Praise for the Novels of DCS

Synarchy Book 1: The Awakening

“There's just something about the way that DCS writes that allows the eyes to flow over the page, lifting the story into the air. The descriptions and especially display of emotions were so vivid that one could really see the story.”

-A Journey of Books

“In a world where every idea has been done and redone, it’s refreshing to read something that hasn’t been done quite like this before.”

-Morbid Romantic Book Reviewer

“Fast paced, never a page without some action – twists and drama galore carry the reader though this book like reading a hint of what is to come. This book requires your close attention, but it will grab it and keep it from the very first pages. It is absolutely impossible to put down!”

-BCF Book Reviews

SYNARCHY

Book 2: The Ascension

A Novel By

DCS

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2009 DCS

Cover Illustration by Jesse Matthew Elliot www.idyllwerx.com

All rights reserved. Published in the United States by SVT Publishing. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Author’s Note:

The second installment of the Synarchy Series follows in its predecessor’s footsteps as being a blend of fact and fiction. But, just as exciting (at least to me), there are portions of the book that are a fabulous co-creation between myself and two other writers.

I have marked these sections with an asterisk to give proper credit where it is due; something I should have done with the first book. I wish to take a moment to sincerely thank Jessica Gerson, a perplexing anomaly of a young woman who is not only a great writer, but a human encyclopedia. Carissa Terenzio is her creation. I must also send my extreme thanks and gratitude to Sara Hendrickson, the mind behind Marilyn Pearl and Liliana Terenzio, whom readers of Book One will know the character of Simone Terenzio to be based off of. Sara is also my editor and will be the primary author behind Synarchy Book 4: The Black Widow. I remain one of Sara’s biggest fans; her writing skill is phenomenal, and I cannot wait to sit down and write the fourth book with her.

I cannot express my thanks enough to these two women. Without their contributions, both creatively and administratively, this novel would not be nearly as good as it is.

Acknowledgments

As always to my family, who tolerates my insane world views and still encourages me to speak my truth. Mom, Daddy JB, Margaret, Tara, Mamma Bologna, Daddy Bologna and Leigh, I love you all more than I can say.

To my brother, Keith, another round of heartfelt thanks for your artistic eyeballing of the book cover, constructive criticism of my fight scenes, and for helping me keep things as realistic as one can get when dabbling in science fiction. When we finally turn this into a video game, it’s so going to rock. I love you.

To The Clackers my biggest fans, I cannot wait for you to read this! Thank you all from the bottom of my heart for your support of my work.

To Julie, I cannot thank you enough for the unique perspective you provided and your invaluable feedback of my work. Great things are coming for you chica! And where are my minions…

To Jesse Matthew Elliot an amazing artist and lightworker. The book cover is absolutely stunning, thank you so much for designing it!

To Grey Cross, you are one of the most important people in my life, and still one who inspires. I am often envious of your utterly amazing creativity and talent. It’s been such fun sharing this journey with you. I love you.

To Shawn, I’m terribly proud of you for finding the courage and strength to go on your own adventure. You’re going to do magical things in the world, I cannot wait to be witness to them. JT is your creation, I hope I have done him justice. Love you! Aj too!

To Russ, my Jedi man friend, you are the one you’ve been waiting for. I want you to know that I think the world of you and cannot wait to watch your powers of co-creation manifest.

To Sarah, my words are almost inadequate. Thank you, for being another vital editor for this novel, for the life you breathed into Cleona, for always inspiring me to evolve and grow into the best that I am. The last ten years have been absolutely amazing. Sing more. I love yah.

To Scott, in a very short time, you have touched me in such a profound way. It is terrifying and exhilarating and I want more of it. Where ever this journey is taking us, I’m in. I love you.

To you. Yes, you, the one reading these words:

May this book be the catalyst that propels you forward on your journey of discovery;

About the power of you.

Love, Courage, and Co-Creation

DCS

Cast of Characters:

Vasco Terenzio: Co-President of the Dion Corporation, an empire run by the Terenzio family. First-born triplet. Siblings are Simone and Lucien. Vasco recently learned that in a previous life (aka reincarnation, or past life) he was Stefano Vasco Terenzio, the mastermind behind his family’s plot to destroy the Anunnaki and the Brotherhood, and free Earth. Vasco will do whatever is necessary to stop the Anunnaki and Brotherhood’s plans.

Simone Terenzio: Co-President of the Dion Corporation. Second-born triplet. Siblings are Vasco and Lucien. Simone recently learned that in a previous life she was Liliana Terenzio, sister to Stefano Terenzio, also known as the Black Widow because of her habit for murdering her husbands. Liliana stopped killing husbands when she married Alcyone Island AF General Kyle Zhane. Simone will do whatever is necessary to stop the Anunnaki and Brotherhood’s plans.

Lucien Terenzio: Co-President of the Dion Corporation. Third-born triplet. Siblings are Vasco and Simone. Recently learned that in a previous life he was Julian Terenzio, brother to Stefano Terenzio. Julian was responsible for keeping his brother’s secret, and working as a double agent for the Brotherhood after Stefano’s death. Lucien will do whatever is necessary to stop the Anunnaki and Brotherhood’s plans.

Caleb Kincade: Director of Security for the Dion Corporation. Personal bodyguard for the triplets. Caleb has always known that in a previous life he was Alcyone Island Air Force General Kyle Zhane, and Liliana Terenzio’s husband. He is secretly in love with Simone. Caleb will do anything to protect her, and ensure that she completes her mission to free humanity.

Olivia Terenzio: Director, SVT Securities Eastern Division. Olivia murdered her father, Matteo Terenzio, in order to rise to a position of power within the company and family. She is cousin to Amadeo Terenzio, her partner-in-crime. Olivia doesn’t believe in freeing humanity and is secretly working with the Brotherhood and Anunnaki to make sure the Ascension never happens.

Amadeo Terenzio: General of the Alcyone Island Military. Amadeo murdered his father in order to rise to a position of power within the military and family. He is cousin to Olivia, his partner-in-crime. Amadeo doesn’t believe in freeing humanity, and is secretly working with the Brotherhood and Anunnaki to make sure the Ascension never happens.

Kayla Terenzio-Medicci: CEO Empire Cruise Lines, a Dion Corporation subsidiary. Step-daughter of Marcello Terenzio, deceased head of the Terenzio family. Kayla is a mind-controlled agent of the Brotherhood, sent to infiltrate the Terenzio family at a young age. Despite her conflicted feelings at times, she has no choice but to do as she is ordered by her masters.

Dominic Terenzio-Fidelio: Retired CEO of the Dion Corporation. Dominic has a few secrets of his own, such as secretly working with the Brotherhood for decades, and will stop at nothing to ensure that the Ascension never happens.

Nicholas Terenzio-Fidelio: Director of the Loyalty Airlines Eastern Sector. Nicholas is a former member of the Brotherhood, now double agent. He turned against the Brotherhood when they let his family die in the attacks on 9/11. Nicholas doesn’t care if the Ascension happens or not, so long as the Brotherhood is destroyed. He also hates his father, Dominic.

Caesar Medicci: Brotherhood Agent. Kayla’s handler. Caesar knows that in a previous life, (aka reincarnation or past lives) he was Roman Moretti, Stefano Terenzio’s greatest enemy. As a result, he hates Vasco. Caesar has infiltrated the Terenzio family as Kayla’s husband. He will stop at nothing to ensure that the Terenzios, especially Vasco, are killed.

Dr. Derek Vaughn III: Director, SVT Think Tank, a Dion Corporation subsidiary. Derek is working with his team to find a mysterious Cave of Creation before the winter solstice. He has a crush on Shirley McDermott, a colleague. Derek and his team are trying to make scientific sense out of a mystical event known as the Ascension.

Dr. Shirley McDermott: Senior Scientist, SVT Think Tank. Shirley is working with Derek and Abe to find a mysterious Cave of Creation before the winter solstice. She is trying to make scientific sense out of a mystical event known as the Ascension. Shirley also secretly has a crush on Derek.

Dr. Abe Donahue: Senior Scientist, SVT Think Tank. Ex-Navy. Abe is working with Derek, and Shirley, to find a mysterious Cave of Creation before the winter solstice. Abe is trying to make scientific sense of a mystical event known as the Ascension, but is very skeptical.

Tony DeMarco II: Works for the Brotherhood, but is a double agent. In past lives Tony has been an ally of the Terenzios. In his current incarnation Tony has infiltrated the Brotherhood to help bring them down. He will do everything in his power to make sure the Terenzios succeed, and the Brotherhood is destroyed.

Alexandro DeMarco II: Director of Homeland Security. Tony’s big brother. In past lives has been an ally of the Terenzios and close, intimate friends of Stefano Terenzio and Stefano’s wife, Cleona. In his current incarnation Alexandro has infiltrated the Brotherhood to help bring them down. He will do everything in his power to make sure the Terenzios succeed, and the Brotherhood is destroyed.

The Brotherhood: 13 human bloodlines that control the world. Also known as the Roshaniya. The Brotherhood worship aliens called the Anunnaki. Together, they keep humanity enslaved in a mundane, thought controlled system, with the illusion of freedom. The Brotherhood will stop at nothing to ensure that the Ascension never happens and that the Terenzios are killed.

Enki: Anunnaki Scientist and Magi. Enki does not agree with his family’s treatment of humanity and wants Earth to be set free. He is secretly working against his brother, Enlil, and the Brotherhood. Through the DeMarcos, Enki provides help to the Terenzios.

Enlil: Military Commander of Planet Earth and the Anunnaki. He is unaware of his brother’s split loyalties. Enki will never release humanity from Anunnaki control, and will prevent the Ascension at all costs.

Previously in Synarchy….

(Dear reader: If you have not read Book 1 I would bypass this section. It was included to refresh the memory of those who have read the first novel.)

Marcello stopped fidgeting, covering his granddaughter’s hand in his own. "I must be brief." It was such a rarity to clearly see emotion rolling through those enigmatic eyes. "My Mari is waiting for me." He paused to take another heavy breath. "You have never been to the vault. I have arranged for the plane to take you."

Lucien Terenzio, the youngest by seconds, stood behind his sister and asked curiously, "The vault? What's in the vault?"

"Wrong question, Lucien," Vasco Terenzio said quietly as he slowly walked to their grandfather’s side. "Why?"

Marcello smiled, unmasking his pleasure with Vasco's question. "When you get there you will know." He dropped his head back against the propped up pillows, raising his eyes to the ceiling. "I almost wish I could live to see it. Well, with these eyes at least."

"See it?" Simone asked.

"The Ascension."

§

"I am Menes."

Shirley and Derek looked up simultaneously, eyes widening. Abe was glowing. A gentle green light surrounded him and the man they had "found."

Menes smiled at the other two and began to speak through Abe. It was easier this way; he had not spoken English in several decades. "A great age is upon you. You are closer to the truth than you have ever been." He hesitated, choosing the words carefully. "I warn you that what you uncover will shock you, anger you, and terrify you. It will also soothe your souls, and you will know come to understanding why the knowledge has been withheld from you. You must find the Cave of Creation before the next winter solstice. It is this final step that will bring man into full consciousness. The Ascension must not fail again." He drew in a shaky breath, his energy wavering. He willed it to stay with him a little longer.

“Loki—you must find him. He will alert the Anunnaki, and they will try to stop you. Those you work for have means to protect you, to help you lift the veil so all will know, as above in heaven, so below on Earth. Do what you will. Love is law."

§

"What…what do we do now?" Abe whispered.

Derek swallowed hard and shook his head. He was at a complete loss. "I don't know."

Shirley turned to both of them. "Call Terenzio. As bizarre as this all is, we've still got work to do. And if Menes is right, we're going to need backup."

§

“And we’re going to finish it,” Olivia said firmly. Terenzios were not Robin Hoods; they never had been. For a century now, they had done as they pleased, and more often than not their actions were in no way honorable. The sudden desire to change didn’t make any sense. Why empower the rest of the world when they could control the slaves? Why become equals when they could sit higher up the ladder? Now that the family had the opportunity to align itself with the Powers That Be and reap the real benefits, Olivia thought, fuck the rest of the world. Marcello had lost his mind. Her plans, along with Amadeo’s, would not be compromised, and they were not the only members of the family who thought that way.

“There’s not going to be anything to finish if we don’t get caught up. You heard the Seer last time we were in Denver; the triplets could pull this off.”

“Stop. They won’t. Period. There will be no Ascension.” Olivia held up her hand to emphasize her words. “Now, I want you to lean on Vic. Find out if Leone has mentioned what his brother is working on. Nicholas tracked the triplets to Madeira but lost them after that. Kayla might know something, I’ll find out. If I don’t hear anything by nightfall I’ll go see Marcello myself.”

Amadeo raised a brow at her. “That’s a serious offense if you’re caught, Olivia.”

She sighed at him. “We are way past that now, don’t you think, cousin?”

He opened his mouth to answer her but was forced into silence by the sudden appearance of a man standing in his doorway. Automatically, his hand went for the gun at his side, but his fingers never touched the metal. Seeing the look on his face, Olivia whirled aro-und, and then gasped softly. Their unexpected visitor had long light blonde hair, with random streaks of white. His eyes were a deep indigo that seemed to pulse with a life all their own. Even odder, in his hand he carried a long golden rod with a crystal on top that radiated in quiet power.

Loki smiled at the shocked expression on their faces. Slowly, he spoke in their language. “Do not be afraid. I will help you stop the Ascension.”

§

It was a lot to swallow all at once; to realize that something you didn’t even believe in might be true. The fact that the memories were in his head so clearly was chewing up at Vasco’s sense of reason. He was positive that if he started searching the shelves he could confirm every event that he’d just felt like he’d lived through a century ago. But did that really prove the existence of past lives?

“Do you really think we reincarnated as those three?” Vasco asked

“The way things are shaping up…” Simone had her own cup of coffee and had sucked down the caffeine boost like it was a shot. “…I don’t know, V. Is it really so strange? Especially in comparison to the Anunnaki? It’s obviously true. You’ve got memories of it, and grandfather sparked the war against them.”

§

“Tell him what we found, Simone,” Lucien said.

“Combined with what we remember…” It was still weird as all hell to say that. “…and the information down here, it’s all falling into place.” She paused as they both sat down at the table, and pulled her hair back into a messy bun. “The Anunnaki and the Brotherhood are about the same as you remember them, Vasco, and, no surprise, they are the ones standing in the way of us allowing the Ascension.”

Vasco figured she would say that. Thirteen bloodlines, all fanatically loyal to their “Gods” and for good reason. Thirteen bloodlines with which, he’d known a lifetime ago, his own family couldn’t afford to war. “Tell me about the Ascension we’re allowing,” Vasco said.

Simone motioned her head at Lucien who picked up his own notepad. It wasn’t nearly as organized as his sister’s, but he could read from it. “You’ll love this. Humans are Gods and Co-Creators of the universe.” He had to shake his head a little every time he read it. It was nuts, but so was lying between two pyramids and remembering your past lives. “I don’t really understand a lot of the details on this, but all that crazy metaphysical talk about multiple dimensions and the universe as a mind, and all being one, it’s all correct. Atlantis was actually a planet once, now it’s the asteroid belt. That’s what happens when a planet goes boom, a destruction we as humans caused because we didn’t ‘ascend’ correctly. Imagine having godly powers, but being an asshole so all you do with those powers are bad things. Quantum Mechanics, whatever that is, proves on a scientific level that intent creates reality.”

Vasco stared hard at his brother. It sounded insane, utterly and completely. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t true. Still it was a lot to handle while still trying to deal with the fact that you’ve lived multiple lifetimes and aliens who could shape shift really did live on the same planet. “Understood, sort of. Keep talking.”

“So, because of this failed experiment, per se, we tried again. Welcome to Earth. According to what’s down here--and I have no idea how the hell we got this information by the way--it’s actually the destruction of Atlantis that knocked the Anunnaki home planet into our solar system. Conditions were set to keep us from accessing our power until the time was right. That is the purpose of the elite and the Anunnaki. So, now the time is right, we’re supposed to be released, and get our knowledge back, but the powers that be are acting like a bunch of stingy bitches. Regardless, it’s going to work this time. So says everything I’ve read. Oh, and end date is December 21st, 2012.”

§

Kayla didn’t understand Marcello Terenzio. He had known she was not his; that she was an enemy, the bastard child of his raped wife, but he looked at her like he loved her anyway. She knew this for certain. He had looked at Demetrius and pictures of Amanda the same way.

“Why? Why would you ask me…?” Kayla whispered the unanswered question into the rain that crashed down around her. The letter Marcello had written her was crumpled up in her closed fist. A father’s last request of his daughter.

Except, she was not his daughter. Never mind that she loved him like the father he wasn’t. She’d never admitted that to him; she didn’t know if she ever would have.

Kayla bent down to set the single red rose on top of the freshly dug wet dirt. Her head bowed, her dark blonde hair soaked and coming loose from the pins that held it back in place. She closed her eyes, fighting a losing battle against emotions she didn’t want to feel. She would disappoint her step-father. Choices weren’t given to things that were owned.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” Kayla whispered. Her cell phone rang. She knew it was Caesar. She flipped it open. “Yes?”

“Get ready to rid the world of your family, baby. I’m on my way home.”

Kayla was not a Terenzio. She was a child of the Project, loyal only to the Brotherhood. “I understand.” Her face hardened and her fingers opened, Marcello’s crumpled letter fluttering into the mud as she walked away.

§

His eyes were not human, though they appeared that way when he wanted them to. Manipulation of the cells in the human body was so ridiculously simple, it was laughable that humankind didn’t know how to shape shift. This news angered him and his eyes flipped, exposing the reptilian irises. “What of the Terenzios?”

“They continue as expected. Our insiders have found an Atlantean, a survivor of Rainbow City. They wish to bring him to us in exchange for full membership into the Brotherhood.”

A serpent-like tongue flicked out of his mouth, darting across his lips. “I’m sure they do. Bring them to me.”

“Yes, sir. What of the other Terenzios?”

“Continue as planned. We will still launch Alternative Three ahead of schedule.” His hand extended, switching erratically from dark green scales to smooth white skin as he pressed the button to end the conversation.

It would be close, but the Brotherhood would not fail. They had held control of this planet for too long just to give it away because the Galactic Federation claimed it was time. Let the vibrations rise. He didn’t care how many of the slaves, “awakened.” Let them think the planet would Ascend. They had tried before. They would fail again.

A sharp knock came at his office door. It took a mere thought to return his eyes and the texture of his hand to their hidden state. “Come in.”

The uniformed officer saluted sharply. “Mr. Vice President, they are ready for you now.”

“We're villains, as much as we are capable of being heroes. When the moments come that we can we soften the blow of our sins, we've got to take them."

-Stefano Vasco Terenzio

Prologue

December 20, 2012- 11:44 PM

Vacherie, Louisiana

Oak Alley Plantation

It came down in thick heavy sheets, bulleting from the sky, drenching the ground that could only absorb so much before it leaked up from the grass, and quickly became the swamp that was so common in the area. The glare of headlights cut through the rain, illuminating the porch of the antebellum mansion that was now empty.

Caesar climbed out of the car, whistling. He snapped open the trunk and stared with vicious glee down at Vasco, whose hands Caesar had taped behind his back. Caesar reached inside and hauled the other man out, half dragging him through the puddles of water, and shoved him in front of the stairs, facing the house. “I thought you‘d want to see it one more time before you died.”

Vasco’s eyes traveled slowly over the elegant, old fashioned structure. It had once been her home, before she—

His jaw hardened. A lifetime ago, he had made love to her against those columns, often after he’d shot a few people out among the centuries-old oaks. For a fleeting moment, his eyes softened at the phantom images.

“You know, she and I had some good times here after you got popped.” Caesar grinned.

Vasco’s eyes narrowed, jealousy and fury coiling hotly in his gut. His fingers fisted around the piece of glass hidden in his palm, and sharp edges cut into the tape and his skin, the blood washing away with the force of the rain.

Caesar turned him around so they were facing each other. “I don’t get you, Vasco.” He took a step back, pulling the gun out from the waistband of his pants. “Why? Out of all of them, I never thought you would choose this.”

The hatred in the depths of Vasco’s eyes was unhidden as he regarded Caesar. It was their destiny to be enemies, their agreement for this lifetime. He was fully committed to honoring that agreement. “Choice, Caesar,” Vasco said over the noise of the storm. “I never made anyone do anything. They always had a choice. You—Them—you take the fun out of the game when you take that choice away. But the better, less noble reason is I just don’t like you. Or your masters. I never have.”

Caesar shook his head. “I’ll never understand you Terenzios. I won’t miss you, either.” The thunder growled, a flash of lighting exposing the malevolent gleam in Caesar‘s eyes as he pressed the muzzle of the gun against Vasco’s temple.

Chapter 1

"Some of the biggest men in the United States…are afraid of something. They know that there is a power somewhere so organized, so subtle, so watchful, so interlocked, so complete, so pervasive, that they had better not speak above their breath when they speak in condemnation of it."

- Woodrow Wilson

Earth Day – June 12, 2012 - Time does not exist here

Babalon

Galactic Federation Headquarters

Unless this Council has forgotten, I am not obligated to follow any of your suggestions.” Enlil, Military Commander of the war-like race called the Anunnaki, dragged his reptilian eyes to travel over every form within the chamber. His nine foot tall body was draped in a shimmering red material that covered his tough, dark green scaly skin. A pair of short, black wings was tucked in against his back, and his head was reptile shaped with a serpent like tongue and razor sharp teeth.

Beyond the Milky Way Galaxy sat Babalon, a great oval ship whose flawless metallic surface gleamed against the backdrop of space. Twelve races had agreed to come together to discuss matters of importance. Many other races existed in the Cosmos, and often visited Babalon but choose not to take part in any formal proceedings. The twelve races had decided to call themselves the Galactic Federation. Lately, the Federation’s topics revolved primarily around the planet Earth.

The twelve representatives from each race sat in a circular chamber, the domed glass ceiling exposing the beauty of space. In the center of the room was a wide black pedestal made from the rock of Jupiter’s moon, Callisto. On top of the pedestal sat a small pyramid carved out of alexandrite, with a glowing cerulean rock forming its capstone. Twelve high-backed quartz crystal chairs circled the pedestal.

“Enlil, you fight against forces you cannot stop,” Thoth warned. On his home planet Sirius, Thoth was known as a Dominous Gnosis, a master of many forms of knowledge. As correctly depicted by the Egyptians that he had taught hieroglyphics to, he was a creature with the body of a human and the head of ibis. He and other Sirians had traveled to Earth in the past to share and expand their knowledge.

“You fight for no reason. Let them go brother,” Archangel Michael said. He, too, closely resembled that of a human except he stretched a good eight feet in height, and his physical form was a perfect harmony of glowing skin and taut, sinewy muscle. His gleaming purple eyes carried a deep wisdom, compassion, and fiery spirit. That spirit became quite apparent when in battle, for his white wings set ablaze when he was called to defend what he and the rest of his race known as Angels believed to be a just cause.

“I cannot believe what I am hearing. The last time it was attempted to bring the full power of creation into form, we lost an entire planet, and my home suffered the repercussions. Now, you seek to try it again? And with man?” As his impatience and agitation grew, Enlil’s forked tongued flicked out of his mouth with greater frequency. “I will not allow it.”

Beside Enlil sat a member of the one race that sided with him. The being had a small, thin body, but a very large, oblong shaped head, with no protruding features. Its eyes were oval shaped, lidless, and pure black. It wore no garments, and sat with its long, thin gray fingers wrapped around the armrest. On Earth they were called Greys. The true name of their race was Zeta. They came from several stars within the Orion constellation. The Zeta did not speak, but nodded on occasion in agreement with Enlil.

“Nibiru is not the home of the Anunnakis,” Thoth said. “You chose to leave, Sirius. If you would calm your war-like ways and find some balance within, the Gnostics would vote for your return. “The Sirians were on a constant quest for knowledge. The Gnostics were their High council, the smartest members of their society and made all the Governing decisions.

“We no longer have any need of your planet of thinkers who take no action, Thoth.” Enlil snapped.

“You cannot prevent it, Enlil.” A soft-spoken voice echoed out gently from the being of blue light that hovered above its seat. It came from the Pleiades and had no form, except when it chose to make one, and that was usually only when it came to Earth. The Pleiadians, as they were called were made of pure light, often of varying colors. “They have raised their vibration to levels that have far surpassed what we expected of them. The Source will not be denied.”

“The Source may choose another planet on which to conduct its science experiments. We will not relinquish our control on Earth.” Enlil slapped his claw like hand on the arm of his chair.

“How do you think you will stop it, Enlil?” Another voice boomed in the chamber. It came from the Draconika. His name was Anataboga, and he was a gigantic winged beast. His long scaly tail was draped over the chair he was entirely too big to fit in. He was stretched out beside his chair, back legs that were much longer than his front legs curled underneath him. One short, three-clawed hand occasionally drummed on the stone floor, and his massive head rested on the other. Every time he spoke, a small cloud of smoke left his jaws.

“A matter I will not discuss with you, Draconika.” Enlil looked over at the huge beast, whose body nearly took up one half of the chamber. “I put faith in no God, but the intelligence and strength of my race. That will prevail.” He rose from his seat and looked pointedly at Michael. “And may I remind this council that any interference with the plans on Earth will be considered an act of war against my race.”

“As you know, Enlil, per our peace treaty, we may assist the humans when they call for us,” Michael said evenly.

“Yes, when they are scared of the dark they have created. But you may not interfere with our plans.” Enlil hissed.

Michael sighed. “I truly wish you would reconsider this course of action, Enlil.”

Ignoring Michael, Enlil waved his hand in a gesture of finality. “Council, this topic is closed. May your travels be safe.” He laced his claws together and gave a short bow. A moment later, his form faded from the room. The Zeta said his good-byes telepathically and disappeared, too.

When Enlil had gone, another Anunnaki emerged from the shadows behind Anataboga’s chair. A cane made from the trees of Earth was held in his leathery palm, and it supported his slow movement. A glowing white robe adorned his frame, coming all the way to the floor and covering his tail. A black sash draped over his shoulders and touched the ground, as well. The sash indicated his rank as the Supreme Commander of the Anunnaki. “He gets his stubborn nature from his mother.” The Council chuckled and Anu, continued. “I apologize for my son’s rudeness. He carries much fear.”

“Do not apologize, Anu,” the Pleiadian said. We understand. It will be a good lesson for him.”

“There is some concern that he may slow things down, though,” Michael said.

“If Enlil succeeds, then he was meant to. I remain an observer to these games, Council. It is Enki, my other son who has chosen to be his brother’s opposition.”

“I agree,” Anataboga said. “This duality will end soon, one way or the other. If the experiment is meant to happen as we believe, then at the time of Galactic Alignment, it will.”

There was a murmur of agreement around the room. Michael sat in silence for a moment, then nodded. “Very well. My people and I will continue to protect them when they call from the darkness that they unknowingly create.”

“We will help as we can, as well,” the Pleiadian said softly.

“I have done all I will do for them,” Thoth said. The other races also agreed to do nothing but observe, for now.

After discussing other mundane matters concerning the galaxies, and the great Interdimensional Traveling Vessel Races, the Galactic Federation adjourned.

§

June 12, 2012 - 10:00 AM

Alcyone Island

Dion Corporation Headquarters

“This arrangement was dependent upon you staying close to Simone.” Dominic Terenzio-Fidelio was perched on the front of his desk. A perfectly tailored silk suit covered his round, Italian frame, and his short, fat fingers were loosely clasped in front of him. Thick eyebrows framed piercing gray eyes that were locked on Victor Russo.

Victor sat in the chair in front of Dominic’s desk, his hands tunneled back through his wavy, brown hair. “I know. Look…” Victor dropped his hands and looked up at Dominic. “I can fix this.”

“She caught you fucking one of her whore friends. You’re lucky she didn’t have the balls to kill you.” Olivia Terenzio sat on the leather couch pressed up against the wall. Above it hung a Van Gough painting that she thought was both ugly and depressing.

“Simone’s not that type of woman.” Victor said impatiently, glancing briefly in Olivia’s direction, then back at Dominic. “I can get her back. I’ll get her to forgive me, okay? I just need a little time.”

“Time is a luxury we don’t have, Victor,” Dominic said, frowning lightly. “The whole point of you marrying her five years ago was so if it got to this point, you’d be in a prime position to feed us information we needed.”

“Or be a real husband and push the bitch in the direction we wanted,” Olivia added before she pressed a long, thin cigarette between her full, red painted lips.

“I get it okay? I get it.” Victor stood up, buttoning the front of his suit jacket. “Just give me a week. I know Simone. She’ll forgive me and we’ll be back on track.”

“You better hope those good looks of yours pays off big time, pretty boy,” Olivia warned while her pale gray eyes took in his tall, athletic build. Victor was a handsome man, with a charming smile and a silver tongue.

“One week, Victor,” Dominic said.

Victor clapped his hands together. “Consider it done, guys and gals.” Flashing them a reassuring smile, he walked out of the office.

“I’m not entirely convinced he can pull that off.” Dominic walked behind his desk, sat down, and began to clean one of his small diamond rings.

“I’m not convinced Kayla is so patient as to give him a week after fucking up like that.” Olivia uncrossed her long, muscular legs, made from running five miles every morning, and stood up. “This whole matter would be a fucking moot point if the Brotherhood would just give the order to have the triplets killed.”

“Patience, Olivia.”

Patience was one thing she was losing the closer they got to the winter solstice and the Brotherhood did nothing about the fucked up side of her family. “Did you tell Them about Loki?” Days ago, a strange man who looked human, but otherworldly, appeared in the house of Amadeo Terenzio, Olivia’s cousin and partner in crime. The stranger had introduced himself as Loki and told them that he would help them stop the Ascension.

“I did. I expect They’ll want you to bring him in soon. They sounded very pleased.”

“Am I going to meet someone in authority or some level of middle management?” Olivia walked up to his desk and used Dominic’s gold ashtray.

Dominic smiled. “If Loki is really an Atlantean, then I’m fairly confident you just might meet Enlil himself.”

Olivia’s eyes flickered with excitement. “Don’t bullshit me.”

“No bullshit. As I keep telling you, cousin, this game is as good as won. The triplets can’t stop us. Our time is almost here.”

§

June 12, 2012 - 9:45 AM

Monte Rio, California

Bohemian Grove

Bohemian Grove was twenty-seven hundred acres of campground. Nestled in a valley surrounded by high stone hills and towering redwoods that were two to five thousand years old, it was easy to hide what went on inside. Once a year, two thousand five hundred men came together to enjoy two weeks with like-minded individuals. Once a year, the true rulers of the world came here to utilize the energy of sacred space for dark purposes, and create reality as they saw fit.

The celebration at Bohemian Grove was so secret the rest of the world could only speculate about what actually went on there, and the majority of the population had never even heard of it. Rich, middle-aged white men drank too much, enjoyed a weekend without a care, and solicited the waiters (mostly men) around the grove like whores when the lights went down. Six out of the thirteen royal heads of the Roshaniya, what conspiracy theorists called The Brotherhood, or Illuminati, attended the Western Event (another was held in Rome at the same time with the other seven) and made policy decisions regarding the future of the world. Usually, when the festival was kicked off with a “human sacrifice” signifying the cremation of care—a ritual explained as nothing more than a theatrical production symbolizing the removal of care for the two week vacation—the body in the bag was a real human. The Roshaniya, as taught by their Gods, the Anunnaki, used human beings like slaves. Humans were fitted into a system of control, bred to work in order to survive, and their true awesome potential was kept cleverly hidden. The news the humans watched controlled them. The papers they read controlled them. The State-run education system controlled them. They were taught that their lives were nothing more than a mundane cycle of work, reproduction, and death. Wars, technology and the duality of human drama ensured they would never question if something more magical existed other than their petty, everyday lives. Even those that questioned never took it a step farther. Those that even came close to the truth were labeled New Age hippies, or paranoid conspiracy theorists, and nobody took them seriously.

It was easy to be cynical when one knew as much as Antonio “Tony” DeMarco II did. But everything was about to change.

Standing in the security booth at the main gate, he pulled the walkie talkie out of his belt, pressing the talk button. “You clean up the Necrophilia room yet, Jimmy?”

There was static before the reply came. “Aw, why the fuck can’t I delegate that assignment to one of the new guys?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Because it don’t look too good for rumors to start about how the Secretary of Defense and a few other Forbes cover CEO’s like fucking women that are already dead. Go clean it up. If you miss garbage incineration, I’ll put you on Hillbilly camp duty.” At the Grove, the two thousand members were divided into different camps, each with their own name. Some were symbolic. Some were just for fun.

Nobody wanted to be assigned to the Hillbilly camp, though. That was the right kind of employee motivation. “Fuck that,” Jimmy said. “I’m on it.”

“You know, it’s not exactly smart of you to discuss the Secretary’s sexual preferences out loud either, amico.”

Tony slipped the walkie talkie back onto his belt, casting a nonchalant glance over his shoulder. “You’re here early, Director DeMarco.”

“I knew you missed me, so I took an earlier flight.” A cigar was held comfortably between Director of Homeland Security Alexandro DeMarco II’s fingers as he lounged in the doorway of the small building. “Such a waste of space, no?” The DeMarco brothers were nearly identical as far as facial features went. They shared striking, wheat-hued eyes that crinkled at the corners when they laughed, and strong jaws. The similarities stopped there. Alexandro had a old-fashioned, very politician-like demeanor, and his thick head of black hair had begun to gray prematurely. Tony was taller, more muscular, and a little rougher around the edges.

“This place? Without question.”

“Mhm.” Alex brought the cigar to his mouth, pulling in the heavily scented smoke, and rolled the flavor of it around his tongue. “Let’s take a drive.”

“Sure.” Tony followed him out, walking over to the golf cart that carted the suits around the acres of the camp ground.

“You have it on you?” Alex asked.

“Always.” Tony slipped his sunglasses on, climbing into the driver’s seat. “Get in.”

Alex nodded and climbed into the passenger side of the vehicle. Tony reached into the front pocket of his uniformed shirt, removing what appeared to be just a stick of gum. When he bit down into it, a signal was thrown out that blocked the sound of their conversation to those who might be listening. Unless they were two feet away and in which case could be seen, they would hear nothing but nature.

“So what’s up, big brother?”

Since the early 1920’s, the DeMarco Crime Family controlled New Orleans, Baton Rouge and the surrounding areas. They had aligned themselves with the Terenzios, and Alexandro DeMarco Senior had been a close friend of both Stefano Terenzio and his wife. Alexandro I had slickly made his way into politics, despite the rumors that his brother, Antonio DeMarco I, was the boss of the crime family. It was the first Alexandro’s stellar political career that inserted the DeMarcos into the inside position they had today. Alexandro I’s son, Matthew, had kept the partnership with the Terenzios alive, and secret, ensuring that both of his sons, who Matthew smartly named as the men from whom they reincarnated, were ready to finish what they had started.

“Marcello has passed,” Alex said.

“Sucks. Tell me more.”

Alex sighed, shaking his head. “You could at least have a little respect for the dead.”

“Look, I didn’t know him in this life, or my last seven. Aside from the sympathy I’ve been programmed to have for the natural occurrence which is death—which nobody really minds by the way, they just think they do—my ‘sucks’ is a little bit more than is needed, all right?”

“But you did know his father.”

“Everybody knew his father.”

“He’s back.”

Tony pulled his eyes from the dirt road that cut between the towering redwoods to shoot a sideways glance at his brother. “No shit?”

“He’s not alone.”

“Whole crew?”

“All but Carissa. But I think she’s already moved into different form, probably somewhere in the Pleiades.” Alex smiled, sticking the cigar back between his teeth.

“The universe really isn’t fucking around this time.”

“Well, there is some importance to the third dimension.” Alex paused to puff lightly on his cigar, and then continued: “They reincarnated as the Triplets. I want you to meet with them. Give them the next round of information.”

Tony glanced over at his brother. “Xavier can’t do it?”

“I need him on a different assignment right now. Plus, we need to keep his involvement in all this as hidden as ours.”

“All right. What do I need to tell them about?”

Alex reached into his pocket and removed a USB. He handed it to his brother. “It’s all on there. They are on their way to Virginia, now.”

Tony took the drive and dropped it into the front pocket on his shirt. “I’ve got to finish up here first, and then I’ll take care of it.”

“Grazie.”

“No problem. Does Stefano’s wife know he’s back in form?”

Alex paused. His brother was right about death, but there was an old soul that had left form on Earth. Her physical presence was missed. “She did.”

Tony gave that revelation a moment of silence. “Now her, I’m going to miss.”

“Me, too, amico. Me, too.”

“I’m telling Mona.”

“Do it…” Alex leaned back almost lazily in the shuttle, sticking one foot up onto the dashboard. “…and I’ll tell her you were her slave a thousand years ago.”

Tony made a face, letting loose an exaggerated shudder. “You’re a bastard for even bringing that up.”

Alexandro laughed, grinning around the cigar between his lips.

“Speaking of the bitch—I mean your wife…” The bitch remark earned him a solid punch to the shoulder from his brother. “She coming up for the festivities?”

“As if she’d let me shoot anyone without her.”

“Good point.”

“Where are you headed next?”

“To see the Brotherhood of Light.”

“What a stupid name.”

Alex chuckled. “I agree. I doubt they call themselves that.”

“Why do you get to go see them? Why can’t I do that, and you go prep the triplets.”

“Proof positive, mi amico, that you will never be as cool as I am.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “You and your wife deserve each other. You both live in the same world of self-delusion.”

Chapter 2

“The difficulty lies, not in the new ideas, but in escaping from the old ones.”

-John Maynard Keynes

June 12, 2012 - 9:00 AM

Alexandria, VA

S.V.T. Think Tank

They’re on their way? Sure, of course. We’ll be ready.” Dr. Derek Vaughn III hung up the phone just as Dr. Shirley McDermott walked into his office. Derek, who had a crush on Shirley, smiled instinctively.

“What are we getting ready for?” Shirley asked before she lifted her hand to cover her yawn.

“The new Presidents of Dion Corp,” Derek said, standing up and stretching. His glasses sat atop a thin nose and covered golden brown eyes. His short, brown hair was graying at the sides and still a little damp from his recent shower. “Sleep okay?”

Shirley nodded. “As soon as I hit the pillow, I was out like a rock.” She pulled one of three pens from the front of her white lab coat and pinned her fiery red hair atop her head. She eyed him speculatively. “Did you sleep?”

Derek smiled. “Probably as good as you did.”

“I brought coffee since I’m not ready to swallow the shitty stuff Derek makes.” Dr. Abe Donahue came strolling into the office with a tray that housed three Dunkin Donuts styrofoam cups.

“You love my coffee and you know it,” Derek teased, reaching out to take the offered cup.

“I’ve tasted better shit on a Navy Sub, and that’s saying something.” Abe had done a brief stint in the Navy before he’d given over to his braniac potential. He looked like it, too; his build was lean and muscular, and he kept his black hair cropped close to his scalp. He disliked shaving, though, and a thick beard covered his cheeks.

“Before we go jump into the Orgone machine, has anyone ever heard of the term Theophany?” Shirley asked, cradling the warm cup of coffee between her palms.

Both Derek and Abe shook their heads. “What is it?” Derek asked.

“It refers to the appearance of a God to a human, usually for the purpose of some sort of divine disclosure. Before I went to bed last night, since I had aliens and the Anunnaki on the brain, I did a search on alien abductions.”

“You know, it’s a little early to send my world into another flat spin,” Abe muttered. Six days ago, Abe and Shirley, five miles underneath the Antarctic Ocean, found a man floating to the surface, carrying a golden rod with a crystal on the top that was emanating some type of force field. Menes, as the man had called himself, had given them a dire message about finding the Cave of Creation before the winter solstice and using their employer, the Terenzios, to protect them from the Anunnaki a race that apparently had enslaved mankind. Derek, the Director of SVT Think Tank, had sent a second team to Piedras Negras to search for this mysterious Cave. They believed they had found it underneath ancient Mayan ruins.

Shirley laughed. “It’s not that bad, I promise, just interesting. The term is also used in reference to some alien abductions, because abductees have claimed that they have had profound mystical experiences, accompanied by a feeling of oneness with God or the Universe during their visits with the aliens.”

“Huh.” Derek looked thoughtful. “More proof to support the Ascension?” The Ascension was a worldwide spiritual event that dealt with the power of consciousness and a connection to some divine source. What little evidence there was to support it indicated that it was already occurring, but would reach some as of yet unidentified zenith on December 21st, 2012; unless they didn’t find the Cave of Creation in time. And they still didn’t know what the Cave of Creation actually was.

“Maybe. I just thought it comforting to know that all aliens who have apparently contacted us are not evil,” Shirley said.

Abe eyeballed his co-workers. “Would you like me to make you two your own tin foil hats?”

Derek chuckled, and Shirley looked over at Abe in amusement. “After everything we’ve been through—the dreams that started this, Menes, and all the evidence based in science that talks about the power of your mind—I remained shocked you still sound so skeptical.”

“I know, I know.” Abe sighed. “But look, here’s what we know.” He started ticking off points on his finger around his coffee cup. “We’ve got a dead guy whose DNA is impossible, but only because I think he’s a different species. The reason he was able to float up like he was, was that crystal, and I haven’t figured out the way it works, yet. Doesn’t make it mystical. And all your evidence about the power of consciousness is a science still in its baby stages, okay? And I’m not even going to touch aliens on Earth, for obvious reasons. Plus, I think I might have a nervous breakdown after I find out all this is true, so you just leave the skeptic alone, missy.” Abe gave her a wry smile.

“How about we go run some mystical tests of our own,” Derek said, walking past them and down the twisting staircase to the main lab rooms, as Shirley and Abe followed.

“If this Orgone Accumulator blows you up, or turns you into a fly, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Abe said.

“Orgone is perfectly safe, and you know it, silly.” Shirley gave Abe’s shoulder a playful shove. “Whether or not it will work is the real question.” Before Marcello Terenzio died, he sent his scientists an Orgone Accumulator, along with a letter that encouraged them to use it. Orgone was a term coined by psychoanalyst Whilem Reich, who claimed that Orgone, also called chi or life force energy, was everywhere and could be harnessed to help patients heal energy blocks in the biological system that led to illness. The Orgone Accumulator that sat in the lab was a six-sided box made up of organic and metallic materials.

“I guess I’ll go first,” Derek said, eyeing the machine. “You two monitor my neurological activity.”

“Might as well monitor everything while you’re in there,” Abe suggested as he walked over to a cabinet to get the equipment they would need.

“Think it will work?” Shirley asked as she walked over to the row of computers and turned three of them on.

“I’ve never been big on conspiracy theories, but I don’t see why the FDA went to such extreme lengths to stop Reich’s research, so it just might.” Derek took a final, quick sip from his coffee cup, then set it down and unbuttoned his shirt.

Shirley glanced up as Derek opened his shirt and caught herself starring. She ducked her head down, hopefully controlling the blush she thought was creeping into her cheeks. “What your password, Abe?”

“USS Scorpion 589. Spell the first and third S with a dollar sign,” Abe said as he walked over to Derek. He placed small white sensors over Derek’s torso. The device Abe put on Derek’s forehead resembled a headband, all black and a lot thinner. Abe pressed an unseen button in the back and a dull blue light illuminated Derek’s head.

“This is your prototype, isn’t it?” Derek asked, pointing to the device Abe had just put around his head.

“Yup. And a lot more effective and convenient than an fMRI.” Abe slapped him on the shoulder. “You’re all set. Go have a kundalini what-the-fuck-ever experience.”

“Thanks.” Derek opened the door to the accumulator. “How long should I stay in here?”

“Reich’s instructions strictly say, no more than thirty minutes at a time,” Shirley said.

“Got it. And I’m supposed to breathe slow and deep, and try to still my mind, right?” Derek stepped inside.

Shirley nodded. “From what Grams has told me.” Grams was Dr. Angela Knoxx, Shirley’s grandmother and another scientist on their team. Despite her background in science Knoxx was a complete New Ager. “Attempt to visualize each of your chakras opening up and spinning.”

“I can’t believe we’re wasting Think Tank hours on this.” Abe shook his head as he sat down at the computer next to Shirley.

“Right. Visualize. See you in half an hour.” Derek pulled the door closed.

“Are you going to think he’s cuter if he comes out all Buddha-like?” Abe asked, looking up at Shirley with a barely suppressed grin.

There was no stopping Shirley’s blush this time. “I hope you get abducted by aliens.”

Abe burst into laughter. “Great, now I’m going to get beamed up to some spaceship that’s part of some Galactic Federation.”

Shirley barely stifled a giggle. “Stranger things have happened.”

Abe snorted. “Yeah, maybe to you.”

§

June 12, 2012 - 9:44 AM

Alexandria, VA

S.V.T. Think Tank

“How many other things do we have that we don’t know about it? Or are we fully up to speed now?” Lucien Terenzio asked as he climbed out of the car, looking around. The SVT Think Tank complex was gated off, a steel and glass building partially hidden by the array of tulip trees scattered across the well-tended lawn. Off the parking lot, a family of ducks played in the small man-made pond, and park benches for employee breaks littered the area.

“Combine your memories with current knowledge, and we should all be fully up to speed.” Vasco Terenzio, the oldest by seconds, tucked his hands comfortably into his pants pockets and walked up to the building’s doors.

“I have to say, your family is very adept at keeping secrets,” Caleb Kincade said as he closed the car door then and followed along behind them.

“Is any one surprised Stefano’s son managed to carry on the intrigue?” Simone Terenzio-Russo sounded amused as she followed her brothers into the building.

Derek was standing in the lobby, waiting for them. He had just finished in the Accumulator when the call came in that the triplets were a few minutes away. He hadn’t had a chance yet to go over the results of his meditation session with Abe and Shirley, but that could wait until later. When the triplets walked into the lobby, Derek smiled warmly and walked over to greet them.

Lucien made the last introduction. “Derek, this is our shadow, Caleb Kincade.”

Caleb stepped forward and shook Derek’s hand. “Mr. Vaughn, I’m told that your level is the most secure in the building. After I’ve seen the Terenzios there, I’ll need access to your security center, full clearance, and cooperation from your personnel.”

Simone studied Caleb as he gave orders to Derek. Since climbing out of the Holon that had provided she and her brothers with their past life memories, little things reminded her constantly of Kyle Zhane, a husband from a time not so long ago. Caleb was becoming one of them. His tone, his mannerisms, were almost General-like, and they stirred up fond memories of a man that she had deeply, deeply loved. That was the past, though, and Caleb wasn’t Kyle; not that it would matter if he were. Shaking herself back into the present, Simone followed Derek and her brothers.

“Not a problem, Mr. Kincade.” Derek looked both tired and excited as he led them over to the elevators. Inside, he swiped his access card on the panel and leaned forward for the retinal scan. Once his identity was confirmed, he pressed the button for his floor.

“So, what kind of cool projects are we working on?” Lucien asked.

“Too many to list.” Derek chuckled. “Level two is robotics and weapons. Really cool stuff. Level three is split between our security center and the bio weapons division. Level four, where we’re going, is mine.”

“And what do you primarily work on, on your level?” Simone asked.

“We sit around and think of cool stuff for the other two levels to work on.” Derek smiled.

“I want a light saber,” Lucien said.

Derek chuckled. “Me, too. You say the word, Mr. President, and we’ll start working on it.”

“Is this how we’ll be using our presidential power?” Amusement flickered through Simone’s eyes.

“He gets no say in what goes on at the Think Tank,” Vasco said, straight-faced.

“Haters. Both of you.” Lucien eyeballed his siblings.

The elevator doors dinged open, and Derek led the way. Two main lab rooms sat in the middle of the fourth level, with a smaller conference room sandwiched between them. The senior scientists’ offices were on the second floor, accessible by a spiral staircase. Abe and Shirley sat in the lab room where they had brought Menes days earlier. Derek led the triplets into the lab, and while introductions were made again, Caleb prowled the area, checking the exits. Seemingly satisfied the triplets would be fine without him for a few moments, he excused himself and took the stairs down to the security center.

“And this is—was—Menes.” Derek took them over to the cryogenic tank that was slightly bigger than a coffin, sitting up against one wall. Derek flipped a switch and turned on the light, illuminating the deceased man floating in liquid nitrogen.

There was a mixture of subtle, surprised reactions on the triplet’s faces. Menes looked otherworldly, even in death.

“Have you performed an autopsy?” Vasco looked over at the scientists.

Abe nodded. “Aside from his DNA, he’s just like us. He had the healthiest internal organs I’ve ever seen. The anomaly is that he has three strands of DNA instead of two, and I cannot determine how that works. It’s pretty crazy.”

“Is that even supposed to be able to happen?” Lucien rubbed the back of his neck, glancing at Abe.

“No. Our cells shouldn’t even be able to handle it. But Menes’ body is a little more evolved than ours,” Abe said.

“Have you figured out how that works?” Simone asked, pointing to the golden rod with the crystal attached to the top.

Derek shook his head. “No. But, we do know that Crystals can focus, amplify, transform, transmit and store energy. Marc Vogel, a pioneer in this science, among other things, called it FATTs.”

Simone blinked, staring down at the rod. “Crystals do that?”

“Sure do. You don’t realize it, but you use crystals in your computers, your LCD screens, clocks, all kinds of devices,” Derek explained. “The science of actually storing information or energy—like a battery, for example—directly inside a crystal is still in its baby stages. In 1994, though, Stanford University scientists proved it could be done when they stored the image of the Mona Lisa inside a quartz crystal, and then retrieved it. That equaled about 163 KB of data. Not a lot. We tried to measure the energy in this thing—” Derek motioned at the rod. “—using a very complex device called an Omega 5, and we’ve determined that this crystal holds a crazy amount of energy. In terms you can understand, probably millions of terabytes of data.”

Lucien whistled. “That’s a lot.”

“It’s defiantly a power source, and that’s how it was able to put that force field around Menes, but I have no idea what the mechanics of that are. It’s beyond our science.” Derek looked a little awed. “We could detach the crystal from the rod and do more tests, if you want.”

“Don’t,” Vasco said. “Not yet, anyway. What have you found in regards to evidence about the Ascension?”

“Conscious Evolution might be a better term for it,” Shirley said.

Lucien scratched the back of his head. “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s that?”

“Ascension implies that humans are going to leave their physical bodies and transform into some ethereal state. I don’t think that’s going to be the case. It’s our consciousness that is ascending or, more accurately, evolving.”

Vasco arched a brow. “Meaning?”

“Einstein stated that the same consciousness that created a problem cannot be the same consciousness to fix it. We can all agree that humanity is sitting in front of a very profound crossroad, and we may very well be on the brink of destroying our planet. Faced with this challenge, and remembering Einstein’s words, the only logical conclusion would be to change our consciousness. Evolve.” Shirley grabbed a stylus and touched it to the large LCD screen, bringing up bar graphed data. “Admittedly, the science is still in its infant stages, but there are some amazing experiments being done that show the power of our minds, and our ability to create or manifest the things that happen in our lives.”

“I got you. The whole, we affect our reality, and the internal creates the external stuff,” Lucien said.

Shirley smiled. “Exactly.”

Simone walked behind Shirley’s chair, looking at the LCD screen. “Are there any scientific examples?”

Shirley nodded, “A few. The Global Consciousness Project is an international group that attempts to measure the power of consciousness interacting with random event generators. Their data is fascinating. For example, they saw activity four hours before 9/11 which leads to speculation that on some level, we knew it was going to happen. They’ve found the same happens right before an earthquake, or other natural disasters.” Dragging the pen over the screen, Shirley moved one graph aside and brought forward another. “Lynn McTaggart is another researcher who has used large groups of people to conduct what she calls ‘intention’ experiments. They’ve managed to change the pH levels of water, just by thinking about it.”

“McTaggart is an ex-journalist, not a scientist and the Global Consciousness data isn’t as conclusive as they make it sound.” Abe shook his head. “Like Shirley said, all the science is in its infancy and in my opinion, unreliable.”

Lucien grinned faintly down at Abe. “Aw, you kinda remind me of Vasco before we could get him to believe in past lives.”

Abe blinked. “Say, what?”

“I’ve heard talk about a Galactic Alignment, what is that specifically?” Simone interrupted.

“You remember your past lives?” Shirley’s eyes widened over at Vasco, who shrugged at her. “That’s amazing.” Shirley mulled over the concept of reincarnation, then looked over her shoulder at Simone. “It occurs once every 25,800 years. The Sun, and Earth will line up in the center of the Milky Way at the exact moment of our winter solstice. Astronomers who have studied the Galactic Center report that periodically, for reasons unknown, it spits out extreme barrages of cosmic energy.”

“Which is good, bad, we don’t know?” Lucien looked between the scientists.

“We don’t know,” Abe said.

“It has been theorized by a lot of researchers such as Sergey Smelyakov, that as the Galactic center spits out this energy, it is catalyzing our evolution by means of higher dimensional torsion waves. They travel to Earth through the Sun. In a few months, we’ll be in line to get them directly,” Shirley said.

“I think my brain just exploded.” Lucien chuckled.

“We’ve felt the same way the last few weeks, Lucien,” Derek said.

Abe rolled his eyes. “Okay, again, more unproven theories. The only thing scientists are certain of is that Earth’s magnetic field is at the lowest it’s ever been. That sort of decline only happens when the magnetic poles are reversing. At this point, there’s no denying it. They’re going to flip,” Abe said.

“And what happens to humans when the poles flip?” Lucien asked.

Abe shrugged. “Probably nothing. Animals that rely on the magnetic field for direction might get a little turned around. Electronics may be affected.”

“The issue is the combination of the magnetic field being weak and the influx of solar storms that are supposed to peak by the end of the year,” Shirley added.

