Lexie, page 4
Chan said, “You think the cosmic entities, the Game players, are enough?”
“Not only enough, but they may be the reason why we’ve never found any evidence of alien visits. You know that big ball of gas we call Jupiter that spins around out there beyond the asteroids?”
“I think I might’ve heard of it,” Chan said.
“It’s known for catching a lot of the comets coming through the Solar system that might otherwise head our way. Well, the Owner entity, the one also known as the Ally, may do something along those same lines.”
Danni winked at Chan. “Looking out for us, ay?”
Luka snorted. “Hardly. A bear will keep other hungry animals away from a honeycomb it’s discovered. Not because it wants to protect the bees, but because it wants all that honey for itself. The situation here with the Ally is the same. This is its game and we’re its toys, and it doesn’t want any little green or gray men getting their knobby fingers all over us. So if they ever showed up—and that’s a big if, considering the rarity of sapience, let alone space-faring civilizations in the galaxy—it no doubt sent them packing.”
“From what we can tell,” Zina said, “the signal seems to be following D-31a which is the fragment with the sub, which leads me to believe that the sub is the focus. Which means…” She let the words hang.
“Road trip!” Luka said.
Chan felt a stab of dismay. They were allowing themselves to get sidetracked. The focus needed to remain on finding Nicolette and Pam and those kids. Zina seemed to read his mind.
“Don’t worry, you two. We’re not giving up on the Squatter’s family. Lots of assets have been deployed to locate them. We’ll find them. Ilya will stay here with you while Luka and I head to that iceberg.”
Chan supposed it was all right, but…
“I just feel we’re getting distracted.”
“Here’s something you should keep in mind,” Ilya said. “So much of these phenomena are connected. Last spring SESOUP had a gathering during which one of its organizers, Melanie Ehler, was trying to put together a Grand Unification theory which tied everything together. She disappeared—along with her house—before she could formulate it, but I think she was on the right track. The signals Burbank is tracking are very likely related to the entities and the Game. Don’t ask me how, because I haven’t the foggiest.”
“Everything is connected,” Zina said. “Everything. And there are no coincidences. The signals didn’t start until the spring of forty-one. The United States was still eight months away from entering World War Two, so who knows? Maybe U-104 was down there during that period to explore the possibilities of an Antarctic base for the Third Reich.” She leaned forward with an intent look. “Maybe they found something related to the entities that attracts the signals. Maybe they were bringing it back when something happened and they never made it home.”
“And maybe they simply got caught in the ice,” Chan said.
“Then why is the signal following the sub? We need to answer this. That is our brief in NSA: explore unexplained phenomena. And this is doubly unexplained. We can’t not go.”
Chan gave a reluctant nod. He could see that. “You do what you have to do. I was just pulling your chain.”
“I figured that,” Zina said. “But you need to understand that I want to find the remnants of the Squatters family as much as you do, especially before someone else does.”
“‘Someone else’?” Danni said.
“Yeah. Well, something else. The Ally, for one. It absorbed the Squatter and killed everyone on its mountain. I’m hoping it will be satisfied with that. But it might not. It might want to go scorched-earth and wipe out every last vestige of the Squatter; if so, it will send some of its minions against the kids, and they’ll be going for a final solution. But they might not be the only ones. The Septimus order, which serves the other side, the Otherness, might feel the same: Remove every trace of the rogue entity.”
“And R3A?” Danni said.
“I told you earlier how we found genes in the germlines of the fathers of two of those children, genes that hadn’t been expressed in the fathers. The Squatter didn’t put them there just for fun. It had a reason, and I want to know what that reason was.” She fixed Chan with her icy blue gaze. “You saw the children when you were being recruited by the Family. Did you notice anything odd about them?”
“You mean like an extra head?”
She rolled her eyes and filled his name with exasperation. “Chan…”
“Sorry. Nothing physical, but they did seem a bit off.”
“How so?”
He shook his head. “Never could pinpoint it. Just a feeling that they were… different.”
“You were sensing those genes.” She slapped the top of her console. “We’ve got to corral them and haul them to safety before they’re wiped out.”
4
Incredulous, Cal Davis stared at the Oculus.
“You…you want us to kill women and children?”
“Not I,” said the Oculus. “The Ally. I am merely relaying the message. The Ally showed me where to find them and what it wants done with them. Which is to… slaughter them.”
The Oculus, a middle-aged man in a long robe, had long silvery locks and a face that often glowed with a beatific expression. But that expression was missing today. Cal couldn’t tell from the Oculus’s black eyes—all black, pupils, irises, even black where white used to be—but the rest of his face showed distress.
How could it not? The Ally was demanding the slaughter of a group of women and children.
With the announcement that the Oculus had received a vision, Cal had gathered along with the rest of the yeniçeri on the ground floor of the Northeast Home to hear about it. The building had once been known as the Red Hook Home, or sometimes the New York Home, but that was back when there had been more Oculi. And more yeniçeri. But no way had he expected anything like this.
“But that’s not what we’re about,” Cal said. “We don’t kill women and children.”
“Shut it, Davis,” said a gruff voice behind him. “We do what the Ally tells us to do.”
