Authors: David Brookover
Nick picked up Crow’s laptop and told their waitress, Sarah, to cancel his order and make the others to go. He then asked her if he could use the back door to leave, and she showed him to the kitchen exit. Nick paid for the meals and told her to keep the change for her trouble. Nick checked that the alley was vacant before teleporting himself to the Wolfe mansion’s front porch.
He greeted Hefe with a wave. “Hot day.”
“Si,” he agreed, wiping his forehead with a red-checked bandana. The gardener was accustomed to witnessing magic and didn’t give Nick’s sudden appearance a second thought.
“I don’t feel too well, so I think I’ll go upstairs and grab a quick catnap.”
“Good idea, Senor,” Hefe said and returned to weeding the vast ornamental garden bordering the mansion.
Nick climbed the stairs to the bedroom he shared with Gabriella and ordered the house to shield the bedroom from any prying eyes or ears—magical or otherwise. Steel shutters instantly folded over the two front windows and the single side window, and the beautiful plaster walls became dense insulation. When the house finished, Nick opened the laptop and connected with
Geronimo
.
“Brilliant plan, by the way,” the computer stated flatly. “I take it the others are killing time downtown until you leave Duneden.”
“Something like that.”
“Excellent.”
“Thanks. Now listen up; we don’t have much time. I need more information before I pay Riai Island a visit. The last thing I need is to walk fat, dumb, and happy into an ambush—especially with aliens hanging around there.”
“I shall endeavor to get you the data you require.”
“Good. First, I need a complete report on Donna Lake.”
There was a momentary pause while
Geronimo
hacked the information from various data sources. The laptop screen abruptly filled with pages of text.
“Condense this information to activities associated with outside vendors or Scripps competitors,” he ordered.
Another pause. The text changed on the screen.
“It seems,”
Geronimo
began, “that Donna Lake was a loner who avoided Scripps social events and employee golf and bowling leagues. She very seldom dated, was never married, and had no children. Her one sibling, a brother who was a year older, died in a terrible car accident two years ago. That same crash also killed his wife and three children. Her parents died ten and three years ago. The father died of pancreatic cancer, and the mother of a heart attack. Both were fairly young.”
“Who did she hang with?”
“Her work colleagues, including your aunt, Sue Wright. There have been pictures of them on other people’s Facebook accounts the past four years depicting them in front of a theater, at malls, and the annual Scripps employee picnics,”
Geronimo
reported.
“That’s odd. I wonder why Donna palled around with my aunt. I thought they would have seen enough of each other at work,” Nick submitted.
“Perhaps Donna Lake had an ulterior motive and spent time with your aunt to subtly persuade her to cooperate with Lake’s schemes later on, like shipping Noah off to Terror Island under the guise of a reality show contestant. There may have been other instances of deceit, but I am only speculating at this point. I have no substantial evidence.”
“No problem. Let’s backtrack to the Oracle television network. Is it independently owned, or is it part of a corporate umbrella?”
“I researched Oracle earlier. The network is owned by the Chrysalis International Corporation, which is privately held by a reclusive billionaire named Ulrich Strasser. The corporation is a military supplier of advanced weapons systems, such as rocket launchers and next generation guns that fire sound waves instead of bullets. It is rumored that Chrysalis is on the verge of obtaining a huge military contract for super advanced weapons, but I cannot hack through the corporation’s firewall to locate the contract details. I have tried several times.”
“Don’t sweat it. I’m not concerned with weapons connections at the moment. I’m looking for direct links to aliens or the game show disaster.”
“The weapons link might connect them all together.”
“How so?”
“Chrysalis also owns a company called Cryzo Ventures, LTD.”
“As in cryptozoology?”
“Correct.”
Nick’s interest rose but didn’t get out of hand. He had been disappointed too many times on this case to get excited. “So what does Cryzo Ventures do?”
“Search the planet for cryptids.”
He shook his head. “Sounds ridiculous to me.”
“It is not ridiculous. Remember E.V.A.N. and the clone’s dead DNA parent? Where there’s smoke, there’s fire. Maybe other cryptid sightings throughout the centuries were actually extraterrestrial,”
Geronimo
chastised him.
“Okay, point taken. So how do cryptids fit into the Terror Island debacle?”
“Logically, the criminals you’re looking for might be searching there for specimens.”
“That doesn’t make sense. Why would they call attention to the place they’re searching?” he asked skeptically.