“What’s a solar storm?” Simone asked.

“Think of it as a big blast of radiation and energy being hurled at the earth. The Earth’s magnetic field protects us when the Sun has its hiccups. At the end of this year the storms are going to hit maximum, and the magnetic field is weak. That has the potential to affect the Global Satellite Communications network. Transformers could get fried, and that means worldwide power outages that could take years to fix. Commercial airliners would have to be grounded, things of that nature,” Derek said.

Lucien whistled low. “No wonder all the doomsayers are having a field day.”

“Could the peak of solar storms be caused by all this, what did you call it?” Simone glanced at Shirley. “Torsion something?”

“Torsion waves?” Shirley nodded. “That’s a possible theory. Another interesting point about the magnetic fields is that there are studies, which even Mr. Skeptic can’t argue with, that point to a direct correlation between our consciousness and earth’s magnetic field.”

“And before she takes it to the New Age place,” Abe shot Shirley a heatless glare, “studies have shown that where earth’s magnetic field is low, change happens faster. Take California for example. Where the magnetic field is high, change happens much slower. IE the bible belt.”

“You could theorize then, that when the poles reverse, we could be wiping our plates clean. The patterns in the field will be released during the reversal, which could leave our consciousness open to, well…” Derek shrugged. “Whatever.”

“Exactly,” Shirley shot Derek a quick smile. “Add to that what could happen when we line up with the Galactic Center.”

“We could get completely reprogrammed.” Lucien interrupted, his brows furrowing. “But with what?”

“That’s the million dollar question,” Abe said, lacing his fingers together behind his head.

Simone rubbed her temples. All this scientific terminology made her want a drink. “Well, we’ll find out soon enough won’t we?”

“What about your team in Piedras Negras?” Vasco asked Derek.

“They’ve found something underneath the site. After we spoke with you all, we were going to join them and see about going in,” Derek said.

Vasco clucked his tongue. “Pull your team back.”

Derek blinked in surprise. Shirley and Abe shared his expression. “Sir?”

“Pull your team back for the moment, Derek. Send them to the nearest town and have them wait for further instructions,” Vasco said.

Derek frowned. “May I ask why?”

“Because if you’re right, and you have found the Cave of Creation, the Anunnaki are not going to let you get near it. And we’re not ready for that move, yet. I’ve got something else for you to work on, in the meantime.”

“Wait, how do you know about the Anunnaki?” Shirley traded glances between the three Terenzios.

“We are the all-knowing.” Lucien winked.

“We wouldn’t be very good protectors if we didn’t.” Simone smiled

Abe groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. “It’s true isn’t? It’s all true. I’m going to have to stop eating red meat and go to stupid yoga classes.”

His complaint brought light chuckles from everyone but Vasco, who continued looking at Derek. “Have you ever heard of Nicholas Tesla?”

Derek nodded. “Of course.”

“Later this afternoon, Robert will be here. He’s bringing a semi-functional prototype of one of Tesla’s designs. I need you to build six of them, and you have a little less than six months to get them fully functional.”

Nicholas Tesla was a genius way ahead of his time. That the Terenzios had gotten their hands on one of his blueprints and were giving them the task to build one of his prototypes fueled the excitement in Derek’s eyes. “Yes, sir.”

“Utilize your other team as you need on this. When we’re ready for you to go in, you’ll have support and protection.” Vasco held out his hand.

Derek shook it. “You got it.”

§

June 12, 2012 - 11:21 AM

Alexandria, VA

Commonwealth Avenue

To get from downtown Alexandria to Commonwealth Avenue was a twenty minute drive. Caleb navigated the tinted window SUV down the quaint, tree-lined streets to the two hundred block. Their destination was a large house sitting on the corner. An old chain link fence surrounded the property, and a massive oak tree dominated the front yard. Roses in full bloom wound their way around the front gate. Caleb pulled the car into the driveway and stopped in front of the closed garage door. “Don’t get out.”

“I have this great mental image of us walking somewhere, or doing something before Caleb tells us it’s okay, and getting bum rushed by him.” Lucien grinned from the back seat.

Caleb looked at them in the rearview mirror. The humor in his eyes was hidden by his sunglasses. “If you see me running at you, do me a favor and help out by hitting the ground.”

“I don’t know if I’m the duck and cover kind of girl. I think I’d want to shoot back,” Simone mused.

“That’s the Liliana in you talking.” Lucien chuckled.

“If I’m running at you, just duck. We’ll get around to the shooting afterwards.” The garage door slowly opened. Caleb pulled the SUV inside. Once the door closed, he turned off the engine. “Now, you can get out.”

Simone climbed out of the car first, just as her cell phone vibrated. She glanced down at the caller ID, and her eyes hardened.

Vasco caught her expression. “Victor?”

“Yes.” She glared at the phone as if Victor could see it.

“C’mon, let me put a hit out on him. Divorce takes too long, and we’ve got plenty of bored assassins on the payroll,” Lucien said in all seriousness.

“Are you expecting any important calls today?” Caleb asked quietly.

Simone paused, then shook her head. “No.”

Caleb walked up to her, took her phone, and pressed the button to answer the call. “Mr. Russo, Simone, will be unavailable for the rest of the day. She’ll call you at her earliest convenience.”

“Who the hell is this?” Victor demanded.

“Miss Terenzio asks that you don’t call again. If you choose to continue this harassment she’ll be forced to exercise her Presidential powers. You don’t want that Mr. Russo. She’ll be in touch.” Caleb ended the call without giving Victor a chance to respond, and turned the phone off.

Simone’s lips twitched. “My hero.”

It took a lot of self-control for Caleb not to let Simone notice how that simple statement affected him. A lifetime ago, she had called him a big hero all the time. “The thousand messages he’s going to leave you, I can’t do anything about. Your brother’s idea is solid, though.”

Simone’s smiled faintly. “Thank you.”

Caleb walked over to the door that led into the house, knocking three times before he pushed it open. The intense set of his blue eyes stayed on Simone, though, even as he pushed open the door. “Anytime.”

Vasco watched the interaction between his sister and Caleb. Behind the natural veil of steel that hid his emotions, fond amusement lived. They would have been good for each other this lifetime, too. He would allow them a small taste of that soon, but not yet.

Inside the house, Tony DeMarco was waiting. When the triplets filed in, hugs were given and introductions were made.

“You DeMarcos are pretty slick, staying so close to the inside all these years,” Lucien said as he took a seat at the dining room table.

“Bet your ass we are. You Terenzios aren’t the only ones who can hustle people,” Tony said, turning his laptop around to face the triplets.

“Your place?” Simone asked idly, admiring the huge china cabinet that dominated one wall of the small dining room. Across from it was a row of bay windows. The entire house had a very elegant, old feel to it, as if nothing much had been changed over its decades of existence.

“No. It was actually owned by the grandmother of a famous writer. When I need a really obscure spot for something, she lets me use it,” Tony said.

“What have you got for us, Tony?” Vasco asked, pulling out one of the high-backed chairs and lowering himself into it.

“A lot, and not a lot of time. But first, I think a li’l history lesson would be pretty prudent. I doubt even you were told this much by the Anunnaki when you were working with them in your last lifetime, Vasco.” Tony looked at the eldest.

Vasco shook his head. “As far as their history on this planet, no, they didn’t tell me much. But, I didn’t particularly care at the time either.”

“Figures. All right, look, a few millennia ago…”

Chapter 3

“Nothing can be more contemptible than to suppose Public Records to be true.”

-William Blake

Before The 2nd Great Flood – Time does not exist yet

E.Den Medical Facility

Mt. Sahand

The floors glowed underneath the weight of his steps. His large, white wings were tucked in against his back, but easily visible over the deep purple robe that covered his muscled, flawless skin. His long black hair flowed over his shoulders. He passed through the lab’s doors instead of opening them, his movement causing what looked like solid steel to ripple like water.

The entire complex was a flurry of activity, but in this lab, the organized chaos ceased. The lights were bright, but not obtrusive on their sensitive eyes. Stainless steel surfaces gleamed. Pyramid-shaped crystals sat on each table, along with rows of test tubes. At the longest table, in the center of the room, an Anunnaki stood in front of an LCD screen, a long green finger sliding with expert familiarity over the touch screen.

“Noah is on the way,” Lucifer said to Enki.

Noah was Enki’s most trusted, most loyal, and most intelligent creation out of the thousands. A short time ago, the explosion of the planet Atlantis damaged the atmosphere of the Anunnaki’s home, Nibiru, and knocked it into a much longer orbital path around the sun. In order to sustain life on their planet, the Anunnaki had to find more gold in order to create a reflective shield. The great ship Babel, which looked like two massive towers connected by a walkway through their center, had been dispatched to find a planet nearby that could provide plenty of the natural resource that was scarce on Nibiru.

They had found an abundance of those resources on a planet the Anunnaki called Terra. When they had landed, they had discovered the planet mostly uninhabited, expect for a very primitive version of what they had named Man. The Supreme Anunnaki Council had decided that they would task their geneticists with turning Man into a capable worker who could mine the gold for them.

It had worked. They created them by the thousands, and after the initial bugs were worked out, gave them their own ability to reproduce. While the more war-like and dictatorial members of the Anunnaki had taken control of the planet’s activities, the geneticists had been fascinated by the many life forms on the planet. They had dabbled and created many, many others. The varied DNA of Man, some giants as tall as the Anunnaki, others dark skinned, were all in the test tubes that surrounded Enki.

But Man was given limitations in their knowledge. It was important to the ruling class of the Anunnaki that the many slaves never realize that they, too, had the capacity to be like what they had come to call their Gods.

Enki turned and nodded at Lucifer, a friend who looked so different than himself. Lucifer was an Angel. Enki, like the others of his race, was tall, with small black wings. His skin was dark green, and leather-like. His hands were more like claws, though their razor sharp points only extended in battle. His reptilian eyes were expressive, but penetrating, and his serpent-like tongue often tickled his lips as he spoke. “You are sure there is a greater plan at work here?”

“Yes. I have felt it in my own connection with the Source. When the flood waters clear away what has been broken, Terra will be known as Earth, and the experiment to bring spirit down into form with all the powers of creation will begin again.”

“The Atlanteans attempted such a thing, and they destroyed their planet. Their race would be extinct if not for the small group that escaped and is scattered across the sands of Mars.”

“It is suspected that some are on Terra as well, but no matter. Limitations are being set forth for the new souls that will inhabit the vessels we have created. For example, upon arrival into physicality, they will forget from whence they came.”

Enki tapped his clawed fingers against his chin. “Your race experienced the same disconnection and look how you began.”

Lucifer smiled. “A good point, but they are not us. It’s necessary until the energy of the planet is high enough that creation comes through love and not fear,” Lucifer said. “We will play the roles of villains, for a time.”

“My family is villains.”

“No.” Lucifer stepped forward. “Simply misguided. They will come to understand, too, but for now, their control over what they call the Brotherhood will help ensure that humans do not ascend until they are ready.”

“I hope you are right. No life should be treated as we treat them.” Enki opened a large chest and waved his hand, guiding the test tubes to float into it and slide into their marked places

“I have absolute faith in the great universal intelligence that speaks through us all, when we can listen. And if that is the plan, then it is a good plan.” He patted Enki on the shoulder, and then turned. “I will not see you again for quite some time, I’m afraid.”

“I will miss our conversations, Lucifer.”

“So will I. We will have them again, when this grand experiment is done.”

“I look forward to it. May I call upon you in my times of questions?”

“As always, brother. Namaste.” Lucifer bowed to Enki before he made the door slide open this time. A young man stood in front of him, pale and dirty from his work within the mines. The human clasped his hands together, and bowed low to Lucifer when he saw him.

“Grand Master Magi,” Noah whispered reverently.

Lucifer’s eyes were kind as he ruffled Noah’s dirty hair and continued on his way.

Enki turned as Noah appeared and motioned him closer. “My best student. I am going to task you with a burden that is far greater than any labor, or strike of the whip. But I trust no other to do it.”

Once more, the young human bowed. “How may I serve you, great God?”

Enki sighed at the term. All were Gods in a sense, because all came from the Source. All had the ability to do such amazing things. The power of creation was given at birth; its use must simply be learned. “A great flood is coming, and it will kill many of your kind. Your family will be spared. I have built you a great ship that will sustain you, and within that ship you must guard these.” He motioned at the chest and the test tubes contained within. “When the waters recede, you will receive a sign. Then, you will follow my instruction to the letter, and spread these different life forms across the whole of your planet. Do you understand?”

Noah slowly nodded. “I will do you ask.”

§

June 12, 2012 - 11:44 AM

Alexandria, VA

Commonwealth Avenue

“Time out. Are you telling me I’ve been created by some alien race?” Lucien stared at Tony.

A smirk cornered Tony’s lips. “Kinda. Enki and his geneticists tinkered with Neanderthals and made Homo Sapiens Sapiens, aka Cro-Magnon. Neanderthals had the perfect body build to do the mining, but were a little too primitive to work as efficiently as the Anunnaki wanted. Without the rest of the Anunnaki knowing, Enki also created our current version, Homo Sapiens. And would you rather believe you came from a monkey?”

Vasco glanced at his brother. “He has a point. But if Enki’s brother believed that the flood was to wipe out humans entirely, how did Enki get away with continuing the species?”

“Anu, their father, was a little smarter and more in touch with the Source than anyone gave him credit for. Certain things were kept from the Anunnaki Supreme Council. When the Anunnaki returned to Earth, a few thousand Earth years had passed and civilizations were flourishing. Instead of trying to wipe them all out again, they agreed to start interfering.”

“And the thirteen bloodlines were created from…?” Simone asked.

Tony glanced over at her. “There were about twenty human civilizations alive on the Earth when the Anunnaki came back. The Anunnaki visited each one, and pretty much demanded obedience or threatened extinction. Some of the first wars fought on this planet were between the races of man that chose to side with the Anunnaki and those that didn’t. Enki liked helping the side that told the Anunnaki to go fuck themselves, and nuclear weapons of a sort were used. That’s what the abnormal radiation levels in the Black Sea are from. ”

“I have a hard time wrapping my mind around Lucifer being this benevolent alien.” Simone’s lips twisted wryly.

Tony chuckled. “Weird, I know. But the worship of Lucifer is a lot different than the worship of Satan. At the end of the day, it’s all a fuckin’ PR scam. All Freemasons, once you get into the higher degrees, become Illuminati, a.k.a enlightened. If you ask them, they’ll tell you it’s Christian but that’s a load of B.S. They worship Luciferian ideals, and the heart of that lesson is all the metaphysical shit about the power of consciousness. “

“No wonder they’ve stayed in power so long. They’re the only ones around controlling reality,” Lucien mused, scratching his cheek. “What a con.”

“Yeah, it is,” Tony agreed. “And we’re about to bust it wide open.”

“Last question: what’s a Leumerian Crystal?” Lucien asked.

“Decent question. Leumeria was the first civilization on Earth, and I’m told the first Ascension experiment.”

“Atlantis wasn’t the first one?” Simone quirked a brow.

Tony shook his head. “No, the second. Leumeria was the first. It didn’t end quite as badly as Atlantis did, but it got wiped away by volcanic eruptions and tsunamis. The islands of Hawaii are what is left of Leumeria.”

“Who made the Leumerians?” Lucien asked.

“The Pleiadians,” Tony said. “They’re a race primarily made of pure light, but when they take form, they kinda look like us. Except their crown chakras are so open, they always have a halo of light around their heads.”

The triplets exchanged amused glances. “We’ve just got everything fucking wrong,” Lucien chuckled.

“Information is twisted on purpose, so don’t take it personally.” Tony patted him on the shoulder.

“How do you know all this Tony?” Simone asked.

“Alex. He and Enki are close.”

“How do you want us to handle this?” Vasco asked.

“There’s a lot to do, and not a lot of time.” Tony pressed a button on the computer, bringing up a map of the United States. “In six months, about half the world’s population is going to be put in concentration camps.”

The triplets blinked. Even Caleb looked surprised.

“We need your men ready to break people out of the camps when the time comes. Also, both the Club of Rome and Bohemian Grove usually have their annual parties over the summer. This year, because of the energies, they’re going to wait.”

“Pushed back to December 21, 2012, right?” Lucien asked, studying the map.

“Yeah. A great day to celebrate what they think will be their victory. Alex and I have our people ready to take care of the one in Rome. That will remove seven ruling families of the Brotherhood from form on Earth. We need you all to do Bohemian Grove, and make sure that ELMINT doesn’t activate.”

Vasco raised his eyes from the screen to look at Tony. “What is ELMINT?”

“Electro Magnetic Intelligence. It looks like a big ray gun. It’s going to block the surge of energy we’re going to receive from the center of the Milky Way when the Galactic Alignment occurs.”

“And I bet that surge of energy is what’s supposed to help us humans get a clue, right?” Lucien asked.

Tony nodded. “That combined with opening the Cave of creation. You’ve got a lot more detail in the USB drive I’m going to leave with you.”

Simone looked over at Tony. “How are you and Alex able to operate under the radar like this?”

“We’ve got help from Enki and his father. A few other species are helping out, too.”

“More aliens up in their spaceships, huh?” Lucien shook his head.

“If you want to be ignorant and call it that.”

Lucien quirked a brow. “What the fuck would I call it, then?”

“An interdimensional traveling vessel. And they’re not aliens—”

Simone rolled her eyes. “Can we stop with the pronoun wars, please?”

Caleb hid a chuckle behind his hand and a forced cough.

“What? We’re already the rednecks of the galaxy. I’m just trying to educate him.” Tony shrugged.

Lucien glared at Tony and rubbed his middle finger across his cheek.

Vasco studied the map on the screen. The locations of all the concentration camps built and ready for prisoners in the U.S. were marked with red dots. A slow smile touched his lips. “Not one person I’ve put into play has been a disappointment.”

Simone smirked at her brother, before she glanced down at the map. After a moment, she started laughing lightly. “It’s no coincidence that we have SVT Offices within a twenty to thirty mile radius of these camps, is it?”

“Do you ever stop plotting or do you do that in your sleep, too?” Lucien asked

Vasco winked at his brother. “Marcello was responsible for SVT Security expansion, but Stefano might have put an idea or two in his head. We’ll handle our end, Tony.” He flicked his gray eyes over to his siblings. “Lucien, you’re on ELMINT. Simone, concentration camps and underground bases. I’ll take care of Bohemian Grove.”

“Why does it sound like he’s got the easy job?” Lucien pulled a pack of smokes out of his suit jacket pocket.

“Because he does.” Simone reached over and stole the cigarette he shook out of the pack.

“Nobody can fail. If any point breaks down the Ascension has a real good chance of not occurring, even if your scientist do get to the Cave of Creation in time.” Tony cautioned.

“What exactly is the Cave of Creation?” Simone asked, leaning into the light Lucien gave her.

“Nobody knows. Well, somebody knows, but they’re not telling us.” Tony pulled the USB drive out of his computer and handed it to Vasco. “Here. Oh, last thing you should know, Caesar Medicci, Kayla’s boyfriend –“

“She reports to him, and he reports to you.” Vasco finished for him.

Tony nodded, looking at Vasco. “You’ll find this last phase of the game is just full of reincarnated souls. He’s one of them. You two knew each other, Vasco.”

Vasco canted his head slightly, regarding Tony in questioning silence. Then, it hit him, and with it came a full barrage of memories and emotions that thickened the steel of his eyes. Instinctively his hands balled into fists at his sides. “Roman,” he growled the word.

“Yeah, Roman. Have fun with that,” Tony said.

“When you’ve got unfinished business, you’ve got unfinished business.” Lucien rose to his feet.

“I’m going to Denver, now, to give Caesar new instructions.” Tony closed his laptop. “Originally, he was coming back to the Island to have Kayla kill you three. Enki has stopped that order.”

“Does Enki’s brother know he’s stopped that order?” Vasco asked.

“Most likely. That would be a little difficult to hide.” Tony extended his hand. “We won’t meet again. Anything that comes from Alex and I now will get routed to you all through Xavier.”

Simone took his hand first and leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, Tony.”

“It’s what I do sweetheart.” Tony returned her kiss, and then hugged both Lucien and Vasco.

Minutes later, the triplets were back inside the SUV, and Caleb was taking them to the private airfield outside of Crystal City.

“I like how we’re not only saving the world, but attempting to not get murdered by our own family before we can pull it off,” Lucien mused, staring out the window. “It really pisses me off that Amadeo and Olivia are on the wrong side.”

“Do you know how they got there?” Simone looked over at him.

Lucien slowly shook his head. “I wish I did.”

The Past

"You grit your teeth, and you bear it.

Because you are a Terenzio first."

-Liliana Terenzio

Chapter 4

“There’s little difference in my world between business and personal;

just levels of disclosure.”

-Stefano Vasco Terenzio

August 23, 1927 - 10:10 AM

Boston, MA

Coffee House

I hear police are going to be doubled at the execution.”

Stefano Vasco Terenzio, Crime Boss of the Terenzio Family, lifted cold gray eyes to Ciro Anatoli, his closest friend and former bodyguard. Ciro primarily guarded Stefano’s wife, because Stefano had lost him to her in a bet. For this particular assignment, Ciro was on loan. “It doesn’t change what needs to be done. They are better off working for me than dead. And I want to catch the eye of the Galleanists.” Nicola Sacco and Bartolomeo Vanzetti were Italian immigrants falsely convicted on charges of robbery and murder. They were also members of the Galleanists, a militant Italian-American anarchist group. They were set to be executed tomorrow.

Ciro nodded, crushing out his cigarette in the small round ashtray on the wrought iron table. “Just letting you know. Hey, where’s Nina?” Nina was the new bodyguard that Stefano frequently went without.

Stefano leaned back in his chair, bringing the small coffee cup with him. “She’ll be arriving later this afternoon with Lil and Zhane.”

“Who’s Zhane?”

“New guy. Primarily Air Force, but I needed the extra hands and want to see what he can handle.” Stefano raised the rim of the coffee mug to his mouth, swallowing down the caffeine boost.

“How’s Lil doing?” Ciro asked as he slung his arm over the back of his chair. He turned slightly to watch all the legs that walked by the outdoor café.

“She’ll be fine. She usually is, even when she doesn’t think so.”

Ciro chuckled. “You shoulda been a philosopher or some shit, Stef.”

The flicker of amusement softened Stefano’s face. He opened his mouth to respond, but something struck him mute. Through the thin crowd of people that moved down the street, he caught sight of a young man; a young man with a head full of black hair, his mother’s strong aristocratic features, and as he came closer Stefano saw, piercing gray eyes.

“Stef?” Ciro looked at his friend curiously.

“Stay here,” Stefano said as he nearly dropped his coffee mug on the table. Standing quickly, he hopped over the small railing that separated the café from the sidewalk and pursued the young target. A block later, the opportunity Stefano was looking for came. He bumped into the young man and kept his head lowered. His deft, thieving fingers pulled the young man’s wallet from the inside of his coat. Stefano’s target never noticed; he simply continued on his way.

Stefano did not pursue him any father. He walked back the way he’d come, and flipped open the wallet, looking down at the photo identification inside. It was the name that made his steps suddenly halt.

Marcello Adams.

The address below confirmed what he already knew and thrust Stefano back into a piece of his past that he rarely thought about anymore. It was the now, and more importantly the future, that most concerned him. The past was full of memories of his abusive father, of doing what he could to protect Lil from the bastard, of teaching himself the ways of the world; and how to manipulate it.

But there had been moments, though few, which reminded him of his humanity.

“If we ever have a son, let’s name him Marcello.” She propped her head in her hand to look up at him, tracing idle patterns over his chest.

He couldn’t help but be amused at her gentle naïveté. She wouldn’t last a day in his world. “Let’s try to get through the week, first.”

“We will,” she said. “They won’t find me here. And I hope they never do.”

He knew better. They would find her, eventually, and even if her grandparents didn’t track her down, he would never let her stay. There were different levels—depths—to innocence. He had already taken one from her. He wouldn’t take any more. He framed her face in his hands, guiding her up to his waiting mouth. “For once, Miss Adams, I don’t want to think about the future.”

“You suddenly had the desire to steal someone’s wallet?” Ciro asked in a highly amused tone when Stefano came back.

His friend’s voice snapped Stefano back to the present. He removed the photo ID, and dropped the wallet and a few a few silver dollars on the table. “Let’s go.”

§

August 30, 1927 - 12:21 AM

St. Martin Parish, Louisiana

Blackwood Swamps

Stefano walked into the dimly lit cottage, nestled among the swamp. She was sitting by the window, talking to herself, which was nothing unusual for Gypsy. Seth, his cousin and her husband, was not home, yet. Stefano tossed the photo identification onto the table in front of her.

“Tell me, Gypsy.”

She looked down at the picture, then back up at Stefano and giggled. “You know.”

He did know, but confirmation forced the heavy breath from his lungs. His son. “Can he be my heir?”

She canted her head at him, almost curiously. “Can he?”

It required a great deal of patience to pull information from Gypsy’s brilliant, but utterly crazy, mind; the price she paid for knowing what she did he supposed. Not that he cared, so long as he got the information. “If I continue on this path, will he accept my invitation?”

She focused on him in a moment of great clarity and said, very seriously: “Only if you are not on that path, Stefano.” Just as quickly as the moment came it was gone, lost by the noise of another boat approaching. Gypsy smiled. “Seth Frost is home!” She jumped out of her chair and scrambled to the door, launching herself at it just as it opened. Thankfully, his reflexes were quick. It also helped that he had learned to expect it. Seth (last name not Frost but the reason she called him that was another story entirely) wrapped his arms tightly around her.

Stefano remained standing, lost in his own thoughts. Only if he wasn’t on that path. This meant he could finish with the foundation. Line up the pieces where he wanted them. Then, let his family, his son, take the next step.

Without him.

Stefano lifted his hands, the fingers of one twisting the wedding band on the other. His only regret would be leaving her.

§

November 17, 1935 - 11:11 AM

New Orleans, LA

SVT Securities Office

“I need a favor, Alexandro.” Stefano stood in front of the glass windows overlooking the Central Business District of New Orleans.

“I’m listening.” Louisiana Governor Alexandro DeMarco sat at the conference table. Older, sharp blue eyes watched Stefano as the scented smoke from Alex’s cigar slithered into the air. The DeMarcos were longtime friends of the Terenzios. For Stefano and his wife, intimately so. Alexandro looked like a southern politician with short, salt and pepper hair combed neatly back, wearing his favorite dark blue, three piece, pinstriped suit. The watch his wife, Mona, had given him for his fiftieth birthday sat on a gold chain in his vest pocket underneath the suit jacket. Despite the fact that certain areas of law enforcement and business were manipulated to make it easier for his brother Antonio, the current Don of the DeMarco crime family, to do business, Alexandro was a well-liked governor. He’d beaten Huey P. Long for the spot without tampering with the votes.

“I love my family, like you love yours. It’s time I stepped back from things. I’m being hunted, and I don’t want the cross hairs to fall on the wrong people.”

For a few silent moments, Alexandro studied Stefano’s back. “This conversation is over, Stefano, until you’re ready to cease with the bullshit.”

Amusement flickered across Stefano’s face as he turned away from the window, looking at Alexandro. “You know, I’ve always said if there was a better man, and meant it, it would be you.”

Alexandro was not phased by the compliment. “Both in and out of your bedroom. Let’s have it.”

A smirk settled over Stefano’s lips as he walked around the table and settled into one of the leather chairs. “You know about the sensitive nature of the weapon I acquired?”

“Si.”

“I need you to hold onto it until after the transition. You’ll know when it’s time to return it to my family.”

Alexandro studied him in silence, and then finally asked: “Why, Stefano?” He was not referring to the weapons.

“Because it’s time.”

“You are more of a bastard than I gave you credit for. You know the state you will leave her in with this move.”

Stefano’s eyes narrowed. “She will go there whether I am around or not. We both know that.”

Alexandro cocked his head. “You’ll give up everything, purely for ego?”

Stefano shot up out of his chair, stabbing his index finger towards the table. “I will die to see my will done. And it will be done.” He took a step closer to the man he considered a friend. “And do not presume I take anything lightly, or that I don’t love her more than this game. This is bigger than me, bigger than us. If it doesn’t play out to our advantage, neither of our families will be left standing.”

Alexandro stared at him in thoughtful silence. He nodded, almost imperceptibly. “We will safeguard the weapon for you. Until it’s time.”

Stefano nodded once. “Thank you, Alexandro.”

§

For two days, Stefano remained locked away in the SVT Building. As the sun began to set over the Big Easy, it was finished. He could do no more. He drew a tired hand over his unshaven jaw and closed the leather bound journal. The letter was tucked into the envelope and placed inside. His journal, along with two other letters, would be delivered at a later date. Now, he was going home to his wife to face that beautiful wrath he was sure to get for being unavailable for the last forty-eight hours.

Stefano collected his suit jacket and fedora off the back of the door. He set the hat on his head and flicked off lights as he left. He slid on the suit jacket as he got into the elevator, stabbed the button for the ground floor, and pulled out his Marlboros. He shook one out and set it between his lips, the sterling Dunhill lighter he’d stolen from his wife cradled in his palm as he waited for the ding.

When he stepped into the lobby that was surrounded by glass doors Stefano paused. For several moments, he simply stood there, watching the light crowd pass by. Eventually, he brought the flame to life and lit the cigarette. A long, satisfying pull was drawn in as he tucked the lighter back into his pocket. He straightened the sleeves of his suit jacket. Then, he walked outside.

A nondescript, average man came through the crowd of harmless people walking down the street and stumbled right into Terenzio. The assassin’s hand came out of his pocket, a .22 held expertly in his palm. The muzzle came up with unerring speed, pressed at Terenzio’s chest. The next sound was that of a gunshot.

Stefano could have prevented it. He could have not walked outside. He could have let Seth take him out weeks ago when he had been spotted.

Only if you are not on that path, Stefano.

He didn’t fight it. The sharp, echoing boom that startled the unknowing sheep on the street brought forth a sudden heat, and then searing, debilitating pain. Stefano’s hands shot up, fingers clutching the front of the assassin’s shirt as he met the eyes of his murderer and whispered: “I know.”

Two strong arms caught the staggering Terenzio, the gun gone as quickly as it had appeared. The assassin even managed to paint an expression of concern on his face, though when his eyes caught and locked with Stefano's, they were laughing. How hard the mighty fall. It didn’t matter if Terenzio knew; he was still going to die. The assassin stepped backwards as Stefano toppled to the pavement. As the crowd began to gather around the dying man, he melted into it, thinking how pleased Mrs. Adams would be.

Stefano couldn’t get his breath. No, no. It was too soon. He had promised himself that he wouldn’t leave, not until he saw her. His vision became fuzzy, darkness rapidly crawling from the edges. The shouts of the crowd around him faded until there was nothing but silence. His arms shook, the strength to hold his weight failing.

It was one fight Stefano would not win.

His chest hit the pavement, staining it crimson. The falling sunlight caught on the gold of his wedding band; the last thing he saw. For him, it had been enough.

§

June 21, 1974 - 4:44 PM

Alcyone Island

Bazaar

*Marcello Terenzio, head of the Terenzio family, leaned against the concrete pillar with his arms folded over his suited chest. He moved through the Dion Corp Empire like a ghost. To the underworld that his family also controlled, he didn’t exist. The deception had allowed him to manipulate situations from afar for decades. That never made him less busy, or sought-after by key people. No one bothered him right now, though, and he was glad; because after telling his wife that morning that he would be too busy to wander around the Bazaar with her that afternoon, there he was; waiting.

Seconds later, the doors opened, and Marilyn stepped through them, with her purse hanging from the crook of her arm and her eyes fixed on the sheaf of papers in her hand. The warm light of the afternoon caught in the waves of her blonde hair, filling the age-lightened strands with youthful color. It was a different light, however, that came into her face and brightened her eyes when she glanced up and saw her husband. Marilyn smiled, deepening the lines around her mouth and the faint webbing of wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. "I thought your afternoon was booked?" For a man who didn't exist, he tended to be very, very busy.

Thirty some odd years later, Marcello still felt a little like a boy with an insane crush when his wife smiled at him. Uncoiling from his stance, he stepped into her. "It is. But I knew your husband wouldn't be around." He brushed her cheek with his thumb and kissed her. "I haven't ditched a meeting in a while. I was due."

The light danced in the blue-green of Mari’s eyes, like the reflection of light on water. "He won't be. Not for another..." She checked the watch on her wrist. "Three hours, at least." Her smile widened into a faint grin. "You should kiss me again, while there's time."

"Is that right?" Marcello matched her grin. Lowering his hands to her waist, he pulled her closer so he could kiss her again.

Some thirty-odd years later, Marilyn still couldn't get enough of her husband. Grin deepening in the heartbeat before his mouth met hers, she closed her eyes and caught his face between her hands, wrinkling the documents she had been studying just seconds before.

Marcello lingered in the warm, familiar taste of her mouth, earning lowered smiles from a few of the never-ending stream of employees that flowed in and out of the building. Easing back, he kissed the tip of her nose. "What are you putting on the American Express card today?"

Marilyn’s nose wrinkled affectionately. "I haven't decided, yet. I thought I would wander up and down the aisles and see what jumps out at me." She glanced away long enough to stow the papers in her purse.

"Now, that sounds exciting." There was teasing in Marcello’s feigned excitement. He took her hand in his own. "You know, there are better things we can do with a quiet afternoon."

"There are," Mari agreed, threading her fingers through his. Her grin resurfaced. "But if you're ditchin' all of your meetings, then you and I have the rest of the day to do those better things. The bazaar closes at seven."

"Fine. I'll just drag you down a deserted alley like we were in our twenties again." Marcello just might have been serious. Giving Mari’s hand a gentle squeeze, he tucked his other in his pants pocket and began walking toward the Bazaar.

Marilyn didn't doubt Marcello’s sincerity. Time might have given them a few wrinkles and gray hairs, but it hadn't smothered the flame that burned between them. If anything, it had made that flame burn hotter and brighter. She could think of no better way to spend an afternoon than basking in its glow. "Let's try not to get caught this time."

Marcello laughed, shaking his head in sheer amusement at the memory of the last time a healthy dose of lust had over taken them in public. "The expression on that man's face was priceless."

Mari laughed with him and rubbed a hand over her cheek. "I think it took a day or two for the red to come out of my cheeks."

"That near permanent blush suited you." Clear affection lit Marcello’s eyes.

"Suited you, maybe." Mari dug him good-naturedly in the ribs. "As if it wasn't bad enough that I couldn't get rid of it, but whenever someone asked me about it, it burned up into my ears and went a darker shade of red."

That did nothing to prevent another round of laughter. "I still say that wasn't the worst. The near catch in the elevator; now that could have been a disaster."

Mari laughed again—she could, in hindsight—and wrapped her hand around Marcello’s arm, giving it an affectionate squeeze. "Oh, I wouldn't have been able to look those people in the eye for a month."

Humor made the corners of Marcello’s eyes crinkle. "It would have been my fault. You did warn me. But then again, I never seem to be able to help myself." He pressed a kiss into her hair.

"You're about as good at not bein' able to help yourself as I am at denying you." She smiled up at him, her eyes glittering, and glanced out over the bazaar with its bustling, open stalls and charming blend of island authenticity and Alcyone tourism. It was one of Marilyn's favorite places. Tightening her fingers around Marcello’s as she made her decision, she led them into the closely-packed aisles of the food vendors. A slow smile curved Marcello’s mouth as he watched his wife. Like most men, shopping wasn't high on his priority list. Marcello simply enjoyed spending time with her. And annoying her at intervals. "I had lunch with Kayla today."

Marilyn chatted amicably with the locals, asking after family members and loved ones and the well-being of dogs and goats and the occasional chicken. The man from whom she had been buying fresh eggs for the last twelve years had just finished updating her on the condition of his favorite spotted hen when Marcello spoke. Mari paused, glancing up at her husband, and tucked her carton of newly purchased eggs beneath her arm. "How did that go?"

"It was... fun." It had only been recently that Marcello had stopped being so much of a ghost in Kayla's life and had attempted to get to know her; or at, least the face, she showed them. Marcello found it difficult to stop the faint smile that touched his mouth. "She has your stubborn look."

Neither could Mari stop the small, pleased smile that settled along her mouth. Kayla's existence—and now presence—had been trying, to say the very least, but Kayla was Marilyn’s daughter. She was Marilyn’s flesh and blood. Marilyn knew her in ways that no one else did, and she was connected to Kayla in ways that no one else would ever be. It pleased Marilyn that she had passed some of herself into the child that had been a stranger to her for so long. "It's funny how you bring that look out in both of us, don't you think?" she teased.

"I just have that effect on the women in my life." Marcello winked, his smile deepening.

SVT Construction was in the process of building a parking garage across the street. The lot was half finished. It was from the second level, absent of the construction workers that had called an early day that the assassin set his eye in the scope.

"You love every minute of it, too." Mari stepped into Marcello, lifting onto the tips of her toes to kiss his cheek, and slipped her arm through his. The dry, cloying scent of fresh herbs and heavy, fragrant spices drew her further down the aisle, and she stopped a stall laden with sacks of seeds, leaves, and finely ground powders. Mari peered at the selection. "What did the two of you talk about?"

"Where she wanted to go to college, and whether or not she wanted to join the company afterwards." His mouth twitched. "The conversations that our son tried to avoid."

The assassin curled his finger around the trigger, slowly turning the weapon. The scope made a bull’s-eye over his target’s chest. He held his breath.

Mari sifted her fingers through a mound of fennel seeds and smiled over her shoulder. "What did she say? Is she going to follow your footsteps to Harvard?" If a mother's love could turn a killer's heart, then maybe, just maybe, a father's could be softened; allowed to love another girl as completely and as fiercely as he had loved the daughter that he had lost.

"She's considering it." The whole conversation had amused Marcello. Since coming into his father’s world, one of empires and crime, the time of his life spent in typical academia often felt like it had happened to someone else. "I told her I'd come when the two of you fly out to Boston to take a firsthand look."

"I'll make the arrangements, then. And after the official tour of the campus, you can give us the real tour."

The assassin, Matthew DeMarco could wait no longer. He squeezed the trigger, just once. He didn't bother to stick around to see if he'd hit his mark; he knew he had. Marilyn Pearl-Terenzio would die. Abandoning the gun, Matthew turned around and jogged away.

Passing on the spices for now, she smiled at the young woman behind the stall, thanking her for her time through that simple gesture, and turned toward Marcello--but halfway through that turn, she jerked back. Behind her, a fine red mist that she couldn't see burst into the air. Marilyn's mouth opened, but no sound came out. Her brows furrowed, confusion and shock seeping into her features. She glanced down and saw blood welling in a round, perfectly formed hole in the front of her shirt. "Marcello...?" Her legs gave out, and she sagged against him.

There had been moments in his life when he felt like the world was giving way beneath his feet. But nothing, nothing was quite as horrifically surreal as the moment he realized his wife had been shot. Shock spread across his face, his eyes dropping towards her chest that was rapidly staining red. No. "Mari?" He stepped into her, catching her weight in his arms. No. No. No. "Mari? Baby?" That smooth, calm voice was suddenly frantic. He sank to his knees and pulled her back from him so he could see her wound. The world didn't give; it shattered. He snapped his eyes up to the woman behind the stall. "Call an ambulance! Now! Tell them Isis is down. Do it!" For security purposes, Isis had been his wife’s code name. After a shocked pause the woman ran off to find the MP Officer that was stationed somewhere in the crowd.

There was no burst of pain. There was no heat, lancing through her chest. She didn't feel anything but a distant tingling in her toes and a cold weight that spread through her ribs and pushed down on them. The world moved a little more slowly than it should have, and the sounds of the bazaar seemed distant; muffled. She could hear Marcello, though. His voice and the panic that edged it were perfectly clear. Mari dug her fingers into his shirt, holding herself up as she drew a deep breath. It made a wet, bubbling sound and hitched in her chest. She coughed, and realized what was happening when she took her hand from her mouth and saw that it was spotted with dark red blood. She was dying. "Marcello..."

"Mari, stay with me." He pulled her closer and touched her cheek, his eyes desperate and pleading. "Hang on, Mari, just hang on. Please. Please. They're coming."

There was no fear. There was no panic; not in her voice, at least. She sank into him, breathing in shallow, bubbling gasps as she wrapped her blood-flecked fingers around the hand on her cheek. "It's okay," she said softly, pressing her forehead to his. "You'll be okay."

No, it wasn't. No, he wouldn't. Marcello clutched at her hand, willing her to stay with him. "Mari, don't." His voice cracked. He could feel the tears, wet and cool, rolling down his cheeks. "Don't leave me. You can't leave me. I can't do this without you."

His arms were warm; so very warm, and wonderful. Her one regret was that she couldn't wrap her own arms around him, now, because the tingling was spreading and numbness was following in its slow, cold wake. It was all that she could do to keep hold of his hand; and to smile through the tears that rolled unchecked down her cheeks. "Yes, you can. I love you." Her voice trembled with emotion. So, too, did the corners of her smile. "I love you."

"Baby, no. Mari, please." Marcello stared down into her eyes and felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest. "I love you, too. Mari, I love you so much. Don't go."

Marilyn’s breath came in shorter, desperate gasps. Her pulse tripped erratically in her throat. She felt the seconds stretch longer and longer between heartbeats, and the world went a little darker each beat. Marcello's face—that beautiful mouth and those eyes; how she loved the color of his eyes, like the soft, luminescent gray of the sky after rain—swam in and out of focus, and in a moment of desperate clarity, she clutched his face, wanting to see him clearly one more time. "It's okay," she whispered, nuzzling his face. She brushed his tears away with her thumb. It left a bright red streak down his cheek. She kissed him then, tasting the coppery tang of blood on the warmth of his lips, and gave him one more smile. "I love you, Marcello... I love..." The light went out of her eyes, and her hand slipped off of his cheek. She was gone.

When those beautiful, expressive aquamarine eyes went blank, for a moment, Marcello was deathly still. When reality swiped its cold, feral claws through his heart, he wanted nothing more than to join her, because surely, he couldn't live with this pain. “Mari?” he whispered, and heard nothing. Gripping her to him tighter, Marcello’s silent tears became a heart-wrenching scream.

§

June 22, 1974 - 12:12 AM

Alcyone Island

Farmhouse of Marcello and Marilyn

The silence was thick. It’s presence a weight, staining the air. Marcello sat in his wife’s drawing room, facing the garden. She loved sketching. When he built the house, he had filled up that room just for her. Her drawings were everywhere. He could almost still feel her; see her curled up in her chair in front of the window with pad and pencil in hand.

Fourteen years ago, he had learned a few truths about the world. Those truths weren’t all about the evil that thirteen men and their alien masters did. Some were spiritual in nature and fascinating in their concepts. Some had amazing potential to be scientifically proven one day. One of them concerned death. Death was not the absence of life; it was a transformation of form. It sounded great. Until they took Mari away from him.

Marcello closed his eyes against the fierce, painful assault that thought brought. The reality of it crushed his heart; an intense, choking pressure from which there was simply no escape. The Brotherhood had done this. He knew it was Them. Marilyn Terenzio was not a woman with enemies. The strike had been personal.

He was not young, anymore. He was sixty-one years old. They had been married for thirty-one years, and it wasn’t enough. He didn’t want to hear at least you had that long. If anyone said that to him, they were going to eat a bullet. He shouldn’t have to live without her. It felt… wrong. He didn’t want to live without her. How could he walk the line that he had to walk without her there to keep him from the darkness? How could he be a father to their children, look into the eyes and faces of the lives that carried a very tangible, visual piece of her, and not fall apart?

Marcello’s hand clenched into a fist that he pressed against his chest. He had spent the last fourteen years collecting information; learning what They controlled, how They controlled it, where their weak points were. It hadn’t been that difficult, once he knew where to look. For fourteen years, he sat on that information, allowing his uncle to play the game as his father instructed, biding his time because Matthew DeMarco had told him that his was a higher purpose.

A higher purpose that, right now, Marcello didn’t give a fuck about. They were sorely mistaken if they thought that he would just accept this transgression without consequence. Marcello shot to his feet, went into the darkened living room and snatched up the phone. He stabbed the buttons.

“Joey, Marcello. Meet me in my office first thing tomorrow morning-“

A scream pierced the silence of the house. Marcello’s eyes jerked to the ceiling.

Kayla.

“Tomorrow morning, Joey,” Marcello said before he dropped the phone back into the cradle and went jogging up the stairs. He pushed open the door to Kayla’s room. Mari’s daughter was sitting up in her bed, her hands clenched in her long, blonde hair. Kayla frequently suffered from nightmares. The things the Brotherhood had done to her had left their mark, the demons of the past given free rein in the shadows of her dreams. Mari had been the one to calm her when this happened, but Mari wasn’t here anymore. Heart twisting, Marcello snapped on the dim light on her nightstand, and sat down on the edge of her bed.

Kayla wasn’t his daughter. She was an enemy sent to kill him. But the only thought that filled Marcello’s head as he looked at her tortured face was that she was Mari’s daughter. “Shh, Kayla, I’m here.” She was trembling. Marcello found her hands and pulled them away from her hair. Kayla jerked when he touched her, snapping frantic eyes up to his own. She stared at him in the silence, uncertainty written across her features. Slowly, Marcello drew her against him, wrapping his arms protectively around her.

At first, she resisted. After a moment, she sank into him, burrowing into his chest, and let her tears come, open and ragged. They soaked into his shirt. “They got Mom. They got Mom,” she whispered, barely audible.

Marcello heard her. He wondered if Kayla had any idea what she was whispering, or if she was still too caught up in the scary place between a bad dream and a reality that might have been no better. Swallowing back the lump in his throat, he kissed the top of his step-daughter’s head, and simply held her. “I’m here, Kayla. I’m here.” He wouldn’t tell her it was all right, because it wasn’t. But, one way or another, he’d make it even.

Chapter 5

“We Terenzios are always pushing. Sometimes, we go too far.”

-Liliana Terenzio

June 22, 1974 - 7:44 AM

Alcyone Island

Dion Corporation Headquarters

Marcello, stop and think.” High above Alcyone on the 52nd floor of the Dion Corporation building, Joey “The Mouth” Terenzio stood in front of Marcello’s desk. “It’s not time to start the war. That isn’t your job.”

Marcello stood with his back to his younger cousin, staring out at the island paradise below. “They killed, Mari, Joey.” His voice was sharp. Anger hid the nearly overwhelming pain.

“Yeah, yeah, I know they did.” Joey’s voice gentled. “But if you start this tit for tat, you know what’s gonna happen. It aint time yet.”

“They took something from me, Joey. Something very precious.” Marcello slowly turned around. “I will not let that slide.”

“Marc, you do this now you fuck it up for the future, and you know it.” Joey frowned, albeit gently at him. “You’re pivotal. What we are doing right now is pivotal for your grandchildren. You gotta think about them, too.”

Rational thinking led him to the truth of Joey’s words. His purpose was simple; prepare his family for the Ascension. Stay off the radar, move the pieces into place so when the time came, checkmate would be inevitable. Except, he didn’t feel rational, because a short thirty-six hours ago, his wife of thirty years had died in his arms.

“Vengeance won’t bring her back. And it won’t take the pain away,” Joey said.

“No, it won’t.” His eyes darkened. “But it will make me feel better.”

Joey frowned. Marcello wasn’t going to let this go, and to be honest, he truly couldn’t blame him. Nobody got away with fucking with family, period. “I think I’ve got something, then. It won’t take you to Mari’s killer, but if you want to take a swing at them, this is it.”

“I’m listening.”

“I think I found Dr. Joseph Mengele.”

Dr. Mengele was the man who had programmed Kayla against them. “Where?”

“Ridgecrest, California. And it just so happens I’ve got to be in LA anyway to stick my foot in Jimmy Regace’s ass.” Jimmy Regace was the crime boss in LA. “How about you tag along and get some aggression out?”

Marcello nodded once. “We’ll go after the funeral.”

“You got it, boss.”

§

June 26, 1974 - 10:10 PM

Ridgecrest, CA

Home of Joseph Mengele

Marcello sat at Dr. Mengele’s desk. Around him, three SVT Security Agents swept the house, making sure it was empty. He didn’t want to be interrupted when the good doctor and his wife came home.

Marcello flipped open the planner, scanning the appointments listed in it. Finding nothing he wanted in there, he pushed the chair back and looked down at the drawers. A small label, in the upper left-hand corner on the bottom drawer read: Mannequin. Mannequin was the program Kayla had been a part of. Apparently, Mengele was not concerned about his wife becoming curious and rifling through his desk. Marcello went to pull open the drawer just to find it locked. He stood up, motioning one of his agents over to him. “Open it. The other two drawers too.”

“Yes, sir.”

It took the agent two minutes to pick the lock. Marcello sat back down in the doctor’s chair and started pulling out folders. Mengele was extremely organized. His notes on the Project were incredibly detailed—and horrific. Project Mannequin was started by the NSA on underground bases in Britain. The objective of the Project was to create a better kind of espionage agent and assassin; one that would last longer mentally and not be plagued by issues of conscience. They experimented in creating these agents by using forms of mind control and genetic manipulation programming. Joseph Mengele was an expert in trauma-based mind control.

The ideal patient was five years old or younger. To properly program the mind, first, it needed to shatter. This was done by systematically traumatizing the child, using such means as burying them alive with snakes, or taking them to the edge of death, just to revive them. Once the mind shattered into fragments, each child could then be programmed for a different use. Sometimes, an electromagnetic grid was incorporated into the brain to assist with programming. It was called the Mengele Grid.

The more Marcello read, the more nauseated and furious he became, until his hand nearly shook. That a government that claimed to be a democracy would do that to children—to people—who, ninety-nine percent of the time, were not willing participants, was as disgusting as it was infuriating. Forcing himself to calm, Marcello set the doctor’s general notes aside and moved to the section marked Patients, organized by month and year. He selected the date Kayla would have been involved, and found her folder to be one of the thickest in the drawer.

Like most of the other folders on the doctor’s “patients,” there were tape recordings, photographs, and pages upon pages of notes. It was an envelope marked From Deucalion that made Marcello catch his breath. Deucalion was Kayla’s biological father, the man who had raped and then drugged Marilyn so that she had forgotten it ever happened. That bomb had been dropped on their world nearly twenty years ago, and Marcello had tracked Deucalion down and killed him. Deucalion’s head was sitting in the cellar underneath the Governor’s Mansion on the Island, next to a few of Marcello’s father’s enemies that had pushed SVT too far.

February 17st, 1957

Doctor Mengele,

I hope you are still finding America to your liking. We are very pleased to have you as the lead scientist of a program that is so important to the future of the world. We’re not so much different from Hitler, are we?

I have learned that your blood testing shows despite my rendezvous with Marilyn Pearl–Terenzio, I was unsuccessful in impregnating her. This would lead us to conclude that unless Marilyn was a whore, and I don’t believe she was, Marcello must be Kayla’s father. Considering our plans for our subject, I find her true heritage almost poetic. Regardless, I want you to proceed as planned. I never really thought of her as my daughter anyway, just a means to an end.

Keep me updated on your progress.

Regards,

Deucalion

“Ghost Team, come in.” Joey’s voice came in through their two way radios. “Subject has left the restaurant. They’re on their way to you.”

The answering response from the Senior SVT Agent was a distant buzz compared to the sudden roar in Marcello’s head. Kayla was his daughter. For moments, Marcello couldn’t get his breath.

Kayla’s appearance on his and Mari’s doorstep had put such a strain on their marriage. He had been distant and moody for the first few months, and when with his family, he had worn the veil that he had never shown his wife. Mari had always been able to look at him and really see him; not so, those first few months with Kayla. He’d worn it because he was a man, not a saint, and Kayla had been a constant reminder of an enemy, even one that had been killed, despite the fact that she was his wife’s daughter. She hadn’t been his daughter.

Slowly, he’d begun to get around that. His wife had demanded it in her own firm but gentle way, and she had a habit of bringing out the best in him. So, he’d stopped ignoring and gotten to know Kayla. There was still a child underneath all that programming, and Marcello had come to care about Kayla more than he would admit.

After all that, to now find out that Kayla really was his, theirs, Marcello felt the world give out beneath him for the second time in his life. He tunneled the fingers of one hand back through his hair and continued flipping through her file. Kayla didn’t just have her mother’s fiery spirit, but a Terenzios, too. According to Mengele’s notes, she had been resistant to her programming. Hence, it had taken fourteen instead of twelve years for her to appear. A single tear slipped down Marcello’s cheek as his rage overwhelmed him. They had taken his daughter and programmed her against him. They had committed unspeakable acts against her for fourteen years, things no child should ever have to endure. Marcello saw red. He felt like he was going to snap, slip into the darker side of his nature and never come out. Terenzios played the game so effectively because they walked that proverbial line between good and evil. They could dance over to either side at any point of their choosing. Sometimes, the darkness called louder than the light, and it was important for a Terenzio to have someone in their lives to pull them back. Aunt Lil had had Kyle for example. He used to have Mari.

“Sir, he’s home,” one of the Senior SVT Agents said.

Marcello snapped his gaze up. Right now, he didn’t care if he ever saw the light again. Leaving the file open on the desk, he came out of the office. His Agents were positioned in the kitchen, on either side of the garage door, where the doctor and his wife would come into the house.

“Stop being silly, dear. Mrs. Kesiers just had a bad week, that’s all.” They were speaking in German. Mengele’s wife walked in first. The Agent on the other side of the door grabbed her by the arm and slapped his hand over her mouth, muffling her scream.

