Mirrored Man: The Rob Tyler Chronicles Book 1 (44 page)

“This must be the place,” Rob said, climbing
out of the car. June followed suit and they met at the gate. There
was an electronic keypad similar to the one at the storage
facility. She gave Rob a skeptical look. “Don’t tell me …”

He shrugged again and punched in a series of
numbers and the gate began to slide open.

“You’ve been here before too, haven’t
you?”

“I guess so,” he said just as he noticed
headlights coming up the road behind them.

June turned to face them as well. She
watched as a Jeep pulled up behind their car and two occupants
stepped out. The one who looked to be in his late forties was
wearing jeans and an orange Florida Gators polo shirt, and holding
a flashlight. The other was much younger, wearing a pair of khaki
shorts and a white tee shirt. June figured he couldn’t yet be out
of his teens.
Father and son?

“Can I help you folks?” the older man asked,
walking up to the driver’s side of the Torino as he
studied them by its headlights.

“We were just—”

“Mister Tyler? Is that you?” the young man
interrupted.

Rob had no idea who these men were, so the
young man’s unexpected recognition startled him. “Um … yeah. Yeah,
it’s me.”

The older man gave him a confused look. “You
didn’t call.”

“I’m sorry. My cell phone died.” He didn’t
know what else to say, and he was feeling at a bit of a
disadvantage.

“Sorry I didn’t know who you were,” the
older man said, looking disdainfully at the Torino. “And I didn’t
recognize the car.”

“Yeah,” Rob replied, giving the old beater a
loving look. “I just picked her up. Got a lotta restoration to do.
Dad had one just like it when I was a kid. It’s a surprise for
him.”

“Well, she needs a lotta body work,” the man
said, shining the light through the open window. “How’s she
run?”

“Purrs like a really big kitten,” Rob
answered with a grin.

“Has she got a Windsor or a Cleveland?”

Rob scoffed. “I wouldn’t have bought her if
she didn’t have a Cleveland.”

The teenager spoke up. “You gonna be taking
your dad’s Beaver out?”

Well, that explains that
. “Probably
in the morning. I just wanted to show her to my friend June, here.”
He gestured in her direction.

“That is a sweet plane,” the young man
nodded. “Mister Tyler senior took me up in it a few times. He even
let me fly it a little ways.”

The older man offered June his hand. “Tom
Bradford,” he said and then he gestured to the boy. “This is my
oldest, Lincoln.”

“Hi,” Lincoln waved as June smiled at
him.

“I’m the caretaker here. We live just up the
road in the house on the corner.”

June smiled and shook his hand. “Doctor June
Phillips.”

“Pleased to meet you.”

“Well, Tom,” Rob said, “I appreciate you
comin’ and checking us out to make sure we belong. Makes me feel
good about keeping Dad’s plane here, knowing you’re on your
toes.”

“No problem.” Tom grinned as he looked from
Rob to June and back again. “Just do me a favor and give me a call
if it’s after hours next time, huh?”

“Sure thing, Tom. Sorry we got you out of
the house.”

“Thanks again,” June added.

Tom waved as he wheeled the Jeep around and
headed back up the road.

“You’re dad’s plane?”

“I know,” Rob grinned wickedly. “Now I don’t
feel quite so bad about stealing it.”

When they got back in the car June drove
them through the gate, which closed behind them. They came to a
fork in the road. “Which way?”

“Left, and then left again,” Rob instructed,
following his instincts.

June did as instructed and they found
themselves on the airport’s tarmac. They could see in the darkness
a cluster of buildings along the flight line that ended with a row
of five hangars.

“It’s the middle one.” Rob pointed in the
general direction.

June rolled slowly along, finally stopping
in front of the hangar’s open door.

* * * * *

TOM AND LINCOLN HAD
just reached
their driveway when they saw another car, a Mercury Grand Marquis,
turn onto Apalachee Street and head toward the airport.

“Not another one,” Tom said in
exasperation. “Do you know that car?”

“No, sir. Maybe they’re with Mister
Tyler.”

As they watched, the car drove toward the
gate a little too fast, and then proceeded to push right through
it.

