Keeping Secrets

Author's Note: If this is your first time reading my stories, this is not the place to start. This story is tied to two others, Paradise and The Boy Who Could Fly. For those who have enjoyed this series, I hope you enjoy this little addition. The idea formed around the first scene. Grant

One Year Later

In a facility outside Washington, DC, a hundred feet within a mountain, they sat watching Liam hover in a spherical space that once had walls, floors, equipment, all the elements of a medical room. Liam had been brought during the night and was being monitored. Now it was empty, not one element remained of the components that had existed in the sphere of space. Had been since early that morning, when even Liam had disappeared, but after a few minutes, he reappeared, naked, still in some sleep state. He just hovered in the space, unmoving, unresponsive to the voices coming over the speakers. Lit by lights on tripods set up twenty feet away, he appeared an apparition, something that could disappear again.

Across the room, behind thick glass and steel panels, a wall that could handle a small explosion, sat the remainder of the team. Jonathan and Robert sat at a console with three doctors and a physicist, and behind them sitting and standing, were Preston, Wesley, Eli, and Reese. Pacing the room between everyone, on the verge of tears, was William, who kept asking questions no one could answer. In another room with monitors, Brody, Quinton, and Brandon sat in a group, feeling inadequate in ever way. They had no idea how to help, and Quinton and Brody had an anxiety and fear it could happen to them as well.

Liam had fell into the sleep state sometime the night before, and William had called Preston in a complete state of panic. Liam was unresponsive but seemed normal in every way. Preston called Chester and Robert, and within minutes a Sikorsky S76 was on the landing pad and Liam was put onboard. It had been a short flight, to a facility only Chester seemed to know about. At a landing pad down in a valley, they were loaded up on electric transport and driven deep into the mountain.

There had been doctors and scientist on staff, but before day’s end specialist were flown in. They examined Liam finding nothing wrong. It was five till ten that night when alarms went off, some electrical impulse hitting the system triggering them. No one knew what was happening, but they saw the charge around Liam begin, filament of white light arc around his entire body, then discharge into the electronics of the room. The monitors were shorted out, then the lights. It was William and Preston who knew something was really wrong and yelled for everyone to run. They cleared the room, rushing out into the common area that separated the medical and labs from the control center, and when they saw a sphere of charged light come through the wall, they continued running until behind the glass partition. The sphere stopped growing, some twenty-five feet in diameter and despite its charged appearance, nothing inside or out of it was being disturbed. Then everything inside the sphere was gone, including Liam.

William had screamed, and the others looked on in shock, a black sphere, dimly lit by the lights not cut off. Water ran out of severed pipes and its contact with wires sent sparks flying. One of the staff ran to an emergency panel and killed the power to the medical and lab section of the building, then they sat watching, waiting, for what, none of them knew.

A small dot of light appeared in the center of the spherical space, then Liam reappeared, still in a sleep state. He hovered in the center of the space, not moving in any way. Phone calls were made to John, then a few hours later another physicist showed up, and more doctors. Chester Anderson arrived early in the morning, going around to everyone seeing how they were holding up.

No one slept, everyone keeping watch, until the middle of the next day, when Brody, Quinton and Brandon left to help set up the food brought in for them. Before they had ate sandwiches and snacks, anything they could have brought to them. But with no change in Liam, better food was brought in, and cots for napping.

At two o’clock that afternoon, John received a call after putting out a request to Defense and NASA to be on the lookout for a section of a building to show up unexpectedly. He had been vague about where to look, for he didn’t know, but the physicist was sure the space had been taken somewhere, for it seemed unlikely it had been reduced to particles to dissipate into the air or ground. He listened to the caller, eyes growing wider.

“Are you sure?”

John listened, then shook his head in disbelief.

“Send us the images. Yes, we’re in Coeus.”

John ended the call and walked over to the doctors next to Robert, “we’re getting a file from NASA. Let one of us know as soon as it arrives.”

“What is it?” Robert asked as the others looked on.

“I don’t think I believe it. Let’s get the file and look at it first.”

“Got it,” Dr. Huang exclaimed as he opened the folder. There were images in it, and he clicked on one, bringing up a dry desert looking place, with a pile of debris lying on it.

“That’s definitely the missing area the lab, see the edge of the floor structure and that equipment there,” Dr. Sumpter, the physicist. “Hey, wait a minute, this is…” he stammered looking around at John.

“The surface of the moon. I know.”

“What the…” Jonathan stammered as everyone crowded around the monitor.

“An amateur astronomer in Arizona saw it last night, but he wasn’t sure what he was seeing and reported it. NASA at first thought it was debris from a crashed craft, maybe Russian or Chinese, until they realized it had concrete and heavy steel in it,” John explained. “Then they saw my request and put it together. Now everyone wants to know how, and I don’t have a clue what I’m going to tell them.”

“Tell them nothing,” Dr. Sumpter replied. “They’ll freak out about that young man’s ability and who knows what they will do then.”

“I agree,” said Preston, “don’t tell them how it happened. Let them assume some crazy experiment.”

“But what about Liam?” asked William standing at the console looking at him hover inside the empty sphere.

“There’s nothing wrong with him. He just needs to wake up,” Dr. Huang replied.

“Well, I’m going to wake him up,” William replied, rushing to the door before anyone could stop him. He raced out leaving Dr. Huang and John standing at the door, calling him back, but he slowed to a walk, crossing the common area until he was only a few feet from the spherical space.

“Liam…please wake up,” William pleaded.

Liam rotated, until he was upright, then his eyes opened.

“William, I’m sorry I’ve scared you.”

“What’s going on?”

“I’m working out some things. I don’t know how to explain it, but I just needed some time to figure it out.”

“Figure it out? Liam: talk to me,” William asked as Dr. Sumpter came up beside him.

“He’s unfolding another dimension, or able to just go into it, I’m not sure,” said Dr. Sumpter.

“Dr. Leonard Sumpter, it’s a pleasure to meet you. And I think you’re right. I’m not sure how I do it, but there is a space that I can now see.”

“How did you move the room to the moon?”

“I didn’t move it. I just closed it into this new space, then opened it again, elsewhere.”

“The moon?”

“Showing off a bit, I guess. Probably not the best place to do it,” Liam replied, smiling. “But I only meant to take the bed. I guess I’m not good at the parameters.”

“The parameters?” repeated Dr. Sumpter. “Jesus.”

“Liam, will you come out of there?” asked William.

“Oh, yes,” Liam replied, floating toward him, until he was able to step onto the floor outside the sphere.

Chester walked up, putting a hand on William’s shoulder. “I think we should move to a more comfortable place and talk.”

Lillian, Alabama

It started when Jessie ran off. Bobby knew his brother had been taking the worst of it, the constant demand to do things around the house their stepfather, Cecil, and mother, Lorene, rented a few blocks from Perdido Bay. Then last year it began. First it was a smack to the face or a punch to an arm, then the beatings grew worse, and they were always aimed at Jessie. Two months ago, Jessie didn’t come home from school. He was seventeen, a senior about to graduate. But Bobby understood he had taken all he could, and as much as he wanted to hate his brother for leaving him, he couldn’t do it. He’d seen the bruises and thought of the nights at the hospital getting an arm in a cast, or stitches for a cut, all explained away as Jessie being clumsy.

Bobby remembered how the doctor’s expression changed when they had taken Jessie in to get his arm set and into a cast. The explanation of a fall when climbing a tree. It made sense and avoided a ton of paperwork, and besides, they were just poor white trash. A couple of addicts with two boys who would be no better.

Jessie had talked of the two of them running away. The two of them finding a better life somewhere else. But when Jessie left, there had been a note left in Bobby’s backpack he wouldn’t discover until three days later.

Bobby,

I’m sorry, but I can’t take it. I know I promised to take you, but I don’t know how I’ll take care of myself. I just hope that asshole doesn’t start beating you, but if he does, run, to the police, or that church down the street. I don’t know where I’m going. I hope we find each other when we’re both away from them.

Jessie

Bobby was thirteen and felt a loneliness that tore him up inside. He rode his bike or walked the streets of Lillian, going down to the bay, roaming the pecan orchard on the west side of town, or sitting in the recreational park watching other boys play baseball. He stayed until it was dark, easing back inside after his mother and stepfather had passed out. He rummaged in the kitchen for something to eat, then closed himself up in his bedroom. He got books from a Free Little Library someone had put up a couple of streets over. He read them in bed until his mind drifted to the fantasy of another life, anything different from the one he felt trapped in.

One afternoon, after school, he rode his bike down 7th Street to the boat launch and sat on the pier watching a couple of boats being put into the bay. He walked along the pier that ran along the shore, cut around a fence, and out onto the sand beach. With his shoes in one hand, he waded in the shallow waters along the shore looking at the small fish, hermit crabs, and one small crab that disappeared before he could get a good look at it.

After going about a hundred feet he came upon a small fish right at the water’s edge, and he trapped it with his hands, wanting to see it up close. He held it in one palm, the fish gasping for breath and he wondered what it would be as an adult. What would it look like?

The fish began to grow, getting larger and larger, until Bobby had to hold it with both hands. It grew into a trout, then began to look aged. The scales dulled, and the eyes milked over then the fish died. Bobby tossed it into the bay, as his heart raced in his chest. He didn’t understand it, but knew, at some level, wanting to make the fish grow up, it had done so in his hands.

He waded out of the water and sat on the beach. He calmed himself, wondered if some of his mother’s drugs had been put in his lunch, knowing the timing for the effects was off. He went up into the grass area under the trees, and found a daffodil just sprouting from the ground. He touched it, wanting it to grow. It leaves grew longer, the stem sprouted up and soon the daffodil was in full bloom, the seeds carried off in the wind. Bobby fell back on his ass and stared at the fully mature plant. He touched it again, and watched it grow old, wither, and die.

For days afterward, Bobby experimented with this magic, for he couldn’t imagine it as anything else. He made plants grow old, seed, and die. He found a baby bird that had fallen from its nest and he aged it enough it could fly away, and he smiled, happy to do good.

He kept his magic a secret, telling no one, which was easy enough, since he was considered trash by most of his classmates, warned to stay away from him by their parents who knew his mother and her junky husband. He wondered, even hoped it could do it in reverse, finding a dead squirrel in the road. He lay a finger on it and imagined it coming back and growing younger, but the lifeless body never moved. He frowned at his inability to give it life, but he took off for places yet explored, to find something to save, as he had done the baby bird.

On his fourteenth birthday, he rode his bike home from school, wondering if his parents would remember, and get him some gift. Anything that would remind him he still mattered. The house was quiet, and he eased inside to find his mother passed out on the dirty sofa, a can of beer about to fall from one hand. In back, he heard his stepfather stirring around. Setting his backpack down, he eased to his mother and stooped down next to her, wondering why she couldn’t be like the mothers of his classmates. He reached out to take the beer from her hand to keep it from spilling on the floor.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Cecil yelled, coming into the room.