“I don’t care. She’s snotty, and condescending and—” Mengele stepped though the doorway, then immediately halted. His eyes widened when they came to rest on Marcello, and he whispered in a strongly accented voice: “You… How did you….?”

Marcello’s answer was to ram his knuckles into the older man’s jaw. He grabbed Mengele by the front of his shirt and dragged him over to the stove. “Your cologne is interesting.” Marcello’s tone was dangerously quiet. “Now, I understand why Kayla called you the man with the funny smell.”

Mengele’s eyes widened in shock at that revelation, but quickly narrowed with indignation. Blood stained the corner of his mouth. “What do you want?” he demanded.

Marcello turned the electric burner to high. He put his hand against the back of the doctor’s head and bent him over, holding Mengele’s face mere inches away from the heat. Mrs. Mengele began to cry. “Is Kayla my daughter? Is it true?”

At first, Mengele said nothing, but once the heat began blistering his skin, he shouted: “Yes! Yes! She’s yours!”

The rage that coursed through Marcello made his body tremble. He leaned close and whispered in Mengele’s ear: “You want to know what I want? I want you to scream.”

§

July 4, 1974 - 4:11 PM

Washington, D.C.

Home of the Vice President of the U.S.

Fury rode every step Julian Terenzio took. His nephew, Dominiceo—Dom Jr., one of Liliana’s twin children—followed alongside of him. Two Secret Service agents escorted them into the office of the Vice President of the United States.

“What have you done?” Julian demanded without preamble. The door clicked shut behind them. Dom Jr. stood behind his uncle. His eyes were as sharp and angry as Julian’s tone.

Three men sat in the room. Two had full heads of white hair. The other had a dramatically receding hairline. They all shared aristocratic features. They were bluebloods. Men who could trace their ancestry back centuries to the Pharaohs of Egypt and the kings of Greece. Well, two of them could. The third wore his humanity as a disguise. If one was looking an Anunnaki could be identified by the cold, piercing depth of their black eyes; the kind found on the Vice President of the United States, who stood from his arm chair and focused those eyes on Julian.

“Those are harsh words coming from a slave,” the Vice President said.

Julian snapped his gaze to the Anunnaki. He didn’t back down. Instead, he stepped forward. The tip of his brother’s walking cane struck the wooden floor. “It wasn’t a statement. It was a question, and a fair one. What have you done to my nephew? I cannot fulfill my end of our arrangement if you’re sidestepping me.”

The Vice President turned from Julian and looked at the two men sitting behind him. The man with the receding hairline was the president of the RAND Corporation, the Illuminati’s eastern hemisphere think tank. The other man was a member of the British royal family. He currently gave orders to the Black Nobility, the European Union’s small, personal army and collection of assassins. “Would you excuse us, please?” The men nodded, setting their glasses down, and left.

Only the secret service agents, who were Grey aliens in disguise, remained. They stood motionless by the door. The Vice President looked back at Julian. “We haven’t done anything to Marcello. Yet.”

Julian frowned. “It’s a simple fucking question. Answer it.”

The Vice President smiled. What it lacked in warmth it made up for with its mocking edge. He reached up and straightened Julian’s tie. “I don’t think you’ve been so loyal all these years. And I don’t think your brother was, either.”

“Excuse me?” Julian batted the alien’s hand from him. “Who killed Kennedy for you? Me. Who was running the LSD and providing the hookers the CIA needed to conduct operation Midnight Climax? Us." Midnight Climax had been a CIA program to test the effects of LSD. Prostitutes lured their johns to a specific hotel and slipped their clients an LSD Mickey. “If I went down the whole list of the things we’ve done for you, we’d age another fucking year, so don’t feed me bullshit.”

The Vice President left his hand in mid-air as it was batted away. “Yes, you’ve done very well at doing what we ask, but your loyalty is tainted by your ulterior motives, so don’t play these games with me anymore.”

“You got some proof of this?” Dom Jr. asked. “Or did you suddenly decide to fuck with your best bulldog?”

The Vice President pulled a folded envelope out of the inside of his suit jacket. He flipped open the lip and removed a letter soft with wrinkles. He read out loud: “Julian. There’s something I’ve never shared with you, something that you are not to share with Lil or Carissa. The burden of this secret, for now, will be yours.”

As skilled as the rest of his family in masking his emotions, Julian’s fingers tightened imperceptibly on the handle of the cane. “Where did you get that?”

The Vice President lifted his eyes from the letter and nodded at the Greys. One of them walked out of the room. The Grey returned moments later with the Dominic, Carissa’s youngest son. Dominic’s familiar gray gaze was hard, but a flicker of remorse lived within its depths.

Julian blinked, and then his eyes narrowed. “What have you done?”

“He’s picked a side Julian. Something you’re going to have to do,” the Vice President said with a callous smile.

“You idiot,” Dom Jr. hissed.

“Don’t lecture me,” Dominic spat defensively. “How could you keep a secret like this from the rest of us? How could you not allow us to all choose which way the family should go? We should honor the deals made. You don’t bite the hand that feeds you.”

“I can forgive Stefano’s ambition. And you’ve been a good lap dog in his place.” The Vice President interjected calmly. “We’ve done our part to ensure that the possible future that our Seers have predicted doesn’t come to pass. Your job now, Julian, is to go home and reign in Marcello. Make sure he drops any sort of quest against the Anunnaki or the Roshaniya.”

Julian stared at Carissa’s son for a long, impenetrable moment. Finally, he leveled his eyes on the Anunnaki. “No.”

The Vice President’s brow subtly arched. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. I won’t do your dirty work anymore,” Julian said, simply.

The Vice President looked over at Dom Jr. “And you?”

Dom pulled his furious gaze from his cousin and looked at the Anunnaki. “I stand with my uncle.”

“Leave us, Dominic,” the Vice President said.

Dominic’s eyes flicked back and forth between his uncle and his cousin. “Don’t do this. It doesn’t have to go down like th—”

“You heard him, Dominic.” Julian looked over at his nephew for the last time. “Get the fuck outta here. And I pray to God your mother never knows that only one of her sons had a life worthy of her maiden name.”

Dominic’s jaw trembled, and his fists visibly shook. He stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

He was standing in the hallway, trying to let his Uncles words roll off his back, when the screaming started.

§

July 6, 1974 - 9:11 AM

Alcyone Island

Dion Corporation Headquarters

Not many people knew that a very important office could be found on the 52nd floor of the Dion Corporation building. Fewer still knew whose offices it was. That made the box that had been delivered strange in and of itself, but it took Marcello mere seconds to realize who would have sent it to him.

Security had done their checks on it and determined it was safe to open. Marcello pulled the letter opener off his desk and cut the tape loose. When he pulled the lid open, his eyes widened at the grotesque sight that greeted him. “Oh, my God.”

§

“Isabella, I am deeply, deeply sorry.” Marcello squatted down in front of his younger cousin’s chair. He covered her tightly clenched hands.

Dom Jr., her brother, was dead. Inside the box delivered to Marcello’s office just hours ago was his head. So was Uncle Julian’s.

Matteo stood at the window, his eyes slowly leaking silent tears. “Who did this Marcello?” he demanded quietly.

Isabella’s eyes shone wetly. She pressed trembling fingers against her mouth. A single tear came out of the corner of her eye, before the veil and control was found. At Matteo’s question, she brought those eyes to Marcello, silently asking the same.

Marcello glanced over at Matteo, then back at Isabella, coming to a decision. He stood up. “We’re a family of secrets and we’ve been keeping them from each other. What I’m going to share with you now cannot be shared with your brothers.”

“Tell us, Marcello.” Matteo turned away from the glass, his eyes landing on his cousin.

Isabella’s brow arched sharply. “What kind of secrets?”

Marcello regarded the two of them in brief silence before he spoke. “This started with my father and was given to yours. Even we Terenzios have a master, but it’s one we’ve already turned against.”

Chapter 6

“Think you can handle it? The day you look in the mirror and realize the evil that you’ll do?”

- Stefano Vasco Terenzio

October 18, 1994 - 6:22 PM

Alcyone Island

Cleona’s Italian Restaurant

The kids have their first play tomorrow night. Anne and I would love it if you could make it.” Nicholas Terenzio-Fidelio looked over at his lover.

Mario smiled softly. “I’d love to. Man, they grow up fast.”

“Yes, they do.” Nicholas leaned across the seat and kissed him. “Have a good night.”

Mario squeezed Nicholas’ thigh. “Enjoy your dinner meeting.”

“Unlikely.” Nicholas kissed him again, and climbed out of the car with his blazer in one hand. When he entered Cleona’s, Alcyone’s finest Italian restaurant, he put the jacket on. “Hello, Jimmy.”

“Ah, Mr. Fidelio. Miss Kayla is waiting for you.” Plucking up a menu, the maître d’ led Nicholas to the Terenzio family’s private booth. Kayla was sitting there, sipping a glass of white wine. She smiled politely at Nicholas and tilted her head up to accept the proprietary kiss he placed on her cheek.

“Thank you for coming. How are Anne and the kids?” Kayla asked.

“They’re fine.” Nicholas snapped open his menu. Once the maître d' had gone, he looked at Kayla. “What do you want?”

Kayla’s mouth curved into a smile. “Your Uncle Joey is always so polite. So is your mother. What happened to you and your father, I’ll never guess.”

“My Uncle doesn’t know when to shut up, and my father is an idiot,” Nicholas said evenly. “You’re right about Grandma Issa, though.”

“How are you and your father getting along these days?” Kayla watched him closely.

“We’re not.”

“Shame. And all over Mario.”

Nicholas’s eyes narrowed. “What do you want, Kayla?”

“If you had a choice between controlling the world or letting the world control itself, which would you choose?” Kayla asked casually, bringing her wine glass to her mouth.

A frown set on Nicholas’s face. “What the hell kind of question is that?”

“A very simple yes or no one.” A hint of impatience exposed itself in her tone. “Answer it.”

“My mother may have gotten married, but I am still a Terenzio, Kayla. That means we control the world, not the other way around.”

She made a thoughtful noise. “You’d be surprised.”

Nicholas arched a brow. “Meaning?”

“What if I told you, your children’s future was at stake due to poor management choices? Specifically made by your uncle and my father?”

Nicholas studied her face. At length, he said, “I’d tell you to keep talking.”

“Nicholas…” Kayla reached across the short distance that separated them and touched his hand. Inwardly, she flinched, but her distaste for the physical contact was well hidden. “For the majority of your life, your father has thought you a waste. I’d like to give you a chance to not only prove him wrong, but help me move this family in the direction it should be going.”

Nicholas stared at his water glass. Worthless, his father had always called him, and much crueler things before Dominic stopped acknowledging his son’s existence altogether. Nicholas had been strong enough to not give a fuck what his father thought, but a chance to really prove his worth and situate himself in a position of greater authority in the family was very, very appealing. He brought familiar gray eyes up to Kayla’s. “Maybe we should order something. I think we may be here for a while.”

§

October 18, 1994 - 6:22 PM

Alcyone Island

Home of Carissa Terenzio

*Dominic was irritated today, as he often was when he thought of what a colossal failure his son had become. He did not often think of Nicholas. Not after he'd caught him with... Shaking his head in disgust, Dominic forced the memory away and pushed open the door to his mother's home. It was Tuesday night, and he took her to dinner every Tuesday night. "Mother?" He called out from the foyer.

Carissa Marie Terenzio-Fidelio may have been eighty-four years old, but she never let that stop her. It was no surprise, then, that she was busy when her youngest arrived to take her to dinner. "Up here, Dom!" Looking at the clock in front of her and registering that it was already 7:30, she slipped her reading glasses off and rubbed the bridge of her nose lightly before getting to her feet to head for the top of the stairs.

Pulling the mail off the table in the foyer where it had yet to be retrieved, Dominic flipped through the envelopes as he climbed the staircase. "You spent the day in your office again, didn't you?" Dominic adored his mother. And it had festered over the years that Joey had been the favorite son. She didn't have to say it, and never would, his mother wasn't that type of woman; but he could see it. It was one of Dominic's many secrets that he had not been as sad as he'd pretended to be when Joey had finally died. Tucking that thought aside when he reached the top of the stairs, he met his mother’s gaze, leaned in, and kissed her cheek affectionately.

Carissa's face lit up, as it always did, at the sight of her son. Joey used to light her face up the same way, before he died. She returned the kiss, waving one hand dismissively. "I meant to spend some time gardening this afternoon, but time flies when you're terribly old." Amusement glimmered in gray eyes that were still as sharp as ever they had been. Examining her son's face, she lifted heavily wrinkled hands to cup his face between them. "You look tired, sweetie. You work too hard."

"Apparently, not hard enough if I can't keep up with you."

"Pfft." Carissa waved the thought aside with a dismissive noise. "You can't honestly expect me to believe that you wouldn't still be working if it wasn't Take-Mother-To-Dinner night," she chided gently. "You should spend more time with Maria,” she said, referring to Dominic’s wife. "We never know how much time we'll have with the people we love. Just look at your brother—" even now, her voice got a hair unsteady when she spoke of him. "Well, we didn't have nearly enough time with him."

A flicker of a shadow tainted the back of Dominic’s eyes. "Considering the path Joey took, we're lucky we got as much time with him as we did."

Carissa's brows shot up in disgruntled surprise, not only at those words, but at the look in her son’s eyes. She released his face and took a step back, frowning at him. "What is that supposed to mean, Dominic?"

"Nothing." Dominic brushed past her, walking towards her office. "I'm sorry. It doesn't matter." His jaw tensed. His brother didn't deserve his mothers’ pain, or her love. "Where do you want to go tonight?"

Carissa frowned a little more deeply. There was a small voice inside her head telling her—almost begging her—just to drop the subject, but she silenced it. "No, son. You said it. Obviously, you meant something by it. So, tell me why on earth you would be taking pot shots at your dead brother?" She almost flinched when she had to speak the word dead in connection with Joey. Time didn't heal all wounds—some were simply too deep.

Dominic dropped the mail on her desk, giving her his back and silence. His son was a disappointment. Agata wasn't strong enough to know the truth. His brother, a dead enemy. And his mother, this beautiful tower of strength, was misguided in her faith. He turned around, walking back out of her office and towards her. "Joey was on the wrong side. Joey spent his life a slave to the whims of a stupid man. Do you know how much of a Terenzio I am? The moves I've made, the shadows I've walked through? And for decades, Mother."

The blood drained slowly from Carissa's face. Joey? On the wrong side? The idea was ludicrous. Her voice was little more than a whisper. "What are you saying, Dominic? What have you done?"

"What have I done?" Dominic could feel himself snapping. He'd held himself in check for so long; tolerated all the love his mother had given Joey, while he had been left desperately wanting for the same depth of affection; tolerated the knowledge that Joey and Marcello were running the family into the ground. Dominic reached out, clasping his mother’s hands and pulling her towards him. "The right thing, Mother. Marcello was keeping secrets from you. About everything. He's fighting against a very powerful force that we should be siding with instead."

Carissa stiffened. For once, she truly looked old. "Dominic, no. I know. I know what Joey was doing. What Marcello asked of him. What they—we—were fighting against. Are fighting against. And now, you tell me that you... That my own son..." She shook her head, tearing her hands away from his and taking a step back, forced into silence by the horror of what she was only now beginning to fully understand. Not about Joey, but about Dominic himself.

Shock registered openly on Dominic’s face. She knew, and she was on the other side. Marcello's side. Joey's side. The lines around Dominic's mouth tightened, staring at his mother in a brief, incredulous silence. "I can't believe I'm hearing this. No, you know what, I refuse to believe I'm hearing this." He drew himself up and buttoned the front of his suit. "Get rea¬dy for dinner, Mother. We're going to talk, and by the end of the evening, you're going to get on the right side."

Carissa took one more step back from Dominic and shook her head with heavy finality. "I wish I could refuse to believe what I'm hearing, son. There will be no dinner. It's not me whose loyalties are grievously misaligned." She closed her eyes, as if she was unable to even look at him. Her voice was very quiet, and deeply sorrowed. "Oh, Dom. You've broken my heart."

She might as well have shot him. "I've broken your heart?!" Dominic came at her, grabbing her roughly by the shoulders. "Everything, everything I've done has been for you!" Tears burst from his eyes and he shook his mother hard. "I knew Uncle Julian wouldn't understand, and Dom Jr. was too stupid to make a choice for himself, but you! You! You take it back. You take it back right now, Mother. You're on the wrong side! Why can't you see that?!"

Through Dominic’s rage Carissa saw the small boy he had been, always craving her approval so deeply, always trying to outshine his big brother. Carissa wondered how she had been so blind, for so many years, to what Dominic was. She was hard-pressed to hold her own tears back, but she managed. "Don't you dare—don't you dare tell me that what you've done was for me. You've smeared mud on the memory of your elder brother. Joey loved you, he loved you. He wanted to make the world a better place—for you. For all of us." She stared at her son in silence for half a second, then shook her head and twisted her shoulders in the attempt to wrest them from his grasp. "Go. Just… go. Please."

Dominic’s fury flamed so hotly that he saw red. Joey. Joey. Joey. Always fucking Joey. Joey this. Joey that. She would not switch sides. She was looking at him the same way Uncle Julian had, right before he died. Dominic’s back teeth clenched. He didn't release his mother but forced her against him, so he could hug her, fiercely.

For an instant, Carissa pressed her forehead into his shoulder, wishing silently that it could have been different; wondering what she could have done differently. Dominic’s tears came harder. A low sob caught in his throat and ran silently down the length of his form. Then, he became the Terenzio he was and sucked it all back in. He stopped hugging his mother, but kept his hands on her shoulders. He kissed her cheek, tenderly. "I forgive you,” he whispered. "You'll forgive me, too." It didn’t require much force on his end; to shove his mother down the staircase.

Gravity took her, and the damning sounds of her tumble echoed out with no scream to punctuate them. When silence once again reigned, Carissa lay at the bottom of the stairs in a broken heap, dove-grey eyes gazing sightlessly upward toward her youngest.

Dominic’s shoulder hit the wall, and then he sunk down it until he was sitting at the top of the stairs, tears running in an open line down his face. Eventually, he wiped his tears on his sleeve and stood up to call 911.

§

May 21, 2000 - 1:12 PM

Alcyone Island

Marina Café

“What I really want is complete control of SVT Securities.” Olivia sat a table in the beachside café, the rush of the ocean quietly serenading the lunch goers.

Amadeo Terenzio sat across from her, his fingers laced behind his thick head of prematurely whitening hair. “You just want access to the black budget records.”

“Bet your ass I do. Marcello’s been up to something for years, and I think its bullshit we’re kept in the dark. If he’s making moves, we should all know about it.”

“And what if I told you what Marcello was up to?” The voice came unexpectedly. Dominic strolled up to their table, pulling out a chair and inviting himself to sit in it.

Amadeo quirked a brow. “We’d say thanks?”

Dominic chuckled, then grew serious. “Marcello, Matteo, and my brother have spent the last decade fucking up your legacy.”

Olivia slid her sunglasses down her nose, eyeing Dominic over the rim. “And how would you know that?”

“I discovered a letter, written to your Uncle, from Stefano.” He reached into the inside of his suit jacket, removing the old, folded piece of paper and pushed it across the table. “Then, I started snooping around on my own. Olivia, Marcello and your father are moving in the direct opposite of what the original heads of this family wanted.”

Olivia yanked up the letter, unfolding it to read it. “Oh, my God,” she whispered. She handed the letter to Amadeo. “It’s true?”

“All of it. There are classified SVT Security files that you can access that will prove it,” Dominic said.

“How do you have access? And is my father involved?” Amadeo asked after he had finished reading the letter.

Dominic passed them another, much smaller slip of paper. “Go look for yourself. And not to my knowledge, Amadeo.”

“This is bullshit. How the fuck can they justify keeping something like this so secret?” Olivia scooted back her chair, rising to her feet.

“Where are you going?” Amadeo watched his cousin.

“To find out what the hell is going on in this family,” Olivia said.

Amadeo scratched his jaw, and then pushed back his chair. “You’re going to hack into the SVT Security database. I’m coming with you.”

“I’ll be in touch,” Dominic said quietly, watching them hastily depart. When they were gone, a slow smile spread across his thin mouth. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, dialing a familiar number.

“Yes?”

“I’ve set them in motion. It won’t be long now.”

“They bought the letter?”

“Slightly altered to suit your goals, and yes, every word.” Dominic plucked up Olivia’s coffee cup, finishing it.

“Good. When they’re ready, send them to me.”

“Of course, Kayla.” He pulled the phone away from his ear, ending the call.

§

May 22, 2000 - 8:11 AM

Alcyone Island

SVT Security Headquarters

Completely ignoring the secretary, Olivia stormed into her father’s office, and slammed the door behind her, unconcerned that he was on the phone. “Why didn’t you tell me about the Brotherhood?”

Matteo quirked a stern, curious brow at his daughter’s abrupt entrance. His eyes narrowed at the words that flew out of her mouth. “Jules, let me call you back, my Olive is here. Thanks.” He hung up the phone, leveling his gaze on his daughter. “What are you talking about?”

“I found the letter.” She stalked across the office, coming to stand directly in front of his desk. “I used your password to access the SVT Securities files on them. What the hell are we doing, Dad?”

Anger clouded his dark gray eyes. “How did you get my password?”

“You’re not answering my question. This is bullshit. If the Brotherhood are the puppet masters controlling the world, we should be working with them, not against them.”

“Olivia, calm down. I don’t know what you think you read in that letter, or those classified files that are way above your security clearance, but there are forces at play here you know nothing about.”

Her chin setting stubbornly, she sat down in the chair in front of his desk. “Enlighten me.”

Matteo frowned and took off his glasses. “I’m not bringing you into this. This is need-to-know information and you are not at this time, meant to know. If Marcello chooses to widen the circle, then you’ll be informed. But until then, you will forget you ever saw those files.”

“It’s the wrong play, Dad. He’s going to end up burning our empire to the ground.”

“That is not your decision to make. And the elders of this family don’t agree with you.” Matteo’s voice hardened. “You will do it, Olivia.”

“No, I won’t,” Olivia snapped. “I’m not some mindless robot. This is my family, too. We should have a say—”

“Enough!” Matteo shot up out of his chair, pointing his finger down at her. “You are my daughter. Your loyalties lie with me and to whatever end game this family chooses to take. You will not disrespect me and shoot your stubborn fucking mouth off. Am I clear?”

Olivia clenched her fingers together to keep from pulling out the short strands of her bleached white hair. She remained silent, because she didn’t trust her voice.

“I’m not kidding, Olivia. Don’t test me on this. You will forget you ever saw those files and go about your fucking business. Cross me, and you can forget a future in SVT Securities. The highest rank you’ll get will be Director of Housekeeping for the hotel chain.”

Olivia surged to her feet, glaring at her father. “I’m not a child. You will not treat me this way.”

“No, what you are is a spoiled brat with selfish ambition.” Their gazes collided. “The moves this family makes now will impact the future of the world. It’s bigger than us, and Marcello is making the right choices. Accept it, or lie to yourself, I don’t care. But keep your fucking mouth shut. Capisce?”

Olivia held her fists at her sides, but the furious set to her father’s face prevented her from arguing further. The stupid, stubborn old man wouldn’t budge. “Fine.”

Matteo’s eyes narrowed. “You know what, Olivia, I’m your father and you’re going to afford me some of the respect I deserve that I rarely ask for. Say yes sir, and then get out of my office.”

It took a moment, but Olivia tempered down her own anger enough that she could respond. “Yes, father.” Without another word, she turned around and walked out.

§

May 22, 2000 - 10:44 PM

Alcyone Island

Former Shipping Warehouse

“I’m not just going to take this. This is bullshit.” Olivia paced, agitated.

“I agree with you, Olivia, but I’m not sure what we can do about it.” Amadeo stood with his back pressed against the wall of the old warehouse, his arms folded over his uniformed chest.

One of the heavy doors slide open, and Dominic stepped inside, pulling the door closed behind him. “Did you talk to Matteo?” he asked Olivia.

“Yes, and it was pointless. He’s a fucking slave to Marcello’s whims.” Olivia released a frustrated noise that echoed through the stale air. “He told me to forget about it and keep my mouth shut, or I’ll get demoted.”

“That’s unfortunate.” Dominic pressed his fingers against his chin. “You know, you would both be in positions very valuable to the Brotherhood if you were to take your fathers’ places.”

Amadeo snorted. “As much as we would love that, Dominic, our fathers aren’t going to hand over the reins anytime soon.”

“They’re both fucking useless.” Olivia waved a hand. “Dominic is right. We’ve got to find a way to muscle them out.”

“Or make them disappear.” Dominic offered, almost nonchalantly.

Olivia stopped pacing, turning to stare at Dominic. “Are you saying that we should kill our fathers?”

Dominic shrugged. “I didn’t say anything. But a move like that would certainly put you on the Brotherhood’s radar. And I have a few contacts inside that I’d feel comfortable approaching, should it happen.”

Amadeo frowned. “How the hell could we possibly get away with that?”

Olivia was silent, because she was thinking. “Car bomb. They go to brunch together every Sunday. We could do it then. They’d never check for it, not on their own island.”

Dominic said nothing, simply stood there a silent observer.

Amadeo raised a brow at Olivia. “You’re serious.”

Olivia hesitated, her brows pinching together. The arrogant echo of her father’s voice, threatening her future, demanding her obedience, rang in her ears, suffocating any emotion she might have felt. She nodded sharply. “You’re fucking right, I am. We’ve got to do something, Amadeo, before it’s too late.”

Amadeo was quiet for a short time, studying her. Then, he looked at Dominic. “You can guarantee we’ll be on the inside, if we pull this off?”

Dominic slowly smiled. “With 99% certainty.”

§

June 1, 2000 - 10:01 AM

Alcyone Island

Empire Cruise Line Headquarters

“Shut the door, Olivia.” Kayla sat behind her desk, watching the young woman walk forward. “Sit down.” Kayla tipped her head towards the seat in front of her desk.

Olivia was uncertain why Kayla, Marcello’s daughter, and the likely heir to the empire once Marcello passed on, had called for this meeting. Her ambition left her with several likelihoods she would love to see come to pass, but Olivia had no reason to think they would. Kayla was like her father; usually alone in their big tall towers, leading the family to its demise.

Kayla regarded Olivia in studious silence for what felt like hours, but was probably only a minute or two. When she could stand it no longer, Olivia broke the silence. “What can I do for you, Kayla?”

“You live up to the family arrogance, thinking you can do something for me.” Kayla’s tone was laced with faint amusement.

Olivia arched a perfectly plucked brow. “Well then, what do you want?”

Kayla’s eyes were a pale gray that was almost blue. They were similar to the color of Christopher’s eyes, except there was nothing kind in Kayla’s. Christopher had very expressive eyes. Kayla’s eyes, like her father’s, were a thick steel slate. “I want to know how it felt to murder your own father.”

Olivia’s heart sped up in her chest. Her breath might have held for a second, but her face did not break expression, save for the raise of her brow a little higher, with false incredulity. “Excuse me?”

Kayla smiled, pressing her chin into her palm, and set her elbow on the desktop. “Dominic tells me you want in, but membership into the Brotherhood is a little more… complicated than that. From now on, you and Amadeo will report to me.”

Olivia went very still and kept her expression carefully masked. Somehow, Marcello and Kayla had found out about their plans; or they suspected, but weren’t sure, and this was to lure her into a trap. She took the safe road. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about, Kayla.”

“Olivia, do you really believe that the reason I suddenly popped into Marcello’s life was because there was a hospital mix up the day of my birth?”

No, Olivia thought, she didn’t. But she was still wary of coming clean to Kayla. She would be stupid to underestimate Marcello’s reach, even if she thought his leadership skills were lacking. “Kayla, I don’t know anything about the Brotherhood—”

“Do you really think that the Brotherhood would have allowed Terenzio to be left unchecked all this time? If you want in, Olivia, it’s through me.”

Olivia studied her in brief silence. “How do I know I can trust you?

“You don’t. But if my loyalties truly did lie with Marcello and I knew that you had killed your father, we wouldn’t be having this conversation in my office, would we?”

Olivia paused again, considering her options. “Assume, for a moment, I do want into the Brotherhood. What’s the next step?”

“I’ll be in touch,” Kayla said impassively. “Moving forward, neither you nor your cousin will make a move without my permission. Chain of command is followed to the letter in the Brotherhood, and it is not a democracy. Am I making myself clear?”

“Crystal.” Excitement began to form in the pit of her stomach.

“Good.” Kayla smiled; a gesture that very rarely touched her eyes, except for those few occasions that Marcello made her genuinely smile. “Thank you for coming by.”

Tipping her head in the elder woman’s direction, Olivia rose to her feet, briskly walking out of the office. She kept her head lowered and her steps quickened down the carpeted hallways, and to the elevator. Once the doors safely enclosed her, she turned her back on the security camera, pulled out her cell phone and sent Amadeo a text message.

We’re in.

§

September 29, 2001 - 2:22 PM

Alcyone Island

Dion Corporation Headquarters

Marcello glanced over at the phone as its shrill ring pulled him out of his thoughts. He wasn’t plotting. He was remembering his wife. He pulled off his glasses, rubbed an aged hand over his bearded face, and then snatched up the receiver. “Yes?”

“Sir, Nicholas is here to see you.”

Marcello’s brows arched. “Send him up.” He put the phone back in its cradle and tossed his glasses carelessly onto the spotless surface of his desk. Moments later, Nicholas came in.

Marcello rose from behind his desk, coming around to embrace his cousin, who looked awful. Nicholas’ hair was mussed, as if he’d run his fingers through it too many times, and his eyes were bloodshot. He looked like a man who had just lost his family, Marcello noted with sympathy, though, he would never have expected Nicholas to come to him after such a tragedy. He cupped a hand around the back of Nicholas neck, studying his face. “How are you holding up?”

Nicholas gripped Marcello’s shoulders, meeting the elder Terenzio’s eyes. “I’m a member of the Brotherhood. I have been for eleven years.”

Marcello blinked. That was completely new news to him. Nevertheless, he didn’t release his cousin. “Why are you telling me this, Nicholas?”

“Because I want them to suffer for what they took from me.” Nicholas’s eyes shone wetly. “They didn’t even warn me, Marcello.”

Marcello sighed heavily as Nicholas began openly crying. They were angry, pain-filled tears. Marcello pulled his cousin into his embrace again. “It’s all right Nicholas. It’s all right. We’ll get them.”

§

November 11, 2006 - 11:11 PM

New Orleans, LA

Loyalty Airlines Airport

Matthew DeMarco slid into the back seat of the waiting Sedan. “Sorry it took so long. Everything all right?”

“The ’70s were difficult. The last thirty years have been interesting. I expect things will be a lot more exciting for my grandchildren.” Marcello stopped gazing out the window and looked over at Matthew. “The items my father had delivered to yours; it’s time to take them back.”

Matthew nodded. “There was only one working model. The rest were files.”

“Whose?”

“Tesla, Marconi, and Fulcanelli.”

“The first two I’ve heard of. Who was Fulcanelli?”

“Some call him the Master Alchemist. If you wanted to learn it, really learn it, he probably wrote the most authoritative book that’s allowed to circulate the masses.”

“Interesting.” Marcello clucked his tongue then looked back out the window. “No rush. I just wanted to put it in motion.”

“Of course.” Matthew studied his friend. “How are you holding up these days? We haven’t spoken much.”

“I’ve spent the last ten years trying to understand this ascension process, really understand it. And I can see the allure of the connection.” A quiet sadness filled Marcello’s eyes. “I miss my Mari very much. To know that she’s out there, in some form, and I’m not good enough to communicate with her is frustrating.”

“It’s not a matter of good, Marc,” Matthew interjected gently.

“I know. Blocked, then. I think it makes me miss her more. And not just her. Amanda. Joey. Everyone else.”

“Understanding the truth about death doesn’t make it any less painful. I think it’s only meant to shorten the time we grieve, give us some reassurance that our loves aren’t lost, simply not here.”

“Mm.” Marcello lapsed into a brief, thoughtful, silence. “Regardless, I’ve been on Earth too long without her.” He looked over at Matthew and extended his hand. “My job here is almost done. Thank you for always being a good friend, Matthew.”

As Matthew took Marcello’s hand, an odd expression crossed his face. “Marcello, there’s something I need to tell you.”

Marcello slowly shook his head. “Don’t Matthew. I know.”

Matthew quirked a brow. “You know what?”

“I know you killed Mari.” Marcello slowly frowned. “They made you prove it, didn’t they? Your loyalty. And what better way to assure them that you have no ties to the Terenzio family than to kill the Don’s wife, so to speak.”

Matthew swallowed hard. “I’m so sorry, Marcello. I tried to find a way around it—”

Marcello held up his hand. “And the bottom line was there wasn’t one. It’s a heavy burden to carry, isn’t it? Living with the evil that we’ll do for the sake of the future.”

Matthew slowly nodded. “Yes, it is.” He clasped Marc on the shoulder, squeezing gently. “You’re a good man, Marcello. Take care.”

Marcello nodded, watching Matthew climb out of the car.

Two weeks later, Matthew DeMarco was shot and killed while walking home after a late night at work. The police called it a robbery. Marcello called it even.

The Now

"We can't let things go on like this. The world needs to change."

-Marilyn Terenzio

Chapter 7

"The intuitive mind is a sacred gift and the rational mind is a faithful servant. We have created a society that honors the servant and has forgotten the gift."

-Albert Einstein

June 12, 2012 - 11:21 AM

S.V.T. Think Tank

Alexandria, VA

I need you to pull back to Corrediago Ortiz, Grams.”

“What’s the story, lovie?” Dr. Angela Knoxx, a.k.a Grams, pushed back the wide brim of her hat and peered at Derek through the small screen.

“Boss’s orders. He thinks that if we’ve found what we think we’ve found, the bad guys are going to come after you. So, back track until reinforcements get there,” Derek said.

“How long until reinforcements get here?”

“I’m not sure. He’s given us a hell of an assignment in the meantime.”

“Do tell.”

“I’ll send you all the details as soon as we get them. Robert should be here either today or tomorrow. And listen, I don’t want you guys to be idle, either. Do a little snooping and see what the locals know about the place. If you can get some hard evidence on where the Brotherhood of Light might be, all the better.” Grams had heard stories from the locals of a group of holy beings that had formed a coven, were hiding in the remains of the Mayan Cities, and called themselves the Brotherhood of Light.

Grams nodded. “I’m sure we can find something. All myths start from fact.”

“True. If you need anything else, just call.”

“Will do, lovie. How are things between you and my granddaughter?”

Derek spared a quick glance over at Shirley, where she stood with Abe. He smiled as he looked back down at the phone. “Just fine, Grams.”

“Don’t wait forever. Those are my words of wisdom for the day.” She winked. “We’ll let you know when we’re back in Ortiz.”

Derek cleared his throat, hoping his ears weren’t turning red. “I won’t. Wait forever, that is. It’s just not the right time. Talk to you soon Grams.” He quickly hung up, took a second to compose himself, and walked back into the lab. “Grams is going to break down camp. What are the results from my meditation session?”

“We were just talking about that. It’s actually pretty interesting.” Abe rolled the chair over to his computer screen and brought up the results. “The average adult takes twelve to twenty breaths per second. For the last fifteen minutes of your session, you were down to 5. Tibetan Monks can get theirs down to 3, so that’s impressive.” He glanced over at the amused look Shirley was giving him and shrugged. “I was curious so I Googled it. Anyway, we also saw increased blood flow to the brain, a decrease in stress hormones, and greater muscle relaxation. You were in a Theta brainwave state, commonly seen in people who are day dreaming. People are also prone to get a lot of creative ideas while in this state, which makes sense because we saw a serious increase in functional awareness. The left prefrontal cortex was also extremely active, and we all know that’s the part of the brain that mediates our moods and emotions.”

Derek walked over to the coffee maker and poured himself a cup while he listened. “What else?”

Shirley hip bumped Abe from the front of the computer, and picked up the stylus, touching it to the screen to move aside one window and bring forward another. “You started out visualizing, right?”

Derek nodded. “The chakras, like you suggested.”

“While you were doing that, your pineal gland was quite active. The pineal gland, that pine cone shaped gland in the center of our brain, produces melatonin and that affects our sleep/awake patterns. It’s also filled with water. Think back to the discussion we had about how the mind can affect water and that information becomes really interesting. It also has the same rods and cones on its interior that are found in your eyes,” Shirley said.

“I did not know that,” Derek admitted.

“It’s not common knowledge. The pineal gland, specifically yours while you were meditating, was producing Dimethyltryptamine, DMT.”

Derek’s brow lifted. “Like the DMT found in yopo and ajahusaca?”

“Those exact Shamanic potions. DMT is directly associated with time dilation, journeys to paranormal realms, even encounters with mystical beings,” Shirley said.

Derek gave a little shake of his head. “Wow.”

“From what I’ve briefly read, your experience, on a biological level, is pretty standard.” Shirley dropped the stylus, turning to look at Derek. “Studies are showing that people who continue this practice for years are actually making the brain stronger, in the same way you exercise your muscles. This also directly relates to body functions, like your nervous system.”

“I did not know meditation could be so effective in improving yourself.” Derek took a thoughtful sip from his coffee mug. “That’s really fascinating.”

“How was it for you?” Abe asked.

“I really enjoyed it. There were some moments of utter stillness, and peace. I felt loved. I felt a lot of love, actually, and I don’t know where it came from. I also had this feeling…” He paused, searching for the right word. “It’s hard to explain. Like there was something just beyond my consciousness, and I was approaching it. But I couldn’t tell you what that was. Just a sense of something otherworldly.”

“How do you feel now?” Shirley asked.

“I feel great,” Derek said, smiling. “Despite the magnitude of what’s going on around us, I feel very relaxed and very clear.”

“Well, hang onto that brain power, buddy. We’re going to need it, if we’re going to build something of Nicola Tesla’s six times in less than six months.” Abe stacked his feet up on the table.

“Why don’t you go try it?” Derek suggested.

“I think that’s a great idea.” Shirley looked over at Abe.

Abe pursed his lips together in thought, eyeballing the Orgone Accumulator. “Nah. Not yet. Why don’t you go for it, Shirley?”

“Chicken.” Shirley teased, but took off her lab coat. “I’ll go.”

§

Earth Day - June 13, 2012 – time does not exist here

Hevan

Machanon City

Hevan was simply stunning. Alex found its otherworldly beauty incomparable. Everything held a consciousness, and here you could really feel it. The trees looked life-like in their tall, reverent silence, beckoning a companion to share stories with. Buildings of smooth white stone and sparkling crystal dotted hills and decorated valleys. The sky was so unlike that of Earth’s. It was an infinite window, an unobtrusive view of the beauty of the cosmos. Hevan’s two purple moons hung low and majestically in the sky, surrounded by slyly winking stars whose light challenged the black backdrop they sat against.

“Gabriel and I love this view.” Archangel Michael walked out onto the balcony and stood next to Alex, smiling serenely.

Alex’s brows furrowed in amusement, right before his laughter came. “Forgive me, Michael, I’m just not used to hearing that.”

Michael smiled. “I know. It would be quite sacrilegious in your world to go around spreading rumors that Michael the angel has spent the last three hundred years with a male angel.”

“You can just imagine the uproar from certain religious factions,” Alex said through his laughter.

“Your race is going to get quite the kick out of the real stories.” Michael’s eyes glowed with his humor as he showed Alex into the sitting room.

“I have to say, I’m a little surprised to be here, Michael. I was told the Brotherhood of Light, or rather the Ascended Masters, sent for me.” The Ascended Masters were twelve souls that had broken through the veil and been able to manifest their projected realities instantly. Jesus, whose very existence had come into question thanks to the clever manipulation of the Anunnaki, and the Brotherhood, was the most famous example of those men and women.

“They did, but since it is such a busy time on Earth, they implored me to share this information with you,” Michael said.

Alex nodded once. “Do you mind if I have a cigar while we speak?”

“Not at all. I’ll have one with you.”

Alex removed two Cao golds and Michael used the tip of his finger to light both before he continued. “As unfortunate as violence is, on a soul level, the thirteen members of the Brotherhood have agreed to be forcefully removed from their current lifetime.” Before coming into physical form on planet Earth, some souls had chosen to pick how their bodies would die.

“So, we can proceed as planned.”

“Yes. Your weather predictions are nearly accurate. There will be some minor earthquakes, and flooding, but nothing of disastrous proportions; small hiccups as the Earth aligns with the Dark Rift, the center of your galaxy. It is extremely important the Terenzios accomplish their mission, especially where ELMINT is concerned.”

Alex nodded. “I assumed as much.”

“The destruction of the Global Satellite System and electrical grids worldwide will open the door to the new technologies of the future.”

“There is some concern as to how we will be able to communicate during that juncture.”

“The Sirians, while wishing primarily to just observe, have agreed to donate the devices you’ll need.” When Michael released the smoke from his cigar, a pair of wings formed in the thin wisps.

Amusement drifted briefly over Alex’s face. “What’s in the Cave of Creation, Michael?”

Michael smiled. “The most important part of all of this. The Akashic Records are there. If it is not opened, the activation energy that will come from the Dark Rift will be nearly pointless.”

Alex’s eyes widened. “So, they do exist.” The Akashic Records were the history of every soul on the planet. Not just memories, but thoughts, feelings, intentions, reaching all the way back to the dawn of creation. The humans of Earth had lived in a state of forgetfulness about life before their birth. The limitation of their knowledge had been necessary, but that time was quickly passing.

“Of course, they do. There is not a race in the cosmos that does not have their own Akashic Records. There is a very, very large one, safe guarded by the Pleiadians that contains the memories of the source itself.”

“That must be an amazing sight.” Alex puffed on his cigar, his exhalation of smoke not nearly as entertaining as Michael’s. “This will work, yes? The Ascension?”

Michel smiled reassuringly. “To speak in mathematical terms, the vibration of a fully awake human is so powerful that it only requires 144,000 people, worldwide, to be able to carry the light of love, twenty fours a day, seven days a week, to push you past the veil. You reached that number in 2010, a few months after the oil spill in your Gulf of Mexico. It will happen, Alexandro. Do not fear.”

“I know I shouldn’t worry, but no man, or other race, will give up control so easily. Especially when he claims dominion over so much.”

“Let Enki and me concern ourselves with that.”

Alex slowly nodded. “Would you answer a few questions I have?”

“Of course.”

“Has the Peruvian door always been a, well, portal to your world?” In Southern Peru, in the Hayu Marca mountain region, a place local Indians called “City of the Gods,” was a door carved out of natural rock. Alexandro had used the door and the required key, a small square stone tablet engraved with unique writing that Alexandro suspected was the language of the Angels, to travel to Hevan.

Michael smiled. “Yes. Centuries ago, we spoke frequently with the people who lived in that region. When Enlil found out, he had the key hidden away. We were quite pleased when your allies stole it back.”

Alex chuckled. “Liliana was very good at that. One last question, what is the true meaning of a fallen angel?”

Amusement drifted across Michael’s face. “I’m a fallen angel, Alexandro. Or, I was.”

Alex quirked a brow. “I’m very interested to hear the story behind that.”

“Long before the Anunnaki visited your race, the Angels and the Anunnaki shared a love of war-mongering. We were a military people, almost like your Spartans. We were bred to be beautiful, strong, civilized warriors of the sky and ground. Our King was Samael, the best of us. He had a young face, always wore a flowing cloak around his wings, and had long red hair tied to a ponytail. A pentagram was engraved on his breastplate. He was an Angel of Death, one of the fiercest warriors I have ever seen, and my teacher for a time.” A faraway look came to sit in Michael’s eyes. “I shall never forget him. “

“You are not a war-mongering people now. What happened?”

Michael looked back at Alexandro and his mouth quirked. “Lilith and Lucifer. Our own Jesus and Mary, you might say. We had no faith, no spirituality of any sort, until they came along. It was Lilith who opened up our Akashic records and made us see. She did this during the time we and the Anunnaki were on your planet. We were assisting the Anunnaki in their mining efforts and enslaving you. Lucifer, who was not only spiritual, but a brilliant scientist, worked closely with Enki in E.Den. He taught a great many things to the Anunnaki Magi about Alchemy. Once the Angels started awakening, though, we realized we needed to change. Samael did not awaken initially, and of course, he was furious. He and the Anunnaki rose up against us. Around the time of your great flood was one of the great wars in the galaxy. For a short period, myself and thousands of other angels were cast out of Hevan; the fallen Angels. Eventually, Samael, too, realized that we were only disconnected from the Source of all things, laid down his arms against us, and stepped down from the throne. We elected Lilith as our new queen, and she and Anu signed a treaty of peace.”

Alexandro felt like a child listening to a fantastic fairy tale. He leaned forward in his chair, his cigar forgotten. “Why is there such animosity towards Lucifer? I know the bible is a misconstrued blend of truth and pure fiction, but he is quite hated.”

Michael nodded. “So is Lilith. In your culture, you think of her as a demoness. It is because of a love story. Belial was Enlil’s best friend, a great Anunnaki warrior. On his visits to Hevan, he developed feelings for Lilith. He became seduced by her beauty, you could say. He was so enamored of her, he even asked for a way to change into an Angel so he could be with her. She refused to even approach Lucifer with the subject, because her love was for Lucifer. Belial wasn’t pleased by this. Anunnaki do not like hearing that there are things they cannot have. He challenged Lucifer during the war, and Lucifer killed him. Enlil was furious, of course.”

Alex whistled lowly. “There is so much we just don’t know.”

“Soon, Alex.” Michael patted him on the knee. “Come with me. I would like to introduce you to Gabriel before you leave, and I have a gift for you to take home to Tony.”

§

June 13, 2012 - 5:55 PM

Denver, Colorado

Denver International Airport

The Denver International Airport was another prime example of how the Brotherhood hid in plain sight. Tony stood out on one of the runways that were usually inactive, except when the Brotherhood needed them, waiting for Caesar. Conspiracy theorists had a field day with this place, and as usual, they got a lot of the information correct. The runways were constructed in the shape of a swastika. While the Nazis had given the symbol some really bad PR, before Hitler decided to use it, the swastika was the archetype for the rotations of time and consciousness. It had also been used by the Hittites and Celts and was found on the buildings on ancient sites like Troy. Aside from the runways, and the fact that the airport sat on top of a major underground military installation called Blue Moon, the inside of the Airport was another anomaly that often had people scratching their heads. A Masonic capstone sat in the south eastern side of the terminal which had been coined The Great Hall. The capstone was said to be a time capsule filled with completely insignificant things; that, of course, being a lie. An arm bent at a 45 degree angle rose out of the capstone, and at the end of the arm was a keypad. There was some significance to a 45 degree angle because of its practical ability to illustrate the law of the conversation of energy. Energy could be neither created nor destroyed. It simply was, sitting there, waiting for something to tell it what to do. Aside from the hidden symbology, when the proper code was keyed in, the capstone opened a portal directly to the Anunnaki vessel, the Babel.

Flicking the cigarette he was finished smoking to the pavement, Tony tracked the approaching sedan’s movement as it came to a stop and Caesar climbed out.

Caesar was worked up. Ever since he received the order to return to Alcyone and finish off the triplets, he’d done nothing but think about what he was going to say to Vasco before he killed him, and how he was going to kill him. When he saw Tony, some of his excitement began to fade. He didn’t like DeMarco much, and hated having to report to him. “Joining me, sir?”

“Change of orders.”

Caesar’s steps came to an abrupt halt. “Excuse me?”

Tony’s eyes narrowed slightly, and he took a step closer to Caesar. “Change of fucking orders.”

Caesar reined himself in. DeMarco outranked him, and that meant everything in their world. “I’m listening. Sir.”

“Integrate and observe. Keep reporting back. Allow Kayla to keep handling Olivia and Amadeo as she sees fit. Keep the body count at zero, right now.” Tony lightly slapped Caesar’s cheek. “You’ll get your chance to kill ’em soon enough.”

Caesar wanted to growl in frustration, but called upon his patience. There was little else he could do. Orders were orders. “Yes, sir. What about the scientists?”

“Don’t worry, we’ll take care of ’em.” Tony stepped aside. “Have a nice flight.” He watched the rigid line of Caesar’s back as Caesar walked up the staircase and disappeared inside the cabin of the plane.

Tony turned around. It was a lucky fucking thing for them that not all the Anunnaki were opposed to freeing humanity. He shook out another cigarette as he climbed into his SUV. Just as the engine turned over, a low growl from the backseat made the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Lifting his eyes to the rearview mirror, Tony saw the hulking, ugly Igigi. Resembling the mythical gargoyles, Igigis were the Anunnaki’s personal messengers.

“You can’t find a better way to announce yourself?” Tony scolded. He hated talking to Igigis. They spoke telepathically, and the noise that invaded his mind was hoarse, and downright eerie.

The Igigi looked at Tony with its glowing red eyes. You are being bestowed with the highest honor. Report to the Holy See the day of the Summer Solstice.

Tony slowly nodded. “Thanks. I’ll be there.”

The Igigi didn’t linger for conversation. It pushed open the door to Tony’s car and took off into the early evening. Usually, Igigis moved so quickly that people rarely saw them. If people did, they quickly brushed the sighting off as nothing.

Tony leaned his head back against the headrest and lit up his cigarette. He was a 33rd degree Illuminati, one level below his brother. Most people believed that the degrees stopped at the 33rd, but they were wrong. Once the 33rd degree of Free Masonry ended, the Seeker then became Enlightened, Illuminated, an Illuminati. Not all 33rd Masons were accepted into the real brotherhood. It was the first level of real trust, and the only one Tony needed. For a decade, now, he’d run a black ops division of the NSA, usually right out of the Blue Moon Base. With this promotion, he’d be given the security clearance needed to get Simone into the underground bases, and Vasco into the Brotherhoods party the night of the solstice.

Tony took a hard drag off his cigarette and slowly frowned. It also meant something horrific was going to happen. By his hands.

§

June 14, 2012 - 10:44 AM

Alexandria, VA

SVT Think Tank

Robert Terenzio carried his mother’s features, and his father’s love of science. He was the only one— an anomaly, really—that came from Liliana Terenzio’s bloodline and had turned to neither business nor weapons, but to academia. This was not to say he didn’t know how to use a gun. He was an excellent shot, thanks to his mother’s insistence that he learn. He also loved a good chess game. He just wasn’t the violent sort.

He was slightly overweight, but smart with his wardrobe. Going to the gym twice a week was only helping slightly, because like a good Italian, when it was meal time, it was meal time. He was of average height, with his father’s thick eyebrows, and dark brown hair. His eyes were also green, not gray—another anomaly. Regardless of his few differences, his mother was proud of him, which never failed to provide him with a little-boy-like delight, and Marcello had considered him an asset. Though Marcello had been closely involved in SVT Think Tank, Robert had often come up with the more ingenious security enhancements that had allowed SVT Securities to collect information more secretively and efficiently. Maybe he wasn’t that far off the marker, after all.

Six Omega Cadre trailed Robert as he entered the SVT Think Tank. They wore full combat gear, but for propriety’s sake had left their assault rifles in the SUV. Each carried dual .40 mm handguns at their waists, and the expression on every man’s face, and the one woman’s, was hard and alert. The Omega Cadre were not simply muscled idiots that were only useful when being told what to do. Omega General Tia Kahlo was a hardass, but intelligent. Stupidity on any level was unacceptable. If a soldier couldn’t think for him- or herself, they got voted off the island real quick.

That knowledge help put Robert’s safety concerns at ease, because two of the Cadre carried a thick, closed container. It contained a very powerful weapon that had been stolen, over a century ago, from the Brotherhood by Stefano’s sister, Liliana, at her brother’s request. The weapon had been built by Nikola Tesla himself, and in a briefcase handcuffed to Robert’s arm were the blueprints that the Terenzios needed to make more of them. For Robert, working on a design by Nikola Tesla was like writing a bestselling novel or winning the Super Bowl; amazing and damn near surreal. Considering how solid their team of scientists was, building five more was going to be a lot of fun.

§

Abe threw open the door to the accumulator, sweating. “Holy fucking shit.”

Shirley and Derek looked up from where they were monitoring Abe’s meditation session on the computers. “I’ve got to hear this,” Shirley said.

“What happened, Abe?”

“I don’t know.” Abe walked quickly over to the water cooler, and drained three paper cups before he could speak. “I felt… I felt this explosion. A surge of energy racing up my spine, and it exploded from the top of my head, and I could pretty much see it, but my eyes were closed.”

Shirley smiled reassuringly and walked over to him, rubbing his back comfortably. “Easy there, big fella.”

“Was it uncomfortable?” Derek asked, watching him closely.

“No.” Abe frowned. “I laughed at first, it felt so good. But then it just kept going, and I felt like I was going to float away or something. The energy just kept coming, and it finally freaked me out a little.” He turned back to the cooler and filled up the paper cup again, draining the water in a quick gulp.

“I think you just had a Kundalini activation,” Shirley said.

Derek grinned faintly. “That’s pretty funny that the skeptic out of the group gets one of those.”

Abe eyed Shirley. “What the hell is a Kundalini activation?”

“The medical symbol, the caduceus, is actually a representation of a Kundalini awakening. Kundalini energy is said to coil like a serpent at the base of the spine, and when awakened it spirals upwards, and merges with the crown chakra. Supposedly it’s a very powerful form of awakening,” Shirley said.

“Potentially dangerous, too, from the few things I just read, because the energy is so powerful. You’re going to want to meditate pretty frequently now, Abe,” Derek cautioned.

“I bet him being in the accumulator helped eased some of the physical symptoms.” Shirley looked at the machine, then back at Abe. “You’d probably be really freaking out right about now if not for the accumulator.”

Abe rubbed a hand across his jaw. “Great. I’ve officially lost it.”

