Triskellion 3: The Gathering (28 page)

F
irst came the tears, then the questions.

In the time since they had seen one another, so much had happened to all of them. Rachel and Adam fell into Laura’s arms and, although hampered by the handcuffs, they hugged as best they could, until they could hardly breathe: all craving human contact and comfort. The comfort was missing one important element.

“Where’s Mom?” Adam asked.

Laura wiped the tears from her cheeks and blinked at the twins through red eyes.

“Where is she? What’s happened?” Panic rose in Rachel’s voice. She knew it was bad news.

“She’s in prison,” Laura said.

Rachel and Adam’s relief was palpable. “Thank God,” Rachel cried.

“We thought you meant she was dead.” Adam almost laughed with relief. “She’s probably safer than we are.”

The expression on Laura’s face didn’t change. She didn’t know how to tell them, but she had long since pledged to tell the truth – how ever bad it might be.

“She’s been arrested for murder,” she said.

Rachel and Adam looked at each other in disbelief.

“Mom? Murder?” Rachel shook her head.

“Who did she kill?” Adam asked.

“A man,” Laura said. “A Hope agent who was after you.”

“Shit,” Adam said.

“If she hadn’t, you would never have got out of Australia. Hope was on to you. You left just in time.”

“I think you mean that I came for them just in time,” Gabriel said. He had been silent since Laura had entered the cell, curled up on a metal bench that ran the length of one wall, his face between his knees. He looked lost and confused, as if his brain were not functioning properly.

“Hi, Gabriel,” Laura said. “Yes, you came just in time. How are you? You look terrible.”

It was true. Robbed of his powers, Gabriel looked wasted and emaciated. Laura put her hand on his bony shoulder and, unusually, he stood and embraced her.

“Where is Mom, exactly?” Rachel asked when they had finished hugging.

“In Oklahoma,” Laura said. “In the state penitentiary.”

“What’s going to happen to her?” Adam asked.

“She should have got a lawyer by now. And if he’s any good he’ll be trying to get her extradited to Australia, where it happened, or at the very least back to New York.”

“Why does she need to be moved?” Adam asked. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

Laura paused a moment. The truth, she remembered. “Oklahoma still has the death penalty,” she said.

Adam sat down heavily on the bench next to Rachel; both their faces drained of colour. Visions of their mother strapped to a gurney awaiting a lethal injection flashed through their minds. They leaned against each other and cried. They had thought their situation couldn’t get any worse, and it just had.

“We’ll find a way,” Gabriel said.

“Sorry if we don’t seem very convinced,” Rachel cried. “Mom’s on death row and we
still
have no idea where our dad is. We thought he was going to be here, but…”

Laura laid a hand on Rachel’s shoulder, but said nothing.

“I’m beginning to think he might be dead,” Rachel said.

“He might just as well be,” Adam added. “I’m not even sure I want to find him now, anyway. If he hadn’t left Mom, none of this would have happened. We wouldn’t have been sent away, we wouldn’t have met
you
…” He stabbed a finger at Gabriel.

“Don’t be so sure,” Gabriel said.

Laura nodded. If there was one thing she was certain of, it was that Rachel and Adam would never have lived an ordinary life. She looked at Gabriel. “First, we need to get out of here,” she said.

“Can’t you hear that noise?” Gabriel asked, trying to point out the shrieking frequency that hurt his brain. “It’s torture. It stops any of us from being able to connect.”

Laura listened, but heard nothing.

“We can’t even think straight,” Rachel said. “Let alone overpower anyone or hypnotize a guard. We’re completely helpless.”

“And they’ve taken the Triskellions,” Adam said. “They disabled us with stun guns and took everything.” He thumped the polished steel wall with a resounding boom. “They’re Nazis.”

The word chimed with Laura. She had thought exactly the same herself. She remembered a conversation she’d had with Clay Van der Zee a few years ago during which he had told her exactly what Hope had had in mind for the twins.

It was one horrifying truth she decided to keep to herself.

“The Triskellions are still in the safe,” Crow said. “Under armed guard.”

“Very good.” The director sounded pleased.

Crow took a sip of the bourbon on his desk. It was just after 7 p.m., four hours since Laura Sullivan had arrived on the base, sixteen hours since the children had been captured.

Crow had needed a drink.

He had liked the Australian as soon as she had walked into his office. She was direct with a personal warmth, and was obviously good-looking. He had felt uncomfortable locking her up. He would have far preferred to have spent the evening having dinner with her or just talking. After New York, Crow was incredibly lonely in Alamogordo, and Laura Sullivan’s company was exactly the kind he craved.

“I’ve put Doctor Sullivan in with the children as you instructed,” he said.

“Are they wired?” the director asked.

“Of course, sir.”

“Good. Let’s see what she can get out of them.”

“They’ve been talking plenty – about the mother and so on. The father, too.”

The director said nothing for a few seconds. Then: “What about the
other
boy, Crow? Let’s not forget what we’re dealing with here.”

“Under control, sir. The inhibitor frequency appears to have completely blocked his powers. He seems to be very weak.”

“Good. Once we’ve broken him a bit more, I’d like you to isolate him, then run the tests.”

“Very good, sir.”

“But my immediate concern is the Triskellions. I want your personal guarantee that they will be on their way to New York on a military jet tomorrow.”

“You have it, sir.”

“Good work, Todd.” His voice sounded almost warm.

It was the first time Crow could ever remember the director using his first name. It might be the first stage of my rehabilitation, he thought. “One more thing,” he said; “what about the twins?”

“Get a team working on them in the BETA lab first thing in the morning. I want full genetic profiling, plus a CAT scan analysis of every inch of their bodies, with tissue samples to back up the scan: brain, gut, reproductive, everything. We need every scrap of information analysed and compared with samples from the other one – Gabriel, as you say they call him.”

