Redemption (The Alliance Series Book 1) (19 page)

              All in all the drive was rather pleasant. We made good time.

              Only twice did Nathan have to shield us from the police. We didn't talk much, each of us lost to our own thoughts. I kept getting in a better and better mood.

              It was weird actually. The Col. was resourceful and had always been the kind of person who could make a bad situation better, but I really didn't know what he could do to help me.

              For some reason that didn't matter, all that mattered was getting to the sawmill so I could talk to him. By the time we reached the outskirts of Chesterfield I was full of positive energy and optimism.

              I sat and watched the scenery as Nathan drove us through town towards the river. The sawmill was still abandoned. It was located right on the edge of the water. Modern transportation ships and trains had pushed most sawmills out of business. Companies had moved their operations inland, where the cost of processing lumber was much cheaper. Many towns tried to keep on to their old sawmills in an effort to keep in touch with their historical nature. They usually became a pet project for some restoration society or local museum.

              This one had been shut down for a while.

              There was some construction equipment on the site. One of the exterior walls had scaffolding set up as the crews were getting the building ready to open as a tourist attraction. You'd be surprised how interested people are in sawmills.              

There was a sign on the front of the building that read Chesterfield Lumber Inc. Half of the lettering already had a bright new coat of red paint as it was clearly being repainted.

              We drove to the side of the building, off the main road. Nathan and I got out and looked around. It was around mid-day. The sun was almost as high as it would go, following a path that had been established eons ago. The sky was clear blue. A few high clouds lazily drifted on a mild breeze.

              We walked up and entered the side door that the employees used. Closing it behind us, I looked around at the room we were in, thirty feet by twenty at the most. There were lockers along the right and left sides of the room and most of the opposite wall. Where the lockers ended was an opening for a door that led back into the mill.

              This was a break room where lunches were eaten and breaks taken. Someone had removed the tables that had clearly been in the middle of the room. Now it was empty, our footfalls making slight echoes as we took a few steps in and stopped.

              "Col.?" I asked.

              The door opposite us opened and the first thing I saw were black shoes with a mirror finish. Simmons? How the hell did he get here? I thought.               Never mind. Doesn't matter, this time he is going to die. I instinctively reached down and pulled out the Desert Eagle. It was a powerful and beautiful gun. The only thing anyone has ever gotten me. The Col. sent it in the mail a few years ago for my birthday.

              I don't know how he managed that.

              There was a small note in the box along with two clips. The note said "Happy B-day. Col. West." That's it. He had never acknowledged my birthdays before this, but I was just thrilled to get it. It was gun metal blue with ivory handles. There was an eagle in flight inlaid on the grip. A deep scarlet gem was in place where the eagles’ eye was. It always seemed to catch the light whenever I pulled it out.

              I raised the hand cannon into position immediately lining up the shot with Simmons forehead without even thinking about it, I began to pull the trigger for the kill shot when a voice that brokered no argument, full of command and laced with undeniable will ordered, “STOP!”

              I stopped, it wasn't a choice. I mean I tried to keep pulling the trigger. I couldn't. I couldn't move at all. I tried to bring my arm down or move my leg and it was if every muscle in my body was frozen. I could still think clearly. I could still see and hear everything. My chest rose and fell in an easy rhythm, breathing. I just couldn't do anything else.

              Simmons started smiling; a small smile that gradually stretched into what reminded me of a shark’s grin. He easily could have nullified the magic being used to restrain us, but he had to concentrate to do so. It seemed he liked to see us vulnerable.

              I heard a few steps as someone came fully into the room. The sound of hard-soled shoes filled the space as Col. West slowly stepped into the spot that Simmons had previously occupied, lining himself up with my Desert Eagle’s sights.

              My mind was racing. He looked the same as I remembered him, above average height with eyes full of awareness and intelligence. His hair might have added more white above his ears but his military cut was still perfectly trimmed. He wore a politician’s suit, dark blue with a power red tie. He looked at me with a small knowing smile.

              "I bet you'd like to know what the hell is going on wouldn't you Captain?" He asked.

              I wanted to answer but I was still immobile. It suddenly dawned on me, the Col. was an Influencer!

              He had to be. Only the strongest ones could actually stop people from moving. They still couldn't make them do menial tasks but they could stop them from moving. It's hard to do, you have to continuously concentrate on it for it to work or else those under your hold can work their way free.

              The Col. had full control of both Nathan and me! He didn't even look like he was straining at all. Things started to fall into place, horrible realizations and dawning horror fell over me.

              "Ahh, I see you’re starting to figure it out. Good, it's nice to know you can still use your brain even after all the workings I have done on you." He said.

              The Col. took a few steps across the room, pacing.

              "Don’t worry about your friend, John. The Lt. is fine. He is as immobile as you are. It feels good to really let loose once in a while. I am always so limited on what I can do; it is hard to hide my level of control. I have had to keep up the facade that I had no real powers, that I was an average person. The only people who know about this are in this room and I have no intention of letting you two tell anyone." He said as he walked back the other way.

              Simmons just stood there grinning maniacally. The Col. turned to him and said, "Go get the helicopter ready to takeoff, I’ll be done here shortly and then we will expedite our departure."              