Derek chuckled. “Or finally gotten it.”

“I’m jealous. I didn’t have a Kundalini activation when I went,” Shirley huffed.

Just then, the elevator doors dinged opened. Robert and his Cadre came crowding into the lab. He smiled warmly and excitedly. “Geek squad.” It was his affectionate term for the three scientists. “Ready for the mother of all projects?”

“Does it come with a raise?” Shirley teased as she stepped forward to kiss Robert’s cheek.

“You bet we are.” Derek said, rubbing his hands together. Abe nodded at the group and got himself another cup of water.

“If you can build it, I’ll definitely consider it.” Robert directed the Cadre to set the container on one of the empty tables, and then put the briefcase, still chained to his wrist, next to it. It took Robert a few moments to get himself detached, and then pull out Tesla’s blueprints and spread them across an empty table.

Derek slid his glasses on, and Shirley and Abe stood next to him, looking down at the intricate drawings and instructions.

“What do you think?” Robert asked after a few minutes.

“This is amazing,” Shirley said, barely above a whisper.

“It can really do that?” Abe looked over at the container that was still closed, and then back at the blueprints.

Derek rubbed the back of his neck and looked up at Robert. “Once we get the nomenclature down, and with a working model to follow, this shouldn’t be too hard, actually.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear.” Robert smiled and took off his blazer. “Let’s get started.”

Chapter 8

“An invasion of armies can be resisted, but not an idea whose time has come.”

-Victor Hugo

June 20, 2012 - 10:11 AM

Alcyone Island

Dion Corporation Board Room

Vasco stood in front of the long window that exposed a calm ocean from the 47th floor of the Dion Corporation building. It was time to shake things up, plant a few seeds, and pull back the curtain on a few motives. It was time to let the entire family know what direction it would be taking over the next six months.

“I like this first order of business. Dear Family, for a few decades, we’ve been secretly at war with this race of aliens that controls the world. We’re about to put the smack down. In or out.” Lucien sat to the right of Vasco’s chair, which was at the head of the table, and lit up a cigarette.

“I can’t wait to see the look on Amadeo’s and Olivia’s faces.” Simone’s dark gray eyes glittered with the hard edge of anticipation.

“Think Kayla will crack? I’m betting she doesn’t even blink,” Lucien said.

“I’m a lot more curious as to who they contact first,” Vasco said, turning away from the window. The three of them would have to tread carefully, but they had decided it would be impossible to move the family in the direction they needed to while they were under the cover of shadow. They didn’t have a lot of time, and things would move a lot faster if they could operate out in the open. The only reason they were not going to take Olivia, Amadeo and Kayla out of play was because doing so would lead to questions as to how they knew, and that might point a finger back at DeMarco. It was imperative that they keep their relations with that family secret, so DeMarco could continue to operate from the inside.

A light rap came on the conference room doors, before Caleb pushed one open and stepped inside. He walked up to the table and updated them without preamble. “We’ve run the preliminaries on what you’re looking at from your army, and it’s good. They’re not so loyal to Amadeo alone that you’ll lose all of them should it go that route. Half, at most. The air force is utterly loyal to Archer, Isabella and Christopher.”

Involuntarily, the faintest trace of a smile sneaked onto Simone’s mouth when Caleb came into the room. It faded away in the next breath, replaced by the more serious expression from the news he was feeding them. He was proving his worth a thousand times over, and she wondered where the hell she’d been that she hadn’t noticed what an asset he obviously had been to Grandfather. Plus she just generally liked him. “What about the Omega Cadre?”

Caleb looked over at Simone. “Yours without question.” There was double meaning in that sentence, but she wouldn’t know that. Yet.

“And Olivia’s sector of SVT Sec?” Vasco asked, moving to sit down.

“Trickier to quietly get information on. At this point, we have to assume that the agents she’s in direct contact with will follow her lead. The others will do as you say,” Caleb said.

“So, unless they bring in outside forces, if it goes down like that, they’re out numbered,” Lucien said blowing a thick cloud of smoke into the well ventilated air.

“Exactly.” Caleb looked over at Lucien, then spread his gaze between the three of them. “The Worthington twins, your best spies, will be split up. One on Olivia, the other on Amadeo.”

“We’re about to find out how good our spies really are,” Vasco said, sipping from his coffee mug. “Taps in place at Amadeo’s and Olivia’s houses?”

“They will be while they’re in this meeting. We’ve got to assume that they have their own people watching out. We’ve identified a few point guards, but I suspect there may be more. If everything goes as planned, they’ll be fully bugged by the time they walk out of here,” Caleb said.

“Which means something will go wrong and they’ll be halfway bugged, at most.” Vasco set his elbow on the arm of the chair and pressed his fingers against his temples. “Make sure they don’t risk exposure.”

“You’re such a wet dream killer, V,” Lucien said good naturedly, though he agreed with his brother; nothing ever went according to plan.

“Half is better than nothing. DeMarco and Xavier will fill in the gaps as need be. And don’t forget we’ve got Nicholas, too,” Simone said as she reached out and stole Vasco’s coffee mug. She eyed Caleb over the rim. “You look tired.”

Caleb smiled lightly at her. “Never.” He sobered quickly and looked at the two brothers. “I’m going to go make sure everything is in place for the hundredth time. I’ll update you all after your meeting.”

“Thank you Caleb,” Vasco said.

“I second that. You’re a good man, Kincade.” Lucien gave him a little salute, then crushed his cigarette.

“Just doing my job. But you’re right, I am.” Caleb smiled again, allowed it to briefly linger in Simone’s direction, and left the room.

There was a small tinge of arrogance in that smile of his, and Simone noticed it. She hid her own answering smile behind another stolen sip of her brother’s coffee. She’d loved that about Kyle, too, once upon a time; that cockiness that he had worn so well. And she needed to stop making those comparisons, immediately, Simone mentally scolded herself. That was a chapter in a lifetime she wasn’t living in anymore. There was no time for that in this.

Vasco didn’t miss the subtleties between his sister and Caleb. He had come to a quiet understanding, too, about why Marcello had left it in his hands when Caleb should reveal himself to Simone. He was a little surprised, frankly, that Simone had not made the connection herself. But as much as he wanted to throw her that line and give her that brief bit of happiness, he couldn’t. Not yet. They needed to move a few more things into play. They needed to be focused, centered, and utterly committed to what they were about to undertake before he let that kind of emotion wreak havoc on her sensibilities. It was an utterly Stefano-like call. Marcello had turned out to be anything but a disappointment.

Pulling back into the present, Vasco looked over at his siblings. “Lets go over these topics again. And try not to get into a fight with Amadeo, Lucien.”

Lucien stacked his feet up onto the table and pulled the laptop into his lap, grinning faintly. “I’ll give it my best.”

§

June 20, 2012 - 10:50 AM

Alcyone Island

Dion Corporation Headquarters

Kayla Terenzio never understood the concept of loss; until the day her mother died. She could describe it in no terms other than a heavy, aching weight in her heart; the same she felt today, standing in her deceased pseudo-father’s office. She leaned against one of the full glass windows that overlooked the tropical city of Alcyone. Memories plagued her, not just of Marcello, but her mother, too. Their voices haunted her. The letter Marcello had left her, that she had read once and knew every word of, made the strike of emotion flare up with more frequency.

Kayla turned from the window, pressing her fingers to her mouth as her dark eyes traveled over his space. A fond memory came to her, insignificant in the grand scheme of the world, but important to her.

Marcello was perched on the end of the round table, next to Kayla’s chair. He said something that caused what appeared to be full, genuine laughter to take over Kayla’s face. Marcello’s eyes visibly gentled, and sadness came to mingle with his clear affection for her. “You look so much like your mother.”

Kayla never felt like she was a part of this family. Even knowing she was Marilyn’s daughter, she didn’t feel that way. She wanted to, because she’d loved her mother fiercely. Her father’s words stirred up unexpected emotion inside of her, sitting quietly behind her programming. She smiled tremulously up at Marcello. “Really?”

Marcello returned her smile, nodding slowly. “Especially when you smile.”

Kayla watched Marcello, the faraway look that leaked into his eyes. “Do you miss her a lot?”

Marcello pulled away from some fond memory and brought his gaze back to her. “As much as I know you loved her, I’d have to selfishly say, more than you can imagine.”

Kayla had believed him. She would have believed him, even if she hadn’t seen him the day her mother had died. But, as horrible as that day had been for her—for Marcello—it was on the night her mother died that, for whatever reason, Kayla’s aversion to being touched by Marcello had vanished.

Kayla remembered waking up screaming. She’d never known what for; the moment consciousness took hold the images of the dream vanished, but her feelings of terror lingered. Usually, her mother was the one to chase those nightmares away. She’d been surprised when the door to her room opened, and Marcello was there. His arms folded protectively around her, and Kayla remembered that her reaction shocked her. She didn’t like it when men touched her, not even her gentle, half-brother Demetrius. The man with the funny smell that had been her initial teacher had taken care of that. But when Marcello stroked her hair and hugged her tightly, she did not feel her skin crawling or that flair of panic that told her to get away from the touch as soon as she possibly could. Instead, she’d burrowed into his chest and pretended that she was his daughter, he was her father, and that she was safe. The only thing in life that she had learned to look forward to after her mother died, was a hug from Marcello.

Kayla sighed into the empty space and ran her fingers over his desk. His daughter. That’s what he’d called her. Except she was not his. She was not made in the act of love. She had been made in a violent act of cruelty and cunning. She was a product of rape; her mother drugged and taken by a man Marcello had tracked down and killed. Yet, knowing that—knowing that she had been part of Project Mannequin, sent there to keep Marcello in check and to possibly kill him, they loved her. Both of them. Her mother had been an incredibly strong, gentle woman. Marcello was a quietly imposing man, quick with affection, especially in the privacy of his house. It was because of them that Kayla knew the definition of love; that it was real and existed as palpable as the breeze carried off the ocean. Kayla could recall in great detail how her parents looked at each other, how a man who ran an empire would find time for family, specifically for his wife. Kayla vividly remembered mornings when she’d woken to the sound of their laughter and crept downstairs to watch them engaged in some mundane act of early morning domesticity, teasing each other, touching, or simply quietly existing in the same space.

It was those memories that made her want to do as Marcello had asked her.

Maybe the NWO’s programming was breaking down. Except Kayla knew that was not the case either. She felt compelled, even while visiting the past in her mind, to destroy the Terenzios. That was, after all, what she was made for. She could not deny that something inside of her thrilled at the game she played against them.

“Do you miss him?”

Kayla turned around sharply. Vasco stood in the doorway.

It was a distinct possibility that Vasco knew about her; that Marcello had told the triplets. If they wanted, they could take her into custody. Kill her, if they so choose. It made the game she played even more dangerous. If they did know about her, but left her in play, the why was a very, very important question. She would have to be even more careful than she had been.

His question, though, was easily answered. “Yes,” she said truthfully.

“Me, too,” Vasco said quietly, trailing those family eyes around his grandfather’s—son’s—space. After the brief silence, he looked back at Kayla. “Everyone’s moving into the boardroom now. Meeting is in five.”

“I’ll walk with you.” The memories vanished in the wake of Kayla’s job, and her ultimate motive. Marcello, like her, mother was dead. There was no one left to stop the nightmares, now, and she could not do as Marcello requested of her. Even if she wanted to, Caesar would never allow it.

“I hope you don’t feel stiffed, Aunt Kay; that we’re in a place you probably wanted,” Vasco said as he held open the office door for her, pulling it shut once she had stepped through.

Kayla shook her head. “Not at all, Vasco. To be honest with you, I didn’t want it. Not the stress of all this. I’m too old to take those reins. You, your sister, and your brother will handle it just fine.” She smiled convincingly.

“I think we will, too.” Vasco shot her a sideways glance, returning her smile. “Thanks, for the vote of confidence, though.”

Inwardly steeling herself for how uncomfortable the contact would make her, Kayla looped her arm through Vasco’s as they stepped into the elevator. “Of course. Isn’t that what family is for?”

Amusement flickered through Vasco’s eyes. “Amadeo and Olivia must have missed that lesson.”

“They’ll learn. Eventually.”

§

June 20, 2012 - 11:00 AM

Alcyone Island

Dion Corporation Headquarters

Seated around the long conference table was every blood Terenzio. Isabella sat at the head of the table, opposite the triplets. Christopher sat on her left. Agata came in with her father, Dominic, and they chatted quietly while the others filed into the room. Nicholas came in shortly after his father and sister, smiled briefly at Agata, ignored Dominic, and sat down. Kayla sat next to Simone, and the two talked about mundane things while they waited for Olivia and Amadeo, who both arrived ten minutes later.

“Nice of you to join us,” Lucien said.

Amadeo rolled his eyes. “Some of us work, Lucien.”

“All right, Vasco, we’re all here. Why?” Dominic asked, lacing his thick fingers together and looking pointedly at his cousin.

“To inform you all of the new direction this family will move in.” Vasco flicked his eyes around the table.

“Well, it’s not really new, but we’re bringing it out in the open,” Lucien amended.

“What new direction?” Agata asked.

“This is going to be a lot to swallow all at once. It should come as no surprise that there are some very powerful men who control the world, and they use criminal organizations like us to do their bidding. They call themselves the Brotherhood. Stefano Terenzio obtained this island by making a deal with them. His end goal, however, was not subservience. He joined them so that, one day, we could turn around and beat them. That time is now.”

Agata’s brows arched. She appeared to be the only one outwardly affected by this news. The rest of the family didn’t look so surprised. Only Olivia’s gaze darkened slightly.

“We’re listening, Vasco,” Isabella said quietly.

Vasco nodded once at the eldest Terenzio. “Stefano set the foundation. Grandfather—Marcello—spent his life collecting information on them. Eventually, something pushed him to turn his hand against them openly.”

“Why did Dad do that?” Kayla asked, her impenetrable gray eyes studying Vasco.

“We don’t know,” Simone easily lied. “That was never made clear to us.”

“We know that before Julian and Dom Jr. died, the family did a lot of jobs for the Brotherhood. After they died, that all seemed to stop. We can speculate that something happened during that period,” Vasco said.

“What type of work did we do for them?” Dominic asked. He knew, of course, but he wanted to know how much the triplets knew.

Lucien looked over at Dominic. “After WWII, top Nazi scientists were smuggled out of Germany into the U.S. and United Kingdom. They called it Paperclip, and we assisted with that.”

Dominic whistled lowly. “My, my, when you said controlling the world, you weren’t kidding.”

Vasco nodded. “Our entire existence, we’ve done as we pleased, or thought we have. We’ve battled petty, criminal groups for a piece of the pie and muscled out the weakest links. We set our sights on the world, because our ambition just runs that high. Now, we’re going to use everything we’ve built up to help humanity.”

Olivia rolled her eyes. “We, the Terenzio family, are going to save the world?”

“Well, at least give them a shot at saving themselves,” Lucien said.

“We’re on a deadline, too,” Simone said. “December 21, 2012 something massive, and a little on the mystical side, is going to happen. What we don’t exactly know, but we do know that the Brotherhood wants to stop it. And we’re the only ones who can stop them.”

“This Robin Hood approach is pretty fucking stupid, if you ask me,” Amadeo said, lacing his fingers behind his thick head of graying hair. His goatee made him look more like a pirate than an army general. “Why aren’t we supporting this Brotherhood? Underboss to the Don?”

“That’s funny, Amadeo, I don’t think we did ask you.” Lucien leveled a hard gaze on him. “But to answer your question, that’s not how we operate anymore. Not when it comes to the freedom of the whole world. We might not be saints, but there’s a line.”

“With all due respect, Lucien, I have to agree with him,” Dominic said calmly. “You’re talking about going up against what is apparently a major force to be reckoned with and one that’s been in place for what, centuries? If we already have connections with them, I don’t think it’s wise to continue to spit on that.”

“Too late,” Simone said.

“This isn’t a discussion on whether or not we’re doing this,” Vasco interjected. “This is to inform you all what the real goal of this family has been since SVT ran it.” It was weird, very weird, to talk about himself in the third person, but he continued unflinchingly. “Marcello believed this was the right thing to do, and we do as well. We’re going to end this and find out just how good we really are.”

Christopher’s blue-gray eyes lit up. “You tell us what you need, Vasco, and you’ll have it. I, myself, haven’t been in a good fight in years.” Before his retirement, Christopher had followed in his father’s footsteps and served as General of the Air Force. It was rumored that he was a better fighter pilot than his father had been, especially in combat. If anyone asked him, Christopher would tell them that it was his mother’s fault. Instead of being a great shot with handgun, like she had been, he preferred a 20 mm cannon.

“I heard you got into one last night, Uncle Chris.” Lucien grinned lightly. Even though they were all cousins, Lucien and the rest of his siblings had always called Isabella and Christopher Aunt and Uncle, respectively. Isabella and Christopher had been authority figures in the triplets’ lives— parents, almost—especially Christopher to Lucien.

Christopher shot Lucien a heatless glare.

“Xavier works for Homeland Security. Is he our man on the inside?” Olivia asked, watching the triplets closely.

Vasco shook his head. “No. In fact, I’m not sure he’s aware of the potential mess he’s sitting in the middle of. We broke ties with DeMarco a few decades ago, and we have every reason to believe they are supporting the Brotherhood. I haven’t involved Xavier, yet, because I don’t want to put him in compromising position or endanger his life.”

“I appreciate that,” Christopher said. Xavier was his son. “But he can handle himself. You need to use him, use him.”

“Thank you, Uncle Chris.” Vasco tipped his head in his direction, and then looked at the rest of the family. “We need every ones support on this.”

“You have it,” Isabella said easily. “I never could see my mother, or Uncle Stefano, being subservient to anyone. If this was the plan, then it’s a good plan.” Her eyes faintly gleamed with the love of a good challenge.

Simone quietly flushed with pride. She could almost see the battle-ready instinct light up Christopher’s eyes and the love of the game burn like a flame in Isabella’s. Thank God no one on her side of the family had wound up working with The Brotherhood. The Liliana in her would have been pissed.

Lucien was pissed as he watched Amadeo and Olivia. “And you two?”

Amadeo shrugged. “Seems I have little choice, doesn’t it?”

“If you want to burn this family to the ground, fine. Do it. I’ll be standing on top of the rubble shouting I told you so.” Olivia leaned back in her chair, folding her arms over her chest.

“How can you be so fucking self-serving?” Lucien snapped, his temper rising.

Amadeo smirked unkindly. “Because you’re the epitome of one for all, and all for one, playboy.”

Vasco reached out, putting a staying hand on his brother’s arm. Olivia snickered.

“My affairs lie in the company dealings, as does Agata’s, but if you need us, Vasco, of course we’ll assist,” Dominic said smoothly, purposely failing to acknowledge Nicholas’s involvement in Dion Corporation’s dealings. Agata was the current CEO of the Dion Corporation.

Nicholas, who ran the Eastern sector of Loyalty Airlines, wasn’t surprised. His father’s treatment of him still pissed him off, but he hid it, like he normally did, and looked over at the triplets. “I don’t see any problem with this. Why the hell not, really. I’m in.”

“Thank you, Dominic,” Vasco said, “And Nicholas. This operation may call for the use of our military, and we need someone in charge of them that’s fully committed to this task.” Vasco traded glances with Isabella and Christopher. “Isabella, because you are the Governor of Alcyone, would you have any objection to your brother coming out of retirement and assuming full command of the Alcyone Island military?”

Amadeo blinked, and then he bristled. He shot to his feet, pressing his palms into the conference table. “Excuse me?”

Simone barely contained a grin at the furious expression on Amadeo’s face. Asking Christopher to assume control of the military had been her idea.

Isabella flicked a disapproving glance at Amadeo. “Sit down, Amadeo. For the duration of this exercise, given your obvious reluctance to participate in it, you will accept a temporary demotion to Lieutenant General. Christopher—”

“Will gladly take control of our military,” Christopher said, watching Amadeo with hard eyes.

Amadeo’s neck turned red, but he swallowed down the biting retort, tipped his head in the elder Terenzios’ directions, and sat back down in his chair.

“Thank you Aunt Isabella, Uncle Christopher,” Vasco said. “Olivia, we see no reason why you can’t keep control of your SVT office, but you’ll be reporting directly to Lucien.”

“How wonderful.” Olivia’s voice dripped with sarcasm, and she refused to even look at Lucien.

Vasco continued: “We’ll be using Loyalty a great deal over the coming months. Nicholas, get with Simone.”

Nicholas nodded. “Of course.”

“Agata, your days will continue as normal. Keep the company moving.” Vasco gave her a small smile.

Agata nodded. “That’s what I do.”

“Are Robert and the Think Tank involved?” Kayla asked.

Simone nodded. “Yes. That’s why he’s not here. Our geek squad is in the process of building a device that will make our jobs easier. Well, my job, at least.”

“Which is?” Olivia asked.

“Need to know,” Vasco said. “For security reasons.”

Olivia frowned. “You want us to help you take on the powers that control the whole fucking world, but you won’t tell us how?”

Lucien threw up his hands. “You don’t even want to help, but you want to know how? Make up your fucking mind.”

“Enough,” Christopher interrupted. “We’ve always been a need-to-know family. That’s nothing new.”

“And you three—” Isabella eyed the triplets. “—will keep me in the direct loop of your activities. I will not fish around, nor come hunt you down for answers. Understood?”

Simone’s mouth twitched. “Crystal clear.”

There was a faint curve to Vasco’s mouth. Isabella was so much like her mother. “Yes, ma’am.”

“You will be the most in-the-know member of this family.” Lucien gave Isabella a little salute.

“We’ve got a lot to do and not a lot of time, so everyone keep their phones on, please.” Vasco looked around the table. “This meeting is adjourned. Aunt Isabella and Uncle Christopher, please stay. We have a few things to go over with you.”

Chapter 9

"The absence of darkness in a person does not suggest an abundance of light, for to know the light you must have known the darkness."

-Anonymous

June 20, 2012 - 11:11 PM

Vatican City

Catacombs

What is ours we take tonight; As ring of fire burning bright; We stand behind the burning light; and cast no shadows in the night.”

The golden blade of the knife was stained red. Crimson crawled down metal, dripping soundlessly onto the stone slab. The chant continued around him, a hypnotizing melody that fed the dark energy of the ritual sacrifice.

Tony stared down into the face of the dead child. The boy could have been no more than eight or nine, and so closely resembled his nephew that Tony couldn’t stop the tremble that ran down his spine and made his hand shake. He was one of them, now. A blood brother. He was one of the privileged few that would rule over the slaves of Earth and worship the great gods, the Anunnaki.

Catacombs intertwined under the world’s Holy Empire, where this darker secret laid in wait. The air was thick and heavy with the lowly vibrating energy that crawled through it. Candle light flickered off the old walls, and Tony closed his eyes, seemingly to draw in the energy of the moment. In truth, it was to control his tears. No one would believe that such atrocities could be committed, especially not underneath the Vatican, with the Pope sitting on a stone throne watching over the ritual.

For anyone who understood how to condition a human mind—how the deepest layers of cult programming worked—this was a simple means to an end. Part of the Brotherhood’s success over the centuries, despite the occasional leak, was because of this conditioned loyalty. The killing of another human adult could be easily justified in a target’s mind. They could rationalize that he deserved death, for numerous reasons, or simply dismiss it as their right over a slave. But to kill an innocent child, especially one chosen to look like the initiate’s own child or close relative was a lot harder.

The ritual was proven to produce trauma and an almost mind-numbing denial in those who witnessed it, even if it wasn’t their first time. It brought fear, and fear was what They wanted. It brought about a slow decrease for the love of one’s self. Self-worth and self-esteem were reduced to nearly nothing, replaced by group think. After doing something so horrible, where would the participants be without the group? Who would they be without the support of their brothers? Humans were just as afraid of their darkness as they were their own light, because they knew that they were capable of both. A human was not born either good or evil; they simply were. Time and their own lives would thrust them into the game of duality. An imbalanced society would make them choose.

“We welcome our Brother with perfect love and perfect trust,” the Grand Master said.

Tony opened his eyes, slowly turned and placed the bloody knife back on the red velvet sash. He knelt down in front of the Grand Master so the final rites could be recited, and he could get the fuck out of there. Lifting his eyes to the Roshaniya’s, he kept his expression both humble and reverent and let his thoughts keep him sane. I really can’t wait until we kill you.

§

June 20, 2012 - 11:11 PM

Alcyone Island

Dion Corporation Headquarters

“Our Agents were about to enter Amadeo’s house when they realized someone was in there.”

The triplets, Isabella, and Christopher set their eyes on Caleb, who stood in front of the conference table. “Who?” Vasco asked.

Caleb shook his head. “We have no idea. Our Agent was able to get a picture of him, and we’re running it through our facial recognition software. What they told me was a little odd, though. They reported that he was blinking in and out of existence. They also reported he was holding a long golden rod with a diamond-shaped crystal attached to the top of it.”

The triplets looked at each other. Simone frowned. “Maybe two people got away from whatever happened underneath the Antarctica?”

Christopher arched a brow, looking between the three. “Care to fill us in?”

“Long story. The cliff notes are that Atlanteans use to live underneath Antarctica. The scientists at the Think Tank found a guy named Menes, who was carrying a gold rod with a crystal attached to the top,” Lucien said.

“For every hero there is also a villain,” Isabella mused.

“All right. So, we’ve got nothing on Amadeo.” Vasco clucked his tongue. “What about Olivia’s flat in New York?”

“That’s done. Her office here, as well,” Caleb said.

“One out of the two isn’t bad,” Simone said.

“Amadeo, Olivia and their guest left the island right after the meeting. Do you want us to try it again?” Caleb asked.

Vasco shook his head. “No. If he’s got aliens, for lack of a better word, around his property, we don’t know their capabilities. We might have already been made. Do we know where they’ve gone?”

“Sort of.” Caleb looked over at Vasco. “Worthington trailed them to Loyalty's airport. They used Nicholas to screw with their flight manifest, but he says their destination was Rome.”

A wry smile touched Lucien’s mouth. “Gone to meet with The Brotherhood to tell them what we’ve done.”

Simone glanced at her brothers. “Think any of the DeMarcos will be able to give us a heads up about what goes on in that meeting?”

“Possibly,” Vasco said. “When you talk to Xavier, Simone, find out,”

“Caleb, there is a security center underneath the mansion, in a chamber off the cellar. All information collected from those bugs goes directly there,” Isabella ordered.

Caleb nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Backups make the same flight to the compound?” Twice a month all information collected at Phoenix Isle was taken, by hand, to the compound where the triplets had had their past life session. Leone Vaughn, chief of the island’s military police, made those secretive trips.

Isabella nodded. “Absolutely.”

“You know, if it wasn’t for those fuckin’ mooks, I could be playing poker with a hot redhead in my lap right now.” Lucien sighed wistfully.

Simone smirked. Vasco stifled an eye roll. Isabella smacked Lucien upside the back of his head, and Christopher glared at him. “Glad to see you’ve got your priorities in order. Let’s get to work.”

§

June 21, 2012 - 7:11 AM

Vatican City

Offices of the Papal Gentlemen

Religion had been a powerful control mechanism for centuries. More people had been killed in the name of some “God” than in any war fought over politics. It should come as no surprise then, that Vatican City was one of the most powerful places in the world.

When someone didn’t speak the same language, or understand the symbolism that surrounded them, it was ridiculously easy to hide in plain sight. Cathedral Square was rife with symbolism, and none of it Catholic. The most significant was the huge statue that resembled a pine cone. It was called the Court of the Pine Cone, and in front of the massive statue, an open sarcophagus laid at its base. The statue was a symbol for the pineal gland: the open sarcophagus representative of the journey one took to open up the potential power that lay hidden in the brain. The awakening of the potential of the human mind was often linked to a death, then rebirth, an intense metaphysical transformation brought about by the activation of the pineal gland.

Standing in one of the Papal Gentleman's offices, Enlil stared out the window, twilight draping itself over his view of the square. He was in full human form, the epitome of an aristocrat; what everyone expected the Vice President of the United States to be. It was the perfect position for an Anunnaki who wanted to keep a close eye on his disciples. Very little attention was paid to the Vice President, and that allowed Enlil the freedom to move about unnoticed. His actions were rarely questioned, and there was little risk of becoming a possible highlight in one ambitious reporter’s news reel. Of course, the Roshaniya controlled the most popular, well-known media outlets. Nothing was shown on any major news channel that didn’t have someone’s stamp of approval. Regardless of that iron-fisted control, Enlil was always careful, especially since the silly spiritual awakening had taken hold of the planet.

More people questioned instead of blindly accepting. Less people read the newspapers or put their complete faith in mainstream media. The internet was the Roshaniya’s biggest problem, but censoring it would have caused a backlash they wanted to avoid. On the positive side, the internet provided the means to take advantage of the free information the humans gave away. The conspiracy theorists were usually partially correct. If the slaves had ever learned to piece things together from different sources, they might have seen the full, terrifying picture. Even that would have been acceptable, though, provided they bought into the Us versus Them mentality and stayed locked in Duality.

But they weren’t.

The humans weren’t arming themselves with weapons or holding onto anger and hate. They were quietly educating themselves and pulling their support –more importantly, their energy—from the thought-controlling systems. They abandoned organized religion, choosing a more direct, personal route to “God”. They became the change they wanted to see in the world, and while certain atrocities angered and saddened their souls, they didn’t cling to such darkness. They loved, they forgave, and they continued on their journey. The problem with that sort of energy was that it didn’t require a majority of the population to be effective, and it riled Enlil’s anger to no end.

It didn’t matter, though. Their little spiritual revolution wasn’t going to help them anymore than the Galactic Federation was. Earth belonged to the Anunnaki. Period.

“Sir?” One of Enlil’s Secret Service agents came into the room. He, too, wore a false human skin; one of the Zetas. Centuries ago, the Anunnaki and Zetas formed a treaty. The working class Zetas served the Anunnaki on Earth, while Zeta scientists were allowed to abduct humans in Anunnaki-designated areas for whatever purpose they so chose.

“Yes?” Enlil didn’t turn from the window.

“Amadeo and Olivia Terenzio are here.”

Enlil smiled. “Send them in.”

§

After the meeting with the triplets, Dominic pulled Olivia and Amadeo aside and told them they were going to Rome. He didn’t say who they were going to meet with, only that they needed to bring Loki. A car would pick them up.

Olivia and Amadeo hadn’t been surprised, until they arrived at Vatican City. That surprise grew when they were shown into the suite and saw the Vice President of the United States standing there.

The moment that Loki walked across Cathedral Square, he could feel what had happened beneath them. A very dark, heavy energy rolled underneath his feet. He didn’t like sensation, but his options were limited. He could not allow the Ascension. Clutching the crystal in one hand and staring at the Vice President, Loki narrowed his eyes. He could see beyond the disguise to the true form of the Anunnaki underneath.

“You’ve done well, bringing an Atlantean to me,” Enlil said, his dark eyes on the crystal.

Olivia smiled. Amadeo nodded. “And in exchange—”

“Yes, we know what you want. But your acceptance into our folds will come at a higher price than what you’ve brought us. Though, I have heard very good things about you from Kayla.”

“It is a sad fact that you are the lesser of two evils,” Loki said quietly.

Enlil’s smile sharpened. “Where is the other crystal, Atlantean?”

“Destroyed with Rainbow City,” Loki said.

“How are you so sure?”

“If one of them had taken it, they could have used it to escape and I would still feel their presence.” Loki paused, his jaw tensing. “I am the last one.”

A pleased expression slid over Enlil’s face. Even if the Terenzios’ team of scientists found the Cave of Creation, they would not be able to access it without the crystal. Enlil pulled his gaze from Loki and looked at Amadeo and Olivia. “Your family has admitted its wrong doings and wishes to try and stop us?”

“The stupid ones, yes,” Olivia said.

Enlil looked briefly amused. “If you can keep your family contained, then perhaps we will hold you in a higher regard than foot soldiers. I have more to speak with you about, but for now, leave us.” He waved his hand.

Olivia opened her mouth as if to say something but Amadeo grabbed her arm, squeezing tightly, and made her silent. “Yes, sir.” Amadeo tipped his head to¬w¬ards Enlil and Loki and guided Olivia from the room.

When the door clicked shut, Enlil’s eyes transformed, exposing his true reptilian irises. “It has been a long time since I’ve tasted the blood of an Atlantean.”

Loki’s shoulders tensed. “That is your intent for me? I can help you stop this Ascension.”

“I no more need your help than I do that of a human,” Enlil walked closer.

Setting the crystal carefully aside, Loki stood his ground. “You could not beat us on our own planet, reptile. You will not beat me on this one.” A pale purple light suddenly surrounded his hands.

“You have blocked yourself by your traitorous actions and the fear that clings to your heart,” Enlil hissed, his serpent-like tongue licking out between his human lips. “You are no longer more powerful than I.”

“We will put that to the test,” Loki snapped, and charged.

The sounds of their battle were fierce. Waiting in the hallway, Amadeo and Olivia glanced at each other as the walls shook and the lights above them flickered. At intervals, furious animalistic growling and the imposing shout of a man resonated throughout the Holy See. When silence finally reigned, no more Atlanteans lived on Earth.

§

July 4, 2012 - 9:12 AM

Alcyone Island

Loyalty Airlines International Airport

Kayla leaned against the sedan as the private jet taxied to a stop. When Caesar emerged from the cabin of the plane, she forced the tension in her body to ease. They had been posing as a happily married couple for the last twenty years, and yet the very sight of him made her uneasy. Fortunately, she was exceptional at hiding what went on inside of her—especially how much she hated it when he touched her; how much it nauseated her and left her on the brink of a panic attack every time he decided to take his “rights” as a husband, but more importantly as her handler, and roughly, often cruelly, fuck her.

Caesar smiled at Kayla as he walked towards her, despite his lingering agitation with his new set of orders. Patience. He just needed to exercise patience. Before he’d come to Alcyone, he’d brought a group of abducted children to the Chrysthamum Underground laboratory, then removed three ineffective Trainers. Trainers were highly specialized servants that kept the other mind-controlled minions of the Brotherhood in line. Both small assignments had helped take the edge off, but he still wanted Terenzio gone. “Hey, baby.” Bending down, he kissed her, and Kayla returned it as a loving wife who had missed her husband should. Inside, her stomach turned.

“How was Guatemala?” she asked, waiting until he climbed into the back seat of the car before she slid in beside him.

“Productive.” Once enclosed in the vehicle, Caesar put up the privacy window. “Orders have changed. We’re not going to kill the triplets, yet.”

That was surprising, Kayla thought. “What about their team at the sacred site?”

Caesar shrugged. “Tony told me they’d take care of it. They are probably just waiting until some sacred day to kill them, and the triplets, too. You know how much they like their rituals.”

That Kayla did know. Dark memories of cold, shadowy rooms and the smell of blood still plagued her dreams. “Victor is becoming useless. He got caught cheating, and Simone is going to divorce him.”

“Fucking idiot. Have Dominic get rid of him before he ends up shooting his mouth off.”

“All right.”

“Nicholas still earning his keep?”

Kayla slowly nodded. “He’s been very helpful with small, fill-in-the-gap bits of information here and there.”“That’s a real hard ass, right there. I probably would have been pretty fucking pissed off if I’d lost my family like that when I was supposed to have inside information.”

Kayla turned her head to look out the tinted window, watching the island scenery flash by. “His father knew. He decided not to tell him.”

Caesar laughed. “What a fucked up family.” He dropped his head back against the seat. “How was the funeral?”

Her father’s letter came to mind. She should tell him. If Marcello knew about her and Caesar, it was possible other family members did, too. It was information that should be reported. Kayla decided not to. She would have to share the details of Marcello’s letter with him, and she didn’t want to do that. That was hers. She would play this one herself, and if exposure was a true threat, she would deal with it then. “Typical. I reined Olivia and Amadeo back in. They should be monitored, though.”

“Put Dominic on it. He’s good at that.”

“All right.”

“Are the triplets in their ivory tower?”

“Yes.” Kayla looked over. “Are you going to see them?”

“Yeah, I’m going to pay Vasco a visit. If he’s been through his past life therapy session, I want to know if remembers me. And if he does, that might be enough leverage to get the Brotherhood to let us kill them sooner, rather than later.”

Kayla studied Caesar for another moment, then merely nodded and stared straight ahead. If Vasco was Stefano, the master of wearing the veil, then Caesar’s plan wasn’t likely to succeed. Marcello had welcomed him with open arms, treated him like a trusted son-in-law, yet the whole time had known differently. Kayla wondered what that kind of knowledge did to a man who loved his children despite the evil that resided within them.

“But first, why don’t you come over here and make the boss happy.”

Nausea spilled into Kayla’s gut. She felt a cold sweat immediately start to cling to her skin. Yet she smiled, turning in her seat to reach for his belt. “Yes, sir.”

Chapter 10

“What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.”

-Ralph Waldo Emerson

July 4, 2012 - 12:12 PM

Alcyone Island

Dion Corporation Headquarters

Don move yet, please. I love tha way ya feel.”

Vasco sat at the head of the conference table with his fingers against the side of his temple. His eyes were closed. Memories clicked away like the flash of a camera, all of Stefano Vasco Terenzio’s second wife, Cleona DeCalvante; the one Vasco had gotten a moment with this lifetime and lost after mere hours, because it was her turn to end her existence on this planet. Slowly, Vasco rubbed his fingers across his temple, as if the gesture could soothe him in some small way. He missed her. God, did he miss her.

He supposed it was Karma. Stefano had left her, after all; a costly misjudgment that had taken him away before he’d gotten the chance to say good-bye. That misjudgment had left Cleona with seven decades of misunderstanding why Stefano had allowed himself to be killed. She thought he’d done it simply to bring his son onto the chess board. While that was true, the reason extended a lot further than that.

Stefano had walked into those assassins’ bullets because his son had to become the heir. Marcello had been the perfect mix of strength and gentleness to set the game up to where it was now; with them in position to win. Stefano could never have stood idly by and just watched, and he had not been foolish enough to think that he would have been a good father. His death had been a catalyst that set so many other things in motion; like his sister.

Vasco sighed into the silence and stood up, restless. He found it almost amusing to know that even in those semi-noble moments, Stefano’s ego had never been far behind; he’d also known that, when the time came, he’d be back to finish what he had started. But Vasco was realizing that his alter ego had misjudged a few things. Stefano couldn’t have known the type of man he would reincarnate as, and this man wasn’t so concerned with ego. Vasco might carry a natural affinity for wearing the veil, keeping both thought and emotion private, and his love of the game was in his blood, but he lacked the quiet excitement he had felt a lifetime before. Vasco felt robotic in his movements. He was playing the game because he had to, because he was good at it, and because he was meant to. He no longer felt any motive deeper than that. He was tired; tired of the intrigue, of the constant manipulation of pieces, and soul weary of the violence and loss that came with living the way they chose to.

Brief, wry amusement flickered in Vasco’s eyes. If Stefano were to meet himself today, he’d call him a pussy.

The phone on the conference table beeped, pulling Vasco back into the present. Turning around, he pressed the speaker phone button. “Yes?”

“Dr. Medicci is here to see you, sir.”

Vasco’s gray eyes darkened, and that thick plate of steel slammed into place. “Send him in.”

Caesar Medicci. Kayla's handler. Enemy. The man Stefano Terenzio had hated most. Of course, Vasco knew Caesar this lifetime, and even before his experience remembering his past lives, he had never particularly liked the man. As Kayla’s husband, Caesar had been in the family for years, though he didn’t work in the Terenzio Empire. Caesar’s cover story was that he was a doctor, and often volunteered for Doctors without Borders, an international humanitarian group that worked in third world and war torn countries. Caesar’s involvement in the program explained his disappearances.

Caesar pushed open the conference room doors and smiled warmly at Vasco. “I’m not bothering you, am I? I just wanted to pop in and see how you, your sister, and your brother are.”

Now that the connection had been made, Vasco could see the likeness, and immediately felt an answering tension creep up the back of his neck. Caesar didn’t quite look like a typical doctor, but because of the third world countries he supposedly visited, he could get away with his shaved head, his big rough hands, and his stocky but athletic build. He did work, on occasion, at Alcyone Memorial, so his M.D. was legitimate. His smile could be easily described as comforting and warm, except it never quite touched his eyes. Few people really looked, though.

“No.” Tempering down his urge to snatch a pencil off the conference table and slam it into Caesar’s neck, Vasco returned Caesar’s smile and walked around the table to greet him. They clasped hands and hugged, just like family. “We’re overwhelmed, but dealing. It’s good you’re back. Kayla took the losses hard.”

“I know she did.” Caesar sighed. “I got a little teared up. Marcello was like a father to me. Kayla is a trooper, though. She’ll pull through it.”

“It’s in the blood,” Vasco agreed. The irony of their conversation was not lost on him. “How was your trip? Where were you this time?”

“Guatemala. It was by turns disappointing and rewarding.”

An interesting coincidence, Vasco thought. He had no doubt that Caesar had been in Central America. He was also positive that Caesar had not been doing anything that even remotely resembled the kind of work Doctors without Borders did. “I’m sure that has to be hard. Lots of people need help.”

Caesar shrugged. “You learn in this job that you can’t save everyone.”

No, Vasco thought, but they could put people in a position to save themselves. “Wise words.”

“How’s the leg? Rains coming in.” Caesar watched Vasco’s face closely.

Vasco looked down at the limb. The dull ache in his left leg had alerted him of the incoming storm hours ago. It was a left-over physical reminder of his life from the past. Nearly a century ago, S.V.T had walked with a slight limp. Caesar was trying to figure out if he remembered his past life, Vasco realized, and almost smirked. Fucking amateur, Vasco thought. “Acting up like it usually does.” He shrugged. “I’m used to it.”

Lucien bumped open the conference room doors, carrying two brown paper bags. “I brought you lunch, because I’m such a good brother.” He paused mid¬-step when he saw who was in the room, and in the next second had a smile on his own face. “Well, well, welcome back, doctor.”

Lucien was the epitome of a waste of space, in Caesar’s opinion. He forced a smile. “Thanks. Listen, I won’t keep you guys, I just wanted to let you know I was back. And if you need anything, prescription for Valium, whatever, just let me know, all right?” He smiled at them.

“That’s awful nice of you. Isn’t it, V?” Lucien kept his expression humorous as he set the bags on the table and opened them up.

“It is. Thank you, Caesar.” Vasco offered his hand to his enemy again. They hugged once more. Caesar gave Lucien the same embrace before he left.

After the door swung shut, Vasco waited thirty seconds before he picked the phone up off of the conference table.

“I’m so proud you didn’t kill him,” Lucien said as he took a seat and pulled out his sub sandwich.

“Yet,” Vasco said while he listened to the phone ring. When the sergeant answered Vasco said, “When General Zhane gets back on base, ask him to come meet me in the conference room at the Dion Building right away. Thank you.”

Lucien watched his brother as he hung up the phone. “You’re not sending Christopher after him, are you?”

“No. But Caesar was in Guatemala, which means he was watching our team there.” Vasco sat down next to his brother, pulling a thick sandwich towards him.

“Ah. Sending them some military protection?”

“Exactly.”

“Good call.”

“Where’s Simone?”

“Having lunch with Caleb in her office, and plotting to blow shit up like you told her,” Lucien said around a mouthful. “Those two have potential.”

For just a moment, amusement passed over Vasco’s face. “Yes, yes they do.”

§

July 4, 2012 - 12:12 PM

Alcyone Island

Dion Corporation Headquarters

Simone stood with her arms folded across her chest, studying the hologram floating in front of her. It was a map of the United States with small red icons shaped like military bases marking the location of every concentration camp.

“I can’t believe they get away with calling them Illegal Immigrant Detainee Stations. Do they expect we’re going to be invaded by Mexicans?”

Xavier Terenzio–Zhane’s voice came in through the speaker phone. “You would think alarm bells might go off, but no, they’re good at getting away with pretty glaringly apparent things.” Xavier worked for Alexandro in Homeland Security.

“Centuries of practice,” Caleb said as he shouldered open the door, a deliciously smelling bag in one hand, and two sodas in a drink tray in the other.

“That, too,” Xavier said.

Simone caught herself smiling when Caleb walked in. “That smells delicious.”

“Brain food. Lucien brought your brother lunch, and I promised him I’d bring you yours.” Caleb flashed a quick smile, pulled the Italian subs out of the bags, and situated them on a paper plate for her. “Don’t let me interrupt.”

“You’re not. Thank you.” Simone touched his arm as she sat down. “Keep going, Xavier.”

“The National Security Agency, NSA, has become the top dog. Homeland Security sits right underneath them. We are responsible for running the camps, and will be the intermediary during the transition from local law enforcement to the military, just so you understand who all the players are. The NSA has compiled three lists. People on the red list are the ones they consider the greatest threat. Those people have ascended, for lack of a better word. They’re carrying the highest vibration, and they’re lifting up others with their mere presence. They will be taken to the camp just outside of Sedona, isolated, and made examples of.”

Simone frowned as she dropped her napkin into her lap. “Do I want to know what that will entail?”

“No, you don’t. We’re going to try to hold off on the torture for as long as we can, for as many of them as we can, but it’s a slippery line we’ll walk. If the Brotherhood keeps to the original time table, they’ll only be in there for a week before you bust them loose.”

“Okay. Keep going.”

“After the red list comes the blue list. All your outspoken journalists, writers, conspiracy theorist, spiritualists, people who believe in the constitution, free speech, democracy, et cetera. Anybody who was getting ready to jump ship, or had started to pull their energy from the system, is on it.”

“How did they determine who these people are?” Simone asked.

“Big brother is watching,” Caleb said around a bite from his sandwich.

“Exactly, Caleb,” Xavier said. “One of the reasons the internet hasn’t been censored is so they could monitor search terms, websites visited, and easily identify who the ‘troublemakers’ are. The NSA really doesn’t have to monitor cell phones much anymore. Social networking sites like Twitter and Facebook are telling them all they need to know.”

Simone’s frown deepened. “Control disguised as freedom.”

“In a sense. They’re really good at that. Hell, the NSA will buy independent journalists to purposefully set up control groups, disguised as activist organizations for some cause, just to spread dis-information. It’s called Project Chickenfeed.”

Simone snorted and shook her head, picking up her sandwich. “I bet they get a real kick out of themselves.”

“Wouldn’t you if you were getting away with the crap they are?”

“I’d laugh a little bit,” Caleb said. “Thankfully, I’m not that mean-spirited.”

“You’re secretly a really nice guy, aren’t you?” Simone shot Caleb a sideways glance.

“Well, I’m not that nice.” Caleb winked at her.

“Few people are. But, we only need a few.” Xavier chuckled. “Simone, Alexandro has confirmed that the information Marcello collected on the top five bases is accurate. Those are the camps your SVT teams will spring people out of.”

Simone set her sandwich down, dusted off her hands, and pressed a button the laptop next to her. The hologram shifted, bringing up a bird’s eye view of the bases with statistical information on each scrolling down the side. She drummed her fingers on the table, thoughtfully. “I’m not sure we can handle all these.”

“You’re going to get back-up. There is a pretty large group that will rendezvous with your team called the White Lotus Society.”

“Chinese group?” Caleb asked.

“Yep. You'd be surprised by how many organized and really effective groups have been giving the Brotherhood hell over the years,” Xavier said.

“Good. The more the better,” Simone said.

“Definitely. We’re counting on a lot of pieces falling into place, the night of. Those bases are guarded with some pretty advanced artillery, like ROWS, so it’s vital that Lucien knocks ELIMINT off line. He does that, the solar storms start, and the base will pretty much shut down.”

“What are ROWS?”

“Remote Operational Weapon Systems.” Caleb looked over at Simone. “They are heat-seeking, mechanized rifle systems that automatically lock onto anything in sensor range.”

“Sounds like we should have a few.” Simone studied the hologram. “Talk to me about the underground bases.”

“Okay. Tony has gotten us some great intelligence on those. For smoke and mirrors, you’re going to let Olivia and Amadeo think you’re targeting a phony list.”

Simone nodded, despite the fact that Xavier couldn’t see her. “I’ve got that file.”

“Good deal. Now, for the bases you’re actually going to hit. You’ll start at Mt. Shasta, California. There’s a hidden entrance in an abandoned mine shaft. The base is five levels deep, but you only have to access level one, where the station is. Set up the bomb, jump on the train, and you’ll go to Sedona, Arizona next.” As Xavier spoke, the holographic images in front of Simone shifted to show the bases’ access points. “From there, you’ll head to Dulce, New Mexico. You’ll see several different destinations on the train, but you want the Chrysanthemum Bio Genetics facility. It will be written in a very old Sumerian dialect, but you should have what it looks like in your file. Some really nasty stuff goes on there. Next stop will be Mid Way City in Kinsley, Kansas. Mid Way connects the east and west coast, hence its name. Your final stop will be in Denver, and this is the one big one. It’s right underneath the airport.”

“The train I’ll be taking is the magneto-levitation train, right?” Simone asked.

“That’s it. It will take you ten to fifteen minutes to travel between these spots.”

“I’ve heard they hit speeds of 1500 MPH.” Caleb’s eyes lit up. “That’s badass.”

Simone slowly drew her gaze over to Caleb, studying him. Kyle had said similar things to Lil when he talked about his airplanes and how fast they could go; but, just because Caleb liked things that moved fast didn't mean he was Kyle. Simone sighed silently and came back to the present. She would get nothing accompli-shed by missing something that had been. “The train won’t be offline when the bases’ power grids go down?”

“Yes, it will, but we’re going to give you this handy little device the Pleiadians made to jump start it. Oh, something you probably don’t know. The entrance points to each base are blocked off by a huge door. That way, if something goes wrong in one area, they can isolate it from the others. The Pleiadians have a device for that, too, so you’ll be hot-wiring them open. Shouldn’t take you more than a minute or two to do that. You’re also going to get what we call Thermoptic Camouflage devices. That’s a fancy name for an invisibility cloak. It will also hide your heat signature, so not even infrared will pick you up. It’s a small thing. Wear it on your belt, and it will work in ten minute intervals. Two problems with it, though: one, it’s going to make you really nauseous each time you use it, and two, you can’t wear Kevlar.”

“Oh, goody,” Simone said dryly.

Caleb chuckled. “Well, if we’re invisible, I suppose we don’t have to worry about being shot at.”

“Compared to your previous life, Simone, this should be a walk in the park.” Xavier chuckled.

Simone laughed lightly. “True. But, there’s nothing like the real thing. Anything else I need to know?”

“Not at this point. I’ve kept this connection open long enough, too. I’ll let you know if there are any changes.”

“Xavier, one last thing. Amadeo and Olivia went to Rome. Do you know who they were meeting with?”

“When did they go?”

Simone glanced down at her notepad. “June 21.”

“The day of the summer solstice. They might have met with Enlil. I’ll see if Tony knows.”

“Great. Thanks Xavier.”

“No problem. Tell my Dad I said hi.”

“Will do.” Simone pressed the button to end the call, and then looked back at the holograms. “I never thought that, one day, I’d charge into underground military bases to blow them up. My ambition didn’t extend beyond taking control of the black market.”

Caleb smiled. Simone’s goal in life didn’t surprise him, considering what she’d done in previous lives. “Just imagine what you’ll be doing after that.”

Simone laughed and shook her head. “I can’t. I can’t fathom how different the world is going to be after we’re done removing the powers that be.”

“Probably a lot more fun.” Caleb stood up, collecting her empty plate and the trash.

“Thank you.” Simone tracked his movements, caught her mind wandering places it shouldn’t go, and turned her attention back to the hologram. “I’ve never even handled a gun this lifetime.”

“We’ll you’re going to get five months of practice in. Got some time, now? I could take you down to the shooting range.”

“Are you a good shot?”

Caleb slowly grinned. “Madame President, I’m not a good shot, I’m an above excellent shot.”

Caleb’s grin was infectious. Never mind that it was familiar in ways that Simone refused to think about. “Modest, too.”

Caleb walked over to her office door and pulled it open for her, amusement swirling around in his eyes. “Honest. There’s a difference.”

§

July 10, 2012 - 11:21 AM

Alcyone Island

LT Boxing Rings

“You’re getting slow, old man,” Lucien goaded his uncle.

He shouldn’t have spoken so soon.

Christopher pushed off the ropes and came at Lucien hard and fast, a barrage of punches breaking through Lucien’s block and rattling his brain in his skull.

Lucien got stuck in the corner, half grunting and half laughing. “Goddamn! All right, uncle, uncle already!”

Christopher backed off, but not before giving Lucien another strong strike. “They didn’t call me Fangs Out for nothing.” Fangs Out was the term assigned to military pilots who liked flying in attack mode.

Lucien grunted, breathing heavily. “I know everybody on Lil’s side of the family is angry, but I would have thought Kyle’s genes would soften you up a bit.”

Christopher smirked. “That’s a common misconception people had about my dad. He loved a good fight just as much as mom did. He was just a lot more subtle about it. Trust me, you didn’t want to piss off my father, or my mother. Period.”

“And now you make sense.” Lucien chuckled.

Christopher ducked under the ropes and had one of the uniforms help him with his gloves. “I want you to report to the army’s training facility tomorrow morning.”

Lucien followed him and quirked a brow. “Why?”

“Because you’re the point man on an important assignment, Lucien, and you’re lazy and out of shape,” Christopher said, reaching up to pull off his own helmet.

Lucien frowned. “I am not.”

Christopher eyeballed him. “You just got beat by a seventy year old man.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“Hey.” Christopher walked into him and grabbed him by the front of his sweat-soaked shirt, giving him a hard shake. “Get serious. I know you thought, once upon a time, that you were going to skate by with a cushy corporate job, liquor, and women, but the plans have changed.” He lowered his voice. “Out of everyone’s jobs, yours is the most important. And you will not fuck it up.”