“I was just…”

“That is not yours,” Cecil yelled, and before Bobby knew what was happening, a burning pain radiated from the left side of his face.

“I was just…”

“Don’t talk back to me,” Cecil yelled again, and Bobby found himself on his back, Cecil sitting on his chest, choking him. “You ungrateful piece of shit.”

Bobby grabbed Cecil’s wrist and wished he would grow old and die. He wanted to be free of Cecil’s meanness. The grip tightened and Bobby believed he was going to die. Then it loosened, and Cecil tried to pull away, but he held tight to the wrist. He watched Cecil change, turn gray, skin grow paler, age. He saw the eyes change, then a gurgled cry escape as Cecil aged rapidly, growing old before his eyes. Then Cecil toppled over, falling face down on the floor.

“Jesus, what did you do?” Lorene exclaimed, a look of shear terror on her face.

Ten miles to the west, in Elberta, Bobby sat with Lorene in the small police station. Cecil had been taken to a morgue in Foley for examination, for no one believed the story Lorene kept repeating. It was crazy talk from a junkie.

Bobby had refused to talk ever since being brought in late yesterday, sitting mute, terrified by the place he found himself, and the uniformed men standing around the room. There was a social services person on their way and talk of taking Bobby from Lorene, who was hysterical, clutching at Bobby one minute, pushing him away the next, calling him the devil and the beast.

The captain gave up questioning Lorene, and Bobby overheard him tell one of his men, Cecil’s records were obviously fucked up, there was no way he was only 42, and to check them again.

At noon, a woman came in, a satchel over one shoulder, introducing herself as Rose Knotts, from Social Services. She sat in front of Bobby and Lorene and frowned when Lorene leaned back, closing her eyes, unable to stay awake. She talked with Bobby for about twenty minutes, then pulled the captain aside.

“We need to get the boy away from her. She can’t take care of herself, much less a child.”

“I know, but where will you send him?”

Rose frowned, knowing what the Captain meant, that children put in foster homes did not always do well, sometimes worse.

“So, what really happened out there?” Rose asked to change the subject.

“Hell, if I know. Every record on Cecil Fuller says he is forty-two years old, but that man we took out of that house looked ninety.”

“There are diseases that make people age quickly.”

“Yes, but Cecil was not diagnosed with such, and if he had it, he would have been dead years ago. I’ve made some calls, but so far nothing that makes sense.”

“I need to go, for I have one more appointment, but I’ll make a call on the way and have someone come pick the boy up.”

“Thanks, for we didn’t know what to do, and knew he could not go back with her,” the Captain replied, nodding toward Lorene, passed out in the chair next to Bobby. “I’ll walk you out.”

Rose, followed by the Captain, came out of the low one-story building, turning left toward the small parking lot where two cruisers and Rose’s small Chevy sedan sat. Rose shielded her eyes from the intense sunlight, made worse by the unrelenting heat. The air was humid, stifling hot, and gnats swarmed around them.

“I’ll call you with the details when I get them worked out,” said Rose as she shook the Captain’s hand and headed toward her car.

Two military vans pulled into the parking lot, Eglin AFB on the side of each one. The rear door slid open on each and armed men piled out, while two men climbed out of the passenger seat of each one.

“What in the hell,” the Captain uttered as Rose and he froze, watching the armed men make a perimeter at the front of the police station. The men approached, and the Captain saw the insignias. One had two stars and the other an eagle on their uniforms, a Major General and a Colonel. The Colonel approached first, stopping a few feet away.

“Captain Meadows, we understand you have a Bobby Bradberry in custody.”

“Yes, but…”

“We need to take the boy. It’s for his own safety. Is he inside?”

“Now wait a minute, you can’t…” said Rose, getting cut off by the Colonel.

“Yes, in fact we can. This is a situation neither of you understand, and if we don’t take Bobby Bradberry into custody, there are some people who worry he’ll fall into the wrong hands.”

“The wrong hands?” Rose repeated, but before she could say anything else the two men walked past her and into the police station.

Rose followed the Captain back inside, where the Colonel was stooping down in front of Bobby, whispering too low for them to hear. They saw Bobby nod his head, the Colonel place a hand on his knee, gently, a comforting gesture, then the two of them stand up. Lorene never woke and saw her youngest son walk out of the police station with the two military officers. They got into the vans, and the armed men piled back into the back. With doors closed, the vans circled out of the parking lots and headed down Main Street, turning right on 98, heading east, toward Florida, and Eglin AFB.

The Mountain

The guys were gathered in the main living room, sitting around listening to Liam try to explain what had happened. Robert, Jonathan, and Reese were sitting with them. The pantry door swung open and Chester came through the kitchen into the living room to join them. He had gone home first, then taken the tunnel through the mountain. Standing at the back of the room, he listened to Liam talk of opening some space that existed, one they couldn’t see. Another dimension that was within our visible space, and he frowned, for he was worried.

The different agencies had been worried ever since they found out about Wesley and Liam. When Eli showed up, he had fought with one group after the next, each wanting to bring the boys in and study them, find out how they did it, knowing they may never know the answer to that, even if he had complied. But he had pushed back, went over one head after the next, until he talked to Allen and Walker, the shadows over all the other agencies.

But now he worried, this would make one of them act. His cell phone rang, and he eased out to the balcony to answer.

“John, where do we stand?”

“Right now, we have something else to worry about.”

“Oh.”

“There’s another boy.”

“Damn. We don’t need this right now.”

“I know, but right now, everyone is scared to death of this kid. Everyone is willing to back off and let you go in and retrieve him.”

“They already have him in custody?”

“Yes; Eglin.”

“The Air Force has him?”

“They didn’t know where else to send him, and the base has a hospital on it.”

“Is he hurt?”

“No, but they wanted to run some basic test on him. Chester, I don’t want them to change their minds. How quick can you guys get him?”

“Fifteen minutes, if you let Wesley go.”

“No. That would be revealing too much. The base is secure, but not that secure. Go in normal and get him.”

“Okay, I’ll get with Preston and get in the air as soon as possible.”

“Take Preston and Eli but leave Wesley and Liam behind.”

“Okay John, but are you sure that is wise?”

“Probably not, but let’s not chance it.”

“I’ll let you know when we are about to take off.”

Andrews Air Force Base

Washington, DC

The dark bronze Gulfstream 650 ER sat on the tarmac, ladder down, ready to take off, when a Sikorsky S-76 landed nearby. Robert, Eli, Jonathan, and Reece exited the helicopter headed to the jet. A few second later, Preston climbed down, satchel over one shoulder and followed. For some of the personnel, it was a familiar sight, one they had seen before, but for others, seeing civilians with this kind of access on the base was a surprise, and something their commanders told them to forget, for anyone caught discussing it would be court martialed.

The jet spooled up its engines as the door was secured. It taxied to the runway, stopped long enough to spool the engines up even more, then thundered down the runway and lifted off. It was four PM, the sun beginning to drop in the western sky, and in ninety minutes the plane would be touching down at Eglin AFB.

Eli moved back next to Reece, looking over at Preston, Jonathan and Robert, as they reviewed the file Chester had just forwarded to them.

“Well, who is he?” Eli asked and he saw Robert frown.

“The boy is one Robert Ryan Bradberry, son of Lorene Fuller, who had remarried three years ago. Her husband was one Raymond Cecil Fuller, officially deceased as of four thirty-three yesterday afternoon. Cause of death. Extreme aging.”

“Extreme aging?” Reece asked.

“He ages things?” Eli whispered.

“It would seem so. And we’re not sure he can control it and been told not to let him touch you,” Robert replied.

“But he’s not a lab rat, we can’t…”

“Eli,” Preston interrupted him. “Let’s see what the situation on the ground is like before we decide. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“What else?” asked Jonathan.

“He’s fourteen years old, and the state was going to take him from his mother who is an addict. Pretty bad one by this report. So was the stepfather. And…this is interesting.”

“What?”

“There’s an older brother who ran away a couple of months ago. Bobby said Cecil was abusing him.”

“Do we know where he’s at?”

“No, but I’d like to find him. He may be able to help with Bobby. Jonathan, you think you can track him down?”

“If he’s in the system, we should be able to find him.”

“Well, we have forty minutes before we land, so get started,” Robert replied, and he saw Jonathan smile, one he come to recognize as a sign of determination. Even Reece recognized it, turning to talk to Eli and Preston, leaving Jonathan alone with his computer.

Eglin AFB

Fort Walton Beach, Florida

At five thirty-seven, the dark bronze jet touched down at Destin-Fort Walton Beach Airport, located next to Eglin AFB. It taxied to a hanger on the opposite side from the terminal where two Chevrolet Suburban’s were parked. Within minutes the team was on their way, pulling out to a freeway heading south. A few turns and only minutes away, they pulled into the drop-off lane in front of the Eglin AFB Hospital.

Led by their driver, a captain in the Air Force, they went into the hospital, up the elevator to the second floor. Down one corridor, then another, until passing through guarded double doors to a wing that had been sealed off from the remainder of the hospital. They proceeded toward the room being guarded at the end of the corridor. Robert’s cellphone rang, and with one quick glance at the screen, accepted the call.

“John, we just got to the hospital.”

“Good. Now how quick can you get the boy and get back to DC?”

“You’re fucking kidding me.”

“Afraid not. We have a situation, and its bad. We need your team, so get the boy and get in the air as soon as you can.”

“Okay, I’ll let you know when we’re on the way back to the airport.”

“What was that about?” Jonathan asked, coming up beside Robert.

“Something has come up and they need us back in DC. We’re to get the boy and get in the air asap.”

“Shit, we need to talk with him first, gain his trust and…we can’t just snatch him up and take off.”

“I know. Eli, come here.”

“Robert?”

“We’re on the clock and need to get back in the air as quickly as we can. I need you to gain this boy’s trust and relax him enough to accept coming back to DC with us.”

“Okay, but I think we’ll need the room alone, if you know what I mean.”

“I do.”

As they came to the door, a doctor stepped out of the room, a folder tucked under one arm.

“How is he?” Robert asked.

The doctor looked at the captain, who nodded his head, then turned back to Robert. “He seems fine. He is malnourished, but a healthy diet will take care of that in a short time. But he is obviously upset at the situation he has found himself, and keeps asking who is coming for him.”

“So, he knows he is not going back home?”

“Honestly, I think he is hoping he doesn’t have to go back.”

“Yeah, well, I can’t say I’m surprised. Can we see him now?”

“Yes, by all means.”

Robert went in first, followed by Eli and Jonathan, with Preston and Reece staying in the corridor to make arrangements for their flight back. They had planned to take a couple of days, really gain the boy’s trust, but John’s phone call changed all of that.

Robert went to the foot of the bed and Eli eased to the side, sitting in the lone armchair in the room. Jonathan stayed back near the door.

“Bobby, we’re here to help you,” said Robert.

“And how will you do that?” Bobby replied, and there was a defiance in the tone, and hurt too.

“We think we understand what is going on with you, although we can’t explain it, but we know we can help.”