Cal didn’t bother turning. He knew that voice: Manfred Kosmatka. The self-proclaimed head of this cadre of yeniçeri, and slavishly loyal to the Ally. As was Cal… until this moment. He knew he could not go through with something like this. But that didn’t stop him from wondering why… why kill women and children?
“Did the Ally give a reason?”
“It doesn’t have to,” said Kosmatka.
“It did this time,” the O said. “A burst of knowledge accompanied the vision and I suddenly knew that these people had been modified by the Squatter before the Ally absorbed it, which means they’ll be out in the Ally’s world fulfilling the Squatter’s plans. The Ally can’t allow that. They have no place here and… according to the Ally… must be eliminated.”
…according to the Ally…that told Cal that the O was not in agreement. He thought about Diana, the Oculus’s pudgy, blond, preteen daughter.
“How do you feel about it?” he said.
“My feelings do not matter. What needs doing must be done.”
“What if it was your child? What if it was Diana?”
“Enough!” Kosmatka shouted. “We, the yeniçeri, do the Ally’s work, and yeniçeri have no children. We live to serve and protect. But I understand how some of you may lack the courage—”
That stung. Cal whirled and blurted, “We were trained to fight people who were threatening innocents—fight the Otherness. That meant fighting people who could fight back, not helpless innocents.”
Kosmatka sneered. “What makes you so sure they’re innocent? What if they’ve been the ones killing off the Oculi and our brother yeniçeri?”
“You don’t for a moment believe that, do you?”
“Whatever,” he said with a dismissive wave. “It doesn’t matter what I believe beyond doing the Ally’s work.” He looked at the Oculus. “How many are we talking about?”
“Eighteen—nine women, eight children, and a male property manager.”
Kosmatka nodded. “Okay, then. Four of us ought to be plenty.” He turned to his brother yeniçeri. “I will need three volunteers.”
His right-hand man, Miller, was first to volunteer—of course—followed by Sabra, Corso, and Frizzell. He chose the last three, leaving Miller with a stunned look.
“Hey, what?” the big man said. “I smell bad or something?”
“Miller, you stay here. I need someone reliable in charge while I am away. The Oculus needs alert protection.”
Cal was going to protest that remark as well, but decided it wasn’t worth it. The Oculus did need extra protection. Someone had been invading the various Homes around the globe and slaughtering the Oculi and their attendant yeniçeri. Undoubtedly the work of agents of the Otherness, so they had to be extra watchful.
Their Oculus was concerned about his safety as well. Cal thought he knew why. The O had confided to him once that one did not choose to be an Oculus, one inherited the position—from parent to child—and he dreaded the mantle passing to his daughter too soon. In fact, he dreaded it passing to her at all. Given a choice, he’d have it fall to someone else.
Cal’s stomach turned as he watched the four men pull shotguns and machine guns from the weapons locker.
… yeniçeri have no children…
True enough. But perhaps if they did they’d have a different perspective on this mission.
If only the Twins were here now. They might handle the situation differently. In fact, he was sure they would. The Twins had recruited the yeniçeri and trained them and led them—until they disappeared a few months ago. Cal suspected they might have been in that house in the Village of Monroe—the Ehler house—when it mysteriously vanished last April. The Twins had minds of their own. Yes, they served the Ally, but they hadn’t been afraid to question the means to any desired end. Unlike the Ally. It had no regard for collateral damage.
Cal missed the Twins terribly. He returned to his quarters on the third floor. He needed to be alone.
5
Kristof Szeto felt a nudge and heard, “Wake up. Looks like something’s actually happening.”
He had a moment of disorientation as he parted his sticky eyelids and realized he was slumped in the front seat of a car. Then he remembered: The Order had placed him on watch duty outside the headquarters of the New York Oculus here in Red Hook. Szeto didn’t like Red Hook. Water on three sides and too many docks. And old. Gentrification had sneaked in here, but some of the streets still had their original cobblestones. They’d settled their car into a space along the edge of Red Hook Park where they had a view of the headquarters: a small, three-story brick warehouse with faded white letters spelling Wholesale Furniture across its front. All the windows—at least all he could see—had been bricked over. He knew a squadron of the Owner’s yeniçeri lived there. He was glad he did not. He liked windows.
The disappearance of the mountain in the Catskills on Sunday had heralded the defeat of the Squatter. But word had come that some of its followers had escaped. Ernst Drexler, the Actuator at the New York Septimus Lodge, had set up surveillance on the Owner’s minions. After two days of nothing, day three just might be paying off. The yeniçeri were loading up a black Suburban.
His watch companion, Renza, sat behind the steering wheel. “Those duffels look roomy enough for Kalashnikovs and the like.”
“They certainly do. Not only that, it appears they’re dressed for business.”
White shirts under a black suit and tie, topped with a black fedora and sunglasses. The yençeri’s mentors, the Twins, had always dressed like that, and their troops did the same whenever they left their headquarters and went out into the world.
“Looks like they’re heading out to get blood on their hands. Better call it in.”