Lucien’s jaw tensed. “I’m getting real tired of holding the title of Family Fuck Up I don’t deserve it.”

“You don’t deserve much else, either, and you know that. Time to earn a few things.” Christopher released him, slapping his cheek.

Lucien pursed his lips together. “You ever remember your past lives?”

Christopher shook his head. “No.”

Lucien took a hand towel from one of the ring assistants, then sat down on the edge of the ring. “I used to be able to balance things out pretty well when I was Julian. Wake up with a different woman every morning, go out and make my family a shit load of money, handle it, party half the night away, and do it again the next day. Then Stefano died and everything changed.”

Christopher sat down next to him. “As I’ve heard the story, a lot of things changed when Stefano died.”

“I don’t know if it was things so much as it was us.” Lucien twisted the towel in his hands. “Lil was so different after that. So was Carissa. And it wasn’t just the shock that he was dead. I think we thought that bastard would never die. But learning what he was doing, how big it was, what he was willing to sacrifice even if it was partly for ego…” Lucien just shook his head. “It was crazy.”

Christopher canted his head. “How do you feel about it now?”

Lucien’s brows pinched. “I think I joke around so much because when I stop and think about it all, I don’t know if I’m doing it for the right reasons. What’s the difference between us and the Brotherhood most days? Aren’t we just playing King of the Hill, trying to kick the other guy off? Wouldn’t the world look just like this if we were sitting on top of it?”

“Lucien…” Christopher put his hand on Lucien’s shoulder. “Right or wrong, you know it has to be done, and that’s saying something. We didn’t have to go this route. We could be siding with Olivia and the rest of them, working it from the inside to land our spot at the table of Thirteen. We chose choice over everything else, and that’s what makes us different. If we were sitting on top of the world, I think humanity would still have that option.” Amusement passed over Christopher face. “Even if it’s because we’d be bored if they didn’t have a choice. But so what?”

Lucien chuckled. “Yeah, yeah you make a point.” He was quietly thoughtful for a moment. “Granddad said we needed to love the world we were saving. I don’t know if I do.”

“Do you love your family?”

Lucien nodded. “Without question. Even those two fucking morons that jumped ship. ”That Amadeo and Olivia were working with the Brotherhood still made Lucien so angry that he could barely see straight.

“Then, just maybe, that will be enough.” Christopher slapped him on the back. “That and my General foot in your ass.”

Lucien smirked. “What time tomorrow morning?”

“You will be rudely roused from your home at 4:30 am.” Christopher hopped to his feet

Lucien resisted the urge to groan. “People function at 4:30?”

“It will continue until I am satisfied you are adequately prepared to accomplish your mission.” Christopher set the towel around his neck, loosely gripping both sides.

That was going to be rough. Lucien knew better than to argue, though, and Uncle Christopher had a solid point. If he failed, everything failed, and while they seemed to have the upper hand right now, that could all change. Drawing up straight, he gave Uncle Christopher a sharp salute. “Sir, yes, sir.”

Christopher playfully narrowed his eyes, and both of their cell phones vibrated. Lucien saw the message first and whistled. “Important meeting in the conference room. Think that means good or bad news?”

“The way this family works, probably both.”

Chapter 11

"The Light cannot exist alone: it is IN Darkness, within the Darkness from whence it came and into which it returns."

-Tani Jantsang

July 10, 2012 - 1:01 PM

Alcyone Island

Dion Corporation Headquarters

Hi Dad.” Agata stood, walking around her desk to kiss her father’s cheek.

Unlike Nicholas, Agata was not a disappointment. She was not as strong as Dominic would have liked her to be, but Dominic blamed most of that on her mother’s genes. Smiling warmly, he gave her a quick hug. “Do you have time for lunch?”

“Absolutely. I have to run a file Lucien wanted on SVT Securities up to his office and jump on a quick conference call with HR in five minutes, but it shouldn’t take long. Can you wait?”

“Of course I can.” Dominic dropped his gaze to the file folder in her hand. “Why don’t I take that up to Lucien’s office for you?”

“Would you? Thanks.” She kissed his cheek again and handed him in the manila folder.

“I’ll be right back.” Smiling, Dominic stepped out into the hallway. Opportunities to learn more about one’s enemy should never be wasted. Walking over to the elevators, he pulled out his cell phone and called the main office number. “Yes, is Lucien in his office? No, don’t pull him out of his meeting, I’ll call back. Thank you.” Dominic hung up his phone, stepped into the elevator and pressed the appropriate floor number.

As he expected, when he got off the elevator, he saw that the blinds were closed on the conference room windows. Mindful of the cameras in the hallway, he walked nonchalantly to Lucien’s office door and knocked once. Then, he tried the knob. He restrained a smile when he found it unlocked. Typical Lucien, careless to a fault, Dominic thought.

He stepped inside, leaving the door cracked so he could hear approaching footsteps. Dropping the file folder onto Lucien’s desk, Dominic moved behind it and stood in front of Lucien’s laptop. He pushed the mouse, removing the screen saver and prompting the login to appear, asking him for a password. From the inside of his suit jacket, Dominic pulled out what appeared to be a simple USB drive and stuck it into the side of Lucien’s machine. While he was waiting for the program to crack the code, he riffled through Lucien’s desk. Dominic was not surprised to find nothing of importance. It took the hacking program a minute and thirty seconds to crack Lucien’s password. The wait was well worth the information that appeared on the LCD screen. It was a scanned PDF, and the bold header at the top drew Dominic’s eyes immediately.

Project Mannequin.

He quickly skimmed the document, though he didn’t have to go far. The first paragraph discussed patient #666, Kayla Terenzio.

“They know,” Dominic whispered. How much else did they know? More importantly, how did they know? Frowning heavily, Dominic grabbed the mouse and brought up the screen behind the PDF. The SVT Database search result screen appeared, and Dominic caught his breath. It showed a brief summary of where the file Lucien had been reading came from.

The following documents were secured from Joseph Mengele’s home office June 26, 1974.

“How in the world….” Dominic whispered again. He jerked his head up, when the low tones of a voice approaching from the hall caught his attention. He arranged the computer screen the way it was before, and yanked out the USB drive. Tucking it into his pocket, he walked around the desk, moving straight for the door just as it opened and his son, Nicholas, appeared.

Nicholas held his cell phone against his ear and paused mid-sentence when he came face to face with his father. “Hang on a second,” Nicholas said to the caller and frowned at Dominic. “What the hell are you doing in here?”

Dominic’s frown deepened at his son’s tone. The disrespectful little prick, he thought. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I was dropping off a file for Agata before I take her to lunch. Move.”

“You’re doing someone a favor? Take your happy pill today?” Nicholas smirked coldly, but stepped aside so his father could pass.

Ignoring his son, Dominic strode back to the elevators. He would have to cancel lunch with his daughter; there were more important things to do.

§

July 10, 2012 - 2:22 PM

Alcyone Island

Home of Caesar and Kayla

“Yes, sir, three HI-MENs have been deployed, one for each triplet.” Caesar looked down at the small black case in front of him. Inside was what appeared to be a mosquito. It was actually a mechanical spying device that could record audio and video in high definition from 200 feet away. “No, Operation Matrimony is a bust. Victor fucked up and got caught cheating. Yes, sir, I’ve given the order. He’ll be taken out soon… Yes, sir.” Caesar pressed the button to end his phone call. He was standing out on the deck of his and Kayla’s beach house. Kayla was inside, making him a late lunch like a good slave.

He was happy to have learned that, at this point, it didn’t matter what the triplets did; they wouldn’t be able to access what was underneath the ruins at Piedras Negras. The most they could do was cause trouble, but their family had been doing that for a century. It was nothing The Brotherhood couldn’t handle.

Caesar closed the case with the last HI-MEN inside and turned to go into the house, when his cell phone buzzed again. The caller ID said Dominic. Dominic usually called Kayla directly. Quirking a brow, Caesar answered. “Yeah?”

“They know about Kayla,” Dominic said without preamble.

Caesar went very still. “How do they know about Kayla?”

“Somehow they got Joseph Mengele’s private files. I found a document on Lucien’s computer that discusses Project Mannequin and Kayla’s involvement in it. The date it was acquired was June 26, 1974.”

Caesar frowned slowly. “Do they know about you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Fuck. Shit.” Caesar growled and shoved a hand back through his hair. “All right, stay in play. But keep your nose clean and your ears open until you hear back from me.” He ended the call, and walked into the house. He found Kayla in the kitchen. “The triplets know about you.”

Kayla was cutting his sandwich in half when she heard him. Her father—no, not her father, Marcello—must have told them. She finished her task, and then set the knife down on the counter. “How did you find out?”

“Dominic found a file on Lucien’s laptop.” Caesar came closer. “Do you know how they could have gotten it?”

She was obligated to tell him; programmed not to lie to him. She wanted to, except, there really was no point. Releasing a resigned sigh, she looked up at him. “Marcello.”

Caesar’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “And how did Marcello get it?”

Kayla shook her head. “I don’t know.”

Caesar came at her roughly, grabbing her by the arms in a bruising grip. “How do you know that Marcello knew?”

Kayla didn’t flinch, though how tightly he held her was painful. “He wrote me a letter, and Vasco gave it to me after Marcello died. In the letter, Marcello said that he knew where I had come from, and that it didn’t matter, I was his daughter, and he implored me that when the moment came, I would act like it.”

“Oh, you stupid, fucking cunt.” Caesar struck her, hard enough to draw blood. He hit her twice, then shook her so hard her teeth rattled. “Where is the letter?”

Kayla’s face throbbed. She licked the blood from the corner of her mouth. “Gone. I got rid of it.”

Caesar growled and punched her in the stomach, watching her sink back against the counter and gasp for breath. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?!”

Kayla swallowed hard and stared at the floor. “Because… because I believed him, when he called me his daughter. And even though I knew I couldn’t switch sides, I wanted to keep what he said to me, for me.”

“For fuck’s sake, Kayla.” He slapped her, a vicious strike that made her gasp. Grabbing a fist full of her hair, he yanked her head back to make her look at him. “You are not his daughter! Are you that fucking stupid? He didn’t love you, he was playing you! What kind of man could love an enemy? You probably sucked the fucking life out of him every time he looked at you and saw the lie.”

It was uncontrolled, the single tear that slipped from the corner of her eye. Caesar was wrong. For whatever reason, Marcello had loved her, hadn’t he? Maybe she had been incorrect. After all, what did she know about such a thing? “I’m sorry. Sir.”

“Are you keeping anything else from me?” Caesar demanded, tightening his grip.

“No.” She met his eyes. “Nothing.”

Caesar stared at her for a long time before he released her. “Go clean yourself up. I’m taking you to one of the training centers for an update on your programming.”

“Yes, sir.” Drawing herself up, Kayla walked obediently past him.

Caesar tracked her movements, frowning. If Marcello had known, then he had to have someone on the inside. Caesar snatched his sandwich off the plate and took a bite, chewing thoughtfully. Joseph Mengele had died years ago in a house fire. Kayla’s secret should have died with him, because the file on Project Mannequin was in the Vatican’s Secret Library. That meant someone either brought Marcello the file, or Marcello somehow found Mengele. Dropping his sandwich Caesar walked quickly through the house and over to his laptop. It took him ten minutes to access the old case file on Mengele.

“Son of a bitch.” Caesar frowned deeply. The date SVT Securities had acquired the file was the date that Mengele died. There were notes that the Brotherhood suspected that Mengele had been murdered, and launched a private inquiry specifically to find out if Terenzio could have done it. Caesar eyes narrowed as he read that Matthew DeMarco had led the internal investigation and concluded that no foul play was involved; Mengele had died of a horrible accident.

Caesar didn’t buy it. Especially now. Either Matthew DeMarco had killed Mengele and given Marcello the file, or Marcello had done it, and Matthew had covered up for him. Caesar suspected it was probably the latter.

“Those fucking traitors,” he said to himself. Caesar had never, ever trusted the DeMarco family or their loyalties. It had really burned him when he’d been forced to report to Tony. From his past life, Caesar clearly remembered how close DeMarco had been with the Terenzios.

The DeMarcos were Illuminati, though. They were so entrenched on the inside that he couldn’t dare accuse them of being traitors. That would be signing his own death warrant. Caesar rubbed his hands over his bald head, thinking. Eventually, he closed his laptop and went upstairs to get his things, a plan forming in his mind. He’d just have to prove it.

§

July 10, 2012 - 6:33 PM

New Orleans, LA

DeMarco Family Estate

“Uncle Tony’s here!” Seven year-old Bobby DeMarco came running into the foyer and threw himself against Tony’s leg.

The sight of the boy brought flashbacks, clicking away fast and disturbingly vivid behind Tony’s eyes. He knelt down, pulling his nephew away from his leg and held him at arm’s length. Bobby’s face was full of color, his hair mussed, his big blue eyes bright and alive; so unlike the face of the child that Tony had been forced to kill. “Bobby the Man DeMarco.” Tony forced a smile and drew his nephew into him, hugging him tightly.

“Yer shaking, Uncle Tony. Are you cold?”

“He’s just fine, Bobby. Your mother is calling you.” Alex stood in the archway, watching his brother and his son.

Tony sucked in an uneven breath and drew back, plastering the smile back onto his face. “I’m okay. We’ll throw the ball around a little later, all right?”

“Sweet!” Bobby turned around, and with the never¬-ending energy of a child, went running off in search of his mother.

Tony rose to his feet, rubbing the back of his neck as he walked over to his brother. “I wasn’t expecting—”

“It to hit you like that? I know. I didn’t, either.” Alex gave him a tight hug. “You did what you had to do.”

“Yeah.” Tony knew his brother was right, but that didn’t make it any better. “So, what’s up?”

“Come with me.” Alex squeezed Tony’s shoulder and led him into his home office. He closed and locked the door once they were safely inside. “My meeting with Michael went well.”

Tony walked over to his brother’s mini bar to make himself a stiff drink. “Who’s Michael?”

“The Archangel Michael.”

Tony turned around, glass in hand, and blinked. “I thought you were going to meet with the Ascended Masters?”

“So did I. At any rate, we are to stay the course. He also provided us with the communication devices we’ll need, when the time comes.” Alex walked over to his humidor and pulled out a cigar, offering it to his brother.

Tony shook his head at the cigar. “Okay. What else?”

Amusement suddenly slid over Alex’s face. “He gave me a gift to give to you. Gabriella.”

Tony took a healthy swallow of his bourbon, enjoying the warming burn as it coated the back of his throat. He looked at his brother curiously. “Michael gave you a woman to give to me?”

Alex chuckled. “Sort of. Look behind you.”

Quirking a perplexed brow, Tony turned around and jumped. “Whoa. What the hell is that?”

Floating in front of him was a tiny being, no more than eight inches tall. Her wings were translucent and fluttered at a dizzying speed. She had a beautiful, tiny face—or she would have, if not for the long white beard that stretched from her chin. A gold helmet sat on her head. She giggled at Tony and zipped over to his glass, poking her head into it.

“I’m not sure what the proper terminology for her is. I just call her a mini-angel. Michael said you would need her.” Alex watched in sheer amusement as the tiny being sucked up a sip from Tony’s glass, then coughed.

“Number one, Tinkerbell, get your own liquor.” Tony pinched his fingers around one of her legs and pulled her out. “Number two, what the fuck am I going to need it for?”

“He didn’t say. Think of her as your guardian angel.” Alex clipped the end of his cigar, watching his brother.

Tony frowned, letting the mini-angel go. She zipped around his head and found a seat on his shoulder, crossing her legs. “I’m fine, Alex. I don’t need a babysitter. Especially not this dwarf-pixie-angel thing.”

Gabriella huffed at Tony and looked offended. Alex laughed. “Antonio, you could at least be polite.” He grew serious after his laughter died down. “And you are not fine. None of us who have to sit this close to evil are.”

“They’re not evil. They’re just fulfilling their soul’s obligations. They simply are, remember?”

“That is true. Even so, the things we have chosen to do are not easily cast aside. In case you haven’t noticed, your hand is still shaking.” Alex tipped his head at Tony’s hand. It trembled around his glass.

Tony hadn’t noticed. He looked down at himself, frowning lightly. After a moment, he sighed in resignation. “Fine. She can stick around.” He knocked back the rest of his drink in a solid gulp. “Xavier has been in touch with Simone. And Amadeo and Olivia gave Enlil one of the Atlantean Crystals.”

Alex lit the end of his cigar, pushing a thin cloud of scented smoke into the air. “How did they manage to acquire that?”

“An Atlantean escaped from Rainbow City with one of the crystals and found his way to the wrong Terenzios.”

Alex frowned. “We’ve got to find the other one.”

“I think the triplets might have it. Or, their scientists do.”

“Oh, good.” Relief passed over Alex’s face. “They’ll need it to open the Cave of Creation.”

Tony quirked a brow. “No shit? No wonder Enlil was so happy to have found it.”

“Does he not know there were two?”

“Apparently not. I think he believes the triplets are pretty much fucked, now.”

“Good. Let’s hope he keeps thinking that way.”

Tony nodded and glanced at his…guardian angel. “Why do I get the one that looks like a cross-dresser?”

Gabriella grinned and batted her eyelashes. Alex burst into laughter. “Oh, don’t be so superficial. I think she’s quite attractive.”

“Yeah, but you’ve got shitty taste in women.”

Amusement swirled through Alex’s eyes. “You’re just bitter because Mona shot you down when you asked her out.”

Tony suppressed a grin, getting ready for the blow he knew was coming. “That’s because she’s got shitty taste in men.”

Chapter 12

“Difficulties increase the nearer we get to the goal.”

- Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

July 11th, 2012 - 10:52 AM

Denver, CO

Blue Moon

To get to the lower levels of the DUMB, one had to pass rigorous security protocols. It took Caesar five minutes to get through them all, and even then he was escorted, by a Grey, to the NSA offices. He went through another security check point to get into their operations center, and only then did the Grey alien leave him to handle other mundane tasks.

Caesar strode past busy cubicles and knocked on the door to Tony’s office.

“Come in.” Tony was standing in front of a floating LCD screen, watching data flash across it.

“Sir, we have a situation.” Caesar closed the door behind him. “The Triplets know about Kayla and probably me.”

Tony snapped his eyes over to Caesar. “How the fuck did that happen?”

“Someone tipped off Marcello years ago.” Caesar watched DeMarco closely. “Someone on the inside.”

“Motherfucker.” Tony rubbed a hand across his stubbly jaw. “Have they made any moves against you?”

“No. For whatever reason, they are leaving Kayla in play.”

“Probably so they don’t alert us that they know, and so they don’t give away whoever is on the inside.” Tony frowned thoughtfully.

“Sir, Xavier is a blood relative. Perhaps he—”

“Xavier doesn’t have that kind of security clearance. Don’t be a moron. You don’t think he’s watched twenty-four seven?” Tony walked over to his desk, snatching up his cigarette pack, and lit one up. “How did you find out they know about you?”

Caesar tensed at the insult, but kept himself contained. “Dominic found a file about Kayla and Project Mannequin on Lucien’s computer.”

“Whoa, whoa, time the fuck out.” Tony blew a heavy line of smoke at Caesar as he advanced on him. “Our people are snooping around the triplets’ offices? How fucking dumb are they?”

Caesar frowned. “Sir, you said integrate and observe—”

“Yeah, observe, not get yourselves caught! If that’s how you’ve been running your shit the last few decades, it’s no wonder Marcello found out about Kayla. We might not have a leak, just a bunch of incompetent fuckin’ agents.”

Caesar’s eyes narrowed sharply. “Beg your pardon, sir, but if there’s a leak it’s not coming from my end. No fucking way.”

“I’m not convinced.” Tony took another hit from his cigarette, then paused and canted his head at Caesar. “Wait, you said Marcello knew, but Dominic found the file on Lucien’s computer. How do we know that Marcello knew a fuckin’ thing about Kayla?”

“He wrote Kayla a letter, before he died, that she failed to share with me.” If that stupid bitch got him in any more trouble, Caesar thought, he would terminate her himself without waiting for orders.

Tony laughed without any humor. “Are you fuckin’ kidding me? There’s your leak. Where is she, now?”

“At a Training Center.”

“You make sure she doesn’t leave until it’s hammered into her skull what side she’s playing on. And you tell your people inside to chill the fuck out. No more side ops unless you get them from me. You got it?”

Caesar folded his arms behind his back so Tony couldn’t see his clenched hands. As annoyed as he was with the conversation, though, something wasn’t right. Tony’s logic couldn’t be faulted. Kayla may very well have, at some point, broken down and confessed to Marcello, but Caesar didn’t think the lapse in her programming was that strong. He had a strong hunch he was looking at the traitor. “Yes, sir. I don’t think it’s wise for me to be a continued presence on Alcyone.”

“Fine. Go hole up somewhere and wait for instructions. You keep tabs on your crew, though. Think you can handle that?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Wonderful. Now get the fuck out.” Tony walked back over to the LCD screen, still smoking heavily.

Caesar saluted him, and then let himself out. An hour later, Caesar got himself into Tony’s penthouse.

§

July 12, 2012 - 10:10 PM

Alcyone Island

The Zanzibar Beach Club

The crowd at Zanzibar was good company; a mix of civilians, military, and Dion Corp Security. The club itself sat on the beach just outside the official city limits, about two miles from the residential complex. Door less, with exposed beams that held up the thatch-covered roof, it was the perfect spot to stop at on the way home from work. A long bar sat on one side, a stage for the random musical acts on the other, with chairs and tables and oddities spaced in between, like the jukebox, a pool table (it was covered when rain was coming), and a strange totem that looked like a cross between an eagle and a phoenix that a crayon box had vomited on.

Coming off shift (though he left each of the triplets with a small security detail), Caleb left his suit jacket in the jeep, rolled up his sleeves, and headed inside the tiki hut. He said his hellos to the regulars and landed at the bar. Leaning into it, he scanned the selection on tap, settled for a Heineken and pulled over a stool. Leone Vaughn, Chief of Police, appeared at his side a few sips in.

“Still no fuckin’ leads. Not one.” Leone’s voice was tight with frustration.

“Get this man something strong, Frank,” Caleb said to the bartender, looking over at his friend. “I read your report. You’re making some headway.”

“Nothing a two year old couldn’t figure out.” Leone set his elbow on the bar and pushed his fingers back through his hair. “The number of people who even know Marcello Terenzio exists means it had to be an inside job. Someone wanted something from Marcello and Demetrius. Information. And…” He leaned closer to Caleb, speaking lowly. “…we found a bug in Marcello’s room.”

Caleb arched a brow. “SVT Securities?”

“Someone there, yeah, probably. Someone in the upper tier, too. It’s making me nervous how deep this could go.” Leone straightened and pulled his cigarettes out of his pocket.

Caleb took a long, thoughtful swallow from his glass. Olivia was sloppy, leaving the device in Marcello’s room. He hoped that Leone caught her. “How’s home life?” Caleb asked, switching the topic to something he thought would be a little more light-hearted.

Leone lifted his glass and nearly swallowed his scotch and water in one gulp. “My wife is having an affair,” he said, the lines of his richly tanned face hardening.

Caleb almost choked on his next sip. That was completely new news. “Victoria’s cheating on you? With who?”

“Don’t know, yet.” Even for a man in law enforcement, Leone had a gentle gaze and soulful brown eyes. But In light of current news, they got a little edgy. “But I’m gonna find out.”

Caleb watched him, sympathetic. “How do you know, Leo?”

“A man knows these things, Caleb.” Leone stared down into his glass. “If a man loves his wife, he knows.”

“Love is highly overrated.” Olivia Terenzio came strolling up to the bar, sliding onto the stool next to Caleb’s.

Caleb almost instinctively tensed, but forced the tightness from his shoulders. He turned his head to Olivia, and nodded politely. “Miss Terenzio.”

Leone gave Olivia a quick salute. “Ma’am.”

Olivia rolled her eyes and waved a dismissive hand. Her long, manicured fingers were decorated with small stoned, flashy rings. “At ease, boys. We’re all off duty right now. Mai Tai, Frank.”

“I would have taken you for a martini drinker. Frank, put Miss Terenzio’s drink on my tab.” Leone lifted his glass in salute, finished his scotch, and pushed off the bar. He slapped Caleb on the back of his shoulder. “Have a good night. Ma’am.”

“Goodnight, Leone.” Caleb smiled at him, making a mental note to check on him at some point tomorrow—and to let the triplets know about Victoria’s infidelity.

“I would rather have you buy me a drink,” Olivia said, turning on her stool to face Caleb.

“Sorry to disappoint you.” Caleb wasn’t, but he saw no sense in being rude. Yet, anyway.

“You know, I never understood anyone who thought once was enough.” The curl to Olivia’s lips turned as coy as the hooding of her eyes. “Especially when it was so good the first time.”

Caleb stared straight ahead at the racks of expensive bottles behind the bar. Everyone had a moment in which they had done something they regretted. A drunken one night stand was not an uncommon occurrence in a man’s life. Olivia had been his. Caleb had not been aware of her loyalty issues at the time, and Simone had just gotten married. Olivia had come onto him, he’d been plastered and that had been that. “That’s just the booze talking, Miss Terenzio.”

“I’m not drunk, yet.”

“I meant that night.” Caleb finally looked at her. Olivia wasn’t a dislikeable person. She had drive, determination, and a keen intellect. She had a hell of a temper, a foul mouth, and no liver. She was also sexy, even for a woman of her age, witty and carried a sarcastic sense of humor, but Caleb didn’t know what had ever made her so hard.

“Mm. Maybe. ”Olivia took her tall glass from the bartender, thanking him. She studied Caleb’s profile while she stirred her straw in her glass. Her mouth slowly curled. “Dare you to test your theory.”

Caleb slowly shook his head. He was certain that Olivia, Amadeo, or Kayla had killed Demetrius. That pissed him off, maybe more so than anyone else, because he had gotten to know her. “Miss Terenzio, I will thank you, but politely decline.”

“Well, at least tell me who the bitch is, so I can fight her for you.” Teasing amusement laced Olivia’s tone.

“There’s no one, Olivia,” Caleb lied, motioning Frank over to refill his glass. There was someone, but he didn’t have her. Yet.

Olivia lowered her glass and smiled. “It’s about time you said my name.”

Caleb opened his mouth, but movement out of the corner of his eye drew his attention away. Simone was standing there, watching them. Watching him. She was without her detail. She had probably lost them, or intimidated them into getting lost. The thought made his mouth twitch in his effort not to grin. Even if he didn’t already feel like his soul was connected to hers, it would have been hard not to fall in love with Simone Terenzio.

“Well, well. Hello, Simone. Aren’t you out past curfew?” Olivia called out.

Simone snapped her gaze toward Olivia. It had been a long time—a very long time—since Simone felt her hair rise. Nothing was going on, but Olivia kept looking at Caleb like he belonged to her. And that was just pissing her right the fuck off.

The illogic of her sudden emotion wasn’t lost on Simone. She had no relationship with Caleb. She could not have a relationship with Caleb. She didn’t want a relationship with Caleb, she told herself sternly. But none of those thoughts lessened the utterly feminine, battle-ready tension in her form. She met Caleb’s gaze across the room, steely gray locked on that warm, amused blue. She loved his eyes. They reminded her of…

Without another thought, she stalked to the bar and deposited herself in the small space between Olivia and Caleb.

Caleb drew his hand over his mouth to hide the smile that broke free. He certainly wasn’t going to object. His only issue was his want to slide his arm around her waist and pull her closer. Tempering back his urges, he asked, “Can I get you a drink, Madame President?”

“My usual,” Simone answered automatically, regarding Olivia.

Olivia hated Simone Terenzio. As much as Olivia hated Simone’s brothers, though, she just might hate Simone more. She hated everything that Simone had been spoon fed because of whose side of the bloodline she was born; the side that had fucked everything up. “Caleb and I were having a conversation. Why don’t you run along and figure out how to pretend you have a fucking clue how to run his family.”

Olivia was a traitor to her own family, but even if that damning piece of information hadn’t been true, Simone knew she still would not have liked her. The condescending tone Olivia fed her, and the intimate way she said Caleb’s name, made Simone's fingers itch to kill someone. Hell, at this point, she would have even settled for punching that smug look right off Olivia’s makeup-heavy face. Simone’s spine straightened, and her eyes subtly narrowed. “Since I do run this family, I think it’s time you started getting used to taking orders. From me. Mr. Kincade and I have a more important matter to discuss, so you’re dismissed. But since I know times are tough for women your age, I can always call the Islands Brothel for you.”

It took every ounce of self-control Olivia had to not bash her glass across the stupid bitch’s head, and then slit her throat with the shards. They couldn’t afford another incident, though, not with Kayla watching their movements as closely as she was. And Simone wouldn’t be in power for long. “You’re lucky to have Caleb watching your back, Simone. Very lucky.” Olivia rose from her stool, meeting Caleb’s eyes over Simone’s shoulder. “Next time, Caleb.” Taking her drink in hand, she stalked off.

There would not be a next time, Caleb thought, but he didn’t need to say that. He nodded politely at Olivia, and once she was gone, looked down at Simone. “Thank you for coming to my rescue.”

The look that Olivia had given Caleb was tainting Simone’s victory. “You two looked cozy. I’m sorry if I interrupted.”

Caleb opened his mouth to correct her, but the words died before they were given a chance, because something slowly became apparent: Simone was jealous. Jealousy implied caring. It filled Caleb with no small sense of triumph—of relief, really—to know that Simone was jealous. He would have liked nothing more than for her to lay claim to him. Then, he could do the same. He intended to, the moment Vasco lifted the gag order, but until then, he swallowed back a flirty reply and changed the subject. “What happened to your security detail?”

“I sent them home.”

“I can’t protect you if you won’t let me.”

“One, it wasn’t you. Two, I’m safe right now.”

Caleb recalled her father’s crime scene. He reached out, touching her arm. “You might not be.”

Simone lowered her gaze to his hand. Slowly, she lifted her eyes back up to his. “I can handle myself, Caleb.”

“I know you can. But there’s never anything wrong with an extra set of eyes, so humor me.” He smiled faintly. “Besides, I’ve got to go away sometimes. Give you a chance to miss me.”

Simone bit back a grin. Caleb was flirting with her. “If by saying ‘you’ you somehow mean my brothers, then you’re absolutely correct. Otherwise, your logic is faulty.”

Caleb knew he had orders. Regardless, he leaned a little closer, humor staining his eyes, hiding his affection, “You wouldn’t miss me if I was gone?” He was leaving himself wide open, but he couldn't resist tempting her into one of those biting, put-you-in-your-place retorts she was good at handing out.

She would miss him, Simone realized as she watched him come a little closer. Her pulse sped up, just a hair, and her eyes, of their own accord, drew down to Caleb’s mouth. What would he do, she wondered, if she—

“Are you fucking kidding me? This is who I’ve gotten replaced by?” Victor demanded. He’d been across the room, flirting with some brunette when Simone walked in. At first, Victor had done his best to make sure Simone didn’t see him with some other woman. Then, he had noticed the way she was looking at Caleb, and that was fucking it. Victor rose unevenly to his feet, knocked over his own chair, steadied himself on a beam, and stalked towards them.

Simone’s eyes narrowed. Her fury grew with the accusing look that Victor had the audacity to throw at her. He had cheated on her, and now he had the fucking nerve to cause a scene. Simone whirled around, but Caleb very subtly touched the small of her back, stilling her as he stepped away from the bar and put himself between her and Victor. He ran his fingers over the lobe of his ear, activating the earpiece hidden inside. Coming back online would indicate to the nearby SVT officers that they needed to pay attention. “Victor, why don’t I call a car to come and get you?”

“Don’t I outrank you, Rent-A-Cop?” Victor shot Caleb a dirty look, and then dragged his eyes back to Simone. “What the hell are you doing here with him? Didn’t you get my phone calls, my emails…” His arms flailed as his voice rose in drunken anger. “…the fucking flowers?!”

Simone didn’t look at him. “Don’t make me regret leaving you alive, Victor,” she said before her mouth met the rim of her glass. She took a healthy swallow so that she didn’t turn around, pull Caleb’s gun, and shoot Victor right in his big fucking head. She couldn’t believe she’d thought she was in love with him, once upon a time. Whatever might have been left of that emotion was further tainted by her anger every time she had to interact with him.

Victor tried to push past Caleb, shoving a finger at Simone. “If you think you can just write me off like this, after everything I’ve done for you, you selfish cu—”

The final word exploded into a loud whine of pain as Caleb punched him; a hard line of knuckles, right into his mouth. Before Victor could clear his vision, Caleb grabbed two handfuls of Victor’s shirt, dragged him out the door, and threw him into the arms of the SVT Agent that was walking up to the bar. “Make sure Mr. Russo gets home.”

Victor held his jaw and glared at Caleb. “I’ll have your job for this!”

As diplomatically as possible, the SVT Agent ushered Victor firmly over to the car, putting him in the back seat.

Caleb sent Victor a hard, unmoving look, watching until the car pulled out of the small lot. He turned around to see Simone leaning against one of the beams. She looked at Caleb. “Thank you.”

The lines of Caleb’s face faintly softened, and he gave a short nod. “To be honest, Madame President, I’ve been looking for a reason to punch that clown since I met him.” He walked up to her. “I told you I wasn’t that friendly.”

Simone felt her body tense pleasantly as he drew closer. The nearness of his presence made the memory of his touch, soft and expressive against her back, flash vividly through her mind. And the scene had brought back another memory; of a time when Kyle had lost his temper and gotten into a bar fight on Lil’s behalf. Lil instigated it a little bit, because riling her husband’s temper in that manner led to the most amazing…

Keeping that less than innocent thought hidden, Simone smiled faintly. “Neither am I.” She simply looked at him for another heartbeat before she walked back inside.

It was the way that Simone looked at Caleb that kept him motionless and wanting. If things like this kept up between them, and if Vasco didn’t lift that gag order soon, Caleb was going to break orders. For a very good reason; she was asking for it. His gaze made a quick pass down the length of her as she took three steps in front of him, and then he was nothing but professional as he followed behind her.

Neither one of them noticed the small mosquito, hovering.

§

July 12, 2012 - 11:01 PM

Alcyone Island

Residential Complex

Victor stumbled out of the MP car when it came to a stop in front of his beach house. He flipped the SVT Agent off, just on principal and staggered down his short sidewalk, digging into his pocket for his keys.

He and Simone needed to put a stop to their whole divorce mess. Sure, he thought, he’d fucked up, gotten caught, but come on what Italian man didn’t cheat? Simone was overreacting, and she knew it. Victor loved her. He really did! He wasn’t sure he was go¬ing to at first, but when he’d gotten the offer to attach himself to a Terenzio in return for feeding Dominic and Olivia small bits of information on her movements, why the hell not? He loved the perks that came with being Simone’s husband. The arrangement had worked out all around. But now, just for one little silly affair, it was almost like he was fucking blacklisted, and that was unacceptable.

“Stupid women,” Victor mumbled to himself. He pushed open his front door, a hand flailing behind him to shut it as his opposite fumbled along the wall for a light switch. When he flicked it on, he jumped and gave a short, startled shout. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Dominic stepped forward, a raised gun in his hand. “You’ve outlived your usefulness, Victor.”

Victor’s eyes widened. He held up his hand. “Now, wait a minute, wait just a fucking minute. I can get her back. I can—”

Dominic pulled the trigger twice, putting two bullets in Victor’s temple. Another man came to stand next to him, Dominic’s bodyguard for the last ten years. He was the only man Dominic trusted. “Take him out to the car.” Dominic pulled his cell phone from his pocket, and punched in Kayla’s number. It was answered on the first ring.

“Yes?”

“It’s done.”

“Make sure they don’t find him.” Kayla ended the call and looked back up at her Trainer. “I’m ready, now.”

§

July 12, 2012 - 11:11 PM

Denver, CO

Penthouse of Tony DeMarco

“Jesus, I’m gonna die sometime. Can’t I just go how I want to?” Tony shot Gabriella a heatless glare as she pulled his pack of cigarettes out of his shirt pocket and threw them out the window. Tony couldn’t help but shake his head at the stubborn look she gave him. “Guess not.”

He pulled his car into the parking garage, killed the engine, and released an exhausted sigh. He hadn’t slept in his own bed in two days. Rubbing a hand over his face, Tony picked up the bag of Chinese food and climbed out. Gabriella zipped underneath the collar of his shirt—her favorite place apparently—as he walked into his building.

“Welcome back, Mr. DeMarco.” Ricky, the front desk man and another poor soul that the Brotherhood controlled through mind manipulation, smiled in greeting.

“What’s the news, brother. Anything?” Tony stepped over to his mailbox, using his key.

“Naw. Nothing much ever happens around here. Mr. Medicci dropped off that package you wanted. ‘Bout it.”

Alarm bells exploded in Tony’s mind, but he didn’t miss a beat. “Great. When did he drop it off?”

“Two days ago.”

“Cool. Have a good night, Ricky.” Tony waved and got into the elevator. The moment he entered his apartment, he dropped everything and tore it apart. Gabriella helped. He scanned for every bug that he knew the Brotherhood used to spy on people. He verified the books on his shelf, dumped out the pens on his desk, searched underneath desks, chairs, rugs, corners, every item of clothing in his closet. He found nothing.

Two hours later, Tony leaned against the wall of his ransacked house, itching for a cigarette that Gabriella wouldn’t let him have. Medicci might have come just to snoop around and decided it would be too risky to leave a bug behind, but Tony wasn’t convinced of that yet. Caesar obviously suspected him. Considering who Caesar had been last lifetime, Tony wasn’t surprised.

Pushing off the wall, Tony went out onto his balcony to get some air. As soon as he stepped outside he noticed his plant in the corner. Aware that it was possible Caesar might be watching him from a distance, Tony went back inside the house for his watering can. When he returned, Tony bent down seemingly to water the plant but instead he searched the leaves. It didn’t take him long to find exactly what he was looking for. The tiny HI-MEN could have easily been a spider, but Tony knew better.

Smirking to himself, he walked back inside, setting the watering can on a table. “Stay put honey,” Tony said to Gabriella. “I’ll be right back.” Picking up his cell phone, Tony left his apartment and took the stairs to the roof. He quickly scanned the area, just to be on the safe side, then called his brother. “Alex, can you talk?”

“Sì. Go ahead.”

“We’ve got an issue. Dominic found a file about Kayla on Lucien’s computer. And Caesar suspects I’m the leak. He put a bug on my balcony.”

“We knew it would only be a matter of time. But, he has no proof so he knows better than to act on speculation. Put Caesar on an assignment that will keep him busy for the next five months. Extremely busy.”

Tony nodded, even though his brother couldn’t see him. “I’ve got a few things in mind.”

“Good. Did you alert the triplets about the incident?”

“No, not yet.”

“Don’t. There’s no need.”

“I thought so, too. Kayla, apparently, held information back from Caesar. Marcello wrote her a letter, and she didn’t share it with him.”

“My heart aches for that girl. It’s nice to know that her parents’ love almost undid everything They tried to do to her.”

“Yeah, but her parents aren’t around anymore, and she’s at a training center right now, getting her programming beat back into her.”

“Let’s hope some things run deeper. I’ll talk to you soon, Tony. Stay safe.”

“Yeah, you, too.” Tony ended the call and dropped the phone back into his pocket. He dragged his hands over his face. Five more months. They just needed to keep it all together for five more months. Tony let out an exhausted yawn, and trudged back to his house to clean up the mess and toss his food into the microwave. He never noticed the mosquito that sat patiently on the ledge on the rooftop. But it had heard every word he’d said.

Chapter 13

“If you tell a big enough lie and tell it frequently enough, it will be believed.”

-Adolf Hitler

October 20, 2012 - 12:12 AM

Washington, D.C.

The White House

After the bible had been twisted into an acceptable story for the masses, and the pages of moral code hidden with instructions for the Brotherhood, Revelations had foretold of this moment in history. Freedom could not be allowed to linger for too long, lest the slaves act as they were acting now; like they were free. They, the Anunnaki and the Brotherhood, had brought famine, war, and death to keep the populace of the world in the right, lower vibration. But, it was not commonly known, except to those that gave religion great independent study, that not all four horsemen of the Apocalypse were evil. There was a white horse, a warning to the Brotherhood that it was possible they might fail.

Enlil was more determined than ever to make sure that didn’t happen. According to his Anunnaki Magi and Seers, it was possible that Terenzio might have one of the great crystals of Atlantis. If that was true, they could open the Cave of Creation. Regardless of the fact that ELMINT was finished and ready, he would not allow them to access it.

At the stroke of 12:12, Enlil felt when the last of the Bodhavista, the great Ascended Masters of the past, came into form on planet Earth. From his spot beside the President of the United States, the rush of positive energy made Enlil sneer, his serpent-like tongue hissing out in clear protest.

“Sign it,” he ordered the president. The man was a pawn; a smooth orator with a convincing smile, like every other president had been. Distant cousins of one of the thirteen bloodlines, they were all loyal slaves. Without pause, the president signed his name to the executive order. By the time the sun rose, every single debt owed by American citizens would be called in. Money that could not be paid on the spot would bring criminal charges. Protests would follow. So, too, would the call for revolution. The people would arm themselves, lock themselves in the duality of us versus them, and give the Brotherhood, their government, more reason to take their freedom away. It would be the beginning of the end of the nonsense of this Ascension.

“Good boy,” Enlil cooed mockingly. He petted the president like the man was a dog and looked over at Alex and Tony who were standing in front of the desk in the oval office, watching. “I want those SVT Offices shut down and Terenzio removed.”

“Too soon, Enlil,” Enki said. He sat on one of the couches, disguised in a common, unassuming human form, watching his brother.

Tony nodded. “I agree, sir. You’ve got your hands full right now. Let your inside men keep riding on Terenzio and verify whether or not they have the crystal.”

Enlil frowned. “I do not want any surprises.”

“Did your Seers tell you that Terenzio had the crystal?” Tony asked.

“Of course not,” Enlil snapped. “If they had, Terenzio would be dead.”

“Then leave it be for now, brother,” Enki reasoned. “They can’t stop you, no matter what they try and do. Their time is coming, but you have more important things to worry about.” Enlil studied his brother in silence, and then smiled. “I am glad to see that you are finally coming around.”

“I have accepted, Enlil, that some things must be done.”

“Good.” Enlil looked over at Tony. “I want their team of scientists in Guatemala arrested and kept out of the way. I want their SVT Think Tank building on twenty-four surveillance. And you inform me the moment Kayla has found out whether or not they have the crystal, do you understand?”

“Of course, my God.” Tony clasped his hands together as if in prayer and bowed low.

Enlil flicked his reptilian eyes over to Alex. “Do your job. I want those concentration camps full.”

Alex mimicked his brother’s motions. “It will be done, great God.”

Enlil slowly smiled. “I never tire of hearing that.”

§

October 21, 2012 - 11:12 AM

Dion Corporation

Alcyone Island

Simone stared down at the papers announcing that her divorce was final. She realized after some silent introspection that she didn’t feel anything except a sense of relief. Victor hadn’t been seen or heard from in months, and that suited her just as well, too. One marriage down, she thought with wry amusement, and the husband had escaped unharmed.

Simone slipped the papers back into their folder and filed them away in her desk drawer. Maybe she’d have more luck with her second husband. Not that she was looking, but if she were to pursue a relationship again, that man would have to run a close line to what she had previously had, what she knew was possible. She wanted a connection; a bone deep, soul-filling connection.

What she wanted in a relationship, though, was a trivial matter compared to the intensity and importance of the game she was playing now. Rubbing her hands over her eyes, Simone decided that, before she submerged herself back into how they were to attack the concentration camps when the time came, she was going to take a break. Standing up from behind her desk, she stretched her arms and paused. A memory came running into her mind, from a lifetime not so long ago. As if she were reliving the past, she saw the door open, and Kyle walk in. She felt herself smiling, warming to his very presence, as a heady rush of anticipation filled her; she recognized the look in his eyes.

The memory faded as smoothly as it had arrived, and Simone sighed softly. She could still feel it; his arms around her, the needy, loving weight of his kisses. When those memories assaulted her so vividly, she wasn’t certain whether or not remembering past lives was such a good thing.

Giving a little shake of her head to clear it, Simone walked out of her office, heading down the busy carpeted hallways of the Dion Corporation building, to a set of double doors. She pushed through them and out into a small garden, a soothing place for employees to take a break. It was not uncommon to find a member of middle management or anywhere in between out there, meditating or cat napping. At the moment, though, Simone was alone.

She moved leisurely out into the sunlight, tipping her face up into its warmth and closing her eyes, drawing in a calming breath. She needed to silence the furiously continuing thoughts; the plans, the moves they were making, and the knowledge of how much failure at each junction would cost them.

She sensed another presence more than actually heard it. Opening her eyes, she glanced over her shoulder and saw Caleb walking towards her. He was another issue entirely. If things had been different, she could have seen herself— No, she thought. There was no reason to even touch upon that subject.

Simone’s brows slowly furrowed as Caleb approached. Strangely, he looked more than familiar to her. She took in the sharp angles of his face, the slightly curling sweep of his light brown hair, and the intense set of his clear blue eyes. He had clear blue eyes. Just like— Oh, God. Just like Kyle. Simone swallowed hard.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you,” Caleb said with a warm smile.

Simone pushed the thought away, blaming it on silent yearning and her recent memory. “You don’t have to apologize, Caleb, and you’re not disturbing me. Is something wrong?”

“Your brother, Vasco, sent me to come find you.”

Simone opened her mouth to answer him, but was forced into silence by another sudden rush of memory. It phased out her vision from the present to the past. She saw them—Lil and Kyle—after a job. Kyle had gotten shot, but not fatally. Liliana had been attracted to him, but didn’t plan on acting on it.

“Have dinner with me.”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

“Why not?”

Lil was just coming off of Jack’s murder, her divorce, and her husband’s lack of real reaction at her affair. She wasn’t ready to jump back into anything. “It’s just not.”

Kyle hadn’t given up. Liliana had given in two weeks later. She wasn’t without him after that.

“Simone? Are you all right?” Caleb took a few steps towards her, his brow creasing.

No, Simone thought, she wasn’t. She was going to end up losing her mind if this continued. She wondered, fleetingly, if Vasco suffered from the same torture of remembering past loves. She covered her face with her hands. “I’m sorry. Long day. Is he in the con—” Her hands fell away as she looked up at Caleb, and she was struck mute again. The concern marking his features wasn’t familiar to Simone, but it was to Liliana. He couldn’t possibly? Could he? She had to know. She had to know right then, or she wasn’t going to be able to function, let alone play the game.

“I have to do something.” It wasn’t much of an explanation as Simone closed the distance between them determinedly. Her hands lifted, framing Caleb’s face between the gentle strokes of her fingertips.

Every muscle in Caleb’s form coiled into a tight knot. He wanted to reach out, but he was afraid that in doing so, he would break whatever spell had come over Simone and she would stop; before she kissed him. That was surely her intent, he thought, and he was proven correct when he felt her lips brush in the most featherweight touch against his own. She felt like silk. It was addicting. Instinctively, he licked his lower lip and barely restrained himself from crushing her in his arms when she covered his mouth with hers a second after, taking advantage of his slightly parted lips to slip her own tongue inside, catching the tip of his.

He was suddenly so ridiculously familiar to Simone, she knew it with complete certainty; Kyle. That became the only thought that dominated her mind; that and the taste of him. She wanted more proof. As if Caleb was reading her mind, she felt his arms finally lift, and slide around her, lightly at first, and then tighter the harder she kissed him. Caleb licked intimately at the inside of her mouth, until she moaned with quiet longing. It was the sound she made, echoing in her own ears that pulled Simone back into sanity. He didn’t remember. To Caleb, Madame President had just started making out with him for no reason.

Simone pulled back as unexpectedly as she had leaned in, putting two big steps between them. Her breath was coming fast. Her face was flushed. She looked into those blue eyes again and almost broke down. Shutting her own eyes, Simone turned her head away, searching for that family-bred control. “I’m sorry, Caleb. You… reminded me of someone just now. It won’t happen again.”

Caleb watched her intently. “Understood. But for the record, you can kiss me anytime you want. And I promise not to get fresh.” He winked.

Simone lifted the family held dark gray eyes to him, and couldn’t stop the almost sad upward curling of her mouth. “Thank you, Caleb.” She wasn’t just thanking him for his light humor at the situation, but he wouldn’t understand what that moment had meant to her. Composure regained, the veil slide neatly over her eyes. “Is my brother in the conference room?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Simone nodded and walked hurriedly past him and back inside the building. Caleb remained rooted in place. He didn’t turn around to watch her walk away. He bowed his head and drew in a few silent, calming breaths. “You’re welcome...” he whispered when he heard the doors slide shut. “Liliana.”

§

October 21, 2012 - 11:34 AM

Alcyone Island

Dion Corporation Board Room

“What’s happened now?” Simone asked as she walked into the board room. Vasco and Lucien were sitting at the table, looking up at one of the projector screens that was airing a newscast from the states.

Lucien waved her over. “Looks like DeMarco’s estimate was off by a few weeks. They just declared Martial Law.”

Simone blinked in surprise. Pulling out a chair, she joined them.

The President of the United States was addressing the nation, and Vasco used the remote to turn up the volume as he began to speak.

“My fellow Americans, I come to you with a heavy heart. As your leader, you have tasked me with making the hard, impossible choices. Today, I must make one of those choices. As you all are well aware, our country is in dire financial straits. My attempts to jump start the economy have failed. Despite the increase in troops to Afghanistan, several immediate pending threats challenge the security and very freedom of our nation. You have demanded a solution, and I have found one. The only one.”

“I don’t get how people can look at him and not realize how full of shit he is,” Lucien muttered. “The only threat to their security is you, asshole!” he yelled at the screen.

“The financial bailouts of 2008 took on the debt of major U.S. corporations. It is a debt now owned by the Federal Reserve, and in order to keep our nation afloat we must call in that money owed. Today, all financial agreements must be paid in full. Those who cannot pay will be given limited options.”

The triplets watched as a sudden panic seemed to escalate from the press in the room. The president had to pause until the noisy hum died down. “Additionally, so that we may preserve the safety of our nation and its people, Congress will vote today for America to merge with Canada and Mexico, forming a North American Union. This has been on the table for discussion for years, and I’m very pleased it will finally come to a resolution. The European Union has been a wonderful model of success, and we have no reason to believe it will be any different here. This move will push us one step closer to a world government of democracy, peace, and safety for all mankind.” The noise level in the room went up again, and the president raised his hand to quiet them. He spoke above them. “Martial law will be in effect while debts are collected. The Federal Emergency Management Agency will be coordinating this juncture. Military police forces will take over the duties of local police. They will also be available to answer questions concerning our new policy in detail, so please don’t hesitate to speak to them. I know, the sight of the military in your hometown can be frightening, but do not be afraid. This is not, I repeat, this is not an act of aggression against American citizens. They are there for your protection so that this new transition can be made as smoothly as possible.”

Simone slowly shook her head. “Did you ever think you’d see the day it came to this?”

“I always thought we’d be the ones giving that speech.” Lucien’s lips twisted wryly.

“They won’t be prisoners for long.” Vasco pressed a button, turning off the newscast. “I wonder if there’s ever been a U.S. president that was not under the Brotherhood’s control.”

“Kennedy.” Lucien got up to help himself to a cup of coffee. “I—Julian—killed him, though.”

Caleb burst into the room. “Your team in Guatemala has just been arrested.”

Vasco released a quiet sigh. Lucien frowned.

“Jesus. Was anyone hurt?” Simone asked.

“The small military squad you sent to watch over them was killed. The scientists are all right, though.”

“What charge are they holding them under?” Lucien asked.

“We don’t know yet. How do you want to handle it?”

Vasco clucked his tongue. “Send an SVT agent to keep their eye on the situation, and the scientists.”

“You don’t want to get them out?” Simone glanced over at her brother.

Vasco shook his head. “No. As much as being in jail probably sucks, we don’t need to stir that hornets’ nest, yet.”

“What do you want to tell Derek’s team?” Simone asked.

“Have Robert tell them they’ve gone offline for a while, for their safety. I don’t want their worry to distract them from their current task. They’ve got to get those weapons finished,” Vasco said.

“Sounds just like Stefano when says shit like that, doesn’t he?” Lucien chuckled.

“Yes, he does.” Simone half-smiled, then looked over at Caleb. She could still taste him. Pushing that knowledge aside, she asked, “Would you update Robert, please?”

Caleb looked at Simone. Vasco better lift that gag order soon, because it was becoming real torture to not be able to act the way he wanted to around her. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Thanks.” Simone stood up.

“We’re you going?” Lucien asked.

“Down to the shooting range. Want to come?”

“Nu uh. I’m going to take a nap. Nobody tell Uncle Christopher.” Lucien stifled a yawn.

“I’ll come with you, Simone.” Vasco stood up. “If I’m going to kill six members of the Brotherhood, I should make sure my aim is on point.”

§

November 25th, 2012 - 12:22 PM

Alexandria, VA

SVT Think Tank

“The only video cameras on their floor are in front of the elevators.”

Olivia sat in the passenger seat of a van with heavily tinted windows, looking at the SVT Think Tank building across the street. “That’s very convenient for us. What time do they leave for lunch?”

“Between twelve-thirty and one. They don’t always go out. Sometimes they use the cafeteria. I hear it’s pretty good,” a SVT agent said.

Olivia looked down at her watch. She needed the scientists to leave. Their departure would provide her agents with the right opportunity to get inside their lab. Cleverly passing it off as a training exercise, she was able to utilize her SVT office to her own ends. Twenty minutes later, Olivia was smiling as she watched Robert leading two others out of the building.