“Really? You think you know me? You think you know what is happening to me?”

“Yes,” Eli cut in, drawing the boy’s attention.

“And what could you know?”

Eli looked toward a mirror that was on the wall behind Robert. He looked at it only a second, when it became wavy, distorted, then it melted, dripped down on the floor, a hot liquid that burned the surface of the wall and floor. Then the melted glass and silver backing crept back up the wall, reformed in the frame, and soon harden back as a mirror. The only evidence left behind were the scorched marks down the wall and the burned area on the floor. Bobby sat stunned, staring at the mirror, then he looked at Eli.

“You too?”

“Not just me.”

“There are others? Like us?”

“Yes, and we want you to come back with us. It will be strange at first, but I think you’ll find it is better than staying here.”

“What can they do? The others?”

Eli smiled, leaned forward, lowering his voice, “one can fly, so fast it will scare the crap out of you, and the other one? Well, we thought he could control electromagnetic energy, but this past week we found out it is a bit more complicated.”

“More complicated?”

“Yeah. He put a section of his medical room on the moon.”

“On the moon?”

“Jonathan? You have those photos, of Liam in the lab and the room debris on the moon?”

“Yes, but do you think we…”

“Show him,” Robert cut in.

Jonathan pulled out his laptop from his satchel and opened it. He hit a few keys, eyes going back and forth as he brought up the files. He moved to the bed, holding the laptop out to Eli.

Eli turned it around, and stood by Bobby’s bed, laying it on his lap. Bobby looked at the image of Liam hovering in the empty spherical space.

“Holy shit.”

“And there is this.”

The image of the debris on the moon opened, with a tag from NASA and top secret stamped over it.

“That is the stuff from around him?”

“Yeah.”

“And it’s on the moon?”

“Yep.”

“Wow…I mean, all I can do is make things age.”

“Can you stop it before they die?”

“Oh, yes, I saved a baby bird that couldn’t fly. I aged it enough so it could.”

“So, what happened with your stepfather?”

“He scared me so. He was sitting on top of me, choking me so hard. I couldn’t breathe and I really thought he was going to kill me. So, I grabbed his wrist and…didn’t let go.”

“Cecil abused your brother?” asked Robert.

“Yes, sir. Way worse than me. He…” Bobby’s voice broke, and tears pooled in his eyes.

“Do you know where Jessie went?” Eli asked.

“No. I have no idea.”

“Maybe we can find him.”

“You think so?”

“Maybe. If he opens a bank account or gets on someone’s payroll or does anything that becomes a public record, then we should be able to track him down,” said Jonathan.

“Bank account? Payroll? He’s only seventeen.”

“We know, but sooner or later, he has to do something that creates a trail.”

“Bobby, I’m sorry, but we don’t have a lot of time. We need to get back to DC. Will you come with us? We’ll put you up with the guys and see if we can work out what you can do, the extent of this power you have and how you can control it. The others may be able to help with that.”

“I’ll be staying with the other guys?” Bobby asked, then he turned to Eli, “I would get to stay with you?” It was obvious in the tone, Bobby wanted to be with Eli and the other guys. He wanted to be around those like himself.

Eli more than the others saw it. This boy from a poor family, who probably went day to day, with little hope for a happy future. He knew the feeling. And for Bobby, coming with them would be a pathway to a life no one could imagine. He lifted the laptop from Bobby’s lap, put a hand on his shoulder getting his full attention.

“How about you get dressed and we get out of here. There’s a jet at the airport being readied for our flight back.”

“A jet?”

Eli and the other’s smiled. Jonathan stuck his head out of the door, and they could hear him.

“Preston, has anyone got the boy some clothes and toiletries?”

“Yes, they just brought everything up.”

Jonathan came back with a duffel bag, “Eglin AFB” on the side of it, and sat it on the bed.

“Here you go. It’s not much, but we can get you squared away when we get back.”

“Thanks,” Bobby replied, sliding the duffel bag closer, unzipping it, and pulling out jeans, a shirt and underwear. There were socks in the bottom and a pair of running shoes, and a toilet case. Everything was new, the tags still on each item.

“Eli, why don’t you help him get ready and meet us in the corridor,” said Robert, motioning for Jonathan to follow him out.

Eli removed tags and laid out the clothing as Bobby slipped on the boxers and the jeans, then slipping the belt around his waist. When Eli held out the shirt, he saw Bobby was wide eyed, looking confused.

“What is it?”

“I’ve never had new clothes before.”

Eli smiled, while helping Bobby slip one arm then the other into the shirt, and he pulled it around the skinny torso, and began to button it up as Bobby stared at him.

“I’m sorry things had been so tough, and there will be more tough times ahead, but I promise you won’t go to bed hungry.”

“Are we really flying on a jet?”

Eli smiled, then picked up the socks, holding them out, “get your shoes on. They’re waiting on us.”

The suburban pulled away from the hospital and drove back to the base. Bobby looked at the unfamiliar landscape as they drove, until they were at the airport, going past support buildings, then out to the tarmac. The dark bronze jet sat in the bright Florida sun, ready for takeoff and Bobby sat up, looking at it as they pulled up close.

“Okay, let’s get on board,” said Robert as he climbed out first.

Eli guided Bobby to a seat and sat across from him, thinking about how the guys had helped him adjust to being a part of the group. The engines began to spool up as the door was closed and secured, and within a minute they were taxing out to the runway.

Eli saw the tight grip Bobby had on the arm of the chair, and he reached over and tapped his arm. When Bobby turned around, obviously scared about flying, he smiled.

“Relax, it’s not bad. Occasionally it is bumpy, like going down a washed-out road, but it’s better than riding in a car for hours.”

Bobby nodded his head and turned back to the window.

The jet pulled on the runway, stopped for a brief time, spooling up the engines, then it thundered down the runway, nose up first, then the rest of the plane, climbing upward as it looped out over Choctawhatchee Bay, Destin on the opposite side, out over the gulf, on around until it was heading north. It gained altitude then slowly leveled off, somewhere over southern Alabama.

“How long will it take to get to DC?”

“About ninety minutes.”

“That’s all?”

“Yep.”

Eli watched Bobby settle in this seat, head up to the window looking at the terrain passing underneath. He wondered about Bobby, if he was like the rest of them. There had been nothing in his report to suggest one way or the other. No bullying that would hint at being different. At first, he considered Bobby a little less mature than other boys his age, but then he saw something else. It wasn’t immaturity, but some naivety from being so isolated from general society. He circled around the question, wondering whether, or not to ask in some manner, but when he heard Robert and Preston talking to someone on the phone, he swiveled around to listen.

Charleston, South Carolina

The large cranes lifted containers from the ships, setting them on flat bed trailers to be pulled away or stacking them in one of the many rows of containers waiting to be processed. A constant movement of products destined for homes throughout the region, and across the country.

A white van pulls down one aisle, slowly, the passenger and driver looking for a specific container. They pull down near the end of the aisle and stop, both exiting the van. The container is on the ground, and they glance around before cutting the locks. Doors swung open, the container appears empty, only four wood boxes sit inside, secured to a pallet. The two men check the pallet, then release the straps holding it in place. The driver pries one open. Inside is a metal box with three switches, two are toggle type, and one is a rotary knob. Along the side of it are four glass containers with metal lids, each connected to the box with aircraft grade tubing.

“It looks good. Close it up and let’s get them loaded,” the other guy says to the driver.

The box is closed, gently hammered back in place, and the two men load them into the back of the van. The driver closes the container and hangs the cut locks back in the hasps, to make it look secure. The container is set to be shipped out in a month, so it’ll sit undisturbed long enough for them to complete their mission.

The port is on the eastern side of Wando River, on the outskirts of Mount Pleasant, across the river from Charleston. The van leaves the port, driving to the other side of I-526, where shopping centers and other business sit on each side of the road. They pull into a fast food restaurant, circling the building in the drive-thru lane. With an order in hand, they pull around the building to the back side of the lot and back into a parking space. The two men eat, watching the flow of cars moving around the restaurant. They don’t talk, just watch the activity, the passenger occasionally shaking his head.

A few minutes later, two cars and an SUV pull in and park nearby. The cars are nondescript, white sedans, one a Ford and one a Chevrolet. The SUV is a black Chevrolet, one of many in the parking lot of the restaurant. The drivers get out and come to the van, retrieving one box, and putting it in the back of their vehicles. The driver of the van nods at the men, and they all prepare to leave.

The four vehicles follow each other to I-526 and head north. They don’t stay close to each other, scatter themselves among the other traffic as they cross over the Wando River, Daniel Island, and the Cooper River. The smell of the paper mill is a foul stench as they leave the bridge, following I-526 as it turns to the west, then turns to the southwest. At the interchange, they exit onto I-26 and head north. Until they get past Summerville and Sangaree, traffic is heavy, then it filters out. They drive along with the cars, SUVs, trucks and tractor-trailer rigs hauling cargo containers. After about forty-five minutes, they come to I-95. The van keeps going straight, but the two cars and SUV exit, the cars heading north and the SUV heading south.

By the next morning, all four have reached their destinations. At 11:30 AM, just before most workers take their lunch hour, social media will be flooded with a message, one designed to so terror in the population.

42,000 Ft. Over Georgia

“While we were at Eglin, a message went out over various social media platforms. It’s a terrorist threat to release a pathogen into the air. They claim there will be four, in major cities, and it will happen in twenty-four hours,” said Robert.

“Twenty-four hours? Why the wait?” asked Eli.

“To build up the fear and terror in the population, and four targets is enough to scare the whole country,” replied Jonathan. “But Richard, it is hard to get something like that into the country. They would have come through only one port, and I would bet they moved the stuff quickly and got it set up to release.”

“I agree. Where would you bring something like that into the country?”

“New York is huge and might be the easiest to bring it in, but getting it to other locations could be problematic, especially if they’re moving as quickly as they can. Charleston and New Orleans for the eastern part of the country and San Francisco on the west coast.”

“The west coast gives them fewer options and New York City has to be one target. I would bet Charleston is the port. They could move up and down the eastern seaboard from there,” said Preston.

“Makes sense. New Orleans would give easy access to Dallas, Atlanta, or even Miami, but not New York,” Jonathan added.

“Well, its all a hunch now. John has some guys tracking the messages and so far, they think it originated somewhere in North Carolina,” said Robert.

“North Carolina?” puzzled Preston. “You think they would target Charlotte? It’s a banking center. Not the biggest, but if you’re operating along the east, and brought the stuff in through Charleston, then Charlotte would be an easy target, and with New York, it would be enough to really disrupt markets.”

Robert picks up his phone and pulls up a contact. “Wesley, I need you in Charleston, searching for a container that isn’t right…yes…it is…I have no idea what to tell you to look for…a container that isn’t suppose to be there, one opened, or, hell, I don’t know. Can you get down there and look around?” said Robert into his cellphone. He nodded his head as he listened, then he swiveled around and faced Preston. “We’ll be on the ground in about forty-five minutes.”