“Holy crap! If they are, he’s in a lot of
trouble.” Tom pulled his cell phone from his pocket.

* * * * *

JUNE WATCHED AS ROB
organized the
items that he had selected for his journey. It was true that she
had made the decision not to go with him to South America, but she
was feeling somewhat miffed about the fact that he had made no
attempt to convince her otherwise. It made no sense for her to
accompany him, but up to now, she felt he had needed her if for
nothing more than moral support.
Who am I kidding? For crying
out loud, the man is a U.S. Navy SEAL. He doesn’t need me. I’m just
acting like a little girl about it. And besides, I need to get back
to the babies.

Brushing away those thoughts, she turned her
attention to the planes parked inside the hangar. “Do you know
which one it is?”

“Is there more than one with pontoons?” he
asked, rummaging through the trunk of the car.

“No.”

“Then it’s the one with the pontoons.”

She saw it parked on the left side, nearest
to the door. It was an elegant-looking single-engine plane. It made
the others seem plain by comparison, not to mention small. Sitting
atop the landing gear under the pontoons, it towered over the other
aircraft. June had seen its type before when she was a child in
Africa. She and her family had flown to Madagascar in one similar
to it, though this one seemed a good bit smaller than the one she
remembered, and that plane was painted canary yellow. In the low
light, this plane’s hunter green and white paint job appeared gray
and black. She walked slowly around the plane, admiring its lines
before she climbed onto the starboard pontoon and peered through
cockpit window. She was admiring the clean uncluttered appearance
of the instrument panel when she heard a man’s voice behind.

“Doctor Phillips.”

She froze as her heart skipped a beat.
Slowly, she turned to see a shadowy figure standing in the open
doorway of the hangar, silhouetted in the moonlight.

“It
is
you, isn't it?” The man
sounded more than a little relieved.

“Who are you?” She looked around for Rob,
but he was nowhere to be seen.

“It's Neil. Neil Covington.”

Her heart dropped and her breath was stolen
away. Flashing through her mind was the horrific vision of Benny
being shot in the head, his warm blood showering her in the rainy
darkness, and his lifeless body falling into the mud. She started
to tremble, and felt queasy as her throat constricted. He was
wearing a suit, but she couldn’t make out much detail. His hands
were empty. He had been standing easily, nonthreatening, before he
took a few tentative steps inside. She could hear the smile on his
face as he spoke to her as if the two were old friends.

“Ah, Doctor Phillips, I'm so glad that I
found you. Are you alright?”

June’s knuckles were white, clutching the
plane’s strut. She scanned around the immediate area for
something—anything—that she could use as a weapon. There was
nothing that she could reach before he would be on her. “What?” It
was all she could think to say. Her mind turned to clay, gripped
with fear. She took a few deep breaths. “What do you mean? How did
you find me?”

Covington was completely at ease as he
spoke. “Oh, I guess I got lucky. But I'm surprised he remembered
this place.”

“He who?” June asked, knowing he was
referring to Rob.

“Orson.”

June knitted her eyebrows together in
genuine confusion. “Who?”

“That's what the professor named him when
they took him out of the nursery. Orson. That’s his name.”

“Named who?”

Covington decided to try a different
strategy, one he hoped would put June even more on the defensive.
“The clone you’re trying to steal. Where is he?”

June shook her head. “What are you talking
about? Trying to steal?” She looked straight at him. “You killed
the captain.”

He ignored the accusation, trying to keep
her off guard. “Has he hurt you?”

The question didn't make any sense. She felt
as if she was losing control. Again, she tried to turn the tables
on the assassin. “You killed Captain Walsh,” she said
forcefully.

“I had to, June.”

“What do you mean you had to?”

“I was there to protect the others. I was
security chief. I knew what the two of you were up to. I had to
kill him.”

“The two of
us
?”

“It’s over, June. I’m taking you back to
face up to what you’ve done. What you and the captain did.”

She shook her head, stepping off of the
pontoon. “I don't believe you. You’re crazy. You’re gonna kill
us.”

“Where's Orson, June?”

