Halon-Seven (20 page)

Defying explanation, the two chunks of J-189D were linked at some unknown level. As illogical and unlikely as the strange link between the two fragments was, they were able to prove the connection, if not immediately explain it.

The discovery of the meteorite had proven to be truly extraordinary. But the experience was the start of a long and close collaboration between the head of Team Two, Rumsfeld Pellagrin, and the head of Team One, Albert Einstein—sometimes known by his unlikely nickname, Big Al Jones. Pellagrin would go on to develop his life’s work,
Silent River
, based on what he learned from J-189D. Einstein applied his observations of J-189D and became the father of theoretical physics.

Berton Springs, Colorado

Wednesday, 3:40 pm, Present Day

Using the teleporter, Cyrus and Reese made several trips from the house in Colorado. The first was to collect some of Reese’s electrical engineering hardware from the group’s office in Santa Barbara. Cyrus was adamant that they take anything they might need from the office because they wouldn’t be returning. That facility was public facing and listed on the web and in the phone book. It was therefore their most vulnerable location.

The second trip was to gather groceries and provisions. They would be using the Colorado house as a base of operations and needed to stock up accordingly. Walter Meade had been meticulous when it came to keeping his home’s location private, so it had remained a secure location. And, given their easy access to the platforms and the resulting ability to teleport to locations all over the country, they were afforded a unique disregard for geography. They would leverage that. The Colorado house would be their safe haven.

The third trip was back to Reese’s apartment. Since it was an active crime scene, they needed to take precautions. Not wanting to teleport into the middle of a room full of forensic technicians, Cyrus opted to first phone Detective Franklin. He said that he and Reese would be stopping by the apartment to pick up a few things and asked if it would be alright. Franklin said this was fine, but he wanted to arrange for an officer to meet them. Since it was still a crime scene, the officer would log everything they removed. Cyrus explained that he and Reese were only a few blocks from the apartment and asked if it would be possible to meet someone there now. Franklin told him that no one was at the apartment at the moment. His people had cleared out several hours prior. Cyrus arranged to meet a police officer at the apartment door at 5:00 pm. He had no intention of attending the meeting. He knew Franklin would find the call suspicious if he didn’t schedule an appointment after asking questions, so he had to go through the motions.

The trip to Reese’s was quick. They were careful to touch only what they needed, and they were in and out in less than ten minutes. Cyrus watched the front door while Reese made short work of packing what essentials she required. Taking too much would draw suspicion from the investigating officers. Plus, items such as toiletries, soaps, and shampoos had already been covered by the grocery run earlier.

That left them with one trip remaining. And Cyrus wasn’t excited about going home. Still, he had gear back at his Chicago apartment that he couldn’t do without. When he’d packed the truck and driven out to Colorado, he’d done so on a whim and to satisfy his curiosity. Cyrus had understood the property was his, free and clear. Allan Underwood was very clear on that point. But he’d had no idea what to expect. With the long drive west to consider the many questions he had regarding Walter Meade, Cyrus had never seriously considered moving to Nowhere, Colorado. He had only stuffed the essentials into a single duffle and hit the road.

Now he was planning a trip back home to collect more of his belongings. It wasn’t the journey that fueled his reluctance. Reese had checked the database and confirmed his suspicion. Meade did, in fact, have a teleportation site in Chicago. Meade was using the platforms to make short work of the trip between Colorado and Chicago. And while the trip back home would be easy, Cyrus had concern for what he might find there.

“One more trip and we can call it a day?” Reese asked as they walked single file into the spare bedroom of the Colorado house.

“It’s been a long twenty-four hours,” he agreed.

She pulled out her phone and tapped a few buttons on the display. “When we get back, I need to make a couple of changes to your phone. That way you can operate the platforms yourself.” She showed him what she was doing. Launching an app, she entered a PIN to gain access. From there she could select a teleport destination from the list, or search a database of locations. The options were displayed in various formats, allowing her to sort by state, country, or search by keyword. All in all, it was extremely user-friendly.