“One’s missing,” the agent said, looking down at his portfolio. “Derek Vaughn isn’t with them.”

Olivia tapped her fingers against her mouth in thought. She’d have to risk it. Reaching up, she touched her ear communicating with the two agents she had waiting to follow the scientists when they left. “Operation Watchtower is a go. And remember, we’re on a time table. Your success in this assignment will heavily influence whether or not I determine I need you on this team.”

“Roger that, Alpha. We’re following the targets now.”

Perfect, Olivia thought. She climbed into the back of the van. In order to make Operation Watchtower a success, her agents need only swipe one of the team members’ access cards and bring it to her.

Thirty minutes later, the back of the van opened, and one of her agents was standing there, dangling Dr. Shirley McDermott’s access card from his fingers. “Well done.” Olivia put a red wig on her head and slipped the colored contacts into her eyes. “Put me in the security system, Ray.”

When one knew how a system was set up, it wasn’t difficult to hack into it. Five minutes later, Olivia’s retinal signature replaced Shirley’s. “You are good to go, Alpha,” the SVT agent said.

“Good.” Letting herself out of the van, Olivia slipped her arms into a white lab coat, held the access card casually in her hand, and walked into the building. Lunch time saw a decent flow of traffic in and out of the building, and Olivia took full advantage, merging with a small group of employees as they walked past the security station as if she were a part of it. The group got off the elevator on level two. She slid the card into the slot and pressed the button for the fourth floor. The panel beeped and a computerized voice said, “Good afternoon Doctor. Please identify yourself.” Olivia leaned forward so the retinal scan panel could scan her eye. “Confirmed. Dr. Shirley McDermott. Welcome back,” the computerized voice said as the elevator began moving.

“Alpha, this is Red.” A voice came through Olivia's earpiece. “I’m in their security system. There is no one in front of the elevators. You are clear.”

Even better, Olivia thought. The doors slid open, and Olivia stepped out cautiously, pausing to listen. It was quiet. Derek was probably in his office. She walked quickly past the spiral staircase, toward the empty lab. She pressed Shirley’s ID card against the security panel and the door slide open.

It was obvious from the setup inside the lab that Derek and his team were building something—some sort of device. Olivia walked to one of the cases, and lifted the unlocked lid. She didn’t recognize the device inside, but she guessed it was some sort of weapon. Pulling out her cell phone, she took a picture. Closing the lid on the case, she opened up three more. They contained the same strange weapon, but the fourth made her gasp in surprise. Inside was the mirror image of the crystal rod that Loki had been carrying, that Enlil had been so happy to discover.

If she brought the rod to Enlil, then she could stop jumping through hoops to win his favor. Decision made, Olivia snapped the case shut and wrapped her fingers around the handle.

A stern voice sounded behind her: “Don’t move.”

Olivia went deadly still. Fuck. She never heard the door open. She did hear the click of the gun being cocked and probably pointed at her head. “Easy,” Olivia said. “I work here.”

“No, you don’t.” The Cadre tipped his chin down towards his shoulder where his radio was attached. “We have a sit—”

Olivia whirled around smacked the Cadre with the case. He released a startled grunt, and Olivia hit him with the case again, hard against the side of his head. The man hit the floor, but the case opened and the rod spilled out, clattering to the floor and rolling halfway across the room as if it was trying to get away from her.

The radio on the Cadre’s shoulder echoed out: “Brian, do you copy? We’re coming downstairs.”

Growling, Olivia kicked the fallen solider in the stomach, then touched her earpiece. “Red, do you read me? Set off the fire alarms, now. Hurry.” She jerked her eyes over to the crystal, just as the Cadre groaned and started coming out of his daze. She wanted to run over and grab it, but she couldn’t risk getting caught. She would have to leave it. She rushed out of the lab room to the sound of heavy footsteps coming down the spiral staircase, and pulled the gun from her back. She lifted the weapon and started firing towards the stairs, the bullets striking metal and sending off sparks, the noise of gunfire halting the Cadre coming to check on their comrade. Olivia squeezed the trigger a few more times as she slammed her shoulder into the stairwell door, pushing through it. Just as she got there, the fire alarm went off, an insanely loud, annoying noise. She tore off down the stairs, and people started filing in with her. She hid the gun back under her lab coat, ducked her head down, and blended in with the crowd.

Once outside, Olivia broke past the crowd just as fire trucks screeched to a halt in front of the building. She was at the van when she heard the shout for her to stop, and saw the Cadre running towards her.

Smirking, she fired a few rounds in their direction before she closed the door, snapping at the agent in the driver’s seat. “What are you waiting for? Go!”

The young man looked startled at the live gunfire but peeled out, tires squealing. Olivia ripped off her wig, and climbed into the passenger seat. She patted the man’s arm comfortingly. “Well done, Agent.”

“That looked a very real, ma’am.” The Agent shot Olivia a sideways glance.

Olivia smiled “It’s supposed to. How else will I determine how well you can react under duress? Take us back to the office.” She needed to get in touch with Dominic.

§

November 25, 2012 - 3:33 PM

Alcyone Island

Dion Corporation Headquarters

“Someone broke into SVT Think Tank.”

Vasco sat behind his desk and arched a sharp brow at Caleb. “Continue.”

“They didn’t steal anything. Luckily, one of the Cadre assigned to Robert caught the woman as she was trying to take the crystal.”

“Anyone hurt?”

“No, nothing serious. She got away, though, and we can’t make out her face on the security cameras.”

Vasco clucked his tongue thoughtfully. “All right. I want the whole operation moved to the Compound. Do it quietly, very quietly.”

“Yes, Mr. President.” Caleb turned to leave, but paused. He looked back at Vasco. “Sir, about the gag order.”

A subtle smile touched Vasco’s mouth. “I imagine it must get harder every day.”

Caleb matched Vasco’s smile. “Yes, sir, it does.”

“Soon, Caleb. A few days more soon. Let me know once our braniac team is at the compound.”

Hope and anticipation flared hotly in Caleb's gut. “Yes, sir.”

§

November 30, 2012 - 9:12 PM

MIEC

The Octopus

“I was right in my assumption. The crystal has made ELMINT stronger.”

Alex smiled as he and Enlil waited for the underwater train to arrive. “That’s good news, my Lord.” Fucking Anunnaki, Alex thought. There had been a two hundred year period the Anunnaki had left the planet, and put sole control in the hands of the Brotherhood. The Anunnaki had had matters on their home planet to attend to, and they wanted to explore the inside of the Moon. Earth’s moon was a giant space vessel built specifically to monitor the planet. At some point in the galaxy’s history, it had come under attack, as visible by the many craters on its surface. Whatever race had built it had vanished without a trace, but the technology they left behind was of some curiosity to the Anunnaki.

On Earth, during the time that the Anunnaki were gone, seven different alien races came to visit, and a few attempted to assist humanity in breaking loose of some of its chains. It was also while the Anunnaki were gone that the Brotherhood began to disagree with itself on how to handle the masses. A united core of thirteen split into three separate camps, and their internal battle lasted for seven decades. When the Anunnaki returned, humanity was breaking free, the Brotherhood was losing control, and it seemed the Ascension was finally imminent. It was because of Enlil’s skill as both a general and a leader that the attempt was thwarted, and the Brotherhood was put back together. Those were considered the dark days for the Brotherhood; several of the elite bluebloods were killed, entire families removed and replaced with the next waiting to be chosen worthy. It was because of the Brotherhood’s errors that Enlil had realized that the Anunnaki needed to be more effective at handling leaks of information. The public had suddenly known too much, and the only way to combat that was to give them alternative versions of the same story from seemingly credible sources. It had gotten to the point that they needed to control not just conspiracy theorists, but spiritualists, too.

“It is. Everything is right on point.” Enlil stepped into the luxurious train cabin first, and Alex followed obediently behind him. Underneath the Statue of Liberty—which was a tribute to Isis, the wife of Enlil who died during one of The Great Wars—was the entrance to the underwater tunnel that connected the United States and Australia. It went straight to the Military Industrial Extra-terrestrial Complex, classified as a D2, called The Octopus.

The Octopus was one of five M.I.E.C.’s on Earth. Anunnaki and Zeta scientists worked alongside select, mind-controlled, and cult conditioned humans. Contrary to conspiracy theorists’ beliefs, Dulce was no longer a joint alien/human base. After a group of rebellious Zetas and humans tried to burn it down, the Brotherhood and Anunnaki Council decided to keep all such bases underwater. The Octopus had two main objectives. The first was to perfect the Programmable Life Forms. Known as PLFs, they were robots with organic parts. The second base objective was mind control through channeling and false mystical experiences.

Using an advanced form of HAARP, the Brotherhood frequently made NSA selected individuals believe they were channeling some mystical being. The target thought he or she was communing with angels or benevolent aliens, when in truth, they were talking to someone in the base who was literally reading a script. What kind of person was targeted and what information was fed to them was the responsibility of the Tavistock Institute and RAND Corporation. History proved how exceptional they were at it.

Now that martial law had been declared nearly worldwide, the Brotherhood would need these machines much less. Alex looked out the window, watching the underwater tunnel blur by as the high speed train traveled at 1500 mph towards The Octopus. Alex often marveled at the things human beings were capable of; especially when he looked at things like the Octopus. Its design had come from human ingenuity. Alien technology made it possible. It was a huge dome, with six separate arms extending out from it, each housing a different function of the base. At this depth, the sun’s rays didn’t penetrate the ocean, making windows pointless. The only light that emanated from the dome was a dull blue glow that pulsed rhythmically from the roof.

“Tell me, have there been any improvements in the escalation of violence because of martial law?” Enlil asked.

Alex shook his head and feigned annoyance. “No. It’s all gone, surprisingly, very peacefully, and we don’t understand it. The amount of violent outbreaks has been extremely low. Even in the camps, people are not combative. They’re angry, but they’re peaceful, forgiving almost. It’s very strange.”

Enlil growled. “Damn this ascension. It won’t happen. I’ll be dead before I let it happen.”

“Of course it won’t, my God. It’s impossible. Wait until after the winter solstice. The people will change their tune then.” Alex assured him.

“Yes. Yes, they will,” Enlil promised with malevolent intent. “I’ve decided to move up the attack on Terenzio.”

Alex didn’t miss a beat. “If you think that’s best. May I ask why, my God?”

“Olivia confirmed that they have the second crystal. They are also building what sounds to me like one of Tesla weapons. I knew Stefano stole one, I just could not locate it.”

“Good idea, then. Who did you send?”

“Family against family. Except one side is going to have a little help.” Enlil smiled coldly. “After killing a few thousand humans, we’ve finally gotten the new PLF’s operational. They’re going to get their first test run against the Terenzios.”

Chapter 14

“To put the world right in order, we must first put the nation in order; to put the nation in order, we must first put the family in order; to put the family in order, we must first cultivate our personal life; we must first set our hearts right.”

- Confucius

December 1st, 2012 - 10:11 PM

Alcyone Island

Phoenix Resort Hotel

*They were twenty days away. Twenty days from the end of this war, and the undeniable fact that someone would be proven right. It came down to a very simple, startling duality; the Ascension would happen, or it wouldn’t. There was no in between. No more walking the line for humanity, a choice had to be made. Even with that tension hanging in the air, the family decided to celebrate. Isabella had insisted. The triplets were thrown a birthday party, day of. And the elders of the family had spared no expense on the young heirs, the ballroom of the Phoenix Resort Hotel turned into a private, festive celebration that spilled out onto the beach. The majority of the family was there, except Amadeo and Olivia, but their absence didn’t surprise anyone.

Security was on high alert for obvious reasons, and the area was patrol with Dion security, military police, and the Omega Cadre themselves standing in the shadows, against walls, and on either side of the open doorways. They prowled between the crowds of people on the dance floor, or out on the beach, watching the party-goers taking advantage of the free liquor, and doing the occasional drug. Every thirty minutes or so, the distant hum of a helicopter tainted the noise of the party goers, the music that thundered from the wireless speakers, and the steel drums and bongos played by the bohemians near the bonfire-lined ocean.

Caleb was armed, but not dressed in the uniform of Dion security with the Phoenix symbol and company words bled in red on the right hand side of black suit jackets. He wore the fitted tuxedo Lucien had taken him to get hours earlier. His ear piece was in place, but it stayed silent. It was for emergencies only. Period. It wasn’t just Terenzio’s night for celebration.

Caleb moved as fluidly as a Terenzio, but with his own unique style; the easy arrogance of the fighter pilot he had once been and the hint of charm that bled off a southern gentlemen; the confident way his body smoothly maneuvered through the crowd, because of who he was now; deceptively languid, but on complete alert. He was a man on a mission, a man who had bar¬ely taken his eyes off of Simone Terenzio, who was dancing with her older brother.

At Simone's request Vasco had pulled himself from his corner of solitude and taken her out onto the dance floor. "You're not allowed to ask me again for a week. I promise I'm fine."

Simone smirked softly, setting one hand in Vasco's and placing the other on his shoulder. "You've heard that tired old cliché, haven't you? About what 'fine' really stands for?"

Vasco chuckled lightly, shaking his head. "That doesn't apply here. I'm just not colorful enough to use any other adjective." He led Simone into the simple step dictated by the rhythm of the music, but did confess something a moment after. "I miss her. That's all."

Simone’s heart tightened with sympathy. So did her hands. "I know," she said quietly, glancing down at the square of dance floor beneath their feet. She, of all people, knew what it meant to truly miss someone. She felt the hollow ringing of loss—intensified, perhaps, because her soul's twin had seen fit to take another spin at this thing called life in none other than Caleb Kincade. Simone laughed, almost to herself, and shook her head as she lifted it. "Come on, Vasco. Be a Terenzio. Suck it up."

"I am. I haven't cried once." Well, not since he had the first time, Vasco thought. "An urge my alter ego is horrified was ever an option." Amusement flickered briefly through his eyes. "How's life without Victor?"

Simone laughed again, and it wasn't to herself. "It isn't dull, but I don't know how to describe it better than that."

The humor in Vasco's eyes lifted from Simone to some point over her shoulder; more specifically to a figure moving through the crowd behind her. A subtle smile crawled across Vasco's mouth. Simone narrowed her eyes. Vasco only smiled like that when he was up to something. She opened her mouth to demand just what he was plotting, but Vasco interrupted her. "We can do better than that." He tipped his head close to Simone's and whispered, “He’s a little less of a pussy this lifetime." Vasco drew back and spun Simone out from him, releasing her hand.

He knew. Vasco knew?! The whole fucking time, Simone seethed, Vasco knew the truth about Caleb, and he hadn't bothered to tell her? Fury licked up Simone's spine, stiffening it. That same fury dissolved in a tingling flush of anticipation as someone caught her hand. That someone was Caleb. Simone opened her mouth a second time, and still no words came.

Caleb curled his fingers around Simone’s and drew them into his chest. He had been waiting for this moment for the stretch of his lifetime. A few hours ago, for whatever reason, Vasco had lifted the gag order. It hadn't come a moment too soon, either, because Caleb had been days away from taking matters—her—into his own hands. He slid his arm around Simone's waist, pulled her closer, and silently led her away from the crowd and back onto the floor. For the first time—openly, at least—there was nothing remotely professional about the way he was looking at her. He had never looked at her like that; not in this lifetime. "Happy Birthday,” he said quietly.

Simone's body tightened as a heady rush of longing swept through her. For the last five months Caleb had been a permanent fixture in her life. He was always there—sometimes standing just out of sight—ever vigilant, but never obtrusive. The moment he took her into his arms, his presence overwhelmed her. He consumed each of her senses. Simone tightened her fingers around his before the current bore her away, and lifted her gaze to his. "Thank you," she said just as softly.

He leaned forward, brushing his cheek against hers, and said, “Since you made me ask you to marry me twice, I decided to recruit some help with the dance."

§

December 1, 2012 - 10:11 AM

Loyalty Airlines International Airport

Cargo Runway #17

Amadeo sat in the backseat of the sedan parked on the runway. Olivia was next to him, lighting a cigarette. He pressed the button to crack her window himself and asked, “What time is it?”

Olivia looked down at her diamond and gold watch. “Fifteen past the hour.”

Amadeo pulled the cell phone out of the inside of his suit jacket. “Is Kayla sure about this?”

Olivia snapped her eyes over to him. “When did you turn into such a fucking pussy? Haven’t we been waiting long enough for this day? Make the call.”

Giving his cousin a hard look, Amadeo pressed the speed dial button, and then brought the phone up to his ear.

“Yes?”

“Nicholas, where are you?”

“On my way to the triplets’ party.”

“We’ll all go together. Meet us at the airport. Runway 17.” Amadeo reached over for his cousin’s cigarette, plucking it out of her fingers, and pulled hard on the filtered end.

“When?” Nicholas asked.

“Now.”

§

December 1, 2012 - 10:22 PM

Alcyone Island

Phoenix Resort Hotel

Simone closed her eyes, slipping her arm around Caleb's shoulders and digging her fingers into his shirt. A sharp peal of emotion knifed through her, and she released a hard, shuddering breath. He knew, too, she thought. Jesus Christ, he knew. And suddenly, every reason why she couldn’t have a happy ending with Caleb floated right out the window. She could have the now. Fighting the urge to fan her lips against his jaw, Simone turned her face into the warmth of Caleb’s neck. A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "So, you're planning to ask me a third time?"

Caleb couldn't have asked for a more perfect reaction. He turned his face into Simone’s hair and pulled her closer to him, his feet barely moving over the floor. "Only if you promise to say yes the first time."

Simone drew back, but only as far as she needed to in order to hold Caleb’s face between her hands and look at him; really see him, because burbling through the tide of happiness that swept through her was a hint of misgiving. "You want to do that? Take a chance on a woman you barely know, for the woman she used to be?"

"Not just because of the woman you used to be. Because of the woman you are now." Caleb pressed his face closer, so he could set his forehead against hers. "You can't hide from me, in any incarnation. I know you."

No one had known Liliana like Kyle had. No one had loved Liliana like Kyle had, either. Ever. In that moment, Simone knew that she could feel for no one what she felt for Caleb. She closed her eyes, drew a deep breath, and tightened her hands. "Then kiss me," she breathed, opening her eyes and locking their gazes. "Really kiss me, and don't stop."

§

December 1, 2012 - 10:22 PM

Loyalty Airlines International Airport

Cargo Runway #17

“Why am I here?” Nicholas leaned down into the open window of his cousins’ sedan.

“Call it in that the security team for this shipment is going radio silent for fifteen minutes,” Amadeo said.

Nicholas arched a brow. “Why?”

“Obviously, because it’s not cargo in that plane, Nicky.” Olivia gave him a condescending smile. “Just do it.”

Nicholas ignored Olivia’s crassness, lapsing into thought. “I can’t guarantee this. Not with all the new security protocols in place.”

“Be convincing,” Amadeo said. “The plane lands in ten minutes.”

“Do this right, Nicky, and you’ll never miss a tip from the Brotherhood again.” Olivia winked.

The look that Nicholas gave Olivia was sharp and deadly. Warning. He didn’t give a fuck what rank she was, he would kill her if she made a remark like that again. “I’ll see what I can do.” Stepping away from their car, he jogged over to the hangar. Flashing his credentials to the guard, he waited while the Dion Corp security guard pulled the finger print scanner from his pocket and pressed Nicholas’s thumb onto it. Identity confirmed, the guard opened the door to the wide, open space ready for one of the usual late night transports. Five guards prowled the perimeter, always alert. Three Packdog Operators stood near the waist high robots that would unload the plane’s cargo, smoking and chatting. Nicholas climbed a metal staircase to the small office above the hangar’s security pod.

Nicholas smiled at the sergeant in charge. “I need to radio into headquarters.”

§

December 1, 2012 - 10:25 PM

Alcyone Island

Phoenix Resort Hotel

Heedless of the game in which Simone was submerged, the eyes on them, or the crowd that surrounded them, Caleb’s arms engulfed her as he brought his chin down and covered her mouth with the needy weight of his own.

A flood of memories surged through Simone, filling her mind with glimpses of their past; his face—Kyle’s face--limned with early morning light, crisp sheets folded against the blade of his hip, the eager grip of his hands on her shoulders, his mouth on her breast; moments of tender affection and explosive passion that settled in her consciousness like dust on a windowsill, only to burst into the air in a flurry of golden chaos as the past gave way to the present and left her reeling; left only Caleb, with his heart beating against her chest and the taste of him on her tongue. Making a quiet but fierce sound of need into his mouth, Simone wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body flush against his.

Caleb didn’t want to break the contact. He truly didn't. He wanted to trace the curves of Simone’s body with the warm pressure of his hands and reacquaint himself with every inch of her. He wanted to reminder her, in this lifetime, what it felt like to be loved.

He was going to, just in a more private setting.

With great effort, Caleb pulled his mouth away from Simone’s. "I have a suite upstairs. And as soon as we get there, I promise, I'm not going to stop kissing you," he whispered, and drew back, only to take Simone’s hand and fold it in the crook of his arm.

Neither of them noticed the almost too intent stare of Kayla. Pausing mid-sentence in her conversation with Dominic, Kayla took a step to the right and watched Caleb and Simone walk over to the bank of elevators. Across the room, standing at the bar behind Lucien—who was actively engaged in talking to his “birthday presents”—Vasco noticed. It was the first time that he had seen an openly predatory look in his aunt’s eyes. It gave birth not to a sense of dread, but one of cold knowing. He desperately hoped he was wrong.

§

December 1, 2012 - 10:33 PM

Loyalty Airlines International Airport

Cargo Runway #17

Nicholas walked back to the Sedan, tucking his hands into the pockets of his light coat. It never got very cold on the island, even in the winter, just windy and rainy. “It’s done,” he said when Olivia rolled down her window.

Olivia eyed him with patient amusement over the rim of a raised glass. “Great job, Nicky.”

“What did you tell them?” Amadeo asked, leaning over to look up at Nicholas

“I told them I had a birthday present for the triplets on the plane, and since it had to be taken out of the crate before it was delivered, I didn’t want the potential for a leak. I said I needed fifteen minutes and that Lieutenant General Terenzio was with me to ensure security while communications was down.”

“That’s very smart of you.” Olivia winked at him, and then turned her head to watch as the big cargo plane made a smooth landing on the runway. It taxied slowly inside the hangar, and two outside guards pulled the big metal doors shut.

“What’s on the plane?” Nicholas eyed the two of them.

The sound of fierce shouts and the dull thud of gunfire tainted the air of the immediate vicinity. A dark smile spread across Olivia’s mouth. “A present from the Brotherhood.”

§

December 1, 2012 - 10:33 PM

Alcyone Island

Phoenix Resort Hotel

Caleb had Kyle's eyes. Simone felt him in Caleb's touch. She saw the same humor glinting in the glances he had cast her way. Their personalities weren't all that different, but that was where the similarities ended. Caleb did not taste like Kyle. He did not smell like Kyle. The angles of his body felt foreign beneath her hands, but he was warm. He was reassuringly solid, and she had wondered for some time now just what it would be like to be pressed against him in a moment like this. It was exquisite. Traces of the man he had been mingled with the man he was, the man who had driven Simone quietly crazy the last five months, and she was powerless against the pull of her body and the call of her heart. Echoing the groan that escaped Caleb when she yanked him into the elevator and kissed him, she ripped open his shirt, heedless of their surroundings. Caleb gave a short, husky laugh against her mouth. "If you keep that up—” He was forced to hiss in a breath when Simone smoothed her hands over his chest. “—we'll never make it to the room."

"That's never stopped us,” Simone panted, lifting into Caleb to claim his mouth again. He did nothing to help the matter by kissing her back, harder. Absently, he heard the elevator ding and doors behind him open. At the last possible second, he jerked his foot back, his heel catching the doors to make them reopen. Caleb swept Simone into his arms, backing out of the car.

Bumping their way down the hall, Simone plied hot, open-mouthed kisses over the side of his neck and into the hollow of his throat, and wrapped her legs around his waist. Her shoulders barked up against a door. “Keycard,” Caleb mumbled against the curve of her jaw. “Pocket.” Simone slipped a hand into his pocket, seized the keycard, and reached behind her to slide it into the lock.

"Doorknob," she murmured into the underside of his chin. "Now."

§

December 1, 2012 - 10:35 PM

Loyalty Airlines International Airport

Cargo Runway #17

The first version of Programmable Life Forms were government sanctioned, genetically created grey aliens designed to “abduct humans.” The first version allowed the Roshaniya to test their mind control technology on unwitting suspects as well as explore forms of genetic manipulation. The newest version of the PLFs, as they were called, were actually soldiers to use in combat. They were all six feet tall, thickly muscular, with solid, soulless black eyes that had no irises. They were dressed in Special Forces fatigues, with the All Seeing Eye that was found on the back of the one dollar bill tattooed on their left cheeks.

Nicholas stared in shock as they marched out of the hanger. One PLF broke the rigid formation to shoot both outside guards, then fell back into the marching line. Amadeo got out of the car just as a line of SUVs came screeching to a halt near his vehicle.

“When the mafia is just not enough.” Olivia was almost orgasmic. “Time to take this family back.”

The PLFs stopped in front of the cars. One broke formation again, coming from the far right side to meet Amadeo’s approach. Amadeo shook the captain’s gloved hand. “You were briefed?”

“Yes, sir. On the plane.” The PLF’s voice was low and creepily monotone.

“I’m looking forward to seeing your men in action, Captain.” Amadeo removed the keycard from his pocket, passing it over to the PLF. “You’ll need that to get into the security center.”

“Yes, sir.” The captain saluted Amadeo, and then turned on his heel and shouted a command. The rest of his men fanned out and climbed into the SUVs. Amadeo watched them move, a sense of finality sharpening the reality of the moment.

“We’re on a time table, cousin!”

Olivia’s shout pulled Amadeo into motion, and he got back into the sedan. “Meet us at the hotel, Nicky,” Olivia said, rolling up her window. Their car led the deadly entourage from the back roads and straight for downtown.

Nicholas climbed back into his own sporty vehicle and immediately pulled the cell from his pocket. “Name dial, Leone Vaughn.”

§

December 1, 2012 - 10:44 PM

Alcyone Island

Phoenix Resort Hotel

Caleb twisted the knob, uncharacteristically clumsy in his passion and haste. He kicked the door shut and didn't bother with a light. He bumped into an end table, which sent a lamp crashing to the floor, and Simone caught them against the wall, distractedly hoping in that precarious moment that they didn't fall. Heedless of the small destruction, Caleb kept moving, until they tumbled over the arm of the couch. He yanked out his earpiece, and quickly set his sidearm on the floor. Once his hands were free, he impatiently pushed the beautiful dress up Simone’s thighs and set his mouth open and warm against the column of her throat, the tip of his tongue marking a damp path on her skin.

Simone shuddered. Closing her eyes and drawing a sharp breath, she arched into Caleb and tugged his undershirt over his head, so that she could kiss the warm slope of his shoulder and tease the tightly coiled muscles with the scrape of her teeth. For a moment, Caleb savored the heated play of Simone’s lips and teeth. In the next, her dress joined his shirt in a pile on the floor. Intimate columns of moonlight gazed in through the tall windows of the suite, exposing all of Simone’s sexy, feminine curves to the natural light and Caleb’s heated, memorizing gaze.

"Christ, you’re beautiful," Caleb whispered as he cupped a strong hand around the curve of her breast and lifted it to his eager mouth.

§

“I think we have a problem.” Vasco touched his brother’s shoulder.

Lucien set his empty glass on the bar, excused himself from the women, and turned to his brother. “What’s wrong?”

Vasco didn’t answer right away. He watched Kayla pull her cell phone out of her pocket and step away from the crowd to take a call.

“V?”

“Call Headquarters, tell them to get our plane ready and have a team standing by. Operation Ghost is a go, right now.”

Lucien’s brows shot up, but he didn’t hesitate to pull the phone from his pocket, pressing the speed dial button. “Talk to me, brother.”

Vasco took a step away from the bar as a line of SUVs came screeching to a halt on the sandy beach, earning angry shouts from the party goers. “The Brotherhood’s calling check.”

§

“Me?" Simone looked down at Caleb, lightly shivering as he set his mouth on her and flushed her with heat. "Look at you." Pressed over her body and with cool moonlight slanting down his back, he could have been a Grecian statue, hewn out of marble and exquisitely detailed. Simone had seen him—Kyle—from this angle countless times, and the sight still sent a peal of sensation right through the middle of her, down to the damp heat growing between her thighs.

Caleb laughed huskily against her skin. He lifted his head, and his humor faded in the darkened, passionate glow of Simone’s gray eyes. He captured her mouth, got rid of his pants, and then he rose over her, to position himself between her thighs.

Simone cupped Caleb’s face between her hands, holding him against her as she kissed him slowly and deeply, over and over, and grazed his hips with her thighs. "Don't stop." Soft pleading limned the edges of her murmur. "Caleb, don't ever stop."

§

“Goddammit, Amadeo, stop!” Christopher shout¬ed furiously.

The party had been over run. One moment, there was celebration, family and friends. Now, dead bodies littered the floor. Most were security. The ballroom doors that faced the beach had been yanked shut and were guarded by the PLFs.

Those still alive were being held at gun point, by their own family. Nicholas had looked briefly surprised to discover that his father was actually part of all of this, and immediately wonder if the old man had known about his family.

Once some measure of order was attained, Amadeo went over to Lucien and struck him.

Lucien grunted, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. He worked his jaw back and forth, wincing slightly, and leveled his gaze on Amadeo. “Your uniform shouldn’t read Lieutenant General. We’re going to give you a new special title: Olivia’s bitch.”

Amadeo hit him again, viciously. When Lucien fell to the floor, he began kicking him. Stopping at Christopher’s shout, Amadeo smirked coldly. “He’s not going to be alive much longer to protect you, Lucien. Don’t feel too secure, all right?”

“Go fuck yourself, Amadeo,” Lucien wheezed.

It was difficult to watch his brother get beaten and not lose face. But, he managed. “How do you intend to get away with this?” Vasco asked nonchalantly.

Olivia set a calming hand on Amadeo’s shoulder and looked pointedly at Vasco. “When you’re all dead, the army will have no choice but to follow our orders. And there are more of us on the way.” Her smile was razor sharp. “Where’s your sister?”

When Kayla finished giving an order to PLFs’ captain, she walked over to Isabella and Christopher. “I know where they are.”

§

Don't stop. As if he ever could. Neither could he make them wait any longer. Caleb curved his hand around Simone’s hip, stilling her for the slow penetration that took his breath away.

This was what love felt like, Simone thought. The faint stirrings of affection that she had felt for Victor, once upon a time, were like tiny sparks flickering in the dark. They were nothing compared to this consuming blaze of emotion. She lifted into Caleb, reaching for him with her hips, and moaned into his shoulder as he slid home.

Caleb’s eyes snapped shut as Simone closed around him, pulling him deeper. She felt so good, he thought it impossible that he could spend any lifetime without her. Struck with the blissful weight of emotion and the nerve blazing passion that wracked him, he lifted his head just to press his cheek against hers and breathed into her ear, "I love you. I know I do."

Shuddering under the sweet torture of Caleb’s words and the delicious friction of their bodies, Simone pressed a hand to his cheek and held him close, committing to memory the way the light played over his shoulders and silvered the fine hairs on his arms. This would be a moment she would remember for ages. "I love you," she murmured with breathless intensity. How could she not love the man who she had loved countless times before? "I always have. I always will."

"Show me.” Caleb demanded huskily, a second before his mouth smothered hers.

§

“Show us, Christopher. Show us all that proud loyalty, now.” Dominic’s smile was cold and laced with the shadow of victory as he watched Kayla walk over to Christopher, pull back the hammer on her revolver and press the muzzle against his forehead.

Isabella let her eyes fall shut. She was no fool; she knew what happened next—to her little brother. Her heart began to ache, and her years felt like a sudden weight on her back. She pressed her hand to the left and found John’s, squeezing it tightly. John had been in charge of her personal security for years. And some of the rumors about their relationship were true. It was a small comfort when he squeezed back.

Kayla’s gray eyes were a blank steel wall as they locked with Christopher’s. “Choose.”

§

Simone had little choice, as those two simple words infused her with a fresh dose of memories. How many times had Kyle said them to her the lifetime before? A hundred times? A thousand? And how many times had those two simple words coursed through her, ripping a sharp cry of pleasure out of her? At least once more, before Caleb sealed their mouths and the first tightening of sensation slipped through her. Simone pressed against him. She lifted her hips. She spread her knees and dug her nails into his shoulders, urging him closer, begging him deeper as she slaked her thirst for old lusts and new love in the heat of his mouth.

§

Christopher stared up at Kayla. “Your father knew what you were, Kayla. We all did. He loved you. We loved you. Be a part of this family. Stand on the right side.” The latter sharpened and raised his voice, his heavy mix of emotions tightly expressed.

There were five seconds of silence. Lucien felt like his heart was going to pop as he watched; felt like the breath would never get down into his lungs. His eyes darted from Kayla’s gun to Uncle Christopher’s face. He had to do something. Someone had to do something.

Vasco kept his steady, impassive gaze on Olivia and Amadeo. Inside, the heart that lived with the pain of the loss of three others prepared for the loss of another. Goodbye, Christopher.

“Wrong answer,” Kayla said softly. She squeezed the trigger.

§

Simone’s cry vibrated against the hard, messy press of their mouths. Caleb pulled back, but only far enough that he could watch the way the lines of pleasure moved on her face, so he could make a new memory and paint it in the color of her eyes, drowned in passion, dark with love. He wanted her to be as lost as he was; so far gone that past and present collided and exploded, leaving nothing but the emotion that had brought them together from one lifetime to the next. Caleb demanded more out of her, tested the nearly nonexistent lines of his own control when he met her raised hips with shorter thrusts. Each hard movement earned Simone’s answering cry. Each cry was sharper than the last. Every touch became more desperate, until she was clutching at him, raking him with her nails, and writhing beneath him. Sweat glistened in the hollows of her body. Her breath came in half, shuddering gasps. She kissed him hard enough that she tasted blood.

"Caleb," she panted, "I'm… Kyle, I'm—!" Simone went rigid, breathless anticipation etched onto her face, and with a wavering cry of release, she broke.

§

“You fucking bitch!” Lucien jumped up from the floor in a blind rage, and was knocked down again by the furious strike from the butt of Amadeo’s gun. He didn’t get back up.

Olivia smirked, and spoke to Lucien’s motionless form. “Don’t worry, she’ll ask you, too.”

A single tear slipped from the corner of Isabella’s eyes as she heard the sickening thumb of her brother’s body hitting the floor. Kayla stepped in front of her. Isabella looked up at Kayla with firm; immovable Terenzio resolve. “You know my answer.”

Kayla pressed the muzzle of her gun against Isabella’s forehead. “Yes, I do.”

§

Caleb groaned roughly into her hard kiss and went with her, shuddering against her, pulsing hotly, deeply inside of her and clutching her to him in a bruising grip that would leave its own passionate mark.

Surrender had never been so sweet.

Trembling from exertion, Simone sank into the welcoming folds of the couch and pulled Caleb down with her, pressing a damp, flushed cheek to his. Her heart pounded against his chest, beating an answering rhythm to his own. Smiling faintly, she closed her eyes and let herself drift in the haze left in pleasure's wake.

When he could catch his breath, Caleb murmured lazily against her skin, "Do you know how long I've wanted to do that to you?"

§

“Do you know how long we’ve been waiting to do this?” Olivia asked Vasco

Ignoring Olivia, Vasco called out to Kayla, “If only your mother could see you, now.”

Four out of five pounds of pressure sat on the trigger of Kayla’s gun. Isabella was certain she saw something move, come to life, in Kayla’s cold, blank stare.

“If you don’t shut up, Vasco, I’m going to make you.” Dominic slanted his darkly promising eyes over to his cousin.

“You remember Marilyn, don’t you?” Vasco asked, ignoring Dominic’s warnings.

Kayla stiffened, turned her head, and set the full force of her gaze on Vasco.

The corner of Vasco’s mouth curled; just enough. A second later, the door at the far end of the ballroom blew open.

§

Simone pieced together the presence of mind to laugh, and to give Caleb’s shoulders a light squeeze. "No, I don't." Her smile deepened when she caught a glimpse of his, and she tilted her head back to meet his eyes. She stroked his face. "How long?"

Caleb took the opportunity to kiss her, softly. "First time we met, five years ago. The day I dropped coffee on your shoe." His smile grew.

Simone grinned faintly. Had he known who she used to be on the day he spilled coffee on her shoe? Had he known who he used to be? She opened her mouth to ask him those very questions when his phone buzzed across the floor. Caleb tensed and pushed off her. It was the last thing that he wanted to do, but, if his phone was ringing, nothing good was happening. "You should probably start getting dressed."

It wasn't the phone call itself that had Simone moving, but the tension in Caleb’s body, and then his suggestion. She pushed off of the couch and snatched her dress off of the floor. "What's wrong?"

Caleb looked down at the message that appeared, and his blood ran cold. “Everything.”

Chapter 15

“The most authentic thing about us is our capacity to create, to overcome, to endure, to transform, to love and to be greater than our suffering.”

–Ben Okri

December 1, 2012 - 11:22 PM

Alcyone Island

Phoenix Resort Hotel

When the door blew open, all hell broke loose a second time. All eyes flew to the smoke filling the entrance way. It barely concealed the movement of the military police as they began to rush into the room, guns blazing. John threw his body into Isabella’s, knocking her to the floor and out from underneath the muzzle of Kayla’s gun. Vasco took advantage of the distraction, lowered his shoulder, and went barreling into Amadeo and subsequently Olivia. Thrown off balance, Amadeo went crashing to the floor under Vasco’s weight and Olivia stumbled backwards, barely managing to catch herself on a bar stool.

Kayla drew her gun’s attention away from Isabella and pointed it towards the doors, backing up as the PLFs moved to cover her. Another explosion rocked the room when the second ballroom door blasted open, this one behind Vasco’s position. A swarm of Dion Corp Security guards came rushing in, crouching down and moving quickly over to the two heirs.

Amadeo moved fast, throwing his fist up into Vasco’s jaw and flipping him off. Amadeo clambered to his feet, just to duck down as bullets flew over his head, coming from the Dion Corp guards. Amadeo grabbed Olivia by the arm and pulled her towards the doors that led out to the beach. One of the doors stood open, with a member of the PLFs crouched inside of it and waving a hand at them.

“C’mon, we’ve got to go!” Amadeo shouted at her.

“No, we don’t!” Olivia wrenched back from his grip, pointing her gun at Vasco, who was bent over trying to pull up his brother. “Not until they’re dead!”

The MPs formed a line and raised their bullet proof shields to provide cover. Leone saw Olivia from across the room, raised his own gun, and fired at her. Luckily, Amadeo saw it and knocked Olivia to the ground just as she pulled her own trigger, both bullets barely missing their targets.

“We can’t kill them in here. Wait for back up. They won’t get off the island alive,” Amadeo hissed, and roughly grabbed Olivia’s arm and hauled her to her feet, dragging her.

John got Isabella safely out into the hallway. She was shaken, but otherwise as sharp as ever and mad as hell. “Get me a radio. Is the triplets’ plane ready?”

“Army is scrambling,” a MP solider told her, handing over an ear piece. “Two fighters are going over to Loyalty right now. The others are getting ready to engage the enemy. They’ve got more coming.”

“Sir, we’ve got to go!” one of the Dion Crop security guards shouted at Vasco, grabbing him by the arm. Vasco smacked Lucien across the cheek again, and his brother came awake with a start and a groan.

“My fuckin’ head,” Lucien muttered, wincing.

“C’mon. Get up.” Vasco pulled him to his feet, following the guards out into the hallway.

“Where is Madame President?”

“Upstairs. You send a chopper to the roof and bring them to the airfield. Do it now,” Vasco ordered, and the Agent brought his wrist to his mouth, speaking hurriedly into the radio. Vasco looked over at Isabella. “We need to go.”

Isabella met Vasco’s eyes. “Yes, you do.” She stepped into him and kissed his cheek. “You finish it. Go.”

For a brief moment, Vasco’s brow creased. He took Isabella’s hand, squeezing it tightly. Lucien stood at his brothers’ side, his eyes raw and pained. “We’ll get them, Aunt Isabel. I promise.”

Isabella gave Vasco a quick, reassuring smile, then turned it onto Lucien. She kissed his cheek. “He loved you like his own son,” she said, meaning Christopher. “And he was very proud of you. We all are.”

Tears sprang into Lucien’s gray eyes. The image of Uncle Christopher’s death would haunt him for a long time. “I love you,” Lucien said in a trembling voice.

Isabella smiled and patted his cheek.

Leone rushed over to them, the sounds of shouts, gunfire and violent chaos echoing out around them. “They’re going to overrun this hotel any second. You’ve got to get out of here. We’ll hold them off.”

“Let’s go.” Clasping his brother’s shoulder, Vasco nodded once at his family. He didn’t expect to see them again. Not this lifetime. He and Lucien jogged off with the small crowd of Dion Corp security agents around them.

Outside, it was a war zone. Dion Corp agents stood around a bullet proof Hummer, frantically waving Vasco and Lucien over. The sky above them was littered with the black, hulking shadows of attack helicopters that deposited wave after wave of men in combat uniforms. They carried machine guns and fired at the Alcyone army below.

“We can’t leave without Simone!” Lucien shouted at his brother as they were shoved into the back of the hummer.

“We won’t. Caleb’s with her. They’ll make it.”

Lucien nodded, his jaw setting in quiet fury. “I’m going to fucking kill every one of them, Vasco.”

“Yes, brother, yes we are.”

§

Dominic and Nicholas had taken cover out on the beach behind a line of black SUVs that had transported the PLFs. Kayla stood with them for a time, coordinating where she wanted the organic robots, and then stepped away from them once sufficient reinforcements had arrived.

“How long have you been a part of this?” Nicholas asked his father.

Dominic spared his son a brief glance. “Thirty-eight years.”

Nicholas felt a slow fury crawling over him. His father would have been deeply entrenched in the Brotherhood when his family was killed. It was unlikely that the Brotherhood would forget to warn both of them. “Did you know about my family? Did they warn you?”

Dominic thought that his son’s family was dysfunctional. If Nicholas had a wife and a mistress, that would have been fine properly handled. Instead, Nicholas had a wife and a lover—a male lover; one who was allowed in Nicholas’s home and allowed to taint Dominic’s grandchildren with his disgusting lifestyle. “It doesn’t matter. Stay focused on the matter at hand,” Dominic snapped.

“You knew,” Nicholas said lowly, but louder the second time. “You knew?!”

Dominic looked back at his son, sneering in revulsion. “Of course I knew. I didn’t tell you to teach you a lesson. I hope you’ve learned it. Now, get ready to move.”

For seconds, Nicholas saw red. He had known his father was a hateful, spiteful, selfish man, but Nicholas had never thought him truly evil. Until then. Nicholas raised his gun and pointed it in his father’s face. “I’m not on your side. I never have been.”

Dominic stared at his son with furious incredulity. “How dare you. Get that gun out of my face. Of course you’re on this side.”

Nicholas laughed bitterly. “Oh, no. After my family, I turned. I’ve been ratting you all out to Marcello for years. And I’m going to make sure that you rot in hell.”

Dominic’s eyes widened, his face turning red; a combination of anger and sudden fear. “Nicholas—”

It was the last word he spoke.

Nicholas pulled the trigger, blowing a hole in his father’s face. Stepping over the dead body, Nicholas shot him again, just because his rage bled that thickly. The sound of the chaos around him finally roared back into his ears and spurred him into action. He shot out the tires on three out of the four vehicles, ran to the fourth, opened the driver’s door, and killed the man at the wheel. Yanking out the dead body, Nicholas climbed into the drivers’ seat, peeling out and pulling out his cell phone. He needed to get to his sister. Then, they needed to leave.

§

“Roger that, we’ll meet the helicopter on the roof,” Caleb said quietly, poking his head out of the door to the suite. On this floor, the hallway was quiet. “C’mon.” Gun in hand, he slipped from the room and took Simone’s hand in his other, moving quickly towards the stairwell.

“Just what the hell is going on down there, Caleb?” Worry clouded Simone's features.

“I don’t know how bad, but the island is under attack. We’re in evac mode.” Caleb halted her by the door to the stairwell, listening. He pushed the door open a crack, his gun raised as he stepped in. He looked over the railing, just as Kayla looked up from three floors below. “Shit. Move fast and stay low, babe. They’re on our ass.”

Heart pounding, Simone took off her heels and ran past Caleb as he instructed, darting up the staircase and keeping herself bent over. She could hear shouts below her, immediately followed by the sound of gunfire. Bullets ricocheted off the metal, sending off small sparks and pulling a startled cry from Simone’s lips.

“Keep moving. Eyes straight ahead,” Caleb urged from behind her. He didn’t bother trying to shoot back yet. He needed the rounds for when they got to the roof. He touched his ear piece and said, “That helicopter better be waiting.”

“It’s a fucking shit storm out here, sir,” came the static-filled reply, “but we’re almost there. AF is cleaning house.”

“That guy better be as good of a pilot as you used to be!” Simone shouted, slightly out of breath.

“Few pilots are as good as I used to be, but so long as he can dodge bullets and not crash, we don’t have that far to go.” Caleb managed a quick grin, hoping Simone could hear it in his voice.

They reached the door to the roof, and Caleb used his security code to get the door open, pausing to quickly check outside and make sure they were alone. When he didn’t see anyone he motioned Simone through and shut the door, just as a hail of bullets ripped into it. Caleb stepped back and shot the control panel, buying them some time.

They ducked behind an air vent and he trained his gun on the door. “This would be a lot more fun if you had that cute little revolver you used to carry on your thigh,” Caleb said, double checking his clip.

Simone smirked. “I’m really pissed off right now that I don’t.”

“It’s okay. Now, I don’t have to worry about accidentally shooting myself in my haste to get you unclothed.” Caleb winked at Simone, and she smiled at him, just as the door to the roof blew open and their helicopter appeared. An Omega Cadre sat in the open helicopter door, letting loose a round of cover fire.

“That’s your ride, babe. Go, I’ll cover you.”

“Tell me you’re coming with me,” Simone demanded.

“Right behind you. Playing hero applies this lifetime, too. Go on.” Caleb poked his head around the vent and fired two shots that landed in one PLFs’ head as he tried to get out the door. Simone hesitated, but relented, and ran over to the helicopter. The Cadre reached down to help her up and was pulling her inside when he got shot in the neck.

Simone fell in and looked over at the soldier, startled. The pilot looked back, confirmed that she was on board, and began pulling them up into the air.

“Wait!” Simone grabbed the machine gun out of the dying soldier’s hands and leaned out the side of the helicopter. In her current incarnation, she had never used a machine gun, but she had a few of Liliana’s memories to rely on.

“Ma’am, I have orders to get you to the airfield!”

“If you move this helicopter without my husband, I will shoot you myself!” Simone snapped, and then jerked her eyes back to the ground. She didn’t even notice what she had called Caleb. What she did notice was that he was pinned behind the vent as the PLFs began creeping out onto the rooftop.

“Caleb, get over here!” Saying a little prayer, Simone hoisted up the machine gun and squeezed the trigger. The first few rounds went haywire, and she cursed like a sailor. Memory, sharp and vivid, flashed behind her eyes. She adjusted her grip on the gun, and the next time she pulled the trigger, a heavy tide of bullets sent two of the soldiers that looked human, but didn’t, right to the ground.

Caleb jerked a glance over his shoulder and saw Simone with a machine gun in her hands, eyes blazing determinedly. Suppressing a grin, he pushed off from behind the vent and sprinted over to the helicopter. “Take her up, take her up,” Caleb shouted to the pilot as he jumped in. Simone fired another round at the soldiers below, just because she was pissed, as the helicopter flew away.

Kayla pushed past the PLFs and came out onto the roof as the helicopter gained altitude then whizzed off towards the airfield. “Are you all this useless?” she snapped her eyes over the PLFs and brought her radio up to her mouth, “Simone got away. All forces to the airfield. The triplets don’t leave this island alive.”

§

Agata was in her office in the Dion Corp building when the world went insane. Three men in all black fatigues with a strange symbol painted on their faces had rushed into the building, nearly deserted at this hour, and pulled her from her office. Her demands to know what was going on were only met with the response that her father had sent them.

Now, she was sitting in the back of an SUV in front of the building, with those same soldiers guarding the car. Agata didn’t like whatever the hell was going on—it sounded like a war zone around her—but it seemed like answers weren’t coming any time soon.

Nicholas pulled his SUV to a halt behind the similar model double parked in front of the Dion Corp building. He slapped a fresh clip into his gun before he climbed out of the car. “Is my sister secure?”

The solider in charge nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Thank you.” Nicholas shot that man in the head. As the other two soldiers turned to respond, Nicholas shot them, too. He stepped over to the car and pulled open the back seat door. “Get out. You’re coming with me.”

“Nicholas? Nicholas, what the hell is going on?” Agata demanded, staring at him in shock. She couldn’t believe her brother was carrying a gun. When she saw the dead soldiers on the ground, she thought she might faint.

“Agata, I can’t explain right now. We’ve got to go.” Nicholas grabbed her arm and began dragging her over to the car.

“I’m not going anywhere with you unless you give me some answers!” She dug her heels into the ground, pulling against his grip. “Where’s Dad?”

“Dad’s dead!” Nicholas tightened his grip, still trying to move her. “Aggie, please. I double crossed them. The triplets’ plane is going to leave any second, and we need to be on it.”

“Dad’s dead?” Shock registered on Agata’s face. “What do you mean, you double crossed them? Nicky, what did you do?”

Nicholas opened his mouth to answer, but a Hummer screeched to a halt behind his car. Nicholas whirled around, raising his gun, but not in time. A bullet landed in his shoulder. Agata screamed, and Nicholas shouted in pain, his gun clattering from his fingers as he stumbled back into the car.

The door to the Hummer opened, and Olivia stepped out, walking briskly over to them. “How long have you been a traitor, Nicholas?” She glared at him.

Breathing heavily, Nicholas sneered. “Everybody plays the game better than you, Livy.”

“What are you two talking about? Olivia, put the gun down!” Agata moved to her brothers’ side, staring wide eyed at Olivia.

Olivia shoved the gun into Nicholas’s forehead and pulled the trigger. Agata screamed again, and Olivia shot her in the head, too. They fell on top of each other as they hit the concrete. “Apparently not.”

“Let’s go, Olivia!” Amadeo shouted from the car.

“Such a waste.” Shaking her head, Olivia turned around, marching back over to the Hummer, and got inside. “Get us to the airport. Hurry.”

§

The majority of Alcyone Island’s small but effective military force was stationed at the Loyalty Airlines airfield. Under Christopher’s direction, they had been secretly training for this kind of scenario for the last five months. Holding the perimeter until the triplets’ plane got off the ground was the primary objective.

The triplets’ Hummer zoomed through the gates, skidding to a stop on the tarmac in front of the plane. Vasco was the first to climb out, and Lieutenant General Richie Archer was waiting for him.

“Our air force kicked their ass, so the skies are clear. The ground is a mess. They took the hotel. We lost contact with the governor and Chief Vaughn,” Lieutenant Archer explained. Sadly, Vasco had expected as much. Lucien frowned darkly.

“Where is Simone?” Vasco asked.

“She’ll be here in five minutes. Both she and Mr. Kincade,” Lieutenant Archer said.

“Thank you. Have the Omega Cadre put on their plane. The remainder of the Dion Corp Security team is to come with us.”

“What are your odds of holding them back after we’re gone, Archer?” Lucien looked over at the men guarding the airport, then back at the L.G.

“Sir, General Christopher Zhane made it very clear that if this day came they would be fighting for something greater than themselves. Not false patriotism, or an orchestrated terrorist attack, but something a lot simpler and a whole hell of a lot more valuable. He said they’d be fighting to give people like them a choice. It was a very inspiring speech, sir. So, to answer your question it doesn’t matter. They’ll fight until they can’t, because they choose to.”

That sounded like Uncle Christopher, Lucien thought. His eyes teared up. Jaw working back and forth, he nodded, unable to say anything because of the knot in his throat.

“Rest assured, Archer, General Zhane was right.” Vasco clasped his brothers’ shoulder and led him over to the waiting plane.

“I believe you, sirs.”

“Lieutenant General,” A solider lowered his binoculars and pointed, “We’ve got incoming! A whole fuckin’ lot of them!”

Chapter 16

“You have enemies? Good. That means you've stood up for something, sometime in your life.”

- Winston Churchill

December 2, 2012 - 1:12 AM

International Airspace

SVT One

The Boeing 787 was its own version of Air Force One. The triplets could have run things from their plane for the next twenty days if they chose to. They sat in the conference room, trying to come to terms with what had just happened. They had all been a lot harder in their past lives. While those memories were helpful in some ways, they didn’t take away the pain, or the reality of the current moment. Lucien’s eyes were as raw as he felt. Watching someone die in front of him, someone he loved and respected, simply hurt. He slouched into his chair, with his fist pressed against his mouth, and stared down at the polished wood of the table.

Simone felt numb. While her family was being attacked and murdered, she had been giving into something that wasn’t hers to claim this lifetime. She knew better. She fucking knew better, but the selfish, undisciplined part of her had wanted something that she’d had before, instead of focusing on what she needed to do now. She was here to play the game, and win it. She might die trying to accomplish it, but so long as she and her brothers called checkmate, who cared?

Vasco walked into the tensely silent conference room and took his seat. Briefly, he traded glances between his siblings, locked in their internal struggles. As a family, they had prepared for the worst; expected that, at some point, the members of the Brotherhood would decide that it was in their best interest to get rid of the force that was working so hard against them.