“What if it is the west coast instead of the east?” asked Jonathan.

“Then we’re scrambling even faster,” Robert replied as he pulled up an image of the United States, zooming in to the eastern seaboard. “Which cities would you target, assuming you brought the stuff into Charleston?”

“New York, DC, Charlotte and Atlanta,” replied Preston.

“Not sure I agree with Charlotte. I think Atlanta and Miami, the latter a destination for a lot of foreign tourist,” replied Jonathan.

“Why Atlanta?” asked Reece, speaking up for the first time.

“It’s one of the largest cities, a major hub for Delta with one of the busiest airports,” replied Jonathan.

“We could be wrong on every one of these,” Robert exclaimed, frustrated at having to guess.

“But they are good guesses. We just have to confirm it,” said Preston.

“In less than twenty-four hours, we have to confirm it, find the targets and neutralize them,” added Robert.

“Fuck,” Reece uttered, and the cabin fell silent.

Bobby turned to Eli, and it was obvious he had heard everything. He looked scared, almost white. “Eli, what will happen?”

“We’ll find the stuff and deal with it,” Eli replied confidently, although he felt anything but confident.

The Mountain

Wesley disappeared within seconds of hanging up with Robert, and the others sat around worried. They had seen the threat. Anyone who was on a social media site, saw it. Quinton and Brody disappeared, the two of them going to the living room at the far end of the house, where they would try to comfort each other. Brandon had left with Chester, going through the mountain to the Anderson’s residence. It left Liam and William sitting alone. Ever since they got back from the hospital, there existed a tension between them, William not sure how to approach Liam.

Liam stood, holding out a hand to help William stand.

“Let’s go to our room.”

William smiled, one full of worry, and took Liam’s hand. They eased through the house, up the stair and down to their room. William went in first and Liam followed, closing the door and locking it.

For all the commotion downstairs, the second floor was quiet. Only the sound of air being moved by the air conditioning was creating any sound, a soft white noise, that was comforting, nearly as much as the cool air accompanying it. With the bedroom door closed, the quiet seemed like a mist in the air, palpable in some manner.

Liam led William to their bed, and standing next to it, began to undress him. Slowly, fingers working gently down the row of buttons of the shirt, until it fell open. William smiled at Liam as it was slipped from his shoulders, dropping to the floor. Liam kissed him, raking the back of one hand up the smooth chest.

“Shouldn’t we be…”

“Shhhh,” Liam interrupted William, then kissed him again.

Liam moved along the jaw, feeling the stubble, the roughness of it, and it aroused him, the masculine nature of it. He kissed the spot below the ear, that special place that made William moan and crunch up his shoulders before relaxing to the manipulation.

“I need you,” Liam whispered, as he began to undo the button of the jeans, tug the zipper down, then ease to his knees, working everything down William’s legs. He helped him work free of the clothing until naked. Liam looked up at the familiar body, one he knew how to please. He leaned forward and kissed the abdomen, just below the navel feeling the trail of hair tickle his nose.

When Liam stood, William cupped the back of his neck and pulled their lips together while pressing his nakedness against him. He felt the firm body against his own, even the hardening cock that pressed against his own.

William tugged his polo shirt off, worked the jeans open and eased down on his knees to help Liam slip free of his clothes. He leaned forward and slipped him into his mouth until the cock was fully erect, the shaft rock hard and the head flared out wide. He stood up and guided him to their bed.

Liam lay on William, their bodies warm against each other, as they moved and undulated, pushing erections against the other. Lips moved over firm flesh as hands roamed over contours and fingers dug into muscle, desperate for every touch. They rolled over the bed, laying on top of each other, then side by side.

William wanted more, and he pushed Liam to his back and straddle him. Soon he was easing down on him, feeling the penetration, the stretch of his opening, as he took inch after inch. Soon he was moving up and down, slowly, feeling every inch push inward, then tug out. He felt the fullness of the penetration when he went down and the emptiness when he rose up all the way. He loosened to the penetration until Liam moved through his opening easily, taking the hard, thick cock deeper and deeper. He began to move faster, move with an urgency fueled by desire, lust, a primitive need that he felt within.

The bed began to rock, to squeak in rhythm with William’s movements, and it aroused them more, this physical reflection of their desires. Their very surroundings affected by this fuck, everything blurred out, only Liam in focus. Liam dug his fingers into the flexing thighs, feeling the muscle flex with William’s movement. He pushed up with his hips as William dropped down, their bodies smacking together.

“Fuck…I’m…” Liam uttered, unable to finish, as he shoved upward and came. He felt his cock flex inside of William as it shot wad after wad deep inside of him.

William fell still, Liam buried inside of him, breathing hard. He leaned back on his hands and waited to catch his breath, as he felt a hand slide up one thigh then take his leaking cock.

“Do me,” Liam whispered.

William was on top, Liam’s legs around his waist. He thrust into the depths of Liam’s body, slowly, pushing inward all the way. He moved inside of him building up his arousal. Every push in, stroked him up. He began to sweat again, feeling feverish with desire.

Unable to hold back, William began to fuck harder, faster, as Liam clung to him. Every touch was hot, and their bodies moved slickly over the other, and William felt the urgency in the hands that moved over his back, down to his ass, clinging to each cheek. He jammed his cock into Liam’s depths and shuddered with release.

Charleston, South Carolina

Wesley didn’t worry about being seen, there wasn’t time. He went to the last row, the one on the far south side and made his way up and back down, checking the containers on each side. He swung into the next row, frustrated at not knowing what he was really looking for. The containers were not in perfect rows, in places scattered around. He moved as fast as he could, until he came to the end of the row, a section where containers appeared to be set aside and he flew down one side, flipped around and down the other. He went up, to check out the layout again, and saw a few containers sitting in a triangulated area of the staging ground, and he went to them. He circled the loose grouping and saw nothing. Flying over the containers, he dropped down in the next row and flew down it, looking to his left at each one. At the end of the aisle, he flipped around and headed back, checking the other side. He was near the end when he spotted the shine of cut metal. He flew back to it, and saw it was a cut lock, hung back in place. He landed and found all the locks cut. He removed them and swung the doors open. An empty pallet with straps scattered around it sat in the middle of it.

“This has to be it,” Wesley uttered to himself, more out of hope than any sense he was right.

A truck sped up to the container and three men came toward Wesley, each one looking terrified.

“Are you…you…Wesley?” the one in the lead asked.

Wesley realized it was him they were terrified, and he smiled, noting the name on the man’s coveralls. “Yes, Mark, I’m Wesley. I need everything you got on this container and all the security footage that covers this area.

They stood around the small security office, Wesley and Mark hovering over one of the guards as he searched video from the cameras on site. Wesley glanced up and saw the trucks coming in, making their way through security. Everyone is checked coming in and going out, so he was confident the cameras had captured them at some point.

“Stop; back up,” said Mark and Wesley leaned down next to them. “There, that white van.”

They saw the white van drive up to the container, two men get out, cut the locks and enter it. A few minutes later, they came out, each carrying a simple wood box. Wesley watched as they went back into the container and retrieved two more. One of the men closed the container and hung the cut locks back into the hasps. Then the van pulled away.

For the next few minutes, the video was brought up that showed the van going through the security check to enter, then the same at the exit. They got tag numbers, model and make of the van, noting a black scuff mark on the back below the taillight. Wesley relayed the information to Jonathan as soon as he got it, the two on their cell phones.

“Wesley, we need to see who the men in that van hooked up with. They didn’t take the four boxes to each destination. They had help,” said Jonathan.

“So, what do I do?”

“Look around that area. I bet the hand off was nearby and they got on the interstate and each went their own way when they got to I-95.”

“Okay, I’ll have Mark here send you everything they got,” replied Wesley, and he thanked Mark and left. He moved down the corridor to an exit and stepped out on a landing. He turned away from the stair that led down, and lifted off.

He had not flown far when he stopped, hovering over an apartment complex located behind a shopping center, looking at all the places the men could have stopped. He called Jonathan.

“We need John to put a crew on calling these businesses. See who has security cameras.”

“We’re on it already.”

It takes boots on the ground, solid investigative work, and an ability to filter overwhelming information to find the thread that leads to a discovery. And sometimes, it takes shear luck, some happenstance. Jonathan called Wesley thirty minutes later, finding him flying over the Cooper River, trying to find something.

“Get back here now.”

“What did you find?”’

“We got lucky. There is a fast food joint that recently installed cameras after having some issues with vandals. They did this just four days ago.”

“After our guys scoped them out?”

“It would seem so. They parked right in the middle of the cameras view. We got all four vehicles and doing a search now.”

“Great, I’ll be there shortly,” Wesley replied, going up until he was high in the sky, then he was gone.

The Mountain

It was after nine, and the tension in the house was palpable. Jonathan and Preston were at the computers, fingers still typing away furiously, then sorting through new data coming to them. Robert sat behind them and Chester sat at the back of room, ready to give assistance. Wesley, Liam, Eli and Reese hovered in the background. Reese kept going to the large monitor on the wall, looking at the map of the eastern seaboard, then the other monitors showing some of the information Jonathan and Preston were plowing through.

The van had been spotted in Charlotte, North Carolina, seen going into downtown, but no additional word on its whereabouts. The black Chevrolet Tahoe was recorded crossing the state line going into Florida, and caught on a State Trooper’s dash cam just above Daytona, then there had been nothing. The two cars, a Ford Fusion and a Chevrolet Malibu, were seen at a gas station in Lumberton, North Carolina, and outside Wilson, North Carolina, the Ford was spotted on a State Trooper’s dash cam. Everyone worried the two cars separated until a security camera in Richmond picked up both cars.

Every agency with the ability was searching DC for one, or both cars. At seven, word came through the Fusion was found abandoned in a parking lot in Springfield, just west of Alexandria. Security cameras around the lot were checked, one capturing the car entering the parking lot and another seeing it park. Next to it was a Volkswagen Golf, and the camera captured the driver putting a box in the back and driving off.

The driver of the Chevrolet Malibu was more careless, stopping for gas and food at places that had security cameras, and different agencies were able to piece its path together until it was crossing the Verrazzano-Narrows Bridge into Brooklyn. Then they found it going over the Manhattan Bridge and down into the Financial District where it pulled into a parking deck.

Swat and FBI were sent to the parking deck only to find the car abandoned. They watched video of all the vehicles that left the deck after the Chevrolet arrived, checking each one, until they had a list of eight rental cars. Shortly after, they had the list down to one, the other seven located with the renters in New York for business. It was a Nissan Altima, silver in color and hit was spotted going west for a couple of blocks before they lost it.

Robert rolled back and spun to face Reese.

“If you were these guys, where would you release the pathogen?”

“It’s heavier than air, it will only float for a short time before settling to the ground, but they only need to infect a few, but for maximum effect, to get it into our population the fastest, I’d release it high up, from the top of a building. Get it in the wind and with the canyon effect, it will spread for…blocks.”

“That’s New York. What about DC?”

