The Defender (The Carrier Series Book 2) (22 page)

“Morning, sleepy. So are you coming down here or what?”

“Down where?”

“You said you’d meet me down at The Court Restaurant for
breakfast! Did you just wake up?”

“Yeah. What time is it?” I looked around the room for a clock.

“8:30. Hurry up! The eggs are getting cold and soon all the
blood sausage will be gone!”

“Oh, what a tragedy,” I said facetiously. “Just make sure there
is a cup of coffee left for me.” I hung up, changed clothes, and brushed my
teeth. Then I grabbed the leather journal and my tablet on the way out.

There weren’t many people in the restaurant. Drew was sitting at
a table by the window eating from a full plate. “Morning,” he greeted me with
his mouthful.

I sat down and took out my tablet to check over my notes from
the night before. It took me a second to notice the other plate and steaming
coffee cup next to Drew. “Who’s sitting there?” I pointed to the mysterious
guest’s chair.

“Well—” Drew smiled as I heard a female voice behind me.

“Agent Hill. Good morning.” Darcy walked around the table and
took her place next to Drew.

Drew. That sneak.

“Agent McCombe? What are you doing here?”

“I talked Kane into letting me chaperone you two fools.” She
picked up her fork and popped a piece of sausage in her mouth.

“What? Look, we don’t need—”

But Drew interrupted, his eyes wide, eyebrows high. “Ah ah ah,
Nolan! Of course we could use the IIA’s help.” He gave a pleading look.

Of course Drew wanted Darcy with us. Something told me perhaps
we shouldn’t allow her on this quest, but Drew was practically begging. “Fine,”
I allowed, pointing an empty fork at her, “but you better be helpful.”

“Nolan!” Drew shamed me.

Darcy put a hand on Drew’s arm to calm him. “I’ll be nothing but
helpful. Now, fill me in on what’s new. Drew tells me you were able to find an
important journal?”

I placed the leather-bound book on the table. Darcy picked it up
and flipped quickly through the pages, unable to hide her excitement.

“The journal belonged to Dr. Alec Ó Meidhir, Myers’s
grandfather,” I said. “He was a doctor in Killarney from 1923-1933.”

Drew continued the story where I left off. “During this time he
began to see bizarre symptoms in his patients—momentarily painful, intense
headaches, wild mood changes, severe pain behind the eyes, memory loss, and
abnormal lethargy.”

“Interesting. Does the journal mention what he suspects are the
causes of these symptoms?” Darcy set the book back down on the table. She
apparently would rather hear the abridged version from us.

I began to recount what I had read the night before. “The
entries at the beginning of the journal seem to have no hypotheses, but rather
a list of symptoms for each patient he saw. In the middle of his writing, Dr.
Alec began expressing his theories on DNA, genetics, and mutations, often
referring to some type of family symbol passed down through the years.”

“Family symbol?”

Drew continued our findings. “He calls it a replicator, but
there’s not much of an explanation. What we found the most interesting were the
pages near the end of the journal where he mentions that he, himself, was
suffering from the same symptoms as his patients.”

“I see,” Darcy commented. “Do we know how he died?”

“We can only guess his death had something to do with these
strange symptoms. Dr. Ó Meidhir noted that several of his patients died while
he was treating them.” I looked around the room. It suddenly dawned on me that
perhaps this wasn’t the best place to discuss our findings.

Drew must have read my mind because he lowered his voice and
leaned into the table a little. “Near the end of the doctor’s journal, he
begins to refer to the patient’s disease as
Caducuspetra Morbus
. It
sounds like Latin to me.” He looked at Darcy, “Do you have any idea what that
might be translated to?”

“It sounds—” she thought for a moment. “—something like—”

“Fallen rock disease,” she and I said in tandem.

Drew looked at me quizzically. “I know Latin, too,” I reminded
him.

Darcy scrunched up her eyebrows and took a sip from her coffee
cup. “Fallen rock disease. Would that make sense?”

“Actually that makes perfect sense.” I typed into my tablet,
feeling satisfied.

“The meteor shower of 1901.” Drew thought outloud. “Those suffering
from
Caducuspetra Morbus
must have been keeping meteors in their homes.”

Darcy put her two cents in. “I’d be willing to make a bet that
Dr. Ó Meidhir had one of those rocks in his possession. He must have been
suffering from
Caducuspetra
himself.”