Szeto was already reaching for his phone. He had Drexler on speed dial and tapped the digit. Szeto had been stationed in Austria and had been part of a team that had traveled to Romania to eradicate a nest of the Owner’s followers in Bucharest, killing its Oculus and dispatching most of the yeniçeri in their beds. But things had gotten hot for him over there so he’d been transferred from the Vienna Lodge to New York a couple of years ago. Drexler had been born in Germany and the two of them had hit it off. Szeto liked having the confidence of the lead Actuator, and Drexler had found he could depend on Szeto to get the job done, whatever it was.
Drexler’s lightly accented voice came through the phone. “Yes, Szeto.”
“We have four on move from Red Hook, looking loaded for bear, as expression goes.”
“Ha! Then my instincts were right. The Owner has located the last vestiges of the Squatter and wants to eliminate them. As do we. Remnants of a third Player are wild cards who can only cause disruptions in the Game. But we’ll let them do the dirty work. Follow them at a distance. Watch and make sure they leave no loose ends.”
“You think they might?”
“Without the Twins to guide them, I expect discipline to deteriorate and their operations to get sloppy. I want you there to make sure the job is done to my standards.”
“Leave it to me.”
The Twins…the two ruthlessly efficient agents of the Owner who struck fear into the heart of any operative for the Order. But no one had seen them since the spring. Were they truly gone, or merely in hiding, waiting to strike?
He watched the yeniçeri car ease into traffic and let it reach the next block before tapping Renza’s shoulder.
“Follow them. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you not to lose them.”
THURSDAY
1
Szeto and Renza sat well back from the condo complex and watched the yeniçeri Suburban through field glasses, waiting for them to make a move.
Szeto had had no idea they’d be spending nearly three hours on the road yesterday to end up here in New Hampshire—Keene, New Hampshire, no less. Szeto was from Austria, so he didn’t expect to be familiar with United States cities and towns, but even Renza, born and raised here, had never heard of it.
The yeniçeri drove by this complex three times last night, then headed for town and checked into a Fairfield Inn. Szeto and Renza did the same, but not before Szeto had attached a GPS tracker to the underside of the Suburban’s rear bumper. Its app on Szeto’s phone sounded a warning when the tracker started moving and so they were alerted this morning when the yeniçeri headed out.
And now they were back at the condo complex. The Suburban had parked in a thick copse of trees within fifty yards of the building. Szeto had the wheel this morning and he’d parked another fifty yards behind them. With the undergrowth in full summer bloom, neither car was visible from the condos.
“What are they doing?” Renza said.
“Just getting lay of the land, I think. I do not know how much data they have, but must be gaps in knowledge. My best estimate is twenty units in this place. If I am in their spot, I want to get idea of dispersion of people within building. I am thinking their plan is invade complex and go from unit to unit and shoot anything that moves. But if people are spread all through building, that can get involved and messy. If they are clustered on one of the floors, though, that makes things easier.”
“They shoulda brought more of their buddies,” Renza said. “That way they could cover the exits better. And what’s with that school bus out front?”
Szeto had wondered the same thing. It had been parked out there last night as well.
“I do not know. Maybe for trips. Word is only women and children escaped. Is almost sure they have no guns. Easy pickings.”
And then a door in the middle of the complex opened and people started wandering out.
“Uh-oh,” Renza said. “This ain’t good. You start shooting outside and they can take off in all directions and get lost in the trees.”
Renza wasn’t the brightest of the Order’s operatives, but Szeto had to agree that this morning he had a very good point. No, this wasn’t good at all.
But instead of dispersing, they stayed together and headed as a group directly to the circular building a hundred or so feet from the complex.
“Ay, yo, that looks like a clubhouse,” Renza said. “I bet they’re gonna have some sort of meeting.” He slapped the dashboard. “Are you kidding me? All crammed into a single little building? Those fucking yeniçeri must live right.”
Szeto counted seventeen women and children, none of them armed. No reason to be.
And then a man in coveralls stepped out of the main building and followed.
“Who’s this now?” Renza said.
“From his look I would say handyman of some sort.”
If the man was carrying, he didn’t show it.
As soon as everyone disappeared inside, the yeniçeri hopped from their SUV and began pulling guns from the rear. Szeto recognized MP5s with extended banana magazines. He was familiar with the weapon. It fired 800 rounds per minute. This would be over very soon.
“Mister Drexler sent us here to make sure there are no loose ends. I do not think that will be problem.”
Renza laughed.
2
Another meeting.
Pam sighed as they all found seats in the clubhouse’s main meeting room. She guessed frequent get-togethers like this would be necessary until they’d all settled into a new routine. No one wanted the kids going off to public school so their home education curriculum had to be set up. Shopping schedules had to be worked out, as well as—
Four men stepped through the door, all in black suits with white shirts and skinny black ties, all wearing black hats and sunglasses. What was this? A fucking Blues Brothers act?
Then they raised these shiny black guns and began to fire. They concentrated their first fire on Rick the property manager; the bullets literally tore him apart. Pam wailed and ducked behind a pillar as they began shooting in all directions. The room erupted into screaming chaos. She saw Daphne’s head explode. Blood was everywhere, bodies lay scattered in all directions.