“Like you and your friends hypothesized earlier, the people responsible for the
Final Scream
communications disruption, and presumably dozens of murders, must have had a reason to target Terror Island in the first place. And since Chrysalis has a big advanced weapons contract on the front burner, they are most likely attempting to steal the aliens’ technology. They might have used the
Final Scream
folks as bait to lure the aliens out of hiding. Once that happened, the Chrysalis people could easily track them to their home—Earth home, that is.”
“I don’t entirely buy your theory,
Geronimo
. I think they’re after bigger game. Something valuable on Terror Island that is now destroyed by the volcano.”
“Who or what did you believe started a volcano eruption in a non-volcanic mountain?”
Nick grinned. “I … never thought of it that way.”
“Humans don’t have the technology to trigger a volcanic eruption.”
“So you’re telling me aliens somehow caused that volcanic eruption?”
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you, Nick.”
“So those winged creatures that flew Noah out of harm’s way are the exposed aliens?”
“Perhaps. Perhaps there are other species lurking beneath the dormant volcano on Riai Island.”
“More intelligent beings?”
“Precisely. Wait! I’m picking up an explosion and fire you will be interested in.”
The screen video flipped to a blazing fire in the tropics.
“Where’s the fire?” Nick demanded.
“On the Hawaiian Island of Kauai,” Geronimo replied.
“So why should I be interested in this?”
“Because I just learned from hacking the FBI computer files that this location is owned by the Chrysalis International Corporation.”
Nick arched his brows. “Really? What did they use the property for?”
“According to the FBI, the place
was
their secret Genetic Bio-engineering Lab, overseen by a scientist named Dr. Robert Wilton. Furthermore, unsubstantiated rumors suggest E.V.A.N. was housed there, after it was stolen from Scripps.”
“I guess we’ll never know about that. It looks like the fire wiped out the whole facility.” Nick brightened. “Maybe we can find out who sabotaged the lab by spying on the local military satellite feeds.”
“I tried, but the military reports state the satellite orbiting above Hawaii went on the fritz approximately twenty minutes before the explosion and went back online twenty minutes after the explosion. The official explanation was sun spot interference.”
Nick leaped up and paced the bedroom. “Sunspots? Do our security agencies really believe that bullshit?”
“No. I believe advanced technology incapacitated the satellite’s operations while the saboteurs entered and left the lab. Do you have a more viable hypothesis?”
Geronimo
pressed.
Nick shifted on the edge of the king-sized bed. “You’re not suggesting aliens destroyed the lab, are you?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I know someone who might know the saboteurs’ identities.”
“Who?”
“Ulrich Strasser, the CEO of the Chrysalis Corporation.”
“You plan to visit him?”
“Sure. Let’s do it now.”
“I will locate him before you teleport, but I must caution you. This man is ruthless. Your murder would not even dent his conscience.”
Nick smirked. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
An outraged Ulrich Strasser paced back and forth inside the unoccupied Chrysalis Corporation hangar at its private airport outside San Diego. His sweat-stained armpits and exposed shoulder holster were two sound reasons to avoid the executive. Wind gusts created dust microbursts on the hot tarmac outside the hangar threshold, but none of the lung-choking particles ventured inside. An hour ago, he received word that the Genetic Bio-engineering Lab on Kauai had mysteriously exploded into flames and was a total loss. His lips curled into a vicious scowl. Whoever was responsible for this devastation would pay with their lives.
His aimless walking was interrupted when a blond man carrying a laptop computer entered through the back door and approached him.
Strasser stopped and glared at the intruder. “You’re trespassing. Get out!” he demanded brusquely. He was in no mood to deal with salesmen today.
The man continued forward until he stood a few feet from Strasser. He placed the laptop at his side. “My name’s Nick Bellamy. Feel free to call the cops if you want, but you will listen to what I have to say.”
Strasser maintained icy eye contact, but inside he was emotionally shaken. Annoyed. No wonder he hadn’t heard from Benjamin. Bellamy must have killed him.
Strasser faked a disinterested look. “Are you a Chrysalis employee? I can’t know you all by name, you know?” he lied.
Nick’s new thought absorption ability washed over the CEO, stripping away his deepest secrets like peeling away dead skin. “No, but I’m sure the hit man you paid to plant a bomb under my car at Scripps knew who I was,” he retorted.
Despite his determination to stay noncommittal, Strasser’s pinched gaze betrayed his contempt for Nick. “I’m afraid you have me confused with somebody else. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a flight to catch.”
“To Kauai, maybe? Let me save you the trip. Your Genetic Bio-engineering Lab is a burned out shell, and if the Pentagon’s precious alien specimen, E.V.A.N., was charbroiled to a crispy critter inside, then all you can accomplish there is to get a tan.”