“He did! I found one in his secret office yesterday.” Something
didn’t make sense to me. “But if the doctor knew what was causing the disease,
why would he keep the rock in his house?”

“That is a good question.” Darcy picked up her coffee cup and
let the sides warm her fingers as she searched for a reason.

“Maybe he was already infected and didn’t care.” Drew pointed a
finger at me. “Didn’t you say Ava’s symptoms didn’t start showing until she had
been exposed to the rock almost twenty years, anyway?”

“Ava?” Darcy asked.

Drew looked at Darcy, “Nolan’s girlfriend. The one I was telling
you about last night.”

Last night? Drew had stayed up with me reading the journal for a
while, but then retired to his room where I had thought he was going to get
some sleep.

“Oh, right,” Darcy replied.

“Would it be possible that Dr. Ó Meidhir’s family kept a rock in
their house when he was growing up? What do we know about Alec’s parents?”

Darcy took out her tablet from her purse. “The IIA knows that
Dr. Ó Meidhir grew up in Cornwall, England. He moved to Ireland in 1916 when
his father, Declan, died at age thirty-eight.”

“Okay! Now we’re getting somewhere!” Drew commented.

We all sat back with satisfaction on our faces. But my smile
faded as it dawned on me—what actually had we discovered? Were we at all closer
to figuring out Myers’s agenda?

“Wait. How does this all help us?” I questioned.

Drew stared into his coffee cup and Darcy looked out the window,
both apparently deep in thought.
Their silence is bad news
, my brain
explained.

“Myers sent someone to block us from getting information from
Eneclann. If he knew we were here I bet he’d have someone shooting bullets at
our heads to keep us away from this journal. There has to be a reason Myers
doesn’t want us to find this information.” Drew joined Darcy’s gaze out the
window. “There has to be something in here that is linked to what he is doing
now.”

“Or maybe he wanted you to find the journal,” Darcy suggested.
“Perhaps he couldn’t get to it himself.”

I let out a loud sigh and picked the book up off the middle of
the table. If that was the truth, then I couldn’t let it out of my sight. I
thumbed through it quickly and landed on a random page near the back. I read
the entry. The doctor was writing on his theory of gene mutation caused by
Caducuspetra
Morbus
. Darcy and Drew had begun conversing quietly but I ignored them,
reading the journal page.

“Hey guys. Listen to this.” They stopped talking as I read
quietly from the page.

Nearly twenty percent of Killarney now suffer from Caducuspetra
Morbus. Several members have become violent threats to the community and two
more were arrested this week. They will all find death unless I discover a
treatment for this malignant disease. Through my research I have come to the
hypothesis that the cure lies within the DNA of the affected.

Drew cut me off. “That’s it, Nolan! The cure lies within the DNA
of the affected. Myers needs the DNA of the people who suffer from fallen rock
disease.”

I excitedly turned the page to continue reading, but the next
page was blank.

“Are there no more entries?” Darcy asked as I flipped through
the rest of the journal.

“None,” I said, disappointed. “The rest of the book is blank.”

Drew took a sip of coffee. “I wonder if he died right after he
wrote that last entry.”

Feeling like we had hit another dead end, we all let out a slow
breath and continued picking at our breakfast.

Drew offered to continue the investigation. “What do we know
about Myers’s parents? Are they still alive? If his grandfather was onto something,
don’t you think his father might have continued his research?”

“It’s worth a try. I’m going up to my room to call Agent Bowman.
Maybe it’s about time we head back to the US.” With the joyful prospects of
returning home in my heart, I stood up, holding tight to the journal.

Drew held his hand up to caution me. “That sounds great,
buckaroo, except it’s the middle of the night back home right now. You better
sit your butt back down and finish your breakfast before you call the big
boss.”

He was right. As much as I wanted to move forward with what we
had discovered, I knew Agent Bowman would not appreciate a call at 3:30 a.m. So
I lowered myself back into the chair, and wondered what Ava would be doing
today.

*     *
    *     *

At noon it was seven in the morning in Wisconsin. I dialed the
agency’s number, went through the proper protocol, and finally got Agent Bowman
on the phone.

“Greetings, Agent Hill. I assume you have a good reason for
calling so early?”

“Yes, sir. We’ve made a wonderful finding.” I explained the
journal and our discovery of
Caducuspetra Morbus
.   

