The Great Deception (19 page)

--

Tel Aviv, Israel

The flying car came to the bottom of the
wave of gravity it rode on, coming to rest on a helipad high up on
top of a modern tower. Azriel was no fool. They hadn't dropped him
off at his apartment.

He squinted. "Where are we going guys?"

Esther reached for his arm, but Azriel
shrugged her off. The young Jewish boy recoiled for once from the
girl who had previously held him captive under her spell. "What's
wrong?" Esther said in a concerned sort of way.

Azriel balked. "Like you don't know?!"

Stacy had already gotten out from the
driver's seat and stealthily moved towards the side hatch closest
to where Azriel sat. Esther had bought her just enough time so she
could be in position to block any way of escape. Not like the boy
had anywhere to go anyways.

She flung the door open expertly. All her
motions were fluid and precise with little energy wasted on
needless movements. Stacy had no intention of knocking Azriel out
cold for the moment. She needed his mind to be the farthest thing
from groggy in order to perform the operation on him that would
change his stars forever.

From her pocket she took out a mysterious
cylindrical object and brandished it. It emitted a pulse invisible
to the human eye. But its effect was certainly visible.

All of Azriel's muscles went into lockdown.
He was as good as a paralytic. Esther moved forward just in time as
the youth collapsed into her outstretched arms.

His skin turned a few shades pinker. The
hair on the back of his neck stood up.

"What'd you do to me!" he cried. "Relax and
don't struggle, you'll only hurt yourself," Stacy informed him.

"But why? What's this all about?"

"You must come with us, Azriel. You'll
see."

Esther smiled sympathetically at the
incapacitated boy she held on to.

The winds gusted at their height, high above
Tel Aviv.

Stacy helped her daughter with the limp body
of Azriel's. They struggled for a little ways until they came to a
shaft on the east side of the building just before the parapet.

Esther raised her palm near the door; it
recognized her immediately. An implant in her arm provided her the
security clearance she needed. The elevator waited to receive
them.

The group of three laboriously entered the
box in due time.

Stacy reached forward and mashed a button to
go down.

A noise of the break disengaging gave the
passengers just enough warning before the little elevator raced for
the floor it was called to. Azriel's eyes rolled to the back of his
skull. It appeared as if he stared at Esther who propped his head
up with her knees. She didn't seem to pay any attention. Right then
Stacy got a tone on her headset buried deep in her ear canal. She
swiped at her smart watch to accept the call.

"Hi hon....I'm with the boy and
Esther....Wait where?....They're not ready yet?"

Esther shot a questioning stare at the last
thing her step-mom had said.

Stacy waited a bit before eventually
saying,

"We're gonna make a beautiful family."

--

Barcelona, Spain

The room began to spin. Wendel reeled from
the many blows. His body had never undergone such a beating before.
He hadn't even gotten in a fight as a lad in his early years let
alone torture.

Sweat dripped off his eyelids and stung his
eyes.

Alfonso had by now turned his chair around
and sat backwards on it. His torso leaned against the chair back,
enough to tip it forward until his forward progress was halted by
the edge of the table.

He leaned in uncomfortably close to the
detainees, his elbows steadying himself on the flat surface. In a
lightning-fast maneuver, his hand clapped down against the tabletop
like a fly swatter.

This startled Amalia more than Wendel.

He decided to throw the trick question out
there: "Who do you work for?" Alfonso looked to the male to say
something this time. "The German government--even you must know
that," Wendel said with disgust. "I don't like your tone," the
interrogator shot back. He then shifted the bullseye back to Wendel
and motioned for his cohort to go through with the retaliatory
strike.

Alfonso's eyes traced the path of the blunt
object that appeared to lift itself off the ground. It traveled in
an elongated arc with the bottom of its trajectory being Wendel's
head.

At the very last possible second Agent
Marcello held out a hand to stay the impending blow that would've
knocked the German into the following week. The weapon that would
have connected with Wendel's head clanked to the floor right next
to where he sat.

Alfonso watched the German jerk his head at
the sound of the noise. "That could have gone a lot worse for you."
He rested both forearms on the table and cupped his hands. "Now I'm
gonna ask you again,
who
do you work for?"

Amalia grew extremely flustered and threw
her hands up. "We've already told you," she whined.

"Pity."

"No! Wait!" she appeared to have turned a
corner.

Alfonso's bushy eyebrows were hiked with
anticipation. Would the woman make his job a little easier right
here, right now?

To his disappointment what he saw was a
woman harden once again with increased impudence than before.
Amalia bore the distinct resemblance of Pharaoh saying no to
Moses.

She then lowered her head and narrowed her
eyes. "Go to hell," she uttered. Alfonso could feel the heat in his
bones from the hatred in her speech.

"Well," he began, "I was hoping you'd spare
me the pain from going forward. But all this unnecessary pretext
must be punished until I hear what you won't tell me." When neither
one of them braved an answer, Alfonso sighed. "As you wish."

--

The Ozarks

Damion's eyelids were heavy with sleep. It
had been forty-eight hours since he last resigned himself to a bed.
Why? There were simply just too many things that troubled his
mind.

Many projects at Westover Ventures got
Damion's signature from a notorist, but not his due-diligence
review. One such project as a matter of fact happened to escape the
company think tank and be free
—
ultimately
getting a new lease on life in the mission bays of
Scorpion
’
s shuttles of great deception
which lurked around in low-earth orbit.