Plans and reality were always so very different.

It was with an odd sort of detachment that Vasco observed his own feelings. The loss of family was a blow, but they had a very important task to accomplish, and he just wanted to get it done. “All the SVT offices have been vacated and moved to the ghost locations that Marcello set up for them, twenty miles away from each concentration camp we’re going to hit. Derek’s team is already at the compound. We’ll get the status of our weapons when we get there.”

“What about Alcyone Island? Leone and Isabella? Do we know what’s going on there?” Lucien asked.

Vasco shook his head. “Caleb is in the control room and has just informed me we’ve lost all contact. The boys on Phoenix Isle knew that when code red hit, they were to destroy everything so the enemy couldn’t use it.”

Anger was a much more familiar, much easier emotion than pain. Simone latched onto it, instead of her grief. It helped her think. “I know we’ve got an escort, but how far away are we from the landing? I don’t understand why the Brotherhood wouldn’t just scramble a few of their own fighter jets and come after us. They’re pretty much in do whatever the fuck they want mode.”

“We’re an hour away from Casablanca. And they still mi—”

Caleb threw open the door to the conference room. “Hang on, everyone. We’ve got bogeys coming in.”

Simone frowned darkly. “I spoke too soon.”

“How many?” Lucien asked, sitting up.

“Five.” Caleb answered. “That’s not good.”

Vasco stood up. “What are the odds—” His words died mid-sentence because of an explosion just outside one of the windows. The plane shook “That was one of ours, wasn’t it?”

Caleb braced himself on the doorframe. His headset exploded with noise, and he nodded grimly. “Yes, sir.”

“It’s going to be a real fucking bummer if we get blown out of the sky,” Lucien growled, and then gripped the arms of his chair as the plane suddenly broke a hard right, sending coffee mugs sliding off the table, and shattering on the floor.

“Why the fuck do we have people on the inside if, at pivotal moments, they’re useless?” Simone hissed, then jumped, startled, when two more explosions thundered in the sky.

Caleb looked over at Vasco. “Sir, is there anyone you can call—”

Suddenly, one of the uniformed soldiers from the control room crashed into Caleb from behind. There was an excited, relieved expression on his face. “Sirs. Ma'am. We’ve gotten assistance from an—an—”

“Jesus Christ, spit it out!” Simone snapped.

“An unidentified flying aircraft.”

Vasco arched a brow. “A what?”

“Come see for yourself, sir,” the solider said, and then braced himself, because two more explosions stained the sky, littering it with balls of fire, clouds of black smoke, and broken pieces of metal, raining down into the ocean below.

“Unidentified flying aircraft,” Lucien repeated as he, his siblings, and Caleb followed the solider out of the conference room, and up a short flight of stairs to the control room. “Does he mean a UFO?”

“I’m not sure what else it could be.” Simone followed the soldier as he knocked on the cockpit door, then pushed it open. From behind them, another soldier, sitting at a terminal, announced with no small amount of relief in his voice, “Sir, remaining bogeys are booking out.”

Lucien stood behind the co-pilot’s chair, peering out the windshield. “What am I looking at?”

Archer waited a moment, searching the sky himself, and then he pointed. “Right there.” At first, the triplets saw nothing. A second later, a long, oval-shaped aircraft simply appeared where it had not been before. They could barely see it. It looked almost translucent against the black sky, and when it passed through a cloud, it became invisible again.

“Wow,” Simone whispered.

“There’s that help when we needed it,” Vasco said. “Have they made radio contact?”

“No, sir. Just showed up and started blowing the bad guys out of the air. It appears to be following us.” Archer grinned. “I’d love to get in the cockpit of that thing.”

“All right. Stay on course.” Vasco stepped out of the cockpit, his siblings following him. Lucien walked up to the solider that had originally alerted them of the UFO’s presence.

“By the way, it’s called an interdimensional traveling vessel, okay?” Lucien clasped the young man’s shoulder.

Simone smirked, and Lucien shrugged, faint amusement flickering through his eyes. “Just trying to educate him.”

§

December 2, 2012 - 2:15 AM

Alcyone Island

Phoenix Isle Command Center

“They got away. The fighters that the Brotherhood had on standby, in case we failed, were attacked by an alien vessel and destroyed.”

Instead of throwing his phone across the room Caesar kicked the table in front of him. “Goddammit, Kayla, we sent you an army. How did they manage to get off the island?”

“Nicholas was a traitor. He warned them ahead of time. We also underestimated the efficiency of the Alcyone Island military.”

“Fuck,” Caesar growled and shoved a frustrated hand back through his hair. “Who’s alive that might know where they are?”

“Only Leone.”

“Fine. Work Leone until he squeals.”

“Yes, Caesar. Did your team capture the scientists?”

Caesar stared around at the empty lab. “No. Call me when you know something.”

Kayla disconnected the call, tucking the phone into her pocket. She understood Caesar’s irritation. The Brotherhood wouldn’t be pleased with the multiple failures. Kayla stepped out of the conference room in the Phoenix Isle Command Center. Once populated by the Alcyone Island military, the center was a mess of destroyed computers and dead bodies.

Olivia walked up to Kayla, curling her fingers around the mouthpiece of her head set. “FBI started their raid of SVT offices and every single one, so far, has been empty. No files, no computers, just empty desks.”

Kayla arched a brow. “Every single one?”

“Yes!” The lines of Olivia’s face were strained. “We have no fucking idea where they’ve gone.”

“Clever. Very, very clever. They knew about us for a long time.” Kayla turned her back on Olivia, walking to the sliding doors. “Have Leone worked until he talks.”

“Where are you going?” Olivia asked.

“To get my father’s journal.”

§

December 2, 2012 - 2:22 AM

Alcyone Island

Cellar underneath Governor’s Mansion

“What does Leone know?” John asked. The cellar underneath the governor’s mansion, didn’t just house the heads of the family’s enemies. Isabella had added a section and turned it into her own small personal security center. From there, they could hear and see what was going on in the Command Center on Phoenix Isle. While Kayla’s robotic army was marching to the airport and the hotel was being overrun, Leone had helped her escape.

“You do no good to this family dying a noble death, Isabel. Go. Your reincarnated mother shouldn’t lose all her children in one day.”

“A great deal. Information is backed up on the servers at Phoenix, and then flown twice a month to the compound where the triplets are going. Leone makes those trips.” Isabella sat in a chair against the wall. She was exhausted. She was heartbroken. She was pissed off and ornery. “Kayla’s going after Marcello’s journal. We need to get it before she does.”

“Do you know where it is?”

“Vasco had it, so it’s probably at his home.” Calling upon a new reserve of strength, Isabella rose to her feet. “And then we’re going to get off this island.”

“What’s your plan, Isabel?” John canted his head at her.

“The airport’s overrun. But I know of a hangar they didn’t check—if we can get there.”

“Where?” John picked his gun off the table and grabbed an extra from the cabinet on the wall, tucking both into his belt.

“My father’s.” Isabella pulled her hair into a messy bun on the top of her head, then took one of the semi-automatic pistols from the same cabinet.

“You know how to fly?”

Isabella gave John a look. “My father was one of the best goddamn fighter pilots ever. You bet your ass I know how to fly.”

John smiled. “Lead the way, Governor.”

Chapter 17

“We don't see things as they are, we see them as we are.”

- Anais Nin

December 5, 2012 - 10:44 AM

Somewhere in Egypt

Terenzio Compound

*Zones clean?” Caleb stood in the security center in the east wing of the compound, looking at the row of monitors.

There were three Dion Corp security guards seated at the table. The one on the far right nodded. “Yes, sir. Nobody here but us.”

“Air waves are quiet, too,” said the one in the middle.

Caleb nodded. “Good. I’m going to make my rounds. I’ll be back later.”

The triplets’ plane had landed in Casablanca, Morocco, three days ago. The interdimensional traveling vessel that had assisted earlier followed them to their destination, and then simply disappeared. From Casablanca, the three heirs to SVT’s empire made the long, secretive journey back to the compound. The entirety of the trip, Simone had been distant. They had reached quite the climax, and Caleb had been busy coordinating the moves of the military and the Dion Corp security that had come with them. He had noticed her reserve, but hadn't said a lick about it. Now that he had the time, he intended to go and find her.

It was strange for Simone to be back in the compound. She supposed it was a bit ironic, too. It was because of this place that she knew who she had been, once upon a time. It was because of this place that she knew who Caleb had been, as well. It stood as a reminder of everything she once had—and would not have again. Restless, she walked the corridors of the east wing, frowning with thought.

Caleb rounded a corner and came nearly face to face with her. He couldn't imagine what must be going through her head at his juncture. He wanted to know, though. "How are you holding up?"

Simone glanced up, startled. Her first instinct was to step into him. She resisted that urge and frowned more deeply. "How do you think?"

Caleb would have liked it if Simone had leaned into him and let go of her troubles against his shoulder, if only for a short while, but he wasn't surprised when she didn't. That didn't stop him from stepping into her, though, and rubbing his hands over her arms, keeping his eyes on her. "Talk to me."

Simone stiffened, but torn between wanting to push him away and wanting to take comfort in him, she held still. "What do you want me to say, Caleb?"

"Anything but the silent treatment you've been giving me,” Caleb said quietly, studying her face. "Tell me you’re mad as hell, tell me you scared, tell me you can't wait to go blow up their underground bases. Tell me you’re heartbroken that Christopher's dead and Isabella probably is, too."

Simone had yet to perfect the mask of neutrality that the Terenzios so often wore. Shadows darkened her eyes, and the lines of her face were taut. "Why? So we can pretend that we're Liliana and Kyle again?"

Caleb frowned, but he didn't let her go. Instead, he touched her cheek. "No. Because they were your family, Simone, and now they're gone. Or, we skip right over them and go to the part about why you're avoiding me."

Simone jerked back and pushed Caleb away from her. "Don't," she said, pressing a hand to her cheek. "Don't do that. You can't do that."

Caleb’s brows rose as his hands dropped to his sides. "Why can't I?"

"Because everyone is dying!" Simone curled both of her hands into fists. Her nails cut into her palms. "Don't you get it?! This isn't 1927, Caleb! This isn’t the world we used to know. This isn't the life we used to live. There won't be entire afternoons wasted in hammocks or stolen moments in our offices. We won't be picking the kids' vegetables out of the potted plants in the dining room or washing mud pies out of their mouths. There will be no happy ending!"

Understanding dawned, echoing in the silence around them. Caleb loved those memories. They had helped him through some of the more trying moments in his current life. He didn’t miss Simone’s point, though. "I know what year it is. I know what's going on here, and I know how it may end. I'm not asking you to recreate the past, and the only thing I'm planning on in the immediate future is keeping you safe." He closed the distance between them and did what Simone told him he couldn't do again: took her face between his hands and looked into her eyes. "The only thing that is certain is this moment, right now. So, you tell me what you want for it."

"This moment?” Simone closed her hands over Caleb’s, pressing desperately. "Members of my family were murdered while you and I were having a moment like this. Nothing is certain! Any one of us could go, at any time, and I won't lose you!" Her eyes were glassy with unshed tears, and her nails dug into the backs of his hands. "I can't lose you," she whispered fiercely.

Caleb felt the desperation and all of the pent up emotion, in the dig of Simone’s nails. "Now you're talking to me," he whispered and pressed his lips against her forehead. He drew his hands down, so he could wrap his arms around her and pulled her tight, resisting form against his chest. "They would have died even if we weren't having that moment, babe. You can't think about the what ifs. You'll drive yourself crazy. Your job wasn't to save them. You're here to finish this, and I'm here to keep you alive so you can. And love you, a lot, through it all. That's it, Simone. That's it."

"They're not what ifs. They're certainties,” Simone whispered. "This won't end well. And I can’t do whatever is necessary if I’m standing this close to you.”

Caleb had a feeling that he wasn’t going to like what came next. “What are you saying, Simone?”

Simone closed her eyes for just a moment, calling up that famed Terenzio resolve; the kind needed to make impossible choices. She pulled Caleb’s arms from around her as she looked up at him. “I’m saying you’re right. I need to finish this. And I can’t do that if we’re trying to rekindle a relationship that has its place in the past.”

Caleb stiffened. “You think that’s all this is?”

Simone released his hands, thickening the veil around her eyes when she saw the emotion in his. “I’m not her, Caleb, and you’re not him. Just because we had something once upon a time doesn’t mean we get to have it twice.”

Caleb’s jaw tensed. “You’re not going to blow off my feelings for you as nothing but a pretty memory of what was, because you’re afraid of loss. I love you. You, Simone.”

Simone struggled with a sudden knot in her throat. She loved Caleb, too. Just him. She would have without the memories of Kyle to lie on top of it all and sweeten the deal, deepening her natural affection for him, but she couldn’t be wasting hours in bed with him, or sharing a private moment when, in sixteen days, the fate of the world would rest in her hands and her brothers’. If she wasted time thinking of a future with Caleb, instead of the battle—if she got her hopes up and she lost him in that battle—what was she to do, then? What was the point of dreaming if the end game was nothing but a field of land mines that she or someone else in her family might willingly step on, just to call checkmate?

She drew her arms around herself and looked away, slowly shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

Caleb looked as if Simone had struck him. She might as well have. He stared at her in the thick silence. At length, he shook his head. “Fine. I’ll play it your way. Nothing but professionalism. Excuse me, Madame President I need to go make my rounds.”

Simone nodded mutely, watching Caleb walk away from her. It was for the best, she assured herself. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

From the next room, Vasco came to stand in the doorway, settling his gaze on his motionless sister. He had been eavesdropping, though not intentionally. “Everything doesn’t have to be either or.”

Simone whirled around, narrowing her eyes “Keep your opinions on my personal life to yourself.”

“Redirecting your anger at me isn’t going to make the decision you just made any less stupid,” Vasco said quietly.

Anger Simone could do. Anger felt a lot better than the ache in her chest, and what better target than her big brother? “It was necessary. And you know what, Vasco, while you were making secret decisions regarding my life, you should have done the smart thing and kept the gag order in place.”

“Do you remember grandfather’s recording?” Vasco continued, as if Simone had not just taken that shot at him. “Specifically, the part about love?”

“Don’t you do it. Don’t you fucking dare lecture me about love!” Simone came at him, eyes blazing. “You lived your last lifetime wrapped up in a cocoon of self-loving arrogance, and you’ve spent this one pretending your way through your existence. I don’t even think you care about winning. All you’re doing is going through the motions. So unless you feel something, don’t begin to think you can understand me.”

Vasco was the expert at veiling emotion—or had been, as Stefano Terenzio. Perhaps he was too good at it, but Simone’s words were not completely inaccurate. “The mp3 player is in the library. You ought to listen to it again. We have a conference call with Xavier in an hour.”

“You listen to it. I have work to do.” Simone strode past him.

Vasco watched her go and sighed. Turning around, he went back into the den, sinking down in the plush confines of the leather chair, and closed his eyes.

§

December 5, 2012 - 11:30 AM

Alcyone Island

Phoenix Isle Detention Center

Leone was in rough shape. For the last three days, he had been beaten, tortured and drugged. By some miracle, he had found the will, the strength, to not tell his captors anything. After an hours reprieve they had literally dragged him out of his cell and strapped him to a chair. Blood and dirt marked his face. His right eye was swollen shut. He was so exhausted, after being alone for about five minutes, he passed out.

When Victoria was escorted into the detention room and saw the condition of her husband, she gasped, a hand flying to her mouth. “What did you do?” she whispered.

Olivia shoved Victoria forward. “What the fuck does it look like we did? Get him to talk.”

Victoria shot a brief glare at Olivia, but her gaze gentled in sympathy when she looked back at Leone. She might have had an affair, but she still cared about him. This was cruel. She never imagined sleeping with Amadeo would lead to something like this. She had foolishly believed that Amadeo was just ambitious. Swallowing, Victoria slowly reached out and touched her husband’s hand. “Leone,” she said gently.

Leone thought he was hallucinating, at first, and didn’t open his eyes. When Victoria called his name a second time, he slowly turned his head and looked. Shock stained his face. “What are you doing here?”

Victoria’s eyes watered as she trailed her gaze over his badly beaten face. Leone had been such a handsome man. “Tell them. Please, just tell them where the triplets are.”

Leone stared at her through the one eye that wasn’t swollen shut. Finally, he asked, “Did you ever love me at all?”

For a moment, Victoria felt the sharp pangs of remorse. She slowly nodded. “Yes, yes I did.”

Leone sighed. “That’s something, I guess.”

“Answer the fucking question, Leone,” Olivia’s agitated voice echoed out.

Leone continued looking at his wife, pointedly ignoring Olivia. “Did you fuck him in our house?”

Victoria went very still. She couldn’t bring herself to admit to her wrong doings, even now. “Who?”

“Amadeo. It’s him, right? Since you’re helping them.”

Victoria lowered her eyes and said nothing. That was all the confirmation Leone that needed.

“Three out of five nights a week.” Olivia pushed off the wall and stood behind Victoria’s chair. “And he’s going to do it again after your dead. Which can be a quick or slow process. It’s all up to you. Where are they?”

Leone didn’t even bother glancing in Olivia’s direction, just continued looking at Victoria, sadly. “He’ll never love you. But you don’t care about that at all anymore, do you?” He sighed again. “Do what you want to me, Olivia. I’m not telling you a fuckin’ thing.”

Olivia’s eyes narrowed. The smile that curled across her lips was like ice. “You know, I had a funny feeling you’d say that.” She pulled out her gun and pressed it against Victoria’s temple. The terror that shot across Victoria’s face went bone deep. Tears sprang to her eyes and quickly spilled over. “So, how about you tell me, or I’ll kill her.”

Leone’s eye shot open. “What are you doing?”

“Aww, you really love your wife don’t you? This lying, cheating, whore.” Olivia grabbed a fistful of Victoria’s long blonde hair and roughly yanked her head back, bringing a startled cry from the woman as Olivia ran the gun barrel down her cheek. “I bet you can’t stand to watch this? Can you?”

Leone clenched his jaw. “How can you be so cruel?”

“How can you be so naïve?” Olivia sneered, and then looked down at Victoria. “Open your mouth. I said open your fucking mouth, bitch.”

Whimpering quietly, Victoria parted her lips, and Olivia shoved the gun between them. “I don’t give a fuck about you, and I really don’t care about her, so it’s nothing, Leone, for me to kill her and let you watch her die. So, who’s got your loyalty? The triplets, or your wife?”

Leone’s brow creased. His hands tightened around the arm of his chair. His gaze remained glued on the barrel of the gun in his wife’s mouth. The silence sprang up, hot and thick. Olivia didn’t let it linger too long.

“Guess that’s your answer, then.” She cocked the gun, and put four out of five pounds on the trigger.

“Stop!” Leone jerked in the chair, but the restraints kept him immobile. A harsh tear mixed with the blood and grim that caked his cheek. “I don’t know where they are. But I know a small part of what they’re going to do.”

Olivia watched him closely. “Are you fucking with me, Leone? Because your wife here seemed to think you knew where they were.”

Leone shook his head. “No, no. It’s a compound my grandfather built, and I know it’s somewhere in Africa but what country I couldn’t tell you. Only Marcello knew that.” His lie, he prayed, would be convincing.

That much they knew themselves. Olivia pursed her lips thoughtfully, her grip still tight enough in Victoria’s hair to pull a chunk of hair out by the root, the gun still shoved in her mouth. Occasionally, Victoria would whimper fearfully around it. “All right, Leone. What do you know?”

“We don’t have this discussion until you let her go,” Leone said determinedly.

Olivia laughed. “Not a chance. You don’t get to negotiate.”

Leone glared. “Oh, no, I do. You need to know something about the triplets, otherwise your employers are going to know just how fuckin’ useless you are. And I don’t trust you. So you either let her go, or we both die and you get shit from me. Good luck figuring it out on your own.”

Olivia’s eyes narrowed. “You fuckin’ weasel, I’ll kill her just to—”

“Olivia,” Amadeo’s sharp voice echoed out.

Olivia snapped her gaze over to the doorway where he stood. “What?”

“Let her go.”

Olivia frowned at him. “You care about this bitch?”

“I care about the information,” Amadeo snapped back at her. “Let her go.”

Olivia hesitated, but finally pulled the gun out of Victoria’s mouth and roughly released her hair. “Free pass, whore.”

Victoria set her tear filled eyes on her husband. She touched his hand, a gesture that was both apologetic and affectionate. Leone’s lips quirked into a sad smile, and he nodded.

“Come here Victoria,” Amadeo ordered.

Victoria rose quickly to her feet and obediently stood next to him. Amadeo centered his gaze on Leone. “She leaves when you’re done. Start talking.”

§

December 10, 2012 - 10:10 PM

Denver, CO

Penthouse of Tony DeMarco

Tyranny kept a person busy. Especially when that person was a double agent for such a regime. Tony glanced down at his watch, sighing. He was home just to shower and shave, and then he’d be going right back to the base.

Climbing out of the car, he popped a piece of gum in his mouth. Gabriella had made him give up smoking. His guardian angel, whose presence had been a wonderful, constant light the last four months, took up her usual place underneath the collar of his shirt, humming to him in a pitch only he could hear. He kinda liked it. It kept him calm and clear-headed.

“Hey, Ricky,” Tony called out hurriedly as he walked past the desk and over the elevators.

“Um, hi, Mr. DeMarco.” Ricky kept his eyes glued to his computer screen.

Tony pressed the button to call the elevator and glanced over at the kid. Ricky glanced in his direction, and then quickly looked back down. Tony quirked a brow. Stepping away from the elevators, Tony walked back over to the front desk. “What’s wrong Ricky?” he asked flat out.

“I do not know what the protocol is for this, sir.” Ricky continued staring at the desk.

“Protocol for what?”

Ricky hesitated. “You outrank Mr. Medicci, don’t you, sir?”

Mr. Medicci, Tony thought. Sonofabitch. With the triplets’ escape, the SVT offices empty, and the SVT Think Tank gone with the crystal, Caesar had been in deep shit; possibly awaiting his death. What the fuck was he doing here? “Is he in my apartment?”

Ricky looked uncertain again, but slowly nodded.

“Don’t worry about it. You don’t have to tell them you told me. I won’t say anything. Thanks, Ricky.” Tony smiled reassuringly at the kid, and then went back to the elevators. “This could get ugly, Gabriella. Move to a safer spot, honey.”

As he stepped into the elevator Gabriella fluttered out from underneath his collar and perched on his shoulder. A second later, she faded from sight. Tony pulled his 9mm out from underneath his suit jacket when he got off on his floor. Inching over to his door, he pressed his ear against it. No movement inside. He used his keycard on the door, kept one arm behind him, and walked in.

“Drop it, Tony. Slowly,” Caesar’s voice echoed out from the shadows.

Tony stilled just inside the doorway. “You know, you’ve got a lot of fucking nerve, subordinate.” He took the step inside and kicked the door shut

“You’re caught, you fucking traitor.”

“That’s a big accusation coming from the idiot that just fucked up his last assignment.” Tony searched for him in the darkness, and saw the shadow of Caesar’s figure in front of him and just to the right.

“Save it,” Caesar snapped. “I knew it had to be you when Kayla reported that Leone told us Simone’s going to blow the underground bases. What she knows she could have only gotten from you, or your brother.”

“You’re pointing a gun at a member of the Illuminati. You better think real hard about what you’re doing. Drop it now, and I’ll think about asking them not to feed you to the Greys.” Tony took one step forward, keeping his gun hand slightly behind his back.

“No, I’m pointing a gun at a traitor to his God. Drop the act. I knew you’d find the bug on your balcony, that’s why I put one on the roof.” Tony could hear the smug smile in Caesar’s tone. “You can imagine what I have recorded. And I know that all the information we’ve been collecting from the triplets HI-MENS are going to a dummy server. Enlil isn’t getting any of those reports is he?”

Fuck, Tony thought. This would be a big kink in the plan. Caesar had to die before he told anyone else. “You know what, Caesar, you were a real lousy agent. I bet you can’t use that weapon, either.” He didn’t remain standing to find out. Tony dropped to the floor, whipping his arm around him and fired at Caesar, just as Caesar’s bullet lodged itself into the door where Tony’s head had been. Tony’s bullet didn’t miss, though. He heard Caesar grunt and fall to the floor.

“Fuckin’ mook.” Tony clambered to his feet, walking through his dark house and over to Caesar’s motionless form. Tony kicked his gun away, pointed the muzzle down at Caesar’s face, and was about to put one in his temple, when Caesar’s eyes suddenly sprang open. He kicked Tony’s legs out from underneath him. Tony released a startled grunt as he landed on his back. He brought his gun up again, only to feel something that felt suspiciously like a needle stab into his calf. Three seconds later, he couldn’t feel a thing, and he couldn’t move, either.

Caesar stood over Tony, smirking. He pulled apart his shirt, exposing the Kevlar underneath. “You really thought you were going to win, didn’t you?”

§

December 11, 2012 - 12:12 PM

Somewhere in Egypt

Terenzio Compound

Caleb jogged down the corridors until he reached the veranda doors off the kitchen. Throwing them open, his gaze centered on Simone’s back. He walked quickly up to her and touched her shoulder. “Madame President? You’ve got a video conference call. They found Isabella.”

Simone tensed. It felt like a very long time since Caleb had touched her. His words spurred her into quick action, though. “Is she all right?” Simone asked as she followed him back into the house.

Caleb’s brows drew together. “No. She escaped Alcyone Island in Kyle’s old seaplane. It ran out of gas about twenty miles from Cape Verde. Someone, maybe our friends from our air fight, found her and hid her until word could get to Xavier. He had her moved to a more secure location. It’s a goddamn miracle she survived the crash, and she was unconscious for a few days. She’s awake now, but she’s in rough condition. Real rough.”

Simone had always been fond of Aunt Isabella. She’d always felt a very strong connection to the woman, and after her little past life regression session, she understood why. Those past connections deepened her affection, and now would heighten her pain when Isabella died. Simone rubbed her fingers against her temple, frowning deeply. She was tired of loss.

Caleb pushed open the doors to the security room. Vasco and Lucien were already there. He hadn’t been terribly close to Isabella this lifetime, but that didn’t matter anymore than it had with Christopher. Caleb had grieved that loss privately.

On the central screen was Isabella’s face. She looked beaten up, beyond exhausted, yet triumphant. Simone’s brows pinched, and she struggled to get control of the expression on her face as he walked past Caleb and over to her brothers.

“Xavier has the journal. It’s on its way to you,” Isabella said.

“Thank you for getting it,” Vasco said. That was no small thing. If Kayla or any of the others had gotten their hands on it first, checkmate might not occur.

“No thanks needed, Vasco. I’m glad to go out this way. Though Christopher might have crashed with more finesse.” There was a mixture of sadness and amusement in Isabella’s aged eyes.

“Do you need anything, Aunt Isabel? Can we do anything for you?” Lucien asked, his voice cracking slightly.

“Win.” Isabella smiled and closed her eyes. “Just win.”

“You bet your ass we’re going to win,” Simone said, coming to stand next to Vasco. He and Lucien nodded in agreement.

Isabella’s gaze snapped open, and her smile deepened. “I imagine that you’re very much like mother used to be when she was younger.”

“I’ve drawn a few comparisons,” Simone said softly.

“You don’t know what it meant, to Christopher and I, to see you two again before it all ended. Even if you look different.” Isabella gazed at Simone, and then lifted her eyes to Caleb. “Sorry about the plane. Dad.”

Caleb gave Isabella a trembling smile. “Frankly, Bell,” he said, using the nickname that Kyle had for his daughter, “I’m surprised you didn’t crash it sooner.”

Simone pressed her fingers against her mouth, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. Isabella laughed, but the motion caused her face to quickly contort with pain. She took a few deep breaths to work through it, and then dropped her head back against the pillows. “We missed the two of you so much when you left. To watch Caleb look at you, Simone, the way Dad use to look at mom, it just reminded us what we were fighting for.”

Caleb couldn’t find his voice, so he smiled. Simone lost the battle and the tears came, sliding silently down her cheeks. She didn’t look back at Caleb, but kept her gaze on Isabella. “I’m glad we could give that to you.”

Isabella suddenly looked more alert. Frowning, her gaze darted between Simone and Caleb. “Oh, for God’s sake, you two can’t possibly be playing that game.”

Vasco refrained from comment, though he did slide his sister a sideways glance. He was not surprised when she ignored him. “We’ve got a job to do right now, Isabella,” Simone said quietly.

“There’s always a goddamn job to do. You and Dad died together doing a job.” Isabella threw a hand up in the air. She set the full force of her gaze on Simone. “The past is just a memory. The future hasn’t even gotten here yet. The only thing that’s real is the now. Why are you wasting it?”

“Because she wouldn’t be Simone or Lil if she wasn’t sabotaging herself,” Lucien said, sniffling as he glanced over at his sister.

Simone didn’t bother shooting Lucien a murderous glare. She was too busy being proud, and heartbroken, and terrified that everyone was right. “Lil was very proud of you. And I’m so lucky to have gotten to know you this lifetime, too.” She smiled through her tears. “I love you, Aunt Isabella.”

Isabella’s eyes shone wetly. “Regret hurts more than loss. Remember that.” Thoughts of John, briefly took up space in her mind. Kayla had shot him as they were trying to escape. Swallowing back her own tears, Isabella pushed the thought away so she could smile at Simone. “And I love you, too. You, too, Caleb.”

Caleb swallowed hard, searching for his voice. “Kick ass and take names your next lifetime, too, Bell. Your mother wasn’t the only one who was proud, and I love you, too.”

“Sir, that’s time. We’ve got to terminate the connection per Mr. Xavier Zhane’s instructions,” said one of the Security officers.

Vasco nodded. “Try and hang on, Aunt Isabella. Your son is on his way.”

Isabella smiled. “I’ll wait for him. Good luck, you three.” Without lingering any longer, Isabella pressed the button to terminate the connection on her end. It would be the last time they saw her.

Caleb cleared his throat. “Excuse me.” Turning on his heel, he quickly left the room.

Simone continued to stare at the blank screen, biting her bottom lip as the tears ran down her cheeks.

Lucien dragged his hands over his face. “I really can’t wait until we end this.”

“Me too, brother,” Vasco said quietly.

Lucien looked over at Simone and nudged her with his shoulder. “Isabel was right, yah know.”

Simone closed her eyes, slowly shaking her head. “What’s the point of getting close to someone if you’re just going to lose them?”

“Loss sucks, Si, but it comes with the territory. Besides, our remembering past lives proves that we don’t really lose anything. Apparently, we get to do it all over again, anytime we want to,” Lucien said.

Simone’s face pinched as she wrapped her arms around herself. “That doesn’t change the now.”

Lucien glanced over at Vasco, and Vasco stepped closer to his sister. “You were right about me, about last lifetime, and this one. Well, semi-right. There’s no denying that SVT loved himself and his ego, but we loved other people, too.”

Simone opened her tear-filled eyes and looked up to Vasco. “I know you did. Do. I didn’t mean—”

“Wait. Let me finish.” Vasco blew out a breath. Confessions didn’t come easily. “Simone, I am going through the motions. I’ve done a lot of self-searching these past five months, figuring out where Stefano begins and I end. And what I keep coming back to, when I think about the world, is that moment I had with Cleona before she left.” For once, the veil lifted from Vasco’s eyes, exposing so much emotion. “I miss her so much I can barely function, and that moment I had made it worse. But I can’t imagine not having that opportunity. I can’t imagine not taking it, even if I had known that she would be gone when I woke up. I cannot fathom the rest of the world not having their own moments of connection in between ego, and selfish ambition, and all the other petty, human drama we choose to engage in. There’s no point without it. The rest is just a game. A silly fucking game. Those are the moments that are real.” He set his hands on his sister’s shoulders. “Take them, Simone.”

Simone drew in a deep, trembling breath, lifting a hand to wipe her tears away. She traded glances between her brothers, allowing the words to sink in. It was the same type of language her heart had been trying to communicate with her, ever since she’d shut Caleb off. She gave them a small nod. “I’ll think about it.”

Lucien chuckled, and a small flicker of amusement passed through Vasco’s eyes. “Stubborn to a fault.” Lucien leaned forward and kissed Simone’s forehead. “Don’t think too long, or hard. I’m going to go do laps in the pool.”

Vasco gave Simone’s shoulders a gentle squeeze, and then released her. “I’ll be in the library.” Both men left the control room.

Simone remained, chewing on her bottom lip. After realizing that she was probably making the controllers in the room uncomfortable, she looked at the man on her left. “Get me a location on Mr. Kincade.”

It only took a few keystrokes before a dot appeared on the man’s screen. “He’s on the patio off the main living room, ma’am.”

“Thank you.” When Simone left the security center, her steps faltered. Her brows furrowed with the array of thoughts that bombarded her mind and warred with much deeper, simpler emotions.

“Regret hurts more than loss.”

Determination flashing through her eyes, she stopped hesitating and strode quickly through the house.

Chapter 18

“Neither a lofty degree of intelligence nor imagination nor both together go to the making of genius. Love, love, love, that is the soul of genius.”

- Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

December 11, 2012 - 12:44 PM

Somewhere in Egypt

Terenzio Compound

Simone found Caleb sitting on a stone step that overlooked the gardens. Her eyes traced the tension in his shoulders, the rigid line of his back. She could guess pretty accurately the cause of it. Taking a deep breath, she walked towards him. “Caleb?”

Caleb felt her before she broke the silence. He pressed his fingers over his eyes and took another second to regain his composure, before he stood up and turned around. “Yes, Madame President?”

Simone hated him calling her that, but she couldn’t bitch when she was the one that had put up the blockade. Silently, she searched his face. His eyes were still damp, lingering evidence of the tears he’d cleared away, and it made her heart ache more than it already did. He had been such a good father in that lifetime. He would have been in this one, too. “Promise me that you won't be the next one we lose."

Caleb’s blue eyes gentled as he slowly shook his head. "You know I can't.” A wry smile touched his lips. “I can only promise to play the part of the big goddamn hero."

His answer threatened to bring more tears to Simone’s eyes. *If Caleb was going to play that part, then he was as good as dead. Simone couldn't—wouldn't—change him, but that meant that she had been right; there would be no happy endings this lifetime. At least, not for them. She could take that knowledge and make the now more precious for its fragility, or she could waste more if it and continue to shut herself off from Caleb.

“Is there anything else you need, Madame President?”

Pressing her lips tightly together, Simone shook her head. She did not miss the whisper of sadness that passed through Caleb’s eyes. He nodded and went to walk past her, but her hand shot out and captured his, halting his motions. Every muscle in Caleb’s form knotted. He paused and looked over his shoulder in silent question.

It would hurt when Simone lost him, regardless of the choices she made, but Isabella and her grandfather they were right. Vasco was right. Without the expression of that one precious emotion, what was she—what were they—really fighting for? The cliché was an inescapable truth; they could give humanity all the choices it wanted, but without love wrapped around it all, the world was doomed to repeat the same mistakes over and over again. She was doomed to repeat the same mistakes over and over again. “Don’t go,” she whispered.

“No games, Simone.” Caleb turned to face her. “I couldn’t handle it.”

Simone stepped into him, lifting her other hand to touch his face, and let the tears fall where they may. “No games. Just us.”

Caleb briefly closed his eyes. A different sort of tension knotted the muscles in his shoulders as he framed Simone’s waist with his hands. “You don’t get to change your mind twice.”

Simone shook her head. “I won’t want to. I’m so sorry, Caleb. I’ve wasted so much time.”

“Yeah, you have.” Caleb pressed his forehead to hers. “But you can make it up to me.”

A trembling smile touched Simone’s lips. “I love you,” she breathed, and before he could say anything else, she pressed her mouth tightly against his to prove it.

§

December 12, 2012 - 9:11 AM

Somewhere in Egypt

Terenzio Compound

“When did Robert say he would be back?” Abe asked. He was standing in the laboratory in the south wing of the compound. The device on the table in front of him was three feet tall, in the shape of a bullet, with three metal, claw-like feet coming out of the bottom. Abe had a small gold panel open and was connecting two brightly colored wires.

“He didn’t. I hope everything is all right.” Shirley stood at a table across from Abe, in front of a laptop computer. “Okay, that’s it, Abe. I read her now.”

“And I didn’t electrocute myself that time.” Abe twirled his screwdriver triumphantly, then closed the panel. “She’s all set.”

“Let’s switch her on.” Derek took one end of the machine, and Abe grabbed the other. Carefully, they set the device on to the floor.

“Everybody back up in case I didn’t do that right.” Abe picked up a small remote from the table and walked to the other side of the room. Shirley and Derek followed. Abe pressed the button, and the feet of the device dug into the floor, making holes. Inside the shiny gold casing, an oscillator began to hum. A second later, the team felt a faint vibration underneath their feet.

Derek nodded. “Okay, she works, turn it off.”

Abe pressed another button, and the vibration stopped.

“I hope when Simone uses these they do more than just make the floor shake.” Shirley pulled the goggles off her eyes.

“Me, too,” Derek agreed. “But we can’t really test it without causing an earthquake, so we’ll just have to hope we did it right.”

“Your science is correct.”

Derek, Abe and Shirley all turned at the unexpected voice. Their eyes widened. The color drained from Abe’s face. Shirley gripped Derek’s arm as they all stared.

Two beings stood before them, a man and a woman, approximately six feet tall, with pale skin, blond hair, and solid blue eyes. What was more amazing than their sudden appearance was the halo of light that surrounded the backs of their heads.

“We will need to commune with you, and those who work with you,” said the man.

“Are they angels?” Abe whispered incredulously.

The woman smiled. “No. Pleiadians.”

§

December 12, 2012 - 10:12 PM

Pittsburgh, PA

Illuminati Headquarters

The stone floors echoed with Caesar’s sharp steps. Tony wrestled behind him, but his efforts were weak and pointless. Caesar kept dragging him as if he were nothing more than a sack, and stopped in front of a pair of doors, lifting his gaze to the security camera. After he was identified, they slid open.

Inside the room, six of the twelve members of the Roshaniya were gathered. Two were in the traditional white robes. They were ready to begin a pre-celebration ritual, something they had personally come up with to take better advantages of the energies of fear created by their propaganda machine.

Caesar flung Tony in ahead of him. The men turned, staring down at the DeMarco, then looked up at Caesar. Timothy Rockefeller, head of the forthcoming NAU, looked at Caesar with dangerous curiosity. “What is the meaning of this interruption?”

“He’s a traitor, sir,” Caesar declared, and removed the recording device from his pocket. He played back one of the phone conversations between Tony and Alex.Tony rose to his knees, with his hands bound in front of him, and cracked his neck. “I prefer the term double agent, but whatever floats your boat.”

Caesar stepped into Tony, slamming his fist into Tony’s already beaten face. Tony grunted and fell to the side, blood spilling from his lips.

“You hit like a girl,” Tony muttered, pushing himself back up to his knees, and spit another wad of red onto the floor.

Rockefeller came down the stone steps, closer to Tony. “He is feeding information to the Terenzios?”

“Yes, sir,” Caesar said.

The other members came closer, their gazes fully focused on Tony. The air thickened, grew denser from the dark energy that radiated off of them, their nefarious thoughts swirling through the air.

Tony winced, because he could feel it; their hatred, their fear, as palpable as a touch crawling over his skin. “You know, after a few centuries, with all the scared knowledge at your fingers, I would have thought you were smart enough to get a fuckin’ clue and get over it.” He slid his gaze around at the men as they came toward him. “Guess not.”

Underneath the collar of Tony’s shirt, cowering against the back of his neck, was Gabriella. She pressed her warm little hand against the back of his neck and squeezed her eyes shut, sending him good thoughts, reminding him that death was nothing but transformation, and thanking him profusely for what he had sacrificed for this grand experiment called Ascension.

Tony felt her, but gave no outward indication. Rockefeller came to stand in front of him and grabbed him roughly by the hair, yanking his head back. “Is this true, slave?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s true.” Tony’s sharp blue eyes narrowed. “But I’m not your fucking slave. I never was.”

“What gives you the right to think you can rise up against the very Gods that made you?” Augustus Saintclair hissed in pure anger.

Tony kept his gaze centered on Rockefeller. “You know what? My God is not your God. You go to hell.” He spit right in Rockefeller’s face.

Rockefeller recoiled, disgust contorting his features. Caesar was on Tony in an instant, his fist slamming with brutal force into Tony’s face and head, and when Tony fell over again, Caesar began kicking him viciously.

Rockefeller wiped the bile off his face and snarled, “Enough!”

Caesar stopped as ordered, but Tony remained on the ground, wheezing because Caesar had cracked a few of his ribs.

“Brothers, a sacrifice to the Anunnaki, in celebration of that which cannot be changed.” Rockefeller came forward again, and the rest of the Roshaniya followed, forming a circle around Tony. Caesar backed out of their circle, dropping to his knees, and folded his hands in front of him as if in prayer.

When the chanting began, Gabriella could stay no longer. Whispering soft words of love to Tony, she zipped out of her hiding place and buzzed right to the open window.

Caesar saw her. “My lords, a guardian angel!”

Rockefeller snapped his eyes towards the window, and then shouted, “Geryon, catch it! Kill it and anyone else that gets in your way.”

Four pairs of dark red eyes pierced the shadows as they opened. Geryon, the two headed Igigi, guardian of the Roshaniya, released a terrifying roar. It bounded across the room on four strong legs, jumped up into the windowsill, and then dove out of it, its massive wings snapping open as it chased the angel.

Tony felt Gabriella’s departure and smiled.

“You will not hold that smile for long, slave,” Rockefeller promised, his voice dripping with menace. The Roshaniya clasped hands and began a low, steady chant. As it grew in force, pillars of flames leapt from the stone floor, licking at the high ceiling. A smaller ring of fire crawled out of the flames and slithered around the chanting men.

The mind can create very magical things, and very dark ones. It was not long before the shadows thickened and a presence could be felt. It was not long before Rockefeller’s promise became truth. Tony stopped smiling. And the sounds that ripped from his mouth were those of pure agony.

§

December 12, 2012 - 8:22 PM

New Orleans, LA

Estate of the DeMarco Family

Alexandro sat at the piano in his den. For once, a cool breeze dusted across the Louisiana night, and the windows were open to allow it in. His long fingers moved with expert ease over the black and white keys, commanding the sounds that floated out of the instrument to play with the air. His house was quiet, save for the music he played; a calm moment inside the storm. He had an early morning flight to Rome the next day, to prepare for his part in removing the Roshaniya from power. His son was somewhere safe, and Mona was already in Italy, waiting for his arrival.

Gabriella was fast, but so was the Igigi. Thankfully, Gabriella was also very agile. She could cut corners, and zigzag with greater efficiency. She used that to her advantage, increasing the lead between her and the demon-like creature as she zoomed through the open window and into Alex’s house. She applied the brakes a little too late, and smacked into the back of Alex’s head.

Alex blinked when he felt the impact, his fingers halting abruptly. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Gabriella picking herself up off the floor, putting a hand to her head and shaking it.

Amusement twinkled in his eyes as he turned around on his seat, looking down at her. “Have you been sipping my brother’s bourbon again?”

Senses back in focus, Gabriella looked up at Alex, fluttered back into the air, landed on his shoulder, and began whispering in his ear. Alex blinked, and then all amusement dropped off his face. “Antonio…” His eyes closed for just a moment, and he pressed a hand against his chest. They snapped open, clouding with quiet fury when the Igigi appeared on his windowsill, its red eyes locked with vicious intent on both of them.

“Go. Go and warn Xavier,” Alexandro said to Gabriella as he slowly rose to his feet, his gaze centered on the demon. “I’ll take care of it.”

Both heads of the Igigi roared, a noise that shook the pictures on the walls and rattled the knick knacks on the mantle. Then, it lunged.

Chapter 19

“Do not be daunted by the enormity of the world's grief. Do justly, now. Love mercy, now. Walk humbly, now. You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it.”

- Talmud

December 12, 2012 - 10:11 PM

Washington, DC

The White House

In his pseudo-human form, Enki stood in his brother’s office, waiting for him to return. Something was amiss. He could sense it, could feel the wrongness as acutely as he could feel the presence of the Ascended Masters and the humans of Earth that continued to vibrate in love, despite the travesty that had befallen not only their nation, but Europe, as well.

A short time ago, Lucifer had assured him that the Ascension would succeed; that Spirit, the Source, wanted it. He also knew that every spark of life that had come from the Source had the choice of free will. They had to want the Ascension, too. By all intents and feelings, enough humans on Earth did. Enki’s race—his brother, more specifically—was putting up one hell of a fight, though. Enki worried that his efforts may not be enough.

He stepped away from the window, rubbing his false human eyes, and felt the approaching of one of their messengers. As Enki glanced up, an Igigi appeared in the window, crouching on the sill like the gargoyle statues that almost correctly depicted their appearance. Enki canted his head at the creature. “What is your message?”

The Igigi’s words rang in Enki’s head. My message is for Enlil, my lord.

“You will tell me, and I will pass your message onto my brother.”

The Igigi paused, studying Enki in silence. Enki allowed his eyes to flip, exposing the reptilian irises, and sent his next words directly into the creature’s mind. Do not think to defy me. You will speak now.

The Igigi shifted uncomfortably. The Roshaniya have caught a traitor. DeMarco works against you, with the Terenzios.

Enki blinked. That would be explain the wrongness he had felt. He allowed feelings of anger to taint his energy field, so that the Igigi could feel it, and expressed as much on his face. Where are the DeMarcos now?

Tony DeMarco has been killed. Geryon was sent to dispatch Alexandro, and Tony’s guardian Angel.

Enki nodded. Caesar caught him?

Yes, my lord.

I will alert Enlil of this. Send a message back to the Roshaniya that we have it under control. Caesar is to do nothing but await my brother’s orders.

Yes, my lord. The Igigi hopped around on the sill, and then flew back out into the night.

Enki watched the beast disappear and sighed. He would have to move very carefully to conceal this deception from his brother as long as possible. As if on cue, Enlil opened up the door to his office, closing it behind him.

“Did I sense an Igigi?” Enlil asked, walking over to his desk and dropping a portfolio onto it.

“No. I have not seen one.” Enki turned from the window to look at Enlil. “Are you ready to depart, brother? We should not be late for the ceremonies in Rome.”

Enlil turned off his computer and smiled Enki. Walking over to him, Enlil set his false human hands on Enki’s shoulders. “That I can share these moments with you again, that we will share our victory over the slaves of this planet, means more to me than I can express.”

Enki’s heart twisted in his chest. His brother was so misguided. Enki had tried so hard to show Enlil the light, but Enlil chose to live in darkness. His brother’s cruel refusal to release the people of Earth saddened Enki’s soul. Continuing to hide his true motives from the brethren he loved, Enki smiled. “As am I brother. As am I.”

Enlil embraced Enki tightly, and Enki returned it with genuine affection. “Come.” Enlil smiled and began to transform into his true Anunnaki form. “Tonight, we enjoy the praise of the mortal kings of Earth. In ten days, we stand and laugh together as this Ascension fails.”

§

December 13, 2012 - 5:55 PM

Somewhere in Egypt

Terenzio Compound

“We’ve got a few situations.” Crowded around the conference table with the Terenzios’ were the scientists and the Pledians. Vasco stood at the head of the table and pointed to the two in the back corner. “That’s Merope and Taygeta. They are Pleiadians. They will be operating the teleportation devices that each team will use to get to their prospective locations.”

The scientists looked fascinated by the prospect.

“Is that going to be make us nauseous, too?” Simone asked, glancing over at the Pleiadians.

Merope, who had taken on the physical features of a man, smiled reassuringly. “No. It tickles.”

“For anyone who doesn’t know him, this is our cousin, Xavier.” Vasco motioned at the tall man standing in the corner in a wrinkled suit, who had his father, Christopher’s, eyes.

Xavier stepped forward and nodded at the scientists. Setting his hands on his waist he turned his attention to Simone, and her brothers. “Caesar caught Tony and brought him to the Brotherhood. They killed him.” Xavier’s jaw worked, but he pushed on. “Alex escaped. There were protocols that Tony put into place in case this happened, so Alex can still get into the event in Rome. Tony had a few people on the inside that were loyal to him. Simone,” Xavier reached into his pocket and removed a device that resembled a PDA. “Tony made this. Security codes are being changed, but if you attach this device to the control panel in the Underground Bases it will override them.”

Simone took the device and nodded. “Are we sure it will work?”

“It should. Fingers crossed though.”

“So the Brotherhood knows we’re coming after them?” Lucien asked.

“Tony wouldn’t have told them anything, but we don’t know how much Caesar overheard. Enki is going to do as much damage control from the inside as he can but, I’d be prepared for anything at this point.” Xavier glanced at Vasco. “It’s a sure bet Caesar will be at the celebration in New Orleans.”

“It’s fine, Xavier. I’ll take care of him.” Vasco looked over at the scientists. “Robert will meet you and the rest of your team in Guatemala. They’re in jail.”

“What?” Shirley blinked in surprise. Derek and Abe shared her expression.

“They’re fine,” Vasco assured her. “I sent an SVT agent to look after them.”

“How long have then been in there?” Shirley demanded.

Vasco met her gaze. “Two months.”

“My grandmother has been in jail for two months?” Shirley shot to her feet, anger reddening her ears. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

“Because of this.” Vasco motioned a hand at her. “You would have been distracted from your task, worrying needlessly.”

Shirley’s expression turned incredulous. “Worrying needlessly?”

“Your grandmother is fine, Shirley, we promise,” Simone said, before things got out of hand. “Worst case scenario is she’s bored out of her mind. Our SVT agent on site did make contact with them, so they are aware of the situation. We just couldn’t spring them, yet, without drawing attention to ourselves.”

Shirley still looked angry. “You should have told me.”

“Yes, he should have. Vasco does this constantly, Shirley, but it’s for the best.” Simone touched Shirley’s shoulder. “We need to move on, though.”

“The good news is, you get to spring them out,” Lucien added.

“What do you mean, we get to spring them out?” Derek eyeballed the triplets.

“Abe, I hear, used to be in the military,” Vasco said, “And Robert has a small squad of Cadre assigned to him. It’s a local prison, minimum security. You shouldn’t have any trouble getting them out of there.”

Derek blinked. “You’re serious? You really want us to break them out of jail?”

Abe chuckled and clasped Derek on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, it sounds like fun.”

“After that, you will proceed directly to the site and find the Cave of Creation,” Vasco continued. “The Pleiadians have already given Robert his own teleportation device.”

“If you think we can pull it off.” Derek did not sound so convinced.

“You can, and you will.” Vasco looked around at the rest of the table. “No one can move until Lucien blows up the ELMINT. At that point, we expect worldwide power meltdown, because of the solar flares. Once that happens, each team confirms to the Security Center here they are a go, and proceeds. Xavier and Lieutenant General Archer will coordinate from this facility. Anyone have any questions?”

“How do we communicate with each other once the solar flares knock everything offline?” Lucien asked.

“We’re going to use these. Xavier brought them with him.” Simone slid a rectangular box across the table to Lucien. Inside were five devices that resembled standard headsets, except a small crystal sat in the ear piece, and another smaller one at the mouthpiece.

“They were made by Sirians, someone named Thoth, specifically,” Xavier said.

“As in the Egyptian god, Thoth?” Shirley asked.

Xavier shrugged. “Couldn’t tell you.”

“Any other questions?” Vasco looked around the table.

There was silence and head shakes from around the room. “I think that about covers it, V.” Lucien stood up.

Vasco nodded. “Enjoy the next week. It’s going to go by fast.”

§

December 14, 2012–6:56 PM

Phoenix Isle

Alcyone Island

Caesar pushed open one of the doors to the debriefing room. “I’m not waiting anymore. Time we got things started.”

Amadeo, Olivia, and Kayla stood in the room, looking over at him as he burst in.

“Enlil has given his orders?” Kayla asked.

“No, but it doesn’t matter. I know what needs to be done,” Caesar snapped.

Olivia smiled. “About fucking time someone did something without being babysat.”

“What’s the plan, Caesar?” Amadeo asked.

“What did Leone tell you?” Caesar sat down at the head of the table.

“What I already suspected. Simone gave us the incorrect locations of the underground military bases that they are going to hit. Leone gave us the correct locations,” Olivia said.

“Read them off to me,” Caesar ordered.

Olivia opened the file folder in front of her and gave the names of each base.

Caesar nodded. “That sounds right. It’s what I’d hit. I don’t know how Simone intends to get in—all access codes have been change—but let’s assume she does. Olivia—”

“I’ll be waiting for her. I’ve been itching to put one right in her fucking head.” Olivia’s eyes gleamed at the thought.

“Good. Either Vasco or Lucien will attempt to target the ELMINT.” Caesar looked over at Amadeo.

“Probably Lucien,” Amadeo said. “He spent a lot of time at the training facility on Barrier Isle, under Christopher’s orders. It was most likely to prepare for an assignment like that. I’ll meet him there.”

“Amadeo, it’s really fucking important that Lucien doesn’t prevent the ELMINT from firing. Security will be really tight, but even so.”

“I understand, Caesar. Lucien is the family fuck up. They continue to show their stupidity by letting him try. He’s not going to beat me. I’ll take care of it.”

“You better.” Caesar looked over at Kayla. “You are with me. We’ll be at the Roshaniya’s celebration in New Orleans. Vasco will try to go after them, and I’ve got big plans for him.”

Kayla merely nodded.

“Anything else?” Olivia asked. She was ready to get her team together and come up with a game plan for killing Simone.

“No.” Caesar stood back up. “Just do your fuckin’ jobs, and at the end of the day, we’ll be the Roshaniya’s heroes, and sitting pretty on top of a rightfully controlled world.”