“This sounds like an encouraging advance in this mission. I
congratulate you and Agent Smith.”

“Thank you, sir. Please advise our next step.” I paced across
the hotel room.

“Intel suggests Myers is still hiding somewhere out of reach of
our surveillance. However, we have reason to believe he is not an immediate
threat to Ava at this time. I must warn you, however, that Miss Gardner
wouldn’t be too hard to find when he wants to. We are watching her carefully,
of course, but our office is sure Myers needs her alive at this point.”

My stomach felt uneasy.
Was she really safe at school?

“What else can we do to discover what Myers’s agenda is?”

There was a short pause, and I thought I had heard a pencil
tapping on the desk. “I’ve been debating. Yes, I’d like you and Agent Smith to
head over to St. Ives, Cornwall.”

I wasn’t going home? A wave of disappointment and then confusion
washed over me.

“Cornwall, sir?”

“Yes, Cornwall. The westernmost part of the southwest peninsula
of England. Just across the channel from your location right now. Myers’s
great-grandparents lived in Cornwall, and I believe it might be worth a trip
abroad. Discover everything you can about Charlotte and Declan Mayers—who they
were, where they lived, and what they did. Any
miniscule
factoid could help.”

It sounded like the FBI had little idea how to put a stop to
Myers. Any little thing about Myers’s great grandparents could help? To me that
was code for, “We have no idea where to go from here. We’re screwed.”

Saturday, October 25th

Agent Kane tasked Darcy back to Dublin for another assignment,
so Drew and I flew alone in a tiny private plane the FBI had chartered for us.
After the two hour flight over the Celtic Sea, we landed on an airstrip in
Land’s End that was usually reserved for scenic day trips and aerial
photography.

A man driving a black Mercedes Benz, most likely rented by the
agency, picked us up from the airport and took us along a tiny two-lane road
called the B3306 north toward St. Ives. The GPS on Drew’s tablet said the trip
was only sixteen miles but would take thirty-one minutes.

The rural, winding roads led us through tiny Cornish villages,
around scenic English farms, and alongside the enormous, blue Celtic Sea. The
view was just as breathtaking as the Irish countryside, and I felt myself
longing for Ava again.

“Only a few more days,” Drew said, watching me stare out the
window.

“I know. I just hope she—” But I couldn’t bring myself to finish
my sentence. I wanted to say that I hoped she hadn’t forgotten about me, but
the truth was she had already forgotten about me. She had no idea who I was.
Would I ever be able to slip that diamond ring on her finger and keep her by my
side forever? I exhaled loudly, trying to force some of the discomfort out of
my heart.

Drew slapped a hand on my knee and squeezed for a quick second.
“Board up, surfer. Let’s focus on the info Bowman needs, and get the heck out
of this place as soon as we can.” He let that settle for a moment, and then it
was Drew’s turn to stare out the window, eyes far away, dreaming of a girl just
out of reach.

The driver drove us into the coastal city of St. Ives and Drew
and I quickly realized we were in English paradise. Colorful fishing boats
stood waiting in the harbor, the bright blue sea standing as a backdrop. I was
surprised to see beautiful white sand beaches, bordered by cobblestone
walkways.

Later that afternoon, I made a call to Adam as I sat on the
patio of our suite at the Blue Hayes Hotel.

“She seems to be adjusting adequately, Nolan. Ava’s brain is
able to memorize new information and her blackouts are not increasing in
number. She’s coping incredibly well for someone who is oblivious to the trauma
she’s been through.”

“That’s good to hear. I am worried about her, you know.” I stood
looking at the view from the balcony. It was incredible. “Do you truly think
you may be able to reverse the operation?”

He paused a little longer than I’d wanted to hear. “Nolan, let’s
just be thankful Ava is progressing unbelievably well at this point. Oh, and
her academics are outstanding!”

“Great,” I replied with little enthusiasm. I disliked the joy I
heard in Adam’s voice. Why did he get to celebrate with my girl while I was
stuck here searching for something that seemed impossible? But on the other
hand, I was truly proud of Ava if she was focusing on her grades and working
towards getting off academic probation.

“Bowman suggested I upload a program his techs developed onto
Ava’s computer.” Then his voice changed like he was thinking out loud. “It’ll
allow us to search her files remotely.”

“What are you searching her for?” I asked.