Strasser stepped back, drew his 9mm Smith and Wesson, and pointed it at Nick’s face. “This is for Richard,” he growled.
Nick remained cool. “That’s a strange name for the Oriental hit man who tried to murder me during my flight to Columbus.”
Strasser appeared confused. “Oriental?”
“Yeah—Chinese. Was he your pro assassin?”
“Richard was
not
Chinese.”
Nick sniggered and snapped his fingers. “No, of course he wasn’t. Your man taped a bomb under my rental car, but it didn’t go off.”
Strasser stood speechless, so Nick went on. “I sniffed out the bomb and disarmed it before it exploded, but I wasn’t the one who murdered your hit man, Benjamin. In fact, I never even saw him. The credit for his elimination belongs to the Chinese assassin before he boarded my plane in San Diego. He was sent by a sorcerer to finish Richard and me.”
Sorcerer?
Impossible.
Wasn’t it?
A single name came to Strasser’s mind—the
Superior
. She was the only person who knew he sent Benjamin to kill Bellamy.
But why would she sic her own hired assassin on Benjamin?
“It doesn’t really matter who killed Richard, Bellamy, because you’re still a thorn in my side.”
“Am I the one preventing you from raking in millions, maybe billions of dollars on the
Final Scream
operation solely because I killed the Oriental
and
Donna Lake?”
Strasser’s grip on the gun faltered. Bellamy knew way too much about
Final Scream
. The executive felt the operation collapsing around him. “You killed Donna?”
Nick shrugged casually. “Guilty as charged.”
His gun hand started trembling. “How much do you know about our operation?”
“Everything you know.”
“That’s impossible!”
Nick cradled his chin with his free hand. “The Pentagon appointed Jonathan Foster and his rogue NSA agents to protect their investment in you and the late Margaret Wentworth. With Maggie gone, you’re the one who has to bring home the goods or die.”
Strasser laughed harshly. “So what are those
goods
you’re referring to?”
“Alien weaponry. Does that ring a bell?”
“Fuck you!” He pulled the trigger and emptied the clip into Nick, but not one bullet hit home.
Nick employed his
Mortal Eclipse
defense maneuver, splitting his physical being between Earth and its parallel dimension of Kundze, Gabriella’s parents’ original home. Strasser’s bullets sliced through his Earthly holographic phantom presence without wounding his corporal body.
Once the CEO’s gun was empty, Nick rematerialized on Earth, seized Strasser’s gun, and tossed it out of the hangar onto the steamy, sun-drenched tarmac. His other hand shot out and roughly grabbed Strasser’s shirt collar.
“How did you…” Strasser squeaked.
“Shut up and listen!” Nick growled. “You’re going to tell me who’s calling the shots for your operation, or I’m going to wring your neck like a chicken,” Nick threatened. “I know
you
aren’t the ringleader.”
“Okay, okay! Loosen your grip. You’re choking me!”
“You’ll never breathe again if you lie to me.” Nick slightly lessened his grip. “Now start talking.”
“I’ve never met her, but she identifies herself as the…”
Strasser’s breathing stopped, and his complexion reddened before rapidly becoming dark blue. Nick released his grip and lowered the thrashing, suffocating man to the oil-stained concrete floor. It looked like the homicidal sorcerer was at it again.
“Quick! Give me the person’s name!” Nick hissed into Strasser’s ear.
The executive’s struggling slackened as he strained to form words with his quivering lips. “The
Superior
,” he whispered to Nick.
Those proved to be his final words. His lifeless head lolled to the side in Nick’s arms, and Nick gently lowered it to the hangar floor. He walked out the back door into the rear parking area. Strasser’s Cadillac was the only vehicle there.
Nick’s assumption back in Duneden was correct. The Leader of the
Final Scream
operation was spying on him, but Nick never suspected the undercover person was a woman. His plan to ditch his friends at the
Lamplighter
obviously worked to perfection, except there was one unexpected casualty: Strasser. In Nick’s absence, Gabriella, Neo, and Crow hopefully executed their part of his plan without interference.
Although he wasn’t any closer to discovering his enemy’s name than he was when he teleported here, he did learn the leader was a woman. And he witnessed her considerable magical muscle twice.
Was she more powerful than the aliens she sought?
he wondered.
Speaking of aliens, Nick fretted about entrusting his nephew’s life to a flock of winged aliens.
Was Noah their prisoner … or friend?
Nick planned to find out soon.
Very
soon.