              Simmons looked at the Col. with something like disappointment in his eyes. He quickly hid it, nodded his head and said. "Yes sir."

              He quickly walked out of the room leaving the three of us alone.

              "I wonder how much you have pieced together. It is liberating really. I have been working for years in secret for this moment. I have not been able to enlighten anyone to the truth of what was going on. I know your dying for an explanation; I can see it in your eyes."

              "You probably have put most of it together, but I'm absolutely positive you don't know everything. I have pondered how much I will tell you. I have decided that your exemplary service has rewarded you with the reasons. I figure it's the least I can do before I kill you."

              "I know it's cliché telling you my scheme, but I have kept this all to myself for years. Where do I begin?" He asked once again stopping directly in the line of fire.

              I tried to move, it was no use. No matter how hard I struggled, I could not make myself twitch.

              The knowledge that the Col. was somehow involved in all this and was an Influencer was devastating. I put it aside for now, listening and trying to find some way to get out of this.

              "I guess it all started when I took you from your home. The idea was to create a controlled soldier. Yes, we have good soldiers but not wizards. Wizards are hard to control. They have always seemed to operate on their own, never easy to contain."

              "The idea was to bring them into the military. Try to get them bonded and disciplined. Have them as well controlled as normal soldiers. When we brought in some adult wizards, we found they had too much power to control. Either they helped us when we asked, or they would refuse. They could defy us with their magic. We couldn't allow that."

              "Who are
we
? You might be asking. Men like me. A coalition of the willing, you might say, soldiers and patriots from around the world who are tired of the meddling of wizards. I know it seems hypocritical of me, but what can I say? I am complex. Besides, if I can't control wizards, I will eliminate them."

              "I was well known for training men to obey without hesitation. No one knew I was an Influencer. They believed I was that good. Then we found you. We decided to see if we could get a child wizard, someone who had abilities but was unspoiled. Someone I could mold and shape as I saw fit. Therefore, I influenced you. Made you feel as though I cared, made you feel the same about me. I established a father-son bond. Then I trained you to kill. You were perfect. You did what we said, killed whom we said. Then you started to deviate from the path. Maybe it was in your blood? You started having a hard time working for us. When you wanted more independence we let you go freelance. Allowing you more freedom as long as you kept taking the jobs we gave you. However, it was becoming clear that you were not the answer to our problems. I tried, I really did. I influenced you for years, trying to get you back in line. Nevertheless, it was no use. Maybe you built up an immunity?"

              "So we changed our focus. If we could not control wizards, then we would create men with wizard-like abilities that we could control. It started years ago. Cobbling together scientists and procuring the monies needed for such a venture. It took me years to get into the right politicians heads. Getting them to channel money to the places I needed it."

              "We established research facilities and began our project. We kept having snags, however. Always problems, at first we thought it was coincidence, and then we noticed a pattern. Someone kept leaking information, sometimes about camps we were building, others about monies that were disappearing."              

“Some of this information kept getting funneled into the press. Although they were never able to prove anything, it hampered us. We were slowed, constantly changing locations or having to come up with better ways to hide what we were doing."

              "Finally, we were able to track the informants to a small time organization, a few of them actually. They all led to two large charitable nonprofits headed up by Peotr Stragnoff. It seemed he had found out about us and was trying to undermine our goals. Every attempt at getting at him failed. Somehow, he was able to hide from us. It was odd; every time we got close to him, we would lose him. We found out about his stronghold in Colorado, but were unable to locate it. It was maddening!"

              "We began digging up information on him, trying to find some way to get to him. That is where you came in. It was a stroke of luck really. One of our researchers had seen your name on a vacation form we have all our men fill out. It showed you had gone to Colorado to visit with none other than Peotr himself not a few years back! You knew where he was. I knew you wouldn't give up the location and I couldn't wait for you to visit again."

              "I had to do something, so I sent you that pistol you are holding right now. It was ingenious really. The weapon was very expensive, but the real value is in that gem in the eagle’s eye. Do you know what that is? I really out did myself on that. It's a tracker gem; it allowed me to follow your movements, which was how Simmons was able to find you so easily."

              "We still had to get you on the right path. We found out that we had a scientist sending information about some of the research she was doing to Peotr’s organization and decided we had to rid ourselves of her. She had stumbled onto Project Frankenstein and tried to use it to ensure her safety. Can you believe that? What nerve! She had no idea who she was dealing with."

              "That’s when we sent you in with orders to kill, and then gather information. If you did what you were told, you would have killed her and her daughter for us then stumbled on the footage of Frankenstein. Activating the influencing I had placed on you to come and seek me out for help. I would have just had you go straight to Stragnoff, but I was not sure how he was avoiding us and did not want him becoming aware we were sending you. Instead you allowed the mother and daughter to go free."

              "That damned dragon almost ruined it all when he found out Chen had stolen from him. He went off in a rage. You know how dragons are when

it comes to their property. I should have seen that coming."

              "You were resourceful as ever though, but predictable. You acted just as I suspected."

              "What I did to the Major was special. I influenced him to be suspicious of you. He already hated the way you people called him Sarge behind his back and it took a surprising little amount of effort to push him into arresting you. I knew the influencing I placed on you was strong, but I don't think I needed it to have you flee from being arrested."