Hunting Will (3 page)

Porthos grasped a lever on the dash behind the steering wheel and pulled it forward. The automobile steering wheel flipped into hiding, replaced with a pilot’s yoke. The action triggered a physical rumbling as the engines increased power, though the noise was minimized. The craft controlled its elevation via specialized magnets that repelled gravity more strongly as the amount of power supplied to the magnets increased. The energy supply grew as Porthos pulled back on the yoke and angled the invisible flying car into the sky and above the tree line. As their energy supplies were limited, Porthos knew he’d need to keep power usage to a minimum to reach their intermediate destination.

Will Stark had regained consciousness and sat quietly in the back seat, watching the events unfold around him. Perhaps, Athos thought, the fugitive recognized that resistance was futile, and that any excessive effort to extricate himself could well result in crashing the aircraft. Such an effort would put his own life at risk, and it was unlikely Stark would take such a risk. Athos glanced at the man, and to his terror noted that Stark’s jade green eyes had refocused; the effects of the serum had worn off. Will Stark was plotting something. A focused, angry Will Stark was their greatest fear.

Over the years the Aliomenti had evolved, they’d created rules for behavior related to the usage of the knowledge and skills they’d developed. They’d made scientific and health advances often centuries before the human general population, advances that enabled the group to accumulate immense wealth and power. The rules restricted the ability of members of the Aliomenti to widely share what they’d learned; spreading the knowledge out would dilute the effect and limit the advantages of the knowledge. The rules had grown more numerous and the penalties more severe, until finally one man broke free from the Aliomenti in protest. Others followed him, believing it critical to introduce advances among the wider human population to advance the entire planet. The Hunters were created to chase down the rebels, and the position of the Assassin was created to permanently silence those humans who might have received Aliomenti knowledge without first being invited to join the Aliomenti through proper channels. New members were required to first swear to follow the Aliomenti rules and abide by the penalties assigned for violations.

The most critical of these rules, known as the Four Oaths, mandated penalties up to and including death of the offending Aliomenti. The Hunters and Assassins located, imprisoned, and executed offenders as the rules prescribed.

Aramis acted as a figurative pair of handcuffs, subduing those captured on Hunts until they were properly imprisoned. For his skill to have maximum effect, he must remain in contact with the prisoner
–
and awake. Even now, Porthos and Athos handed Aramis food tablets laced with caffeine and other stimulants to ensure his alertness and concentration never wavered. The strain was already showing on Aramis’ face, however, as the drugs used to sedate Stark earlier worked their way through his system, accelerated by the man’s rapid healing abilities. Stark was working to recharge his massive Energy stores as only he could, and if he succeeded, the results would be disastrous for all three Hunters. The prisoner would escape, and that meant they’d be injured gravely, have to face the wrath of their Leader… or, most likely, both.

“Athos,” Aramis said, through gritted teeth. “I could use a hand here…” The sweat rising from the man’s forehead was starting to drip down his face, threatening to dislodge his glasses. Aramis’ eyesight was beyond perfect; the glasses were simply an accessory he enjoyed, much like the top hat he wore in more private settings. Losing the glasses wasn’t cause for alarm, but the strain of maintaining his hold on Stark could become problematic in rapid fashion.

Athos held up his hands. “I only brought one dose. I was told it would be enough.”

Porthos snorted. “Lab guys wrong again, huh? Stunning, that.” He turned to risk a quick glance at Aramis, his shoulder-length brown hair swirling to the side. “Wow, dude, you’re going to need a shower after this.” He sniffed loudly. “Hey Stark, be a real gem and stop forcing Aramis to ramp up the body odor, okay? I’m trying to fly this thing safely.”

Stark, whose calm and composure stood in marked contrast to Aramis’ strain, smiled. “I can’t really turn off my Energy production, now, can I, Porthos? It’s as natural a part of me as breathing. As I see it, the only solution to your olfactory quandary is to release me.” He glanced at Aramis, as the blond-haired man’s features continued to flush. “Or Aramis can just give it up and I’ll leave on my own. No hard feelings for the unfriendly greeting back in the parking garage.”