“That’s odd,” she said squinting at the screen of her phone. “The destination in Chicago is listed only as
Chicago
. Normally there’s an exact address and additional info about the site so we know where we’ll be landing. This doesn’t have any info at all. It just says Chicago.”

Cyrus smiled, mostly to himself. “Yeah. I have a theory about that. Give it a shot. Let’s find out if I’m right.”

She looked at him with curiosity, but stepped aside allowing him up on the platform first this time. He stepped aboard and noticed her looking at him in surprise. She’d just realized that he had a gun in his hand. He did a quick press-check, ensuring there was a round in the chamber before lowering the gun to his side.

“Sorry,” he smiled. “Just playing it safe. I have a guess about where we’re landing, but I’m still not comfortable teleporting in blind. Not when there are people after us.”

“Fair enough.” She stepped up onto the pad, toe to toe with him and tapped the last few keystrokes on her phone, initiating the five-second countdown.

It’s funny
, Cyrus realized. They had teleported together several times in the last 24 hours. At first the experience seemed alien, but it was already becoming routine. Standing this close to Reese, though, was another matter. He felt the same tingling flutter every time she stepped near. In fact, the feeling had grown stronger with time. Then again, it could’ve had something to do with the way she now stood even closer than she had before. He could feel the heat coming off her body… He could feel the faintest touch of her breasts against his chest as she swayed slightly on her feet. And he could feel her breath on his chin.

There was a flash of light, and the journey was complete. And before Cyrus knew what had happened, he had pulled Reese up into his arms, drawing closer still as she kissed him deeply. He wasn’t sure who had initiated it. Maybe it was better that way. She’d invoked so many feelings since their first meeting. He’d been sure she had feelings for him as well. In many ways, the kiss confirmed things he already knew. It made them tangible and real. There was something here, something they both wanted to explore.

“Wow,” was all he could say when their lips finally parted.

Reese pale skin was pink. Her eyes fluttered, and she took a deep breath. “Wow, is right,” she smiled shyly.

They both stood still for long moments, still holding each other close. Cyrus had the sense that he was supposed to be doing something, but it was several seconds before he finally snapped out of the trace like state and looked around. He still had the gun in hand. They were standing in an unfurnished apartment. In the living room. He laughed and slid the gun into the holster at the small of his back.

“Where are we?” Reese asked. She had finally recovered as well.

Cyrus led her by the hand along a short hallway to the front door of the apartment. As they walked through the place, his suspicions were confirmed. The apartment was completely empty. Meade must’ve used the apartment strictly to house the platform. When he reached the front door, he pulled it open and looked at the number stenciled on it. Number 9-12. He could only shake his head.

Reese didn’t understand. “What is it?”

“That sneaky son-of-a-bitch! My apartment is one floor up, directly above this unit. I’m in 10-12!”

There was a pregnant pause, then they both burst out laughing. It was just like Walter Meade to do something cagey and divisive. It was simple, practical, and efficient. And at that moment they found it downright hysterical.

—————

After walking the
halls and checking the stairwells as well as both elevators, Cyrus was relieved to find no surveillance set up on his apartment. Still, as they reached the front door he pulled his sidearm. Slowly and quietly, he unlocked the door. He pushed through the doorway with the gun held high. The interior of the home was well lit, with ambient light shining through the windows of his office to the left and the windows of the living room at the end of the hallway, directly ahead. Sticking his head into the office, he found it clear. Likewise he checked the kitchen as they passed it on the right and his bedroom on the left. The living room was last, but everything was just as he’d left it. He turned back to Reese, who was waiting anxiously at the door, and waved her in. It felt overly dramatic, but the way things were he couldn’t be too careful.

Cyrus pulled an empty backpack from the hall closet and handed it to Reese. “See if there’s anything worth taking in the kitchen. I don’t plan on coming back anytime soon.” He thought for a moment. “Same goes for the rest of the place. If you see something we might need, grab it. I’ll gather my clothes. Aside from that, most of what I need is in my office.”