“The principle will be the same, although the city doesn’t have the skyscrapers, and getting it up a place like the Washington Monument would be damn near impossible,” said Reece, pulling up DC on the monitor.

“They could drive around the city and spray it themselves,” said Preston, looking around the room.

“I considered that. How far can wind carry it?”

“Depends on what kind of shit they are going to release, but if our guess is right, and the wind is strong enough, it could carry it some distance before settling to the ground.”

“We’re overthinking it. If I were doing this, knowing these pathogens can spread quickly among an urban population, I would just focus on getting it in the air somewhere down wind,” said Jonathan, eyes focused on his computer.

“With the winds this time of the year being from the south, this area would be best but it is no good for setting up,” said Reece pointing at the region of Southwest Washington, then along the Potomac River up to the Kennedy Center. Then his finger pointed at a residential complex just above the Kennedy Center. “Watergate.”

“What?” asked Chester.

“Watergate. I’d use it just for what it means to us, with Nixon’s break in,” replied Reese.

“That’s a big leap.”

“But if our guy has the cover of a maintenance man, or some mechanical contractor, he could easily get on the roof, even with a box, and set up to release something into the air.”

“Where would you look?” asked Wesley, moving up next to Reece.

“Around the mechanical equipment, like these, with fans blowing hot air upward. It’d be perfect.”

‘And if I find this box, what do I do with it?” asked Wesley, turning back to Jonathan and Robert.

“Get it to the CDC, so we know what we’re dealing with.”

“I’m going to look.”

“Wire up before you go,” said Jonathan.

Wesley got ready, rushed outside, and was gone.

“We need to let DC know Wesley will be there and to keep looking just in case. And we need to find the others.”

“Do you still think Miami is one of the targets?” asked Chester.

“I’m not sure,” Robert replied. “It could be Orlando.”

“Fuck!” exclaimed Jonathan, pushing back from his computer. “There’s too many avenues to explore. We’ll never find them.”

“Jonathan,” said Reece in a low calm voice, and everyone saw him take a breath and roll back up to his computer and start typing.

“Reece, bring up Charlotte,” asked Robert, pushing back. At the large monitor, he stood by Reece, the two of them looking at an aerial image of the city. “Fuck, it could be anywhere. Where would you put it?”

“Depends. If I wanted the most infection rates, I’d do one of these areas outside this loop around downtown, but if it is a statement, one aimed at the banks, then downtown somewhere near this building,” Reece replied pointing at one of the buildings in the middle of downtown.

“Why that one?”

“It’s the tallest building, one of the largest banks, and it would be symbolic.”

“If it’s the target, where do you place it?”

“Winds come from the southwest, so anywhere in this area. Like these two parking decks. See the cars on top. All they would have to do it park on top and release it and the wind will take it in this direction.”

“Those two are a little too far to the west.”

“I think you’re right. But this deck, down here.”

“Yes, and it’ll cover the area around this bank too.”

“We should have Wesley check it out.”

At that moment, Robert’s phone buzzed. He pulled it up and accepted the call. “Wesley, please tell me you found it.”

“I’m securing the box and heading to the CDC. Call the FBI or whoever you need to and have them meet me there.”

“Will do. What does it look like?”

“Not much to see. A metal box with toggle switches and a dial, and some containers on the side tubed into it.”

“Was it where we thought?”

“No. It was at the mall on the river, across the street.”

“How did you find it?”

“I looked at all the roofs in the area and found the box down by some mechanical units. Gotta go; I got the box resealed.”

Fifty minutes later, Wesley landed on the balcony. He raced in and listened to Reece and Robert tell him where they guessed the next one would be.

“If it is on top of a parking deck, then they have changed vehicles,” said Wesley.

“Yep. You’ll have to look for a rental car.”

“Great.”

“I can help you find it,” said Liam and everyone turned to see him come into the room. “I can help.”

“How?” asked Robert.

“Robert,” Chester cut in, “let him go.”

Robert nodded in agreement and looked over at Wesley, “you’ve got a passenger this time.”

Charlotte, North Carolina

Wesley hovered over the city of Charlotte, Liam on his back. They were scanning the top of the buildings and parking decks. The city was lit up, lights shining out and up, a beacon of man’s ingenuity and conceited notion of being master of his domain.

“Move over the city,” Liam instructed Wesley.

“How?”

“Follow every other road.”

They moved over College up to the north side, cut over to Church and proceeded back. Wesley flew slowly, until he came to the south side of downtown. He was about to turn when Liam yelled stop.

“What is it?” asked Wesley.

“There,” pointing at a construction site, and on the next block, a fenced in area with trucks, vans and cargo containers staged or parked for the crews. “It’s down there.”

“How do you know?”

“I can see it. The white van parked next to those two containers. The one in back.”

Wesley descended until hovering directly over the van. The top had been drilled full of holes.

“I think you’re right.”

“Do we need to retrieve this one, or can we dispose of it?”

“CDC has what they need; why?”

“Land over there.”

Wesley set down in the open path left down the small lot for access, and Liam climbed off his back. Liam walked around him and up to the van. He turned back to Wesley.

“Wait on me. I’ll be back in a minute.”

The space around Liam seemed to become charged. Wesley felt it. Even the hairs on his arms stood up. Then the space around the van distorted and suddenly seemed to be a spherical distortion. He heard the release of a charge, then the van was gone, along with a circle pan of earth that had been underneath it.

“Fuck, how does he do that?”

Within seconds Liam was hovering in the center of the space where the van had sat, naked, no clothing returning with him.

“You really need to figure out that clothing optional thing,” Wesley joked as Liam floated toward him, and stepped down.

“I know. I didn’t think to take them off beforehand.”

“Where’s the van?”

“Mariana Trench.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. I figured the depth and cold temperatures would take care of it.”

“I’ll say.”

“Hey, you, what are you doing?” a security guard calls out, rushing toward them.

“Time to go,” says Liam as he climbs on Wesley’s back and in the blink of an eye, they are gone.

The Mountain

It was just before daylight, and Wesley stirred awake to find Quinton next to him. They had come to bed around two, both exhausted from their long hours. They had fallen asleep immediately upon hitting their pillows. They laid in dreamless sleep for a few hours, until something caused Wesley to stir before their alarm went off.

“What is it?” Quinton asked as he rolled to his back and stretched.

“I don’t know. I just can’t sleep any longer.”

“We’ll find the other two.”

“I hope so, but New York City? It seems impossible.”

“Maybe Liam can find it?”

“Maybe, but he said he was only able to focus on a block at a time.”

“How did he see it?”

“I don’t know. He said he could see the entirety of the van. Exterior, interior and within. He said the gas tank was nearly empty and the box was open in the back, the timer within it counting down.”

“Crazy.”

“We need to get up.”

“Not yet,” Quinton replied, sliding up next to Wesley. “I’m so wound up.”

Soon, they were naked, Wesley on top of Quinton. They were in a slow fuck, with hands caressing the other. Even with their desperation, there remained an intimacy in their copulation. Wesley’s undulations, the movement of his hips, and the exploration with lips and hands. Quinton moaned, then pleaded with him to fuck harder, and the squeaking bed spoke of the increased pace.

Wesley rose, twisted Quinton around, folding him up in his arms as he bore back into his depths. Quinton shuddered in his embrace, grunting with every push inward. He had not realized how much he needed Quinton until now, in this moment. He clung to the familiar body, absorbed its heat, felt the firmness of it, and felt his arousal grow with each new pleading.

Then he came, shuddering with every ejaculation. He jammed his hips against Quinton until spent. Then he rolled over next to him on his stomach and waited. He felt the bed rock, Quinton’s movements, then the legs pushing his own together. He felt the cock rake up and down his ass, then penetrate him, slowly, so slow he felt each inch move through his tightness. Then there was the weight of him, pressing down on his back. An arm around his neck and he was held tight, as lips touched his neck, the side of his face, and along one shoulder.

“Fuck…do it…fuck me,” Wesley whispered breathlessly.

Down the hall, in Eli’s room, Brandon was face down on their bed, Eli over him, pumping into his depths. The tension was too much for them too. They were wound up, and now they were releasing all the tension and their anxiety. Eli moved down on Brandon’s back, bear hugged him around the neck, holding tight, as he worked his hips, thrusting inward, all the way.

Their fuck was physical, with an urgency that made muscles burn with their exertions. The bed protested beneath them, banged against the wall, as Eli hammered Brandon’s depths. Bodies grew hot, wet, with skin sliding slickly over skin.

Eli rose, slipped free of the tight hole and stood on knees between Brandon’s legs.

“Roll over,” he exclaimed.

Brandon rolled over, hard cock smacking wetly against his abdomen, and raised his legs. Eli held them to his chest and scooted forward, sinking his cock back into him all the way. He clung to the legs and fucked with a fast pace, as he watched Brandon stroke his own cock. Sweat trickled down his face, and down his chest. He saw Brandon’s body glistening in the light of the room, and he moved over him to feel it against his own. He folded Brandon in half, thighs pressed against chest and hammered cock into his depths.

Within seconds Eli felt cum splatter his chest and stomach, as Brandon cried out. He thrust into Brandon’s depths as he felt him shudder with release, then came, pumping himself empty inside of him.

In the computer room, Jonathan pushed back, stretched his arms, then rubbed his eyes. Robert was next to him and behind them, asleep in chairs, were Reece and Preston. Brody came in with coffee, the pot and cups on a tray.

“Thank you,” Jonathan exclaimed, taking a cup and the pot, pouring the cup full.

“Are you going to take a break?” Brody asked.

“No.”

“No,” added Robert as he took the pot, pouring himself a full cup.

“Where are we at?”

“Nowhere useful,” Robert replied.

“We don’t even know where the one in Florida is located. I think Miami, but...”

“I think Orlando,” Robert interjected.

“Hey, pour me a cup, will you?” said Preston, and Brody turned to see him stretch then stand.

Chester came into the room, and everyone sees he is still dressed the same, knowing he only grabbed a little sleep and came back.

“Any updates?”

“Not really,” Robert replies.

“I’m going to check on the boy,” said Chester as he heads out.

They had kept Bobby out of the computer room, not wanting to scare him more than he was already. Chester eased through the house, up the stair and down to the room between Liam and Wesley, the one Bobby had been set up in. He eased the door open, expecting him to be asleep, but he found the boy sitting at the window staring out. He eased into the room and closed the door, which caused Bobby to turn around.

“Good morning,” said Bobby, but his tone spoke of a conviction it was anything but good, and Chester frowned.

“Bobby, I’m sorry we have not been able to really get to know you, but…”

“I know.”

“Know what?”

“Everything. The virus someone is trying to release, the one in DC and Charlotte having been found and two more are out there somewhere and you can’t find them.”

“Who told you?”

“Eli.”

Chester realized Eli had been with the boy more often than he knew, and he was going to say Eli should not have told him, but he saw the teenage boy, fourteen years old, looking at him stoically, and he considered the possibility Eli had been right to tell him.