Adam ignored me and kept talking as if he was talking to
himself. “Problem is I have to transmit the program from my cell phone to her
computer, and can’t be more than half a foot away. I’ll have to get her to take
me into her bedroom tonight.”

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing, nothing. I’m just working out the details. Anyway, I
gotta go. Have a nice afternoon.” Then he hung up before I could return the
salutation.

Drew closed the door to the hotel room and walked through the
living room. “And you said snooping my nose around was rude. I just hooked us
up, my friend!”

“What are you talking about?”

Drew walked out onto the patio and continued. “The concierge
downstairs has incredibly gorgeous legs, and she was stupendously helpful as
well.” That sly dog took a seat on the lounge chair on the balcony next to me,
stretched out his legs, and placed his hands behind his head. “She’s a local,
and her father is the president of the Cornish National Historical Society, St.
Ives District.” Then he put on a British accent. “I somehow got us invited over
for tea and crumpets in a few hours!”

“Get out! How do you do it?”

“A little charm, my friend, a little charm.” Drew leaned back in
the chair, closed his eyes, and laughed.

“But over to their house? Seriously?”

“The Cornish are incredibly hospitable, Nolan! Don’t you know
anything?” I might have been offended had it not been for the smile on Drew’s
face. “I gave the Mayers name and the little lady’s father is going to dig into
his collection of books at his office to share with us.”

“Unbelievable.” I smiled as I shook my head.

Drew grabbed his guitar from behind the chair and worked for a
while on a lyric about a girl with legs a mile high. I closed my eyes and
listened, soaking up the sunshine on my face.

*     *
    *     *

A few hours later our driver took us up Bedford Road, which,
like all the other streets we had traveled through, was merely feet from the
row houses on either side. The farther from the beach we moved out, the more
claustrophobic I felt. The roads went every which way, darting around
storefronts and houses. The driver took no caution as he sped around the
corners and I thought we might be in trouble a few times.

Corinne Jolliffe and her family lived in a quaint little
two-story, whitewashed stone house only inches from the one next to it on
Bedford. We knocked on the door and waited as we heard footsteps approaching
the door.

A tall, very cute young lady opened the door. “Drew! You made
it.” She let out what could only be described as a hyper cheerleader’s scream
of excitement, and then gave him a hug, her brown hair bouncing on her
shoulders. She turned her sparkling green eyes to me. “You must be Drew’s
friend, Nolan?”

“Yes, hello. Thanks for inviting us over,” I said as she hugged
me, too.

“Not a problem. Come on in. My parents are waiting in the dining
room.”

The inside of the house felt just as crowded as it did out on
the street. A freestanding coat rack brimming with jackets overflowed into the
path of the doorway. Drew and I brushed through and waited at the base of a
wooden staircase leading up to the second floor.
The
living room was stuffed with furniture, books, and knickknacks.
There was barely room for Corinne to lead us through the long, skinny row
house.

We arrived in a tiny dining room covered in blue floral
wallpaper. Two middle-aged people sat at a clothed round table chatting with
each other. Several light blue teacups and a dark blue pot sat waiting on the
table.

“Hello, gentlemen. Welcome to our home!” Mrs. Jolliffe stood and
held out her hand for us to shake. “Would you like some tea?”

Mr. Jolliffe pointed to the empty chairs at the tables. “Please.
Have a seat. We understand you are seeking some information on the Mayers
family.”

“Yes.” I noticed a collection of old books sitting on the table
near Mr. Jolliffe. “Would you happen to know any information about a Mayers
family that lived here in the late 1800s?” I took a sip from the blue cup in
front of me.

“I do recall reading about a couple, Charlotte and Declan
Mayers, that lived in town until probably 1915 or so.” He took a drink from his
teacup and his wife immediately refilled it.

“That sounds about the right time period,” Drew commented.

“Mr. Mayers was actually the town physician.” Mrs. Jolliffe
poured more tea for Drew.

“Yes, yes. That has to be it,” I said.

“According to the records I found, Declan was a well liked and
respected man in town. He and his wife raised one small boy, Alec. Declan died
young, and I believe—” he paused while he turned the page of the book, “—Mrs.
Mayers moved out of the country at that point.”

“Mr. Jolliffe, have you ever heard the name Ó Meidhir?”

“Actually, that sounds like a rough Gaelic translation of the
name Mayers.”

“Yes, we believe that might be right,” I acknowledged.