Call it a premonition or a pure gut
feel
…
.Damion began to ponder Project
Canvas. He didn
’
t possess intimate
knowledge of the program
’
s innerworkings,
but he knew what mattered. If used by the wrong people, on a large
scale? Psychological warfare of the holographic nature which could
lead to a great deception never before seen since the days of Adam
and Eve back in the garden.

“I
’
ve gotta get
outta here and warn them,
”
he blurted
while suddenly feeling out of breath by the startling new reality.
Christophe shifted on his cot to better position himself for
conversation.

“Say what?
”

“They took you and me because
we
’
re the only ones dangerous enough to
wreck their plans.
”

“Which are?
”
Christophe struggled to follow.

“Isn
’
t it always an
issue of world domination with people like whom were dealing
with?
”
“
Well
no,
”
Christophe begged to differ.
“
It
’
s more
spiritual than that, really.
”
Damion
looked panicked.
“
Don
’
t go there with me again. We won
’
t revisit that topic.
”
“
Why is it you
’
d
rather not talk about anything in the spiritual realm, yet
you
’
re more than comfortable slipping into
bed with a woman you don
’
t even know the
name of?
”
Damion
’
s face contorted.
“
I fail to
see the correlation.
”

“Right, because you only see what you want
to see. You don
’
t need to tell me
that.
”
“
Can we
get serious here?
”
Damion glared at
Gerard.
“
Scorpion plans to use the
military grade holo-emitters and retrofit them to work with a
littleknown spacecraft.
”

“How in God
’
s name
would you know that?
”
the scientist
gasped. He wondered if the sleeplessness hadn
’
t finally worked a number on his business partner.
How else could he have yielded such a fantastical revelation?

“Remember that break-in at my
house?
”
Christophe searched his memory and
said,
“
I vaguely remember.
”
His brain continued to sift through layers of
dormant files.
“
Oh!

Right.
”

“It
’
s coming
back?
”

“Iris the virtual thief. She started you on
your journey for answers.
”

Damion swung his legs over the side of his
bed now. It excited him that they were both on the same page
now.

“That day I called you with the news and
told you to come over?
”

“Yeah?
”

“What I didn
’
t
tell you was the directory for Project Canvas also had been
accessed
…
in addition to my Mark I test
vehicle.
”
Damion looked at Christophe to
see if the old man would fill in the blanks on his logic. And he
did.

“So they were really after your hologram
technology
…
delving into your little pet
project was by way more of a distraction than anything
else.
”

Damion gave a single clap and pointed at
Christophe,
“
Sharp as a tack! I am never
disappointed by you my friend. What else do you think you can tell
me on Scorpion
’
s end game
plans?
”

“Why ask me when you already
know?
”
“
Do
I?
”
he facetiously put in.

“Do you?
”
Christophe fired back.

Damion rolled his eyes.
“
Did I complement you too soon, Gerard? You really
can
’
t finish this or you need me
to
…
.”

“There
’
s a Jeddah
connection,
”
the scientist began to say,
causing his friend to start.
“
Wait your
turn monsieur, I have more to say,
”
he
flagged Damion down. The billionaire merely folded his arms across
his chest and patiently listened.
“
They
haven
’
t integrated your invention to their
armada of spaceships quit yet because they have to use
Jeddah
’
s spaceport.
”

“Because FRN would otherwise be alerted to a
launch from the War Room
’
s space pad off
the coast of S6.
”

Now it was Christophe
’
s turn to lavish praise for Damion
’
s strategic mind.
“
Yes, that
is precisely the reason. And what
’
s more,
Howard has all but made the world his footstool with the world
rulers bowing down to him. King Kahlil of the UIC has fallen in
line with the Great Deception without a doubt
…
one of the last dominoes to tumble before we see the
long awaited New World Order brought to bear.
”

One could hear a pin drop in the room after
Christophe said his piece.
“
Is this thing
too far along from being stopped do you think?
”
Damion asked. Christophe nodded his head.
“
From one professional to another, I think
we
’
re out of time.
”

Damion was a little surprised by his friend
so quickly dismissing any possibility of flipping the situation
around.

“You never used to give up so
easily.
”
He hung his head and contemplated
the floor while he said it.

Christophe made a face.
“
I haven
’
t rolled over and
played dead yet. I just stated my opinion on how good our chances
are.
”
Before Damion could open up his
mouth to speak, Christophe further added,
“
You
’
d better hope those
Viper agents just got lost.
”
Damion waved
him off,
“
Nah, they ain
’
t comin
’
. There
is
an
outside chance though that Israel
’
s
intelligence might piece the puzzle together quick
enough
…
and maybe attempt a
rescue,
”
he twirled his wrist,
“…
you

get the picture.
”

“What do we do in the meantime?
”
Christophe wondered.

“Be proactive. Talk with Heather. Tell her
all we know. Maybe she knows something we

don
’
t that can be
helpful to us.
”
“
I like your thinking.
”

“I
’
m sure you would
do the same,
”
Damion complimented the
French man. Christophe only smiled. In an anticlimactic way, he
gave the suggestion they both find a little sleep. To his surprise,
Damion actually agreed to it.