“Sounds like the way it should be.” Amadeo walked towards the door. “I’ll see you all the morning of the 21st.”

Olivia slowly smiled. “What a great day that’s going to be, isn’t it?”

December 20th, 2012

“I'm going to tear your world apart, piece by piece. And then I'm coming for you."

-Liliana Terenzio

Chapter 20

“If there must be trouble let it be in my day, that my child may have peace.”

- Thomas Paine

December 20, 2012 - 10:10 PM

Somewhere in Egypt

Terenzio Compound

I’m ready. I’ve got explosives, angry Cadre, and the thermopy thing.” Lucien patted himself down.

The triplets and their security teams stood in the security center. The scientists had been the first to teleport out. Simone, who had been leaning back against Caleb while the teams prepared, eased out of his arms and walked over to her brother. “You be careful.”

Lucien smiled and hugged her. “Yeah, you too.” He kissed her cheek and looked over her shoulder at Caleb. “You take care of my sister. Anything happens to her…”

“I’ll kick my own ass, don’t worry.” Caleb extended his hand to Lucien. “Good luck.”

Lucien shook it, nodding. “Thanks.”

Vasco pushed off from his lean against the wall. He stepped up to his brother, simply regarded him for a quiet moment, then reached out with one arm and pulled him into a tight hug. “Still the family’s best kept secret. Thank you, Lucien, for always being there.”

Lucien smiled into his brother’s shoulder, clearing his throat as he was released. “Bet your ass, I am. See you guys soon.” He looked over at the four Cadre standing behind him. “Ready boys?” When they nodded Lucien slide his gaze to the Pleiadian called Taygeta, who Lucien had silently noticed, looked suspiciously like Carissa. “Let’s do this.”

Taygeta pressed a few buttons on the crystal device in her hand. A blinding flash of pink light emanated outward, and when it died down, Lucien and his small team of Cadre were gone.

“That doesn’t get any less amazing each time I see it.” Caleb said as he slung his machine gun over his shoulder.

“No, it doesn’t,” Vasco agreed, and extended his hand. “Thank you.”

“I’m not sure what for, but you’re welcome, Vasco.” Caleb took his hand, shaking firmly.

Vasco simply nodded, then looked over at his sister. A faint smile curled across his mouth, before he hugged her. “We don’t leave this place until we call checkmate.”

Simone returned the embrace tightly, closing her eyes and smiling. “Be careful, Vasco. But kick Caesar’s ass when you see him.”

Vasco pulled back to look at her. “What else would Stefano really come back for?” He winked, and then looked over at Taygeta. “I’m ready.”

Again, the pink light pulsed from the device, and when the light faded, Vasco was gone.

Simone drew in a deep breath and refused to acknowledge the heavy weight in her gut that whispered she may never see her brothers again. She looked over at Lieutenant General Archer. “You’ll alert us when the White Lotus Society rendezvous with the SVT teams at the concentration camps?”

Archer nodded. “Yes, Madame President.” He saluted her. “Good luck to you.”

“Thanks.” Simone fitted the alien-made headset into her ear. She looked up at Caleb. “Ready for some ground work?”

Caleb grinned. “Let’s do it.”

Simone gave a thumbs up sign to Taygeta. A second later, she and the rest of her team disappeared.

§

December 20, 2012 - 10:44 PM

Washington, DC

The White House

“What message?”

The Igigi kept its large, ugly head bowed. The message delivered to your brother Enki, my lord.

Enlil’s eyes narrowed. “What was the message?”

That the DeMarcos are traitors and working with the Terenzio’s.

Never had such a sound been heard in the Vice President’s office as the one that ripped out of Enlil’s pseudo-human throat.

His brother had deceived him. The Galactic Federation was interfering. Enlil knew this for fact, now that he had actually received the report regarding the true events with the Terenzios’ fleeing aircraft. An interdimensional vessel had been involved. When Enlil found out which race the craft belonged too, there would be hell to pay.

Time was of the essence. The Galactic Alignment was little more than an hour away. It was imperative that ELMINT come online to block the solar storms and waves that would emanate from the Dark Rift, attempting to push into the consciousness of man. The night of the Solstice would come and pass without the slaves even knowing there was an incident. Their hope would be crushed. Their fear would be allowed to reign over their other emotions, which would allow his reign on this planet to continue. And on the morning of the twenty second day, he would stand before the Galactic Federation and laugh at their flimsy attempts to interfere, their silly faith in the Great Source.

Dismissing the Igigi, Enlil snapped a silent order to the two Secret Service agents, Zetas, standing at attention inside his office. They opened the door for him, and then followed at his heel as he marched down the hallways of the White House and out onto the front lawn. He would no longer leave Terenzio’s fate in the hands of the slaves. He would deal with them personally.

As he entered the night, beams of light began springing up on the grass. Five, ten, twenty. When the light faded, there stood his best Anunnaki Warriors in all their glory, without the false human disguise they so often wore.

Enlil did not care if the humans saw. Let them, he thought. The world would be a much different place by the time the sun rose.

Enlil let his iris flip, exposing his true reptilian eyes as he drew them over his brethren. “Warriors of Nibiru—”

“Enlil!”

Enlil snapped his gaze to the right. He was not surprised to see Enki walking towards him. The scientist. The weakling. Enlil hissed at him. “Your exploits have failed, brother. I know everything. And after I rip the very souls out of those Terenzios, I will deal with you.”

Enki’s stern gaze centered on his brother. “Your knowledge comes too late. You cannot stop what has been created.”

Enlil growled, lowly. “I can and I will.” In the blink of an eye, Enlil shed his human skin, literally. Pieces fell to the ground and turned to dust as his true form emerged, a good foot taller than his brother. “You cannot defeat me, Enki. We both know that.”

“Physically, brother no, I cannot.” Enki motioned upwards. “But they can.”

Enlil looked upward and his eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed with his mounting fury. The sky was suddenly full of the race of Angels. The tall, winged, disgustingly human-looking beings floated to the ground. Archangel Gabriel and Michael stood at their center. Lightning snapped and arced from Gabriel’s wings. Michael's golden chest plate gleamed. A short sword was sheathed at his waist and grim determination flashed through Michael’s eyes.

“We need not fight, Enlil, if you would only stop this nonsense,” Michael gently implored. “Open your heart. Feel the Source. It calls to you. Your job is done, brother. Let them go.” Enlil faced Michael head on, his jaws snapping open to release his roar. The wings on his back extended like the head of a cobra and glowed a brilliant red. “I will not!” His claws flexed, growing an inch longer, their points sharper than a Hitori Hanso sword. “Get out of my way, Angel.”

Michael’s eyes narrowed. He drew his sword and his wings burst into brilliant blue flame. “We are the guardians, and we will not falter.”

“Then you will die,” Enlil spat. He roared a command, and the Anunnaki Warriors charged at the Angels.

With a speed that would be unseen to a human eye, Michael charged Enlil. Enlil snarled and surged forward to meet him. As the two collided, a blinding flash of light and flame swirled around them, erupting high into the sky.

A scientist not a warrior, Enki could do nothing but watch as the battle between Angels and Demons reflected in his sad eyes.

§

December 20, 2012 - 10:44 PM

Corregiadora Ortiz

Police Station

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Shirley whispered.

“What, you never broke anybody out of jail before?” Derek teased, but he had to admit he was pretty nervous himself. He wanted to sink even further down in the car when Abe, Robert, and five Cadre walked into the police station.

Grams was napping fitfully in her cell when the angry bang of a gunshot woke her. Climbing off her cot, she walked over to the bars, curling her elegantly aged fingers around the rusting metal. “What’s going on?” she demanded when the police officer walked up to her carrying his gun. He raised the weapon silently, pointing the muzzle at her.

Grams’ eyes widened, but before the flair of panic and fear could fully grip her, she was gasping in shock as the man crumbled to the floor.

“Hi, Grams.” Abe smiled and set the fire extinguisher down.

Grams blinked as realization set in, and then a shaky laugh escaped her. When Abe opened the cell door, she seized his face between her hands and gave him a big smooch. “The gods love you, because I know I certainly do. Phil and Steve are…”

“Dead.” Robert said from down the hall. “We have got to go.”

“Oh, no.” Grams looked pained. Now she knew what those gunshots had been.

Abe took Grams arm. “C’mon, we’re on a deadline.”

§

“Derek?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you hear that?”

Derek peered over the steering wheel just as Abe, Robert, Grams and the Cadre came out of the station. Suddenly, the glare of headlights illuminated their figures, accompanied by a crescendo of furious shouts. “Oh, shit.”

The soldiers leaning out of the open jeep started firing. The Cadre swept in front of Abe, Grams and Robert and fired back, chaos erupting as bullets from two sides ripped through the air.

“Start the car, Derek!” Shirley yelled.

Her shout spurred Derek into motion. Hand shaking, he twisted the key. Attempting not to panic, he forgot to keep his foot on the clutch and the car stalled, lurching forward. He got it right the second time, and the engine coughed to life. Shirley threw open her door, grabbing her grandmother, and Derek shrieked when he heard the plink of bullets slamming into the side of his door.

Three Cadre dropped to the ground, dead by the time Abe shoved Robert into the car. The remaining two squeezed in after them. “Haul ass, Derek!” Abe shouted.

“Seatbelts!” Derek slammed on the gas, speeding down the narrow dirt road.

“Where’s that teleport thing, Robert?” Abe spared him a quick glance and slapped a fresh clip into his handgun.

“I’m on it!” Robert pulled the shiny, triangular device out of his vest pocket and started pressing buttons.

“What teleport thing?” Grams looked bewildered. A second later, both she and Shirley screamed when back windshield shattered.

“Keep your heads down!” Abe shouted, then stuck his arm out the window and fired back.

“I’ve got it, get ready!” Robert pressed a button, and in the next instant a brilliant flash of light surrounded them, propelling them forward down an ethereal tunnel. When the world came back into focus, the car was facing the ancient Mayan site.

It wasn’t an ideal place to bring a moving vehicle though. Derek’s eyes widened as he saw the thick, road less jungle looming in front of them. “Oh, shit, hang on!” Derek slammed on the brakes, and the car hit a tree with a little less speed. The airbags deployed, a thin cloud of smoke hissed out of the mangled hood. The doors creaked a little as the team climbed out of the car.

“Thanks for not killing us just then.” Abe slapped Derek on the shoulder.

Derek swallowed. Eyes wide and breathing hard, he nodded absently. “Yeah. Yeah, no problem.”

“Everybody okay?” Robert looked around at the group. Shirley was hugging her grandmother, but nodded over her shoulder at him. “Okay, no time to waste. Let’s get the equipment out and get down there.”

§

December 20, 2012 - 10:44 PM

Switzerland

CERN

Being teleported really fucked with one’s sense of vertigo, Lucien realized as he and his team appeared in the snow covered lawn in front of the CERN building. Lucien took a quick second to get his bearings, then pressed the button on his stopwatch. They had ten minutes to get inside the building, and arm the ELMINT. Pulling out his gun, Lucien motioned for his team to follow, and they sprinted past several heavily armed, patrolling security squads, literally unseen.

The building that housed the ELMINT was dome shaped and sat behind the main CERN laboratory. Three armed guards stood in front of the door, smoking and chatting. The Cadre knocked them out and took their radios.

“You two, wait outside. Nobody gets in here until we arm it. You two, with me,” Lucien whispered. Taking a deep breath, Lucien slowly pushed the door to the building open, just enough that he could slide through it. ELMINT resembled a giant telescope. It had a parabolic shaped head that sat on top of a circular tower made of metal with wires wrapped around pipes of steel. The giant diamond shaped crystal was enclosed in a glass container in the center. It stretched up three levels and a steel platform slinkied around it. On the second level, two separate rows of computer terminals took up space. A dozen men and women in white lab coats worked in the area, obviously getting ready for the night’s events. Two guards stood at the lower level, and Lucien knocked them both out with the strike of his gun to the back of their heads. Lucien’s men shot the other two guards. It was only then that the scientists realized something was wrong. Pressing a button on his thermoptic device, Lucien flickered into sight, grabbed one of the scientists by the back of his lab coat, and pushed him towards the door, shouting at the rest and wildly brandishing his gun.

“Step away from the terminals! You all up there, ground floor, right now! Right fucking now or I’ll put a bullet in you! Move! Move!” Academics, not soldiers, the scientists released startled sounds, threw up their hands, and began filing down the metal staircase to the waiting Cadre.

“Keep ’em quiet,” Lucien said to his team, and went sprinting up to the third floor. He pressed a button on the railing, and a plank stretched out over to the ELMINT, stopping in front of the crystal. Lucien jogged across it, then snapped open the keypad. The keys were marked with symbols—the Anunnaki language—not numbers. He paused to recall the code, and then typed it in.

A green light flashed, and the glass panel surrounding the crystal opened. Lucien swung his pack around and pulled out a brick of C-4.

“Don’t move, Lucien.”

Lucien froze. From below, he heard warning shouts, then gunfire. Goddammit, he thought. Frowning, he turned around to face a coldly triumphant Amadeo.

“Walk forward, slowly,” Amadeo ordered.

Narrowing his eyes, Lucien obeyed, walking across the plank to face his cousin, who backed up a step. “Set them to the side, right there.” Amadeo motioned with tilt of his head. “Slowly.”

Lucien hesitated. He could see the rapidly declining numbers on his stopwatch. His mind worked frantically for a way out as he bent down and set both the explosive and detonator on the ground where Amadeo had indicated.

“Guns, too,” Amadeo said, evenly.

Gritting his teeth, Lucien pulled out both his guns and set them on the ground. Amadeo walked forward, keeping his gaze on Lucien as he kicked the guns behind him. Then, Amadeo set his gun down on the railing. “I’m really going to enjoy this.” Without hesitating, he punched Lucien in the face. Lucien stumbled backwards, and Amadeo advanced with a quick assault of his fists. Lucien tasted blood on the third punch. The fourth made his vision swim and the world lurch beneath his feet.

C’mon, Lucien, my eighty year old sister can block a punch better than that. Forcing himself to focus, when Amadeo swung again, Lucien smacked his cousin’s wrist, then slammed his forearm into Amadeo’s mouth. Amadeo’s head jerked back and Lucien clapped his hands against Amadeo's ears, disorienting him. Amadeo grabbed at his head, and Lucien kicked the tender spot of Amadeo’s knee. Amadeo gave a shout, and as he fell Lucien punched Amadeo near his temple. Lucien watched him collapse, just as his stopwatch began frantically beeping.

The ceiling to the ELMINT building began to slide apart, and Lucien jerked his gaze upwards. “Shit,” he muttered. Whirling around, he dashed over to the C-4 and snatched up the brick. Running back across the plank, he placed the bomb against the crystal. He hit a button, and the case slid shut as the machine’s satellite head began tilting backwards to aim at the exposed sky.

Lucien went to punch a button on the detonator, just to realize he hadn’t grabbed it. He whirled around to see Amadeo standing, holding it in one hand, his gun pointed at Lucien with the other.

“You failed, Lucien,” Amadeo sneered. “But considering it’s you, that’s no shocker.”

Lucien lifted his hands halfway in gesture of surrender, but his gray eyes were mocking. “The nice thing about C-4 is how it reacts to intense heat. I’m thinking, when that thing charges up to fire, that crystal is going to get pretty hot.”

Amadeo’s eyes widened and his gaze jerked from Lucien to the device just behind him. “No.”

Taking advantage of Amadeo’s distraction, Lucien charged him, getting a hand around the gun and sending a shot harmlessly into the air. As the two men collided, the ELMINT engaged its activation sequence, and the Atlantean crystal began charging in preparation to fire.

Outside, a monstrous pillar of fire and smoked stained the sky when the ELMINT exploded.

Chapter 21

“Find out just what people will submit to, and you have found out the exact amount of injustice and wrong which will be imposed upon them; and these will continue until they are resisted with either words or blows, or both. The limits of tyrants are prescribed by the endurance of those whom they oppress.”

- Frederick Douglass

December 20, 2012 - 11:00 PM

New Orleans, LA

Gallier Hall

Vasco arrived in New Orleans at a moment of sudden panic. Just a minute before, power lines had suddenly erupted in showers of dangerous sparks, then shut down, thrusting the city into darkness. High above, where the human eye couldn’t see, the Global Satellite Communications system was a sitting duck to the awesome power of the sun, and one by one, each satellite had been fried by the peaking solar storms.

Vasco stood behind a tree in Lafayette Park, directly across from Gallier Hall, watching. The thermoptic device attached to his belt kept him hidden. Gallier Hall was a beautiful example of Greek revival architecture. The building had once housed New Orleans’ City Hall, currently it was rented out for high profile parties, events, or the Brotherhood, whenever they needed it. The Roshaniya and select members of their followers were inside the building, but the blackout had rudely interrupted their party, and now they were as confused and concerned as everyone else.

St. Charles Avenue had been blocked off from Podryas Street to Girod. Local police, and scattered military watched the perimeters. More prevalent were the personal security of the Brotherhood, serious-faced, plain-suited men that resembled the Secret Service. After the power went out, they stood in small groups, conversing with each other. Because radios no longer worked, they couldn’t get a hold of anyone with authority, and they weren’t sure what to do.

Vasco’s mouth subtly curved. The mere fact that the city was suddenly on a power and communications blackout meant Lucien had accomplished his mission, though Vasco had never doubted it. He took a moment to savor his brother’s victory. When that moment pass-ed, it was time for his. He touched his Sirian headset.

“Compound, come in. This is SVT. I’m going in.”

“Roger that, SVT.”

Vasco removed the device, folded it shut, and tucked it into the inside pocket of his fatigues. He pulled the night vision goggles from the top of his head down over his eyes and removed his 9mm. It had been fitted with a silencer and laser scope. Deftly avoiding brushing against any security guards, Vasco walked up the stone steps and into the building.

Tony’s intel stated that the Roshaniya would be on the third floor. Inside, the building it was pitch black, except for the sway of security guards’ flashlights over the well-dressed elite. A noisy, tense hum filled the air, and over the guests’ voices he could hear the stern, but shaky, voices of their security guards, asking them to remain calm and in their perspective reception halls. Easing past them all, Vasco went to the staircase. He was halfway up it when he paused. Caesar stood at the top, waving his flashlight over the crowd below, his gaze searching—and knowing. Vasco’s hand flexed around the handle of his gun, but he resisted the urge to shoot Caesar right then and there. He pacified his ego with patience and walked right past his nemesis.

At the top of the stairs, Vasco made a right. The ballroom, where the six members of the Roshaniya and one hundred of their devoted followers were, was at the end of the hallway. There were three doors to get into it. Vasco walked over to the one in the middle and cracked it open. He could hear their raised voices from within.

“Where are the gods?”

“I thought we had a device that would prevent this?”

“How we will get in touch with them?”

“Keep quiet, all of you. The cars will be brought around soon, and we’ll retreat to the underground bases.”

Vasco slipped in through the door, in front of a small group of men, and silently closed it behind him. A security guard flashed a light in his direction, but of course, saw nothing. Vasco eased to the right of the doorway and watched the guard walk over to the door, open it back up, peek out into the hallway, and then shrug and close it again. Vasco stepped up onto an empty chair to give him a better vantage point and line of sight. Most of the men in the room wore their traditional ceremonial robes. The power outage had interrupted them at the beginning of Cremation of Care ritual, and aside from the illuminating beam of the flashlights, the eerie glow of candles provided some light for the room. Vasco adjusted the zoom feature on his goggles and began searching the crowd. Having memorized the faces of the men he was to kill, they were not hard to locate. They were where he thought they would be, standing around the giant owl statue that had been positioned in the corner of the room.

Vasco lifted the weapon, watching the small red dot make a perfect mark against his target’s chest. He pulled the trigger without hesitation, slid the weapon a few inches to the right, and did it again. When the third Roshaniya dropped, clutching his chest, the rest of their brothers realized that something was horribly wrong.

“Someone’s shooting at us!”

“Let no one leave, find the shooter, goddammit!”

Operating on a pure hunch, Caesar had come upstairs to check on the Roshaniya when he heard the chaos echoing out from the ballroom. He threw open the door closest to the stairs just as the fifth Roshaniya dropped to the ground.

“My brothers are dead! Help us!”

As Saintclair shouted, Caesar snapped his gaze over to the Roshaniya and saw the red dot marking his forehead. His urge to kill Vasco outweighing his duty, Caesar didn’t warn the elder, but followed the faint laser line across the room. He lost it right by the second door and narrowed his eyes. Shoving some panicked member of the Brotherhood out of his way, Caesar pulled the Taser gun from underneath his suit jacket, stepped back out into the hallway, and inched closer to the door he suspected Vasco would exit from.

Vasco didn’t bother to watch the last man fall after he pulled the trigger. Keeping the gun in his hand, he stepped down, pulled the door back open, stepped out into the hallway—and pain exploded through his system.

When Caesar saw the door open he counted two seconds, took a gamble and squeezed the trigger. He was rewarded with Vasco’s surprised shout, and the sound of a body hitting the floor, just as the Brotherhood began pouring out of the doorway behind him, shouting and screaming about an enemy within.

Walking over to where the taser was stuck into a form he couldn’t yet see, Caesar reached down, patting Vasco by the waist, and found the thermoptic device. “Did DeMarco give you these?” Caesar switched it off, and Vasco immediately appeared, twitching violently. Caesar smirked coldly. “I bet you’re pretty proud of yourself, aren’t you?” He knelt down and patted Vasco’s cheek. “So am I.”

The last thing Vasco saw before consciousness was ripped from him was Caesar’s dark smile.

§

December 20, 2012 - 11:00 PM

Mt. Shasta California

Abandoned Mine Shaft

“That’s it. Power’s off. Let’s move.” Simone pulled off the alien headset and tucked it into her pocket. Standing at the top of the supposedly abandoned mine shaft were fourteen Cadre, Caleb and Simone. The Cadre stood in pairs of two and carried six closed containers that housed Tesla’s earthquake device.

Simone walked over to the control panel that operated the elevator, and placed the PDA-like device Xavier had given her over the top of it. The device immediately locked onto the panel and began making a low humming noise. Ten seconds later it beeped and the elevator gate unlocked.

“How easy would our jobs have been, last lifetime, with one of those things?” Caleb shook his head and Simone chuckled. Caleb pulled back the gate when the elevator arrived and stepped in the elevator after Simone. The rest of the Cadre crowded in with them.

“Time to see if these invisibility devices really work.” Simone pressed the button on her device, and the rest of the team did the same. For whatever reason, once they were invisible together, they could still see each other. Simone hadn’t bothered to have Xavier explain it to her; she didn’t particularly care why, so long as they just worked. There was no button to press inside the elevator. Once they closed the gate, it began descending on its own.

“How many lifetimes do you think we’ve done things like this?” Simone asked Caleb as she tucked the PDA back into her pocket.

Caleb grinned lightly. “Probably all of them. It’s what we do, babe.”

The Cadre “Oorahed” and Simone laughed at their agreement. She set the timer on her watch, since their thermoptic devices worked in ten minute intervals.

Caleb bent slightly to murmur in her ear, “If I don’t get to tell you this later, you look really hot in black fatigues.”

Barely restraining a smile, Simone kept her eyes forward as the elevator shaft kept descending. “You should see what I’ve got on underneath it.”

The Cadre “Oorahed” again.

§

December 20, 2012 - 11:11 PM

Piedras Negras

Mayan Ruins

“Never mind where they came from, what the hell is that?!” The Scientists and their Cadre were crowded around the opening that led underneath the ruins, when what appeared to be a small army of PLFs appeared. But Abe wasn’t talking about the PLFs. He was pointing at the Igigi that circled the sky above them.

“Forget about that. You’ve got to get down there. We’ll hold them off.” Robert snapped open the case, and pulled out the crystal, handing it to Grams.

“I’m with you, Robert.” Abe slapped a fresh magazine into his assault rifle.

Derek and Shirley blinked over at him. “But Abe—”

“Do you know how long it’s been since I got to play military?” Abe cut off Shirley’s protest. “Stop arguing. Get moving.”

Shirley swallowed hard, leaned over, and kissed his cheek. Then she scrambled over to her grandmother. They were all suited up and ready to go below. Grams secured the golden rod to her waist, doubled checked her rope, and went down first.

“Hurry!” Robert shouted at them, as one of the remaining Cadre tossed a grenade.

“Please, be careful.” Derek clasped Abe on the shoulder.

“Yeah, you, too.” Abe squeezed his arm, then gave him a little shove. “Haul ass.”

“C’mon, Derek!” Shirley yelled just before she rappelled down after her grandmother.

Derek jumped as the dirt around his feet exploded in small bursts because of the gunfire crashing into it. Shoving his spelunking helmet on, he secured the rope around his waist, tied the knot, and then disappeared into the unknown.

§

December 20, 2012 - 11:11 PM

Washington, DC

The White House

Enlil’s claws ripped open the skin on Michael’s beautiful face, staining it with blood. Before the wounds could heal, Enlil swiped his other in the same manner, then kicked him so hard that Michael went crashing back into a wall of the White House. Roaring with bloodlust, Enlil gave him no reprieve and charged. Michael shook his head once, saw Enlil coming, and surged to his feet, flying out to meet him. The two crashed together and Michael took Enlil to the ground, the impact dragging up the earth underneath them. Holding Enlil down with his forearm against the reptile’s throat, Michael shoved the blade of his sword into Enlil’s side, a deadly place for an Anunnaki to get injured because of the close proximity to his vital organs. Enlil’s roar could be heard in Maryland.

Michael twisted the weapon, closing Enlil’s wound around it and preventing him from healing it. A second sound of fierce pain and harsh defiance exploded from Enlil, and his clawed hands made their marks on Michael’s arms, spilling the Angel’s blood, as he slowly stopped fighting, his head dropping back into the dirt.

Breathing heavily, Michael stood up, looking down at Enlil sadly. “I am sorry. Return to the source, brother,” he whispered.

“Michael!”

Michael turned, and a smile slid over his battle weary face when he saw Gabriel. He took a step in his partner’s direction and suddenly halted. His eyes widened. A sudden flutter of white feathers, now stained with drops of crimson, fell to the ground. A clawed hand slithered over Michael's shoulder. Enlil yanked him backward, shoving the Angel’s own sword through his body. “You…will come…with me…” Enlil hissed viciously. He fell to his knees before Michael did, and slumped over a second later, this time gone.

Gabriel was at Michael’s side in an instant, catching the Archangel’s body before he collapsed to the ground. Michael simply smiled up at him, lifting his hand, and touched Gabriel's cheek. It fell back onto his stained breastplate a second later, when a soul decided it was time to return home.

Gabriel drew his hand gently over Michael’s face, closing his eyes. The remaining Angels formed a circle around them, dropping to one knee in silent prayer for a quick journey home. Enki walked slowly over to them.

Tears in his eyes, Gabriel looked up at Enki. “We have done all we can do.”

Enki slowly nodded. “There is one last task I must ask of you.”

Chapter 22

“The difficulties of life are intended to make us better, not bitter.”

-Author Unknown

December 20, 2012 - 11:44 PM

Mid Way City

Kinsley, Kansas

That’s the last one.” Ten dead station guards littered the area. The device used to burrow three miles into the earth, had burned the walls to glass. A sign hung from the ceiling, written in Sumerian that informed the employees of their current location and subsequent destination. In front of the parked train, a giant steel door blocked the path to the next station. The Cadre took positions along the perimeter, while Simone finished arming Tesla’s device.

“Nothing to it.” Caleb winked at Simone as she finished.

That was when everything went wrong.

Bursts of pale pink light appeared on the floor around them. A second later Olivia appeared, joined by a dozen PLFs flanking her. They wore their own thermoptic devices, too, because Simone was positive that Olivia saw her. There was no other reason for the cold, heartless smile that spread over Olivia’s mouth and flamed to life in her eyes.

“Simone, get on the train!” Caleb shouted, shoving her behind him as the gunfire began to erupt around them.

For Simone, the world slowed down, and everything became surreal. She sprinted to the train, keeping her body low. From the corner of her eye, she could see Caleb’s arm jerking with the recoil of his gun every time he pulled the trigger, remaining in front of her, shielding her as they ran. Her foot passed the train door’s threshold, when she saw Caleb stumble. He smacked into the side of the train and he sank to his knees, his black fatigues staining with the dark color of his blood. She couldn’t even scream his name, because Olivia was advancing, shooting at her. Time sped up again for Simone as the doorway above her head sparked because of the bullet that crashed into it. The next grazed her arm, ripping open a small piece of her skin and causing a stinging pain that infuriated Simone more than it hurt her. Olivia’s next shot clicked empty, and Simone reached to pull her own gun, but Olivia crashed into her, screaming in murderous fury.

Simone stumbled back into the train and slammed into the wall, her back hitting the button to make the train doors slide closed. Olivia punched Simone in the mouth, and Simone’s head jerked back, the coppery taste of blood flowing over her tongue. Hissing in fury, Simone jammed her fingers into the V at Olivia’s throat. As soon as she started choking, Simone rammed her knee into Olivia’s stomach, and then snatched her by the hair, yanking her cousin’s head back.

“Did you shoot him!?” Simone screamed it into her face, and slapped Olivia before she could answer. “Did you?!”

Olivia recoiled at the slap, but set her cruel eyes on Simone and croaked out, “I was aiming for you. But he’ll do for now.”

The rage that tore through Simone nearly blinded her. She reared back her fist, but Olivia batted it away and grabbed Simone’s face, shoving her head back into the wall. Simone’s vision swam, and Olivia reached down for the gun at Simone’s waist. Feeling Olivia’s intent, Simone snatched her cousin by the throat, the tips of her fingers digging in a claw-like grip, choking her, and Olivia brought her opposite hand up, grabbing at Simone’s wrist. Just as Olivia pulled the gun free, Simone slapped her fingers around Olivia’s forearm, her muscles straining and burning as they fought for control.

*Suddenly, the train doors were shoved open and a single shot rang out. Olivia’s eyes widened. Her grip slackened. Simone jerked her gaze over Olivia’s shoulder and saw Caleb leaning heavily on the door with his sidearm braced in his trembling hands. A hint of a smile lifted the corner of Simone's mouth, vanishing as she glared at her cousin. "Didn't see that coming, did you?" She punched Olivia in the jaw, and watched her crumble to the ground with no small amount of satisfaction. Simone kicked the gun out of Olivia’s hand and gave a small cry as Caleb's knees buckled. Rushing to his side, Simone caught him around the waist and fell with him.

It had taken a lot of sheer, stubborn, determination for Caleb to find the strength to hold the weight of his gun up as long as he did. Now that he was completely certain Simone was all right he felt his strength give. A little smile touched Caleb’s lips and he pressed his head against her shoulder. "I knew you had it covered. I just wanted to shoot her back."

Simone laughed, but her voice was thick with tears. "My hero," she murmured, stroking his cheek. "My big damn hero." The front of her shirt was wet with blood; Caleb's blood. Clenching her jaw, Simone opened up the front of his fatigues. She did not recognize the severity of his injuries, but Liliana did. Panic clawed at her chest. "Caleb. Stay with me."

"It’s…it’s okay babe. You knew it was going to happen like this. Dejavu, huh?" Caleb tilted his head back to look up at her. "Spend…spend our next lifetime with me."

Knowing didn't make it easier. Having lived through it once, as Liliana and Kyle, didn't make it any easier, either. With tears streaming down her cheeks, Simone pulled him into her lap and kissed him. "And the one after that, and the one after that. You can't get away from me."

Caleb slowly smiled. "Good answer." With some effort, Caleb lifted his hand, touching her face, his thumb catching her tears. "I love you."

A sob fell from Simone's trembling mouth. She clutched Caleb's hand and turned her face into his touch, pressing kiss after kiss against his palm. "I love you, too." She kissed his knuckles and, lastly, his lips. "Always," she whispered. "Always."

What more did a man need to hear? To feel, before he left a lifetime? Nothing, Caleb thought. Absolutely, nothing. He finally let his lids close, keeping the picture of her in his mind’s eye. He guided Simone back to his mouth, one more time. For Caleb, it was the perfect way to take your last breath.

Simone felt him go, but she wasn't ready for him to leave. Closing her eyes against the flood of heartache, she pressed her forehead to Caleb’s, gripping him tighter to her and released a soundless sob.

“Madame President? Madame President I’m so sorry but we’ve got to go.” A cadre touched her shoulder. There were six of them left.

Simone swallowed hard and kissed Caleb again, gently. It took her another moment to let him go. “Bring him.” She told the solider.

“Yes ma’am.” The Cadre hoisted Caleb up, bringing him onto the train. Simone yanked out the Cadre’s sidearm, and stalked back to Olivia. She used her foot to turn her cousin’s body over. Olivia was still alive, though dying in slow agony because of where Caleb’s bullet had struck. The pain she was in was clear on Olivia’s now pale face, but just as fierce was the look of hatred that she gave Simone.

Looking down at her cousin, Simone reflected that same emotion back to her. “Checkmate, bitch,” she whispered and put two in Olivia’s head. Simone stood motionless for several seconds, realizing the cold sense of satisfaction she felt was overshadowed compared to the pain ripping up her heart because Caleb was gone too. And that just pissed her off even more. “Get her off my train,” Simone said to the Cadre handing him back his gun. She pulled the headset out of from the front pocket of her fatigues, placing it in her ear. They still had one last base to hit. “Let’s go.”

§

December 20, 2012 - 11:44 PM

Underground Ruins

Piedras Negras

“Oh, my God, it’s magnificent.” The new trio had landed in a small room, found a hole in the stone wall they could pass through, and then found themselves in a gigantic chamber. Grams cracked two cyalume light sticks, and even their light couldn’t fully illuminate the room. The stone walls were marked with Mayan glyphs and another vastly different language. Three massive stone doors provided more options than they wanted on which way to go next.

“I know those are Mayan, but what language is that?” Derek waved his flashlight over the walls.

“It’s not Sumerian.” Shirley stood next to Derek, studying the strange symbols.

“It’s Leumerian,” Grams suddenly answered.

Derek and Shirley looked over at her curiously. “How do you know that?” Shirley asked

Grams looked down at the golden rod in her hand. It was then that Derek and Shirley noticed the crystal seemed to be glowing faintly. “It just told me,” Grams said.

“Grams…” Shirley stepped over to her grandmother, trading glances between her and the crystal. “Are you okay?”

“Of course I am. I’m not crazy, either.” Grams patted Shirley’s cheek, and then walked over to the doors.

“Crystals do store information,” Derek reminded Shirley, watching Grams.

“This way.” Grams was standing in front of the door on the left. She touched the crystal she carried to the small circular cerulean crystal embedded in the wall next to the door. As soon as the crystals touched, the door swung loudly open. As if expecting them, the dozen torches lining the golden walls burst into flame. The same mixture of language marked the walls, but most impressive was the gigantic marble statue of the dragon standing in the center of the room. He was facing the doorway, his stern, knowing gaze fixated on the same spot the three scientists stood.

“That’s amazing,” Derek whispered.

“Breathtaking.” Shirley took a step closer, cautiously, as if she expected at any moment the statue would suddenly come to life.

“His name is Anataboga. A long time ago, the Draconika, as they are called, guarded the Akashic Records for us,” Grams said, staring up at the statue with a childlike smile on her face.

Neither Derek nor Shirley bothered asking her how she knew that. Apparently, the crystal had a direct download button.

“Where’s the next doorway?” Shirley asked, finally taking her eyes off the dragon to look around the room.

“Good question,” Derek said and glanced down at his watch. “We’ve got to hurry.”

“Grams?” Shirley turned to her grandmother, but the older woman was already in motion, walking right towards the statue.

“Give me a boost, Derek,” Grams said.

Curious, Derek walked over to her, and Grams pushed on his shoulders to get him to kneel. “I need to get on your shoulders.”

“What for?” Derek asked, even as he knelt. Shirley came up behind them to help.

Grams climbed onto Derek’s shoulders, and as he stood back up, she gripped his hair a little too hard to keep her balance.

“Ouch!”

Grams looked sheepish. “Sorry, lovey.” She gave his head a little pat. “And to answer your question, I’ve got to give him this.” She waved the rod at the dragon. Derek walked closer so Grams could reach, and she slid the golden rod into the Dragons slightly curled, clawed hand.

The claw snapped shut, Derek stumbled back a step, but Shirley pressed a hand against his back to steady him, and he bent down, letting Grams back on her feet.

Just as Derek straightened, the statue started moving. The dragon’s wings flapped once, clouds of dusts jumping into the air and falling back to the floor as the statue reared back on its hinds legs. A stone slab in the floor underneath it slid open, and a dim, welcoming light pulsed from within.

“Oh, my God,” Shirley whispered, amazed.

“And I really thought I’d seen everything.”

The trio whirled around to see Abe standing behind them, one arm clenched against his side, his machine gun slung over the other shoulder.

“Abe!” Grams looked delighted. That emotion and her relief were shared by Derek and Shirley as they rushed over to their friend.

“You’re hurt.” Shirley looked down at his bleeding arm.

“Flesh wound. I’ll be okay,” Abe assured her.

“What about Robert?” Derek asked, fearing the answer.

Abe sadly shook his head. “He took a few out on his way, though.”

“Are they still back there?” Shirley asked him.

“No.” Abe’s brows pinched together, “There were uh, well…” he finally just shook his head and start laughing nervously. “I swear to God, guys, Angels came out of the sky and helped us.”

Grams just smiled. Derek and Shirley blinked in surprise. “Angels?” Derek repeated.

“Yeah. Angels. I still can’t believe it, but honest to God, wings and all.”

The group was silent a moment, processing that information. Finally, Shirley shrugged. “Stranger things have obviously happened.”

That earned light laughter. “Ain’t that the truth. C’mon, let’s see what’s down there.” Abe led the way. Slowly, they descended a staircase. The room at bottom was easily as wide as the one above, and filled with crystals—on the floor, walls, even the ceiling. They were various shapes, and they all pulsed with the seven colors of the rainbow.

“It’s so beautiful,” Shirley whispered, a tear forming in her eyes.

“Yes, it is,” Derek agreed, then reached out and took her hand in his own. Shirley smiled up at him and put her head on his shoulder.

“Now what?” Abe asked.

“Wait. They’ll make everyone remember when it’s time. It will free us to be reconnected with the Great mind,” Grams said.

“How much time we got?” Abe looked over at them.

“Five minutes.”

§

December 20, 2012 - 11:44 PM

Switzerland

CERN

Charred broken metal, blocks of concrete and rubble, and black wisps of smoke littered the inside of the building. Lucien came awake with a disoriented start, only to feel nearly immobilized by pain. He looked down at himself, and saw the jagged piece of metal protruding from his left side, just under his ribs.

“That’s gonna fuck up my whole day,” he pushed himself to an upright position and saw a hand sticking out from underneath a mess of debris next to him. Rolling in that direction, he grunted, and released a few growling shouts of pain, but pushed the debris aside, exposing Amadeo’s open, lifeless gaze.

Lucien’s face twisted; a mixture of grim triumph and the sadness of losing family to the stupidity of their egos. “Mate, asshole,” he whispered to Amadeo then fell back against the partially intact wall.

It was then that Lucien realized something was making noise in his pocket: the communications device. Pulling out the headset, Lucien sucked in a breath and placed it over his ear. “Lucien here. In case you didn’t realize, I blew that shit up.”

“Jesus Christ, Lucien, where have you been!?” Simone’s voice came through. “Are you all right?”

Lucien smiled at the sound of his sister’s voice. “I won, that’s all that matters. Did you take care of you?”

“We did.” Simone’s voice cracked, and Lucien heard her suck in a watery intake of breath. “Where are you, Lucien? I’m sending a team—”

“Don’t bother, sis,” Lucien interrupted, wincing. “I’m done this lifetime.”

“Don’t say that. Goddammit, Lucien, don’t you dare. I’m sending someone—”

“Si, I’m done. It’s cool, kiddo. I went out the way I wanted to. You take care of yourself. I love you. I love V, too. Tell him for me, will yah?”

There was brief silence on the other end of the line, and when Lucien heard his sister’s trembling, tear-filled voice again, it was both soothing and sad. “I love you, too, Lucien. I’m so proud of you.”

Lucien smiled slowly and closed his eyes because his lids were heavy as hell. “As you should be. As… as you should be.” The headset fell from his fingers.

It only took a few seconds more for the pain to stop, and Lucien Terenzio to journey home.

Chapter 23

“I will die to see my will done. And it will be done.”

-Stefano Vasco Terenzio

December 20, 2012 - 11:44 PM

Vacherie, Louisiana

Oak Alley Plantation

It came down in thick heavy sheets, bulleting from the sky, drenching the ground that could only absorb so much before it leaked up from the grass, and quickly became the swamp that was so common in the area. The glare of headlights cut through the rain, illuminating the porch of the antebellum mansion that was now empty.

Caesar climbed out of the car, whistling. He snapped open the trunk and stared with vicious glee down at Vasco, whose hands Caesar had taped behind his back. Caesar reached inside and hauled the other man out, half dragging him through the puddles of water, and shoved him in front of the stairs, facing the house. “I thought you‘d want to see it one more time before you died.”

Vasco’s eyes traveled slowly over the elegant, old fashioned structure. It had once been her home, before she —

His jaw hardened. A lifetime ago, he had made love to her against those columns, often after he’d shot a few people out among the centuries-old oaks. For a fleeting moment, his eyes softened at the phantom images.

“You know, she and I had some good times here after you got popped.” Caesar grinned at his own memories.

Vasco’s eyes narrowed, jealousy and fury coiling hotly in his gut. His fingers fisted around the piece of glass hidden in his palm, that he’d luckily found in the trunk of the car. The sharp edges cut into the tape and his skin, the blood washing away with the force of the rain.

Caesar turned him around so they were facing each other. “I don’t get you, Vasco.” He took a step back, pulling the gun out from the waistband of his pants. “Why? Out of all of them, I never thought you would choose this.”

The hatred in the depths of Vasco’s eyes was unhidden as he regarded Caesar. It was their destiny to be enemies, their agreement for this lifetime. He was fully committed to honoring that agreement. “Choice, Caesar,” Vasco said over the noise of the storm. “I never made anyone do anything. They always had a choice. You—Them—you take the fun out of the game when you take that choice away. But the better, less noble reason is I just don’t like you. Or your masters. I never have.”

Caesar shook his head. “I’ll never understand you Terenzios. I won’t miss you, either.” The thunder growled, a flash of lighting exposing the malevolent gleam in Caesar‘s eyes as he pressed the muzzle of the gun against Vasco’s temple. He should have squeezed the trigger, but Caesar’s motions paused. Over Vasco’s head, standing just to the right of one of the tall columns surrounding the house, he swore he saw— “Cleona?”

The tape cut close. If Cleona’s spirit was standing on that porch, it was for one reason. Vasco didn’t look over his shoulder. He smacked the gun away from his temple and launched himself forward, crashing into Caesar.

Caesar grunted, and the gun fell from his fingers as he landed hard on the gravel. Vasco reared back his fist, slamming it repeatedly into Caesar’s face in blind fury. Blood forming, Caesar released a frustrated sound of pain, grabbed a handful of the muddy earth, and flung it right into Vasco's face. Vasco shouted in fury as the dirt landed in his eyes, blinding him. Caesar took advantage and shoved Vasco off. Scrambling onto his hands and knees, Caesar peered through the darkness, around the blinding glare of the headlights, for his gun. He abandoned his search just in time to see Vasco’s leg come flying. He rose up to his knees, lifting his arms to deflect the kick, and threw Vasco off balance. Vasco stumbled back into the car and Caesar was on him, throwing short, hard punches into Vasco’s ribs, every strike sending a sharp pain rocking through Vasco that took his breath away. Vasco batted away the next jab and punched Caesar right in the throat. When Caesar choked, Vasco stepped into him, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and shoving his knee into his gut, cutting off air again. Relentless, Vasco slammed Caesar’s head into the hood of the car, releasing Caesar to watch him collapse onto the ground, groaning.

Breathing heavily, Vasco jerked his eyes to the ground and saw the handle of the gun sticking up from underneath the right front tire. He moved in that direction, just as a gunshot rang out. Its echoing boom challenged the low rumble of thunder that preceded it, halting Vasco’s motions completely. He looked down, but this time at himself and the stain of red that was soaking up his fatigues. When he snapped his gaze backwards, he saw Kayla emerge from the shadows, stalking towards him with her gun pointed.

“Fuck! Kayla, stand down!” Caesar growled as he clambered to his feet, holding his head with one hand and glaring at her. “You stay the hell out of this, understand?”

Kayla pulled her blank gaze from Vasco and looked over at Caesar. Nodding once, she lowered her weapon.

Vasco had collapsed onto his knees, the strength flowing out of him as steadily as his own blood. Gritting his teeth, fighting against the pull of death, he stared at Caesar just as the man came at him and kicked him right in the face. Blood exploded from his mouth, tangling in the rain as he fell onto his back against the bottom porch step.

Smiling viciously, Caesar grabbed the front of Vasco’s vest, hauling him closer. “I fucked her after you died. Constantly.”

Calm fury stained the lines of Vasco’s face. “And I bet… it really burns that… that the entire time she was thinking of me.”

Caesar’s eyes narrowed to slits, and he slammed his fist with brutal force into Vasco’s face, until his knuckles were an angry red. When he’d had enough, Caesar closed his hands around Vasco’s throat and squeezed. “You didn’t beat me last lifetime, and you won’t beat me this one. How does it feel Terenzio? Huh?” He squeezed tighter. “How does it fucking feel?”

The air was almost cut off immediately when Caesar started choking him. One hand jerked up to grab at Caesar’s wrists, but just to make that movement, Vasco felt like he was lifting an anvil instead of his own arm. No, he thought. No. He would not lose, not like this. Not to him. Vasco’s opposite hand dug into the dirt beside him, searching for something, anything. He almost didn’t believe it when he felt the handle of a knife. The familiarity of its shape he would have known anywhere. The dagger had belonged to Cleona. Spots swam before his eyes, darkness threatening to consume Vasco as he thrust his arm up and slammed the razor sharp point into Caesar’s throat.

Immediately, the grip loosened. Air rushed in, leading to his violent cough that sent more pain ripping through his system. But Vasco kept sucking it in, his grimly triumphant eyes locking with the shocked fury of Caesar’s. Caesar jerked a hand up to touch his neck, and Vasco forced himself into action again, batting Caesars hand away. “Checkmate,” Vasco whispered into Caesar’s face as he ripped the knife out and shoved it into Caesar’s jugular.

Lightening split open the sky and Vasco held onto Caesar until he saw the life drain from Caesar’s eyes. He ripped out the knife a final time and let Caesar’s empty vessel hit the ground. Vasco collapsed back onto the stairs, and clutched the dagger to his chest. His mouth curved subtly as the rain began to slow, and became nothing more than a drizzle. Vasco tipped his bruised face up to it.

Kayla walked slowly towards him with her gun raised again. First, she stared at Caesar. She felt almost relieved that he was dead. That did not change her orders, though. She looked back at Vasco, squeezing the trigger—

“He was your father, Kayla. Marcello. Your biological one,” Vasco said in a quiet, firm voice.

Kayla’s motions halted with her finger curled around the trigger. “No, he wasn’t. My mother was raped she—”

“She was raped. But he didn’t impregnate her. Marcello did. You were theirs, and your father knew it.”

Suddenly, Kayla’s entire world shattered. Came together. Shattered. Tears sprang into her eyes. She swallowed them back and advanced on Vasco, her gun hand steady despite the emotions ripping through her. “You’re lying.”

“No. No.” Vasco slowly shook his head. “Front pocket. Look.”

Kayla hesitated, only for a moment. She bent down and did as he asked, removing a piece of paper that bore the Masonic crest. It was the letter from Deucalion, the man she had always believed to be her real father, to Doctor Mengele, the man with the funny smell that had programmed her into becoming a weapon. Her mouth trembled as she read the words. When she finished, the letter that Marcello had written her, and his request, came floating back into her mind. Suddenly, words she had thought cryptic, now made perfect sense.

Kayla,

Perhaps for a while, I did it for the wrong reasons. Aside from Demetrius, you were the only thing left of my Mari. The words that left your mouth, your mannerisms, were all painfully beautiful reminders of her. I wanted those, I felt like I needed those because I had lost my anchor and there was no one there to pull me back from the edge I had to continually step on to make sure this family was prepared for the next stages of the game.

My want for that connection though, allowed me to get to know you, Kayla, in a way that I doubt would have been possible before. I know how you were made. I know the woman you came from, and I see her inside of you. I see you, when your guard is down and you are not playing your game. I am here to tell you, you are my daughter. I love you, not for the woman you remind me of, but for the woman you are. I love you, for unintentionally keeping your father human. I love you for forcing me to hang onto emotions, no matter how painful, in the hope that I could express to you, what a father truly felt. This family is yours, Kayla. You are a pivotal, deciding factor in this equation. When the moment comes, please, be the Terenzio you are.

You father,

Marcello

“How did he…” Kayla looked over at Vasco. “…how did find out I was his?”

“A hypnosis session, one night while you were sleeping, gave him some clues as to who your first trainer was. Joey and Marcello tracked Mengele down right after your mother died, and it was in Mengele’s house that he found that letter. Mengele confirmed it was true,” Vasco said watching her face. “Your father killed him for what he did to you.”

Kayla sank to her knees, overwhelmed. Her own family. They had turned her against her own family; the parents she’d loved, the father she’d wished was her own, that actually was. She had plotted to destroy everything Marcello had built, and he’d killed the man who had hurt her. Kayla covered her face with her hand, still clutching the letter, and released an agonized sob.

Vasco pressed one hand against his side, canting his head at her, his breath coming in short, wheezing hitches. “You can… you can make it right.”

“No.” Kayla dropped her hand and looked up at him. “No, Vasco, I can’t. It doesn’t matter. None of it does. Not that Caesar’s dead, or that you’ve won. The programming runs too deep, I’d never trust myself.” She pressed her lips together, a decision made. She slid her eyes to her nephew’s and gave him a tremulous smile. “Thank you. Thank you for showing me the truth. For giving me that peace.” She pressed the gun to her temple, and without hesitating, she pulled the trigger.

“Kayla don—” Vasco’s words were too late. Kayla’s body fell on top of Caesar’s, lifeless. Vasco shook his head sadly. “I tried son, I tried,” he whispered into the rain. Setting Cleona’s knife down next to him, he forced his limbs to move again, and reached into his pocket to remove the headset. Once he pulled it out, it took another minute before he could work up the energy to simply place it over his ear. “Base, come in, this is SVT, come in.”

It took mere seconds before he received a response. “Vasco? Oh, thank God.” Simone’s angrily relieved voice came through. “What the fuck is wrong with you, going off radio contact like that?”

Vasco dropped his head back against the step, a faint smile curving over his mouth. “Sorry, I had… a run in with Caesar.”

“How did that go?”

“He’s dead.” Vasco paused, then added, “So is Kayla. She… she killed herself after I told her about… about Marcello.”

There was silence on the other end. “Jesus.” Another pause, and when Simone’s voice came through again, it cracked. “Caleb’s dead. So is Lucien, V. He told me to tell you that he loved you.”

Sadness twisted across Vasco’s face. “Til next lifetime, brother,” he whispered. “Did our SVT Security teams free everyone from the camps?”

“They did it, V. Kicked ass, from what was reported.”

“Good.” Vasco covered the mouthpiece with his hand, sucked in a wheezing breath, then dropped it. “Listen, Simone, I know this is a different lifetime, but history is going to repeat itself.” He could hear his sister crying.

“Goddammit it, Vasco, you can’t do this to me again. I’m not Lil. I can’t do this alone. Not without you, not without Lucien, not without Caleb.”

“You’re not alone, Si. You… you never are. Xavier will be there with you. Alex will always be a friend. You’ve got people… people to lean on when you need it.” Vasco was forced to pause, to take another a breath. “I’m tired, Si. My soul is tried.”

Because of the length of the silence on the other end, Vasco worried that Simone might have shot the radio communication in a moment of fury. Finally, her voice came through again. “I love you, Vasco.”

“I love you, too. You were meant to lead this family. Do us proud.” He held the device against his chest, and then brought it back up quickly. “And Si?”

“Yeah, V?”

“Mate to us.” A classic, arrogant smirk curled over Vasco’s mouth. He pulled the headset off, dropping it to the ground. That’s when he saw it; movement on that old porch. Her. Come to take him home.

At the stroke of midnight, when the Sun and planet Earth aligned with the center of the galaxy, the last emotion that consumed Vasco Terenzio was love.

December 21st, 2012

12:12 AM

What goes here, is up to you.

Begin Transmission…

Can you hear me? Oh, Jesus, they’re coming. Listen, they’re fucking with time. If you’re hearing this it means I failed, but so long as the technology exists, we can go back and fix it. You can go back and fix it. Don’t let them erase everything my family fought to uphold. You make sure the Ascension happens. Please. Oh, God here they come. I’ve got to hide—

About the Author

DCS lives in New Orleans, Louisiana, and has joint custody of a Siberian Husky named Angelus. A radio show host as well as an author, you can hear DCS every Saturday night at 8 pm Central Standard Time on BlogTalkRadio’s Paranormal 101. DCS is currently studying to get her PhD in Metaphysical Spirituality at the American Institute of Holistic Theology. She is also working on the next two novels in the Synarchy series: Book 3: SVT which she intends to be a graphic novel, and Book 4: The Black Widow.

To role play with the characters from the first two novels visit the following website:

www.commandcenter.synarchy2012.com. To learn more about the author, visit her blog page at: www.themindofdcs.com and the www.theworldofdcs.com coming soon.