“Is there something I can do?” Bobby asked.

“No, not at the moment. Wesley and Liam seem to be our best hope. I’m not sure Eli could do anything.”

“Liam can move space?”

“Something like that. I’m not sure what you call it.”

“Will my…power change too?”

“We don’t know. Wesley got faster, and this shield developed around him, so that he can move through the air at such great speed, its unimaginable. Eli can change something’s state so fast, and do it over such a large area…”

“Like the pond in Alaska?”

“Yes. But his ability to return it to its original state. That is something else altogether different. But its Liam that just amazes me. This…I don’t know how to describe it.”

“Eli says he unfolds another dimension, then folds it back up.”

“Sounds like a good way to explain it,” Chester replies, smiling at Bobby’s understanding, thinking the boy will one day be as good as the others.

“Chester?”

“Yes, Bobby.”

“Can I go down and sit with everyone? I don’t like sitting up here and I promise not to interfere.”

Chester nodded his head. “Come on, let’s go prepare everyone some breakfast, then we can take it to them.”

Bobby smiled, stood, and followed Chester down to the kitchen.

Chester, followed by Bobby, entered the computer room to find everyone there. Robert looked around and frowned when he saw Bobby behind Chester, who shook his head ever so slightly, letting Robert know not to say anything. Trays of biscuits, eggs, bacon, country ham, slices of cheese and hot peppers were set out, and everyone loaded up their biscuits the way they preferred. Bobby watched each one, noting what they liked, surprised to see Preston, Brody and Wesley, put the hot peppers on their biscuits. Quinton sat next to Bobby and saw how he watched them.

“Living in Mexico,” said Quinton.

“What?” asked Bobby.

“Those three developed a taste for hot peppers when living in Mexico. I could never handle it on some foods, but those three; they put them on everything.”

“You lived in Mexico?”

“Oh, yeah. Preston and Brody were down there first.”

“Why did they go to Mexico?”

“Well…their families had a problem with them being gay and they hid down there.”

“Oh. Is that why you and Wesley went too?”

“We went because of Wesley being seen flying around,” Quinton replied, smiling at the memory of it.

“So…everyone with the power is gay?” asked Bobby, and Quinton caught the insinuation, but they had discussed not pushing Bobby on the subject.

“We’re not sure. There was a girl before us, but she died so we don’t know,” Quinton replied, and he saw some of the others looking over, waiting, curious as to what Bobby would reveal. “And we don’t know about you. We’ve not asked for it is up to you to tell us, or not.”

Bobby nodded his head, then looked around the room causing the others to turn away, then he looked at Quinton, leaning closer to him. “I think about it, but…”

“Never dared act on it?”

Bobby nodded, and Quinton thought of Bobby’s story, the abusive home and what had happened with the stepfather. It was no environment for a boy who thought of himself as different.

“Hey, when this shitstorm is over, why don’t we all plan on going into town for pizza,” said Quinton, changing the subject.

“I’d like that,” Bobby replied.

Robert’s cellphone rang, and he hit accept before it could ring a second time. He hit speaker.

“John, you got something.”

“Yes. We got lucky. A security camera at a gas station in Deltona, Florida captured our suspect getting gas.”

“Deltona? That means he is heading to Orlando.”

“We think so. We’ve contacted everyone; police, private security companies, transportation…everyone we can think of, to search for that Tahoe.”

“Damn, they had to pick vehicles that are so popular.”

“It was a smart move.”

“And New York?”

“Nothing.”

Robert grimaced, rolling back from the desk, looking over at Preston, then Chester, shaking his head.

“It’s not much to go on, I know, but we’ve got everyone on it, except HLS.”

“Why aren’t they helping?” Jonathan blurted out.

“They say they have their hands full with another operation.”

“It’s bullshit,” Reece utters from the back of the room.

“Agreed, but I’m kind of glad they are not involved,” replied John.

“Why?” Robert asked, frowning, “what do you know.”

“Not sure, but it seems they are up to something, and in the current climate, I don’t like it. I’ll keep you posted, but I need to go,” said John, then cutting the call.

Robert swivels around to face Chester. “You thinking what I am?”

“Yes, but I hope not.”

“Let’s be prepared for a curve ball.”

It was nearing eleven o’clock, and there had been no progress. The black Tahoe seemed to have disappeared in the Orlando area and there were no leads in New York. Wesley paced the room, while Jonathan worked furiously on his computer and Robert made phone calls. Chester came back into the room and sat next to Quinton. Robert set his phone down and spun around to face Jonathan.

“What do you think? Should we send Wesley and Liam down to Orlando?”

“It’s the best lead, but I don’t know.”

The minutes continued to tick by, at times agonizingly slow, then it seemed five or ten minutes just disappeared.

Robert’s cell phone rang, and he hit accept. “John!”

“We got a break.”

“What have you got?”

“New York: someone found a wood box with a device in it sitting in a warehouse.”

“Where?”

“Back in Brooklyn, near the Navy Yard.”

“Wesley and Liam will be…”

“John wait, there’s more. We found the Tahoe in Orlando.”

Robert spun around and saw it was now 11:08. The viruses were to be released at noon. He looked over at Wesley.

“We’ll send the location of each to you. Take Liam and go; New York first.”

“Wesley,” John called out from the cellphone, “if you can bring in the guy in Orlando, I want him.”

“Got it,” Wesley replied, and he turned to Liam who was already at the door, “let’s go.”

“John,” Liam spoke up for the first time.

“Yes, Liam.”

“Make sure the warehouse is empty.”

“It has been evacuated already except for a couple of our guys.”

“Get them away from the building, back 300 feet or more.”

“Will do.”

Wesley and Liam went to the balcony and were gone.

They flew to New York, the terrain a blur, until they found themselves hovering over Brooklyn. Liam pointed over Wesley’s shoulder, and they descended toward a group of warehouses. As they drew near, they saw armed men pulling back, creating a perimeter a few hundred feet away from the building.

“Set me on the roof,” said Liam.

“Okay,” Wesley replied, moving down to the roof, where he let Liam climb off his back. Liam stripped, handing his clothes to Wesley, who smirked at him. Liam stepped back and watched Wesley fly, straight up, until he was a thousand feet above.

Wesley watched Liam stand on the roof until he saw the space around the warehouse change, the whole building, and parts of each one on either side of it. A spherical shape in the air took form, the largest Liam had done so far. Then it appeared to fold out of existence.

A perfectly round, smooth sided depression remained, and water was pouring out of severed pipe. The air felt charged, a crackle of release and the spherical form returned, then Liam was hovering in empty space. Wesley flew down to the edge of the depression and Liam floated over to him.

“Get dressed. We need to go,” said Wesley as soon as Liam stepped out of the spherical space. The air lost its charge, settled into a calm state, and they could hear the water gushing from pipes and the smell of gas filling the air.

Washington, DC

A large office in the Department of Justice, the Attorney General’s, and Mark Barber sat at his desk. He was calm, always sure of himself, and his righteous goal. The country needed saving, needed to return to its Christian roots and he was prepared to tear it apart, if need, to make it happen. He knew the president claimed to be one of them, but he knew better. The president was just a pawn, someone creating the diversions needed for them to act. Project Blitz had some setbacks, but so far it was succeeding beyond their wildest dreams.

He swiveled around to look out the window, wondering how the mission was going, and if the diversion was working. He had been surprised at how quickly the boxes had been discovered in DC and Charlotte, but he didn’t worry about it. Those two were always the ones to be first, the ones to run a drill for them. It was the last two and their timing that was so critical to the operation.

The phone on his desk rang, and he saw it was the secure line. He smiled, knowing it had to be good news from Brad Grey at Homeland. It had been Brad who did the logistics of the mission. He hated him, considered him a thug, but a useful one. He picked up the phone.

“Brad, how’s the mission going?”

“We’ve got a problem.”

“What do you mean?”

Turn on the television.”

“Which channel?”

“Any of them.”

Mark turned on the television that hung from the ceiling in the corner of his office. His favorite news channel came on, with an aerial view of a round depression in the ground, with a couple of police cars pulling up to its edge and a firetruck heading toward it.

“What is this?”

“It was the warehouse in New York.”

“What?”

“I don’t know how, but the whole building was taken, and from what I can gather, it only took a few seconds.”

“Impossible.”

“Flying and changing the state of matter was impossible not that long ago.”

“None of those boys could do this.”

“Those bastards are hiding their true abilities from us. If I were you, I’d get out of there.”

“That’s ridiculous. I’m not going…”

“Suit yourself, but I’m telling you, we don’t know what we’re dealing with.”

“What about the mission?”

“It’s being executed right now.”

The Mountain

Robert stayed in constant contact with Wesley, swiveling around to the others, “New York is completed.”

“What did they do?” asked Reece.

“Oh shit,” Jonathan exclaimed, transferring his computer to the large monitor. It was a news helicopter report from New York flying over the depression. “He took the whole building out.”

“It’s in space, hurtling toward the sun,” Wesley’s voice came over the speaker. “We’re coming into Orlando now.”

Suddenly the main power to the house cut off. The computer room kept operating, but nonessential power was out.

“Okay, boys, let’s get to the tunnel,” Robert exclaimed.

“What is it,” Brody asked.

“We’ve got company.”

Jonathan’s computer began to beep.

“We’ve got intruders coming in from…the valley and each side,” said Jonathan as he looked at his monitor.

“Fuck, go, go,” Robert exclaimed.

“Brandon is asleep in our room; I’ve got to go get him,” said Eli, jumping up.

“Hurry,” Reece said, holding the door open.

“Jonathan, get your laptop and kill these computers,” said Robert as he guided Chester and the boys toward the door.

“I’m on it.”

They heard Eli calling Brandon’s name from up the stair as they rushed to the kitchen. Preston was at the secret door, holding it open. Robert and Jonathan rushed in first, determined to get to the safe room in the mountain, and back online. Quinton and William entered next when they heard the sound of a helicopter overhead, then breaking glass.

“GO!” Reece shouted, and he turned to go back for Eli and Brandon.

Before anyone could stop him, Bobby pulled out of Chester’s hand, and raced past Reece. He ignored the calls to stop, running to the stair and to the upper floor corridor. There were men in combat gear standing outside Eli and Liam’s room. They saw Bobby approach and appeared to be surprised it was a young teenager heading toward them, instead of someone armed. But the first one sensed danger and pulled up his gun to take him out.

It happened so fast, the first man never fired a shot, all three collapsing, dead from old age.

Reece rushed into the corridor, gun drawn, only to see the three men down, and Bobby at Eli’s door pushing it open and rushing in. A shot was fired, the gypsum wall exploded opposite the open door, and Reece rushed ahead, fearful of the worst. He heard men yelling to each other and the sound of the helicopter hovering above. As he rushed to the door, ready to shoot, only to see two more men down, and Bobby staring at the one guiding a gurney out the window with Liam strapped to it.