“I don't know.” She stepped backwards,
deeper into the hangar. And it was no lie. She was desperate to
find her companion, whatever Covington called him.

“Well, he must be here. Why else would you
be?”

She didn’t have a good answer for that one,
so she remained silent.

Covington took a few more steps toward her.
She back-peddled faster, nearly tripping over something on the
floor. He stopped and held his hands out. “It's okay. This doesn’t
have to get any more complicated. I don’t want you to get yourself
hurt. We just need to get going.”

“Going? Where?”

“Back to the complex. The others are
waiting.”

“The others?”

“Yeah. The professor, Doctor Cook, Jimmy.”
He paused, and then added, “and Commander Tyler. They're all
anxious to see how the … how Orson fared through all this.”

“Couldn't tell you how
he
fared.”
Rob's voice startled both of them in the darkness. “But I'm just
fine, thanks.”

Covington smiled, and looked deeper into the
hangar. “Orson? We need to go, buddy.”

“Only my mama calls me Orson. And you ain't
her.”

Covington gave June a puzzled look. “Does he
think that he's Tyler?”

“He
is
Tyler.”

“No, June,” Covington shook his head. “This
is the clone. The commander is in the hospital.” He nodded to the
back of the hangar where he believed the voice had come from. “Does
he have Tyler's memories?”

“Of course.” It was a half-truth, but there
was no reason to mention the memory loss. “He
is
Tyler,” she
repeated.

“That's incredible.” Covington was genuinely
astonished. “Yeoum said he wouldn’t. How far back can he
remember?”

“Don’tcha hate it when people talk about you
like you’re not in the room? I know I do,” Rob said.

Covington smiled again. “Sorry about that.
Look, Orson, I don't have any weapons.”

“All that tells me is that one of us is
armed and one of is a liar,” Rob replied.

“Why don't you come out where we can see
each other?”

“Can't think of a good reason not to. Just
as soon as you, very carefully, using the thumb and forefinger of
your left hand, reach around and take out that weapon that's tucked
under your jacket at the small of your back and drop it on the
floor.”

Covington smiled. Slowly, he reached around
and produced Jo Turner’s Sig Saur. But instead of dropping it, he
leveled it at June. “You did say only one of us is armed.”

June started to bolt but stopped in her
tracks when Covington shouted, “No, no, no Doctor Phillips. I'd
prefer it if you stayed right where you are. Orson, listen to me. I
don't want to hurt either of you. But the fact remains that we need
to leave here. There are some people who want to see you.”

“Well, I'm shy and June doesn't make house
calls. She's not that kind of doctor.”

Covington couldn't zero in on where the
voice was coming from. He started toward the port side of the
plane, keeping the 40 caliber trained on June. “You're a clone,
Orson. The real Tyler is—”

“Not likely,” Rob interrupted. “My folks
would have told me when I was thirteen at confirmation.”

“Do you mean to tell me you have memories
from that far back?”

“You have no idea.”

“Is that how you knew about your father’s
plane?”

“Well, you know what they say. You only
steal the planes of those you love.”

“Do you have other memories from your
childhood?” Covington was surprised at his own curiosity.

“Yes and no. But I do remember when dad gave
me a BB gun for Christmas one year. I nearly shot my eye out, just
like Mom warned.”

“Those are false memories, Orson. They're
not your own. They belong to the real Rob Tyler.”

June was trying to find Rob's voice, but it
seemed as if it was coming from all around her. She took a single
step toward the tail of the plane.

“I'm gonna have to insist you stop calling
me that,” Rob said, conversationally.

“It's your name, Orson. The one Chi gave you
when you were grown last week.”

“You know, you’re really kind of an annoying
person. I can see why June doesn’t think too highly of you.”

“My apologies. But seriously, we need to get
you back to the lab.”

June took another step.

“I can't. I have a lunch date with Castro
tomorrow.”

Covington laughed. “I gotta say, for a clone
you have an unusual sense of humor.”

When June took another step, she saw Rob's
dark form half kneeling on top of the fuselage of the Beaver, his
hands cupped around his mouth, throwing his voice toward the
ceiling.