She headed for the kitchen while he ducked into the bedroom. He pulled another large duffle from the closet and started emptying the contents of the dresser drawers and stuffing the hanging contents of the closet into the bag. Finally, he looked around. The rest could wait. They had a lot to do, and needed to get moving. He pulled his last oversized duffle from the top shelf of the closet and took it and the overstuffed bag down the hall.

When he walked into his office, Reese was already there. She was looking at the patchwork of notes and photos tacked across the back wall. She heard him enter but didn’t turn and didn’t say anything. She was clearly intrigued by what she saw. The information stuck to the wall was a mishmash of seemingly random bits of information with little in common. But even the haphazard scraps and clippings had the ability to capture one’s attention. Images of burned out cars, surveillance photos shot through restaurant windows, bank statements, and photocopies of receipts. Each one a disparate piece of information relating to a story he was developing.

“This is research?” she finally asked.

“Yes.”

“All for one story?”

“No. What you’re looking at covers three different pieces. Nothing researched well enough to write yet. Getting the facts takes time. It’s slow going. So rather than twist in the wind on one story, I try to keep a couple going at the same time.”

She looked over her shoulder, concern etched in features. “I’ve read some of your stories. You’re telling me you work a couple of those at a time?”

He nodded. “When I can. I bore easily, and I have a hard time sitting still.”

“It must take incredible concentration.”

He shook his head. “Not really. I live a simple life. There isn’t anything to distract me.”

She looked like she had something she wanted to say but was considering keeping it to herself. Rather than pry, Cyrus left her to think for a few minutes. He went over to the desk and pulled several empty file folders out of a drawer. Pulling the research material down from the corkboard, he placed each case’s information into a separate folder. Next, he started pulling additional files out of the desk and packing those as well.

Reese walked slowly around the perimeter of the room. She was still agonizing over something. “What’s wrong?” he finally asked.

She faced him from across the room, but didn’t make eye contact. It was unusual for her. He liked how she seemed to prefer looking him in the eye. In his experience, it was a surprisingly rare quality in people.

“I guess I wanted to ask…” she trailed off. She wanted to ask something but he didn’t know what it was. He wasn’t going to push.

“I wanted to ask you if you are seeing anyone.” She pushed out with some effort. “At first, I didn’t think that would be an issue, but after…you know... I guess it just has me rethinking things a little.”

“No,” he smiled. He was relieved that it was something so simple. “Not seeing anyone. Haven’t had anyone special for some time, actually.” Wow. Had he just said that? It wasn’t something he was comfortable talking about. But somehow admitting it to her just seemed right. The words just popped out.

But she still seemed uncomfortable. His answer should have alleviated her concern. Did that mean that she
was
seeing someone? Was that what she was trying to say? Then it clicked. He understood. He followed her eyes to where she was looking at a photo on the end of the bookshelf across the room.

“Ah, yeah. That…” He left his packing behind the desk and walked slowly across the room to stand beside Reese. He took her by the hand and walked her over to the bookshelf. “Her name was Natasha,” he said quietly, almost to himself. “She’s been gone…” he had to stop and think. “Going on six years now.”

Her eyes rose to meet his. She still held his hand. “You were close.” It was a statement, not a question. That wasn’t obvious by the photo. He just wasn’t doing a good job of hiding it. Talking about Natasha was still difficult and it felt clumbsy.

“Very close,” he admitted. “And it was complicated.” He laughed thinking about it. That was a first. He had never laughed at the idea before. Complicated was an understatement. “We were young. I was working a job in Europe at the time. We met under…unusual circumstances, I suppose you could say. I guess I knew all along it wasn’t meant to be. I just wasn’t willing to believe it.”

“What happened?”

He watched her eyes. She was sincere. She really wanted to know. There was genuine concern there. “She died,” Cyrus said quietly. There was a long silence. He shrugged. “Some things really aren’t meant to be.”