Crow suddenly felt cold. “Full tissue sample analysis, sir?” His mouth had dried and he took a sip from his glass. “But that means we have to—”

“I
know
what it means, Crow,” the director said. Any glimmer of warmth was gone from his voice. “Now get me those Triskellions and get on with your work…”

A few minutes after the director had slammed the phone down on him, Crow left his office and walked along the corridor to the small room at the end. Nodding to the armed officer outside, Crow took the key from the chain attached to his belt and opened the door.

It was warm inside and the air smelled stale. Crow felt his heart start to beat that little bit faster. He crossed to the huge metal safe built into the far wall, rubbing his hands across his legs to wipe the sweat from his palms. He reached forward to key in the combination, then froze and span round, suddenly overcome by the sense that there was someone else in the room with him.

The room was every bit as empty as it had been when he’d entered it.

“What am I doing?” he muttered to himself.

When he had opened the safe, he took out the pair of small brown leather pouches which held the Triskellions. He had not once given in to the temptation to look at them since they had been taken from Rachel and Adam Newman, but suddenly, for reasons he could not fathom, he wanted more than anything to see them again for himself.

He tipped the pouches one at a time and the amulets dropped into his palm.

It felt as though he had been wired up to the mains… The surge died away as quickly as it had come, but it left a … buzz inside him. All at once, he felt stronger and unafraid – of the director and his stupid threats. Of anything…

Staring down at the objects in his hand, his vision blurred; he was transfixed by the warm glow that was spreading across his palm. It slid up his arms and into his chest…

“Beautiful,” he heard himself say.

Would anyone know if he simply took them and ran? he wondered. Would they ever catch him…?

Taking a deep breath, he forced his eyes shut. It was far from easy. Keeping them closed, he shoved the Triskellions back into their pouches and back into the safe. Opening his eyes again, he stood there, staring at the gunmetal grey door of the safe, until he felt almost normal again.

Then he locked the room behind him and hurried back down the corridor to his office.

Back to his bourbon.

M
ajor Todd Crow could not remember feeling worse.

He had drunk a lot more bourbon than he had intended to the night before – all but finishing the bottle once he was off duty – and his throbbing head and churning stomach were not helped by the fact that he had barely slept. Normally that much whisky would have put him out like a light, but he had lain awake, slick with sweat, thinking about the prison cell on the other side of the base. Thinking about Laura Sullivan and the three children with whom she was being held prisoner.

What little sleep he
had
been able to get had been punctuated with dreams that were full of blood and bright lights, and thinking about them now made the burning in his gut even worse; he wanted to run out into the desert and lie down until the images faded and the sand crept over him.

Crow had not known a great deal of contentment since his transfer to Alamogordo, but he could not imagine how things could be worse than this. For the last few days carrying out his orders had made him feel physically sick. He had looked away when the children had been brought down with Tasers and had felt something like a stone in his chest as he had ushered Laura Sullivan into the cell to join them.

He was a soldier, not a prison governor.

He drank the best part of a large bottle of water and stared down at his desktop. “I didn’t sign up for this,” he said.

“Excuse me, sir?”

Crow looked up and saw his assistant in the doorway. “Sorry, Parker, just talking to myself.”

Parker stared back blankly, then nodded. “I have the director ringing through from New York, sir. It sounds urgent.”

“It’s always urgent,” Crow muttered. He stared at the phone as Parker scuttled back into the adjoining office, fantasizing about telling the director he was quitting – he could find some other patsy to do his dirty work.

The phone rang. The fantasy evaporated and Crow snatched up the handset.

“Good morning, Todd.” The director sounded as chipper and glad to be alive as Crow felt gloomy and thick-headed. “Thought a nice early reminder might be a good idea.”

“Reminder, sir?’

“My Triskellions, Todd. I presume they are already on their way here.”

“Sir, not as yet, sir…”

The director’s mood blackened in a heartbeat. His voice dropped, took on an edge. “How clear do I need to make this, Crow? There is nothing,
nothing,
as important as getting those two amulets to me as soon as possible. Do you understand? I don’t care if we’re invaded – I don’t care if every country under the sun decides to launch missiles against us – you get the Triskellions to New York, and you do it now.”

“Yessir.” Crow could feel his stomach start to roll and burn, the jackhammer behind his skull picking up speed.

“You just need to follow orders, Crow. It’s not difficult, is it?”

“No, sir, but there are still … issues we need to resolve.”

“Issues?”

“The children, sir.”

There was half a minute’s silence. Crow could hear the director’s breathing. “They are no longer your responsibility, Major. You’ve done your job … not as well as I would have liked, mind you … and now it’s time to let the scientists get on with theirs.”

“I still don’t—”

“I’m authorizing the research process to begin at once. Have the lab prepped and get things started.”

Crow’s breathing felt laboured; the stone in his chest had doubled in size. “Which … one…?”

“We’ll save the Gabriel character until last, I think. He should yield the most interesting results. You can start with the Newman children.”

“Yessir.”

“You sound a little worried, Crow.”

“I’m fine,” Crow lied.

“Good, because it’s just science. Nothing to get hot and bothered about. We clear?”

“Clear, sir.” Crow turned away from the bright light streaming through his office window. He had never felt less clear about anything in his entire life. “I’ll get right on it.”

“And my Triskellions?”

“On their way. I’ll get an F-35 fuelled up and brief my best pilot.”

“Bring them yourself,” the director said. “There’s no better pilot on the base, and I know I can trust you.” He let his words hang for a second or two before adding, “I
can
trust you, can’t I, Todd?”