“No,” Bobby yelled, and the man collapsed, falling back on the floor and Reece saw the desiccated face, shriveled and dried up. But it was too late to stop the gurney from being pulled clear of the window frame and it rose out of sight. Bobby and Reece raced to the window.

“We have to stop them!” exclaimed Bobby.

“I can’t shoot for I might hit Eli.”

Bobby looked up, stared at the helicopter. It wasn’t living tissue, but it could age too, in its own way. He thought of the process, of metals growing fatigued, steel rusting away and fabric rotting. The helicopter began to smoke as it tried to pull up the gurney. It gained a little more altitude, then began to descend. It dropped down, until the gurney was on the ground, dragging it about twenty feet before its arc was downward, where it crashed into the ground. The men inside came out, and one by one, they fell to the ground, dead of old age.

“Go…get someone and check on Eli. I’ll check on Brandon,” Reece exclaimed as he pushed Bobby toward the door, then stooped to Brandon lying on the floor.

There was a dart in the shoulder and Reece found Brandon was merely knocked out. He lifted him up and headed toward the door. He heard gun fire outside, then silence, as he raced down the corridor and down the stair.

Robert, Jonathan, and Quinton were rushing toward the rear door, each armed with a M249. Reece lay Brody at the doorway to the kitchen and followed them out.

“Bobby is outside.”

“What? Why did you let him go out? He could get…”

“I think he’ll be fine. He’s the one who took care of everything upstairs.”

They came outside and saw Bobby releasing the straps holding Eli. Along the perimeter of the yard, lay dozens of men, none moving.

“What the fuck,” said Robert as they rushed to Bobby and Eli. As they came around them, stooping next to Bobby, they saw Eli was just knocked out, a dart in his arm. Bobby was frantic, hands shaking, as he tried to get Eli out of the gurney.

“He’ll be okay. Relax, relax,” Robert whispered to Bobby, pulling him back to let Reece lift Eli out of the gurney.

They stood, Eli in Reece’s arms, and looked around the property, the helicopter lying on its side against the edge of the trees, and men scattered around the yard.

“Let’s go,” barked Robert and everyone rushed inside, not stopping until they were secure in the mountain.

Orlando, Florida

“It’s what?” asked Wesley, as they flew over I-4, the interstate that cut through Orlando.

“It’s a diversion. They were after Eli,” Robert radioed.

“Eli?”

“Yes. Get that Tahoe and get back, and Wesley?”

“Yes?”

“Come to Chester’s house; we’re in the safe room.”

“Okay.”

“Liam?” asked Wesley.

“I heard. Let’s get this bastard and get back.”

“John said he was going south, just above downtown when they spotted him last.”

“There, that black Tahoe,” Liam pointed at one of many black SUV’s on the interstate.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. The box is in the back.”

Wesley slowed, wondering if the Tahoe would exit the busy interstate and make their job easier. He glanced at his watch. 11:54.

The Tahoe exited, going down a ramp that would let him get into downtown.

Jack had taken the assignment, knowing the collateral damage was worth it, if the mission was successful. They would use the boy to promote the cause, and he hoped within a year all those undesirable elements that polluted their society would be purged. It was a holy assignment; one he was proud to be a part. He pulled off the interstate, looking over toward downtown. He smiled, for in a few minutes he would release the gas into the city, and it would be one more thing to rally the faithful.

He slowed, preparing to stop when a young man landed in front of him. He slammed on the brakes, shocked to see someone fall from the sky.

“What the fuck?”

He looked in his rearview mirror, knowing going forward would not be good. Behind him stood another young guy. He saw him just standing in the middle of the road. A sedan came up behind him, blowing its horn, but the guy didn’t move. Then he felt it, a charge in the air. It seemed to change, become heavier in some manner, then everything around him blurred. He felt short of breath, and sensed movement, a shift in space. The air around him settled, the blurring ceased, and he was inside an underground space. It was huge, and standing around him were armed men, guns drawn.

The Mountain

Wesley and Liam set down on the terrace by Chester’s house and before they could get to the door, Chester swung it open and waited on them to enter.

“Hey boys, good job.”

“Thanks, Chester. Everyone in the safe room?”

“Yes, come on.”

“What about Eli?”

“He’s still asleep. They dosed him pretty good, but he’ll be fine.”

They passed through the kitchen, into the pantry where the secret door stood open. A minute later, they walked into the transfer area, and climbed aboard a cart. Chester sat in the passenger seat with Wesley behind the wheel and Liam behind them, and they silently made their way deep into the mountain to the safe room.

As they walked toward the glass rooms, seeing the others standing around laughing and talking, finally able to relax, Wesley fell in beside Chester.

“Hey, I was wondering. We’re not going to have to move again, are we?”

“No, I don’t think so. John and I have been talking, about this rogue element within some of the departments, and we think this will give him the leverage he needs to purge it out.”

“You think he can get all of them?”

“Probably not, but if he gets the head, the body could soon die if another head can’t step up.”

“Does he know who’s behind it?”

“Yes, but the solid proof is a bit tricky.”

“So, they could still escape punishment?”

“Maybe.”

“That is not acceptable.”

Chester smiled, glancing over at Wesley, seeing the determination he had come to expect in all the boys.

“How did you guys stop them? Back at the house,” asked Wesley as they neared the door.

“It was Bobby.”

“Bobby?”

“He seems to have a bit more power than we first thought.”

Wesley laughed, out loud, then looked at Chester, “so, he’s like the rest of us?”

Chester smiled, in his knowing way.

They dined on the terrace, Preston and Brody doing all the cooking, coming out with meats and vegetables sizzling in cast iron skillets. Steamed taco shells, spicy meats and bowls of rice. Jonathan followed with another cooler of beer, sitting it on the small table nearby. It was the first time they had been able to have a decent meal since everything began. Chester sat at the head of the table, with Elizabeth to his right, Robert and Helen to his left. John sat next to Helen, with the others seating around in the remaining seats. At the other end of the table, sat Bobby. He smiled, talked more than he had in a long time, telling Liam about saving Eli by taking down the helicopter, avoiding any mention of taking out all the men too.

As the night cooled, the stars growing more brilliant overhead, as someone dimmed the rope lights even further, they settled into small, quiet conversations. It was nearly midnight, when John leaned forward, getting Robert and Chester’s attention.

“I should tell you now, I don’t think the guy will talk. We may not have anything we can act on.”

“Who are the main ones behind this?” Wesley asked, and John looked at him, frowning. He knew it wasn’t wise to tell the boys, but Chester’s voice broke the short silence.

“Tell them.”

John grimaced, then looked around the table at each boy. “Mark Barber at DOJ and Brad Grey at Homeland.”

“Seriously?” exclaimed Quinton.

John nodded his head.

Washington, DC

Two Days Later

Mark Barber left the restaurant, his favorite in the city and descended the steps to his waiting Suburban, his security holding the door open for him. He smiled as he climbed in, unwilling to portray the aggravation and frustration he felt. It had been two days and nothing. There were wild stories he knew not to take lightly. The Tahoe in Orlando disappearing right off of an exit ramp. The Warehouse in New York that didn’t explode as it was reported, but disappeared, along with a big junk of ground. Then there was the mission itself. Someone had it tightly wrapped up, and not even he had been able to root out anything. Brad was furious, making threats to the other intelligent agencies, but they all claimed not to know anything, and John Felt was nowhere to be found. And he knew that bastard knew something.

Seat belted in, the Suburban eased from the curb and headed back to his office. They were in traffic, approaching an intersection, when the sound of gun fire shattered the calm. People began to run, the cars around them trying to find a path of escape.

“Get me out of this!” yelled Mark at the driver, who pushed a small hatchback out of the way and sped over the sidewalk to the side street. They sped down the narrow road, raced through the next intersection and down to the next, where the driver slid around it, turning left. The driver was trying to get clear of anyone and everyone. He drove along a seldom used road, then slowed to turn when a guy landed in the road in front of them.

“Run him over,” Mark yelled, and the driver punched the gas, but the Suburban stopped anyway. The air became charged, the hair standing up on their arms and necks. Then everything blurred around them. When the blur cleared, they were hovering in the sky. Liam held the sphere just out of our realm, right at the edge of our three-dimensional space. Mark looked out at the cloudy skies, realizing the clouds were below them. He leaned close to the side window and looked down and saw only the blue of an ocean.

Mark knew it was Wesley, the boy who could fly that was suddenly hovering nearby, video camera in hand.

“Mr. Barber, I need you to tell us what your involvement in everything has been.”

Mark lowered the window and leaned out enough to face him.

“Do you know who I am? You need to put me down.”

“I know who you are. You’re the traitor Mark Barber, and you’re going to tell us what you know.”

“I’m not telling you anything!” he yelled back

“Okay.”

Wesley hovered away.

“Sir, maybe you should…”

“Shut it,” Mark cut off the driver, considering him weak. They wouldn’t dare hurt him. He was the Attorney General.

The spherical shape around them cleared, and for a fraction of a second, the Suburban hovered in the air, and a breeze could suddenly be felt. Then it began to fall. It would fall nearly 10,000 feet, accelerating faster and faster until it was traveling nearly 500 mph. The impact on the ocean’s surface would destroy it. The wreckage would sink, into the ocean’s depths.

Brad Grey came back into this office, cellphone to his ear, trying once again to get Barber to pick up.

“Fucking, arrogant prick,” Brad mumbled as he sat down, swiveling around to look out the window. Feet appeared, then legs, as a man floated down to face him. It was that Wesley prick, and he grabbed up his phone. “Security, we’ve got an intruder.”

“Where?”

“He’s…” Brad began to reply, stammering to a stop, realizing what he was going to say would sound crazy. Not everyone was in the know on the boys, especially the guys in the building’s security. As he hung up the phone, his eyes locked on Wesley, he saw him extend his middle finger and laugh. Then Wesley flew up close, within a couple of feet of the glass. Brad eased his left hand out to his desk and slowly slid the second drawer open. He reached for his gun.

“Hey Brad, have you been able to get Mark on the phone?” asked Wesley, smiling. “No?”

Brad jerked the gun from the drawer and aimed it at the window, firing it three times. Glass shattered and fell out, but he knew, by the time he pulled the trigger Wesley had disappeared.

“Fuck,” Brad exclaimed, as his phone rang. He knew it was security. He jumped up, grabbed his satchel, and headed down. The satchel was his ‘get out of jail free’ card, for it had everything in it. If Mark Barber tried to hang him out to dry, he would take them both down. He rushed out, to the elevator that went straight to the secured parking.

It was a little after two and the parking garage was empty, no one coming or going, as he raced out. He ran up to his Cadillac, a big sedan with the big twin-turbo V-8. He wasted no time in getting in and starting it up. He raced up toward the surface and exit, and didn’t stop at the crossing guard, blowing through it. He slid out into the street, and accelerated away, as he tried to formulate a plan. He took streets not too crowded with traffic that he could maneuver through. He accelerated, scraping against a delivery van, then sideswiping an SUV.

