side with, I am assuming, Sir Pierce and our people. Breach will be on three,” she whispered.

She suddenly returned to take the lead in the breach. Instead of turning the door knob and walking in like they did downstairs, however, Lux affixed a small pouch to the door. She produced a trigger, then she and the rest of Epsilon flanked the door. She put up one finger at a time. When she got to three, she depressed her trigger and a small explosion splintered the old wood easily. Reich heard nothing, but saw her team go in. She went in right after them with Middleton hot on her trail. Once she cleared the entrance, she was surprised to see three men already tied up and gagged on the floor. The three Terrans looked at them in dismay.

“What the hell? Where’s…what…” Reich started.

A cough came from the other side of the room. She and everyone else turned to see General Farrell in full uniform, sitting with Anthony Perez as if they were making idle chit-chat. Both men’s attire was rumpled but still in place. Reich moved over to the duo, who both stood up in the presence of the women. When she was just two feet from both men, Reich put both hands on her hips and waited for an answer.

“I would have escaped, but Mr. Perez insisted on waiting for some ‘all-female SEAL team’ to come in for the rescue. He said you would be here before midnight,” Farrell explained.

Reich turned to look at Perez. He sported a black eye and several cuts and bruises on his face and hands, as if he had been beaten. Still, he smirked as she looked at him. The general also looked as if he had been in a brawl but he, too, appeared to be in good spirits. Reich looked back at the three men bound and gagged on the floor. Their dispositions were visibly sour, especially Sir Pierce’s. He wore a look of both fury and indignation.

“I’m surprised you got here so early. I’m glad you did. I was worried that we were going to have to subdue the guards downstairs as well,” Perez said.

“We did have a chance to talk about serious stuff. The data you provided and our own observations were stunning. But the material on Jupiter is worrisome,” Farrell said. His demeanor shifted to sad and professional at the same time.

She turned to see where Middleton was, to make sure he was not listening. He was crouching down in front of the gagged and unceremoniously tied Sir Robert Phillip Pierce.

“Well, Your Highness, there’s a cold, dark cell waiting for you in Her Majesty’s clock tower. There will be no escape this time,” he said.

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