Athos turned and glared at the prisoner. “Not a chance, Stark. We have a job to do, and we
will
complete our mission successfully.”

Stark yawned. “I’d say that’s dependent on whether Porthos can get me into your long-range prison craft before Aramis cracks under pressure, wouldn’t you?” He reached over with his free hand and patted Aramis on the shoulder. “Ease up, old man. It’ll be less painful for you if you do. You
know
you can’t win this.”

Aramis’ eyes raged, even as he struggled to breathe. “I know nothing of the sort. I won’t
ever
quit.”

Stark shrugged, and made a show of shaking Aramis’ sweat off his free hand. “Wake me when it’s over. If I haven’t already escaped, that is.”

Athos tapped on his head, just behind his ear. “This is Athos, requesting a position update for the prisoner transport craft. We have Stark in custody but are starting to lose contain.” He spoke in a quiet voice; the microphone embedded in his head would amplify the sound before transmission. It was the same technology the Hunters had used to coordinate their actions in capturing Stark. While they could have used telepathy — a skill all three had mastered years earlier — Stark would likely sense them ahead of time and be warned of their approach, enabling him to take evasive action. Stark, of course, had chided them for such measures.

Athos checked the reported position of the transport craft using an in-dash map, relative to their current position. The smaller craft holding Stark would arrive at the rendezvous point in five minutes. The larger transport craft, with the Energy-dampering cell for holding Stark, would arrive about five minutes after that. “Negative,” Athos murmured. “Need you to accelerate to maximum speed. Our captive is
Will Stark
. Uncertain if we can restrain him another ten minutes.”

Athos signed off a few seconds later, disgusted, as he’d been told in no uncertain terms that the craft was traveling at maximum speed already. Porthos glanced over and read his facial expression. He shrugged, effectively saying, “we’ll do the best we can.” Athos grimaced. That wasn’t an attitude he wanted held by his team. This was serious business; failure meant losing Stark to his cursed Alliance, and the criminal organization would continue attempting to lift the humans out of their decrepit states, encouraging them to discover and develop the advances the Aliomenti had worked centuries to find. The Hunters, and their Leader, considered this theft of their intellectual property as theft of the worst sort, and an act of treason.

He glanced into the back seat yet again. Aramis was not going to make it; that much was certain. The Hunter was hanging on bravely, but the mental effort to try to snuff out Stark’s massive Energy stores was proving overwhelming. Athos had seen Aramis completely drain a number of very powerful Aliomenti fugitives, seemingly with less effort than breathing. Stark’s Energy capacity must be simply enormous.

He would not allow this mission to fail, not again. He knew that the Leader wouldn’t stand for another failure. The fact that Will Stark continued to walk free bothered their Leader to an immeasurable degree. The Hunters were victims of their own success, expected to round up Stark without failure as they had done with innumerable others. The Leader simply could not comprehend how the three of them could not bring Stark in to face the justice he richly deserved. Athos looked at Porthos, and saw the look of concern on his face. Even with Aramis’ powerful Energy Damper operating at full force, both men could feel Stark’s Energy starting to leak out.

Porthos tapped the communications device trigger behind his ear. “Transport, please confirm that the execution of the human targets is scheduled to proceed as planned.” He paused. “No, if they’re resisting, you’re permitted to… dissuade them. The Leader won’t mind, and I’m sure The Assassin would assist. He might… slip, though.” He laughed.

Athos watched Stark’s reaction; the man’s countenance immediately switched from cunning and planning to shock and fury. “You wouldn’t
dare
!” he snarled, focusing on Porthos. Porthos chuckled.