He would go to Andrews AFB and get on a plane. They wouldn’t stop him for he had the highest clearance. All he had to do was get on a plane and they would not know where he would be hiding. He turned, tires howling in protest, and accelerated. Suddenly space around the car changed. He felt a charge in the air. His sense of motion stopped, and everything around him blurred.

“What the fuck,” Brad exclaimed as the distortion of space went dark, then dimly lit, slowly clearing. He looked at his surroundings, as things came into focus. Suddenly, he realized he was in an underground space. It was massive, larger than he had ever seen before. He looked to his side and saw the black Tahoe from the Orlando mission sitting next to him, and he dropped his head.

Vega, Texas

Jessie mopped the men’s room, the third time that day, cussing the truckers who kept it messed up. He had been hitching rides from Alabama to Arkansas to Oklahoma, until he found himself put out at this truck stop on the south side of town, what there was of it. There had been a help wanted sign in the window, and within twenty minutes he was scrubbing bathrooms and stocking shelves. That had been nearly two months ago, and now he was helping in the shop, and still working in the store, and when someone called out sick, working in the kitchen for the diner. He worked long hours, and when he was off, he camped out in the stock room on the cot he called home, or wandered around the arid landscape, still amazed at how it was different from Alabama, and that small town on the bay.

He was saving up for a truck or car, something that would give him mobility, and with it, the ability to find a place to live back in the small town. Until then, he made do with the cot. He knew Travis liked him there, always ready to work when someone didn’t show up or called in sick.

Finished in the bathrooms, Jessie moved through the store with the broom in hand, heading outside. The radio was playing over the speakers and a couple was at the counter asking Travis for directions.

“…we interrupt for this news bulletin. The FBI has released a memo stating the Attorney General Mark Barber and Brad Grey of Homeland Security have not been found and the assumption is they have left the country. There are rumors the president…”

Jessie paid no attention, for whatever was happening out there in the world, could not possibly be of concern to him. He went out the doors and even under the shade of the canopy immediately felt the heat.

Starting at the far end, he swept the front walk, trying hard not to think of his leaving home, and leaving his brother behind. He had nightmares of Bobby being abused by Cecil, and often considered calling home to find out how Bobby was doing. But he never dared, worried Cecil would answer, and he would say something that would set him off, taking out his anger on Bobby. So, he kept quiet, told vague stories about why he was alone, and ended up in Vega. He worked as many hours as Travis, the owner, would give him. Anything to not lay in that cot thinking.

It was just after noon, the day already hot with the horizon blurred with the rising heat. Jessie wiped the sweat from his face and turned to sweep the sidewalk down the side of the building. Then he heard a plane. It was low, the sound of propellers a roar in the open sky and flat terrain. A tilt-rotor plane flew overhead, so close the ground seemed to vibrate. It circled out over the land across the street and came back toward the truck stop, its engines tilting upward until it was able to hover. It eased back over the road and came down in the dirt parking lot, kicking up dust and debris, plastic bags and paper cups blowing across the ground. The engines slowed, until the rotors stopped, and the dust began to settle. By this time, everyone in the truck stop were standing out front, wondering why a military aircraft had landed. They moved in unison, like a curious herd, taking a few steps, then a few more, until they were out as far as the pumps. Jessie was on the edge of the group, the far end, broom still in hand.

The door swung up, the bottom dropped down for the step and a broad chested man came to the door, dressed casually in khakis and polo. He surveyed the crowd, eyes concealed by his sunglasses, then he stepped down and away from the craft standing between the door and the crowd. Another man came to the door, again dressed as a civilian, early thirties and neatly dressed. He stepped down and looked back, waiting. An older man, in his eighties, came to the door. With a wide brim hat and a light linen shirt and pants, he stepped down easily to the ground and walked out a few feet, looking at the crowd. He looked from his left to his right and stopped, and Jessie sensed the old man was looking at him. He saw him smile and give a slight nod of the head. Then one more person came to the door. A teenager, with a lanky body, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans. Jessie looked at the kid descending the steps, and found his heart began to race in his chest. He began to walk toward him, dropping the broom. The boy moved to the front of the group and looked his way, and he knew it was Bobby. He stumbled, then ran, closing the distance between them until he was bearhugging him.

“You found me,” Jessie cried, shaking within Bobby’s embrace. He held on tight, rocking them back and forth, unable to believe what he felt against his chest.

“Jessie,” whispered Bobby, pushing him to stand back a step, “are you okay?”

“Yes,” Jessie uttered, as tears streamed down his face. “How?”

Chester and Preston came along side them, followed by Reece. “Shall we go inside where it’s cool and we can talk?” said Chester.

“Who are these people?” Jessie asked as they approached the building, all the others parting to allow them passage.

“We’ll explain inside.”

Travis came to the door, holding it open for them, looking at Jessie with a questioning expression. Jessie shrugged his shoulders and shook his head, as he followed the others inside.

For the next thirty minutes they talked about what happened after Jessie left, skirting for the time being the aspects the others surrounding them did not need to hear. There was a story of Chester running a home for some boys, each with their own particular needs, and each having their own responsibilities.

Bobby struggled with the story, trying to make it believable about Cecil dying and their mother initially arrested. Since then, she had been put in a rehab facility in North Carolina. He laid out this new life, and how he came to take Jessie back.

It was Chester who saw the guilt and loneliness Bobby struggled to release, and when Jonathan had come to him three days ago with the news he had found Jessie, through some employment records, a plan was made, and late last night they left DC to put it in place. Jessie would be brought back to the mountain, despite Robert’s objections, and allowed to stay with Bobby, the room changed to accommodate two boys.

“So, you see, I want you to come back with me,” said Bobby.

“Seriously, you have this whole new life and…Bobby, what is going on?”

“Not now, okay. I just need you to trust me.”

“I do, Bobby. Always. But this is crazy.”

“I know. But it is real, and an opportunity to live for once. You don’t want to do this the rest of your life, do you?”

Jessie looked up at Travis standing to one side, saw him smile and nod his head. “No, I guess not.”

“Well, young man, we need you to get packed up. We have a plane to catch,” said Chester, smiling with his usual nonchalant way.

Bobby followed Jessie to the stockroom where the cot sat in a back corner, duffel bag on the floor underneath it. Bobby watched Jessie wad up clothing that had been laying on the cot and stuff it in the bag. He watched him gather up some papers, a bank statement for a checking account, and a brochure on obtaining a driver’s license. Taped to the wall he saw a familiar photograph, one of the two of them at one of Jessie’s friends place during a party. They were smiling into the camera and he reached out and pulled it loose.

“I remember this party,” said Bobby running a finger over the face of it.

“It’s the last photo taken of us.”

Bobby held it out and watched Jessie slip it into a side compartment, then zip up the bag. They headed out, following the others to the craft sitting in the drive with a crowd circling it.

“How long will it take to get to DC in that thing?” asked Jessie.

“Oh, we’re not flying all the way back in that?”

“We’re not?”

“No.”

The propellers began to turn, as the engines throttled up. They turned faster and faster, kicking up dust, pushing the crowd in front of the truck stop back until they were against the building. The craft lifted off, rotated ninety degrees, and flew out over the empty lot next door. It gained altitude and speed, and the rotors tilted forward until it was flying as a plane again. It turned south and continued to climb until it was at 20,000 feet.

About ninety minutes later, they were on the ground in El Paso. Jessie and Bobby were the first to get off the plane, and Jessie followed his brother, asking more questions than he could answer. Jessie wasn’t paying attention until they were halfway across the tarmac, coming up on a dark bronze jet.

“You’re fucking with me?” asked Jessie.

“No, Jessie, come on, let’s get on board,” replied Bobby leading his older brother to the jet. As they approached, the door swung down for the steps and a young man stood it the doorway.

“Hey guys, you made it back. You must be Jessie. I’m Eli.”

“Eli?” Jessie repeated, as he followed Bobby up the steps.

Everyone got on board and seated, Jessie and Bobby next to each other. The jet taxied to the runway, spun up the jet engines and thundered down it, until it was airborne. It accelerated while climbing, heading east, back to DC and the mountain.

“Okay Bobby, spill,” said Jessie after they leveled off at a cruising altitude.

Bobby looked around at Eli, motioning with his head for him to move closer.

“After you left, I found this ability. I could…”

“Yes?”

“I could make things age.”

“Make things age?” Jessie repeated.

“Yes, and…when Cecil came after me one night, I found how strong this ability really was.”

“You…killed him?”

“I didn’t mean to, but yes.”

“Jesus. And they didn’t arrest you?”

“Some tried. They sent me to Eglin.”

“The Air Force base?”

“Yeah. Then the guys showed up and took me back to the mountain house.”

“Why would they do that, if you can really do this aging thing.”

“Because I’m not the only one. Their abilities are different, but…Eli?”

Eli sat a plastic cup on the table in front of Jessie. Within seconds it melted to a puddle of plastic. Then it reformed back into a cup.

“Fuck me,” Jessie uttered, looked up at Eli, then over to Bobby. “Seriously?”

“Yes; and wait till you see what Wesley and Liam can do,” said Eli, picking up the cup and going back to his original seat.

“What does this mean?” asked Jessie.

“What does it mean? I don’t know that it means anything.”

“I mean, how they have you guys all together, doing whatever it is you can do.”

“It’s for our safety, for some would try to take advantage of it, and it lets us work together.”

“Work on what?”

“Get some sleep. It’s going to be a while before we land. We can talk more when we get home,” Bobby replied, smiling at the reference to home.

After a few minutes, eyes kept closed, Jessie whispered, “I’m still not sure I believe this.”

“You will, brother. You will.”

La Ticla, Mexico

Six Months Later

There was a group of chairs on the beach, neatly aligned in curved rows. Sitting in the front row was Brody’s mother, Preston’s mother and his grandparents, Chester and Elizabeth, and except for Preston and Brody, the others of the team, including Bobby and his brother Jessie. Behind them in the next three rows were Maria and others of the small village, those Preston and Brody still felt a fondness and friendship, time and distance had not diminished.

The wind blew gently off the Pacific, rustling the natural arrangements of flowers either side of a small platform with an arch of white flowers over it. A line of torches stretched out either side of the platform and circled around the small group, growing brighter and brighter as the sky darkened, the sun below the horizon of dark blue waters. Traditional music began to be played, the group of men off to one side, and a local official came down the beach and stood on the platform. The music slowed, the players softening their play, and everyone stood and watched as Preston and Brody came down the beach, arm in arm.

They were making it official, marrying in the place that still seemed to be the center of their world. The ceremony was simple, not lasting long, where they put rings on each other’s finger and kissed. Then everyone moved up to Maria’s place, where food and drink was laid out. This was no traditional marriage, with a tiered wedding cake and the ritual of cutting it, then riding off for a honeymoon. This was a party, with all the revelry and music and food and drink they could enjoy. They would party late into the night, dancing on the sands of the beach, wading along the shore or sitting at the shore’s edge staring up at the brilliance of stars in the clear indigo sky.