Drew stepped in with a great question. “I know this sounds
weird, but through your research, have you ever come across evidence of a
significant meteor shower that may have hit St. Ives early in the century?”

Mr. Jolliffe raised his eyebrows. “Yes, actually. I do believe
there was some type of meteor shower in 1900.” He paged through a different
book he had laying on the table.

“No, honey, wasn’t it 1901?” Mrs. Jolliffe refilled all the
teacups even though Drew gave a hand gesture suggesting he did not want any
more.

“Oh, you’re right dear. It was 1901.” He turned to another book
and found an old newspaper article pasted in. “Ah, here.” He ran his finger
down the page as he skimmed the text. “Oh yes, this storm was a doozy! There
were hundreds of rocks that fell from the sky that night. Many citizens thought
it was the end of the earth; that heaven was crumbling before their very eyes.
Once the panic settled, people took rocks into their homes as souvenirs.”

“That’s right,” I said under my breath.

“Years later, the local doctor, Declan Mayers, began to report strange
symptoms in his patients, and attempted to treat them with local remedies—you
know, berry salves, plant balms, and flower petal cocktails. Nothing he tried
worked, of course, and more modern medicine wouldn’t come around for another
half a century.”

I felt my excitement begin to fade. None of this was any new
information, or even helpful at all. “Is there anything else you can tell us
about this mysterious disease, or how Dr. Mayers treated his patients?”

Mr. Jolliffe took a few seconds before he replied. “No, I don’t
think there was anything else recorded.”

“I hope we were of help to you boys,” Mrs. Jolliffe said as she
refilled our teacups again.

Drew answered since I was too upset to say anything. “Oh yes,
thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Jolliffe. We appreciate your hospitality.” He stood up
from the table and I did the same.

Another dead end. Why did Agent Bowman send us to Cornwall? I
hate wasting time.

Corinne led us back through the cluttered house and to the front
door, where she bid us a friendly farewell and good luck.

We turned around on the stoop to see that the car was not
waiting where we left it. “Didn’t we tell the driver to wait out front?”

“Yes, I thought so.” Drew looked up and down the street. “Maybe
he went for petrol.”

“Petrol, Drew?”

“Gas. It’s what they call gas over here.”

“I know, I just…nevermind. Do you have his cell number, or
should we just wait here on the front steps?”

“I don’t have his number.” We sat down on the curb as two men
wearing all black came walking up the sidewalk to our left. “Why did Bowman
send us here, anyway? Obviously Dr. Mayers didn’t know much about
Caducuspetra
at the turn of the century.”

Drew picked up a pebble from the sidewalk and threw it into the
street. “Sometimes I feel like Bowman sends us on meaningless tasks just to
keep us busy. You know, so we aren’t sticking our noses into other concerns and
being obstruent.”

There might be some truth to that.

The two men stopped right in behind us, and before I could
blink, one of the guys threw a black bag over my head and wrestled my arms
behind my back.

“Hey! What the hell?” I yelled.

“Who are you? What do you want?” Drew was obviously under attack
as well.

“Shut up!” one of the men said forcefully, smacking me on the
side of the head while pulling me to my feet.

I didn’t have my gun with me. Why didn’t I have my gun with me?
I tried to muscle the man’s grip from my arms, but he was incredibly strong. He
held my arms back with one hand and with the other, he dug his fingers into my
jeans pockets until he found my cell phone and pulled it out, throwing it to
the ground.

I heard a car screech to a stop in front of us. The doors flew
open and then I was blindly forced into the backseat of the car. Inside, Drew
breathed quickly next to me. What the hell was happening?

It’s Myers’s men,
my head
explained.

Drew tried again to get some info from our captors. “What do you
want from us?”

“Shut up,” one of the men said snapped.

A cell phone rang. “We’ve got them. ETA five minutes.”

I had no idea if the men were watching me carefully, but I
decided to take a risk. I began carefully working on the rope tied behind my
back and by the time the car stopped it had loosened considerably. I hoped Drew
was smart enough to be working on his ropes as well.

The doors opened and the men dragged us out of the car. We
walked into a building and stumbled down some stairs. The poignant stench of
moldy basement disturbed my nostrils as the vociferous sound of oversized
machines whirred in my ears. We walked a few more steps, and then they forced
us onto chairs back to back. Our captor’s heels walked toward a heavy door and
slammed it. One man dialed a number on his cell. “We’re here…. Yes…”