With Stark’s attention distracted, Athos located an empty fuel cell near his feet and the door, and quietly detached it from its docking station. As it was already empty, this would have no impact on the quantity of power available to the craft. Even empty, however, the fuel cell was solid and heavy, and could cause considerable damage if it contacted something vulnerable.

Like Will Stark’s head.

Aramis, catch
. Athos projected the message to Aramis telepathically, hoping that Porthos’ continued taunting of Stark about the execution of human prisoners would distract their captive enough that he’d fail to detect the upcoming assault.

Athos surrounded the fuel cell with his Energy, and once the device was smothered pictured it in Aramis’ free left hand. With a burst of Energy, the cell moved instantly to the hand of the Hunter. Stark, in the midst of a savage verbal barrage directed at Porthos, noticed the Energy surge from Athos and turned toward the man in the front passenger seat, expecting an attack. He never saw the fuel cell in Aramis’ hand as the heavy device crashed into the side of his head. Stark crumpled, unconscious again, and Aramis relaxed with an audible sigh, as if the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders. Athos and Porthos relaxed as well, in the hope that the latest physical trauma would keep Stark immobilized until he was safely in his prison cell.

All three Hunters were exhausted from repelling Stark’s repeated assaults, and the last few minutes of their journey to the rendezvous point were spent in silence. Upon landing, Porthos reversed his movements from earlier, and the vehicle transformed back into a land-based vehicle visible from the outside. He stopped the engine and climbed out. Athos climbed out from the passenger side and opened the door wide, then pulled his seat forward. The two-door sedan design didn’t seem like such a good idea at this point; Aramis’ Energy stores were so depleted from his efforts to hold down Stark’s Energy that he had nothing left to use to teleport out of the vehicle. It took several moments, but Aramis and Athos managed to push and pull Stark out of the vehicle, a task complicated by the continued gluing of the hands of the Hunter and fugitive.

Porthos had walked around to the other side of the car and leaned against the vehicle, watching with interest. Once Stark was successfully removed from the vehicle, Athos glared at Porthos. “A bit of help would have been nice,” he snapped.

Porthos shrugged. “The two of you seemed to be having fun, fraternizing with the enemy like that.”

Athos scowled, and Porthos decided he needed to check the opposite side of the vehicle for damage.

Once Porthos completed his “checks,” he returned to join Athos and Aramis, along with the unconscious form of Will Stark. “The transport craft is about three minutes away still, and they’ll need time to land, so figure another five minutes. We’re going to need to tell them to ramp up the juice on the dampering cell for Stark, though, aren’t we?”

Aramis nodded, still groggy from the Dampering effort. “His Energy is completely off the charts. I know it’s been a while since we’ve gotten close enough for me to try this, but it’s up a significant amount since then. I thought he’d peaked then, and that was brutal. He was probably thirty seconds away from recharging enough to teleport, and that’s with full contact with me and the Damper for a solid thirty minutes.” He looked nervous. “Do you think
all
of the Alliance are like him now?”

Athos shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. He’s going to be the exception in any group. But we do need to consider that whatever he’s doing, he’s teaching to others of his ilk. I doubt any of them are anywhere close to his development, but we probably need to assume more extensive development than we’d normally expect from a person given a specific number of years of experience.”

“On the positive side, he’ll get easier and easier to Track,” Porthos noted.

“I certainly hope not!” Aramis snapped. “We’d only need to Track him if he gets loose again today.”

“Touche’.”

“You need to start acting more like a member of this team, Porthos,” Athos said, glaring at the man. The strain of the day was leading him to lose his temper.

“Guys?” Aramis said.

“What, finding the bad guy and flying the getaway plane doesn’t count?”

“Guys?” Aramis repeated.

“Why didn’t you help us get him out of the car?”

“I told you, you had it under control, and I would have been in the way.”

“You could have helped. You could have been asking him to directly provide his plea to the charges against him instead of making me Read him while he was unconscious. But no, instead you stand around—”

“Guys, he’s waking up
right now
!” Aramis’ final words were a scream.