The Red Phoenix 12: Strength Comes in Numbers (58 page)

“I have your memories, Mr. President,” Twelve replied. “Thanks to your DNA, the things you’ve done in your life have stacked nicely in my memory storage. I know all the details on the Amsterdam incident, your affairs in Hong Kong and the illegal funds that were banked in Dubai when the arms deal fell through with the Russians. Now these funds are in Caicos and Turks and I even know the account numbers where you have these funds accruing interest,” Twelve replied. “And that’s just the beginning.”

“They call me the leader of the free world and the most powerful man on earth for a reason,” Greenfield stated, sitting back, adjusting his tie. “
Mr. Twelve
.”

“I know and you’re going to use that to our advantage. To Chris Michaels’ advantage,” Twelve stated.

“Why in the hell would I do that?” asked Greenfield.

“To protect us. Because I don’t think you can afford the bad press or to come up against me in a war,” Twelve replied.

Greenfield sat glaring at him, knowing Twelve had him against a wall.

“So, I’m just supposed to sit back while this source of power of unknown quantity is out in the world somewhere, while dangerous felons are roaming free, facing no justice?” he asked, raising his voice.

“You have my word that this power will not be abused in any way, nor will the others in my family cause any further problems,” Twelve answered.

Greenfield stared at him, glancing at the dinner guests floating over the table. He watched the spoons and forks deflect off the chandeliers and floating people with a soft bounce.

“I have your word that we’ll never hear from you or the others again?” asked Greenfield.

“That’s the absolute truth,” Twelve replied, raising a hand, causing a thin purple and pink electrical current to retrieve two glasses of wine that drifted over the table, placing one in front of Greenfield, the other in front of himself.

“What’s this?” asked Greenfield.

“A toast to the new treaty,” Twelve said, raising his glass.

Greenfield paused.

“Would you like more beverage in your glass, Mr. President?” asked Twelve.

“No,” Green answered.

“Then let us toast to a new beginning,” Twelve stated, raising his glass.

“And what do you suggest we call this
treaty
?” asked Greenfield in a bitter voice.

“
The Red Phoenix Twelve
,” Twelve answered, sipping his champagne. “My attorney will be sending you a draft for you to look over and sign.”

“I assume that’s personalized for you?” Greenfield asked.

“It’s for the twelve artificial intelligences that were made and had to band together and fight a war they didn’t ask for,” Twelve replied.

Greenfield sipped his wine then set his glass on the table.

“Well, as much fun as this has been, it’s time for me to go, Mr. President,” said Twelve, standing, buttoning his double-breasted jacket.

Greenfield stood, watching him leave.

“Have a good night, sir,” Twelve stated in a loud voice, reaching for the handle on the French doors to exit.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” asked Greenfield.

“And what’s that?” asked Twelve.

Greenfield gestured with his hand, indicating the floating people and things drifting overhead.

“Of course,” Twelve responded, snapping his fingers with a wink, making a bright flash of light race through the room in a second.

Twelve walked out at a casual speed, leaving the room.

All of the people, plates and silverware lowered to the floor at a slow speed. Just as they reached two feet above the carpet, everything dropped, collapsing to the floor. The guests landed on their rears, sides, and backs. Those who landed on their feet tripped and fell over. The plates and wine glasses shattered on the tables and on the floor. The silverware hit the floor, making a high-pitched tinkling sound as it slid across the tiles.

Greenfield stared at the double doors Twelve exited through as the guests began to pick themselves up.

***

SIX MONTHS LATER

Chris and Kerry stood in a steamy shower, kissing. She put her arms around his neck, hanging her head back as he kissed her chin and neck then ran his hands down her chest, caressing her bosoms then placed them around her waist as their lips touched again. Kerry lifted her left leg against his side as he ran his hand down her naked, toned hip, massaging her upper thigh.

“I love you,” said Kerry in his ear in a soft voice.

Chris kissed her again.

“Thank you for saving my life—twice,” Chris replied, gazing into her eyes.

“Everything we’ve been through, I’d go through it again just to be with you,” she said.

“I feel the same,” Chris responded.

“It’s time for the bedroom,” she said, smiling, rubbing her hands up his chest.

“I agree,” he replied, kissing her again.

***

It was a sunny day on the north beaches of Jakarta, Indonesia. Kirk was trying out his new surf board, riding a beautiful twelve-foot wave, getting tubed, heading back into shore. Another wave came in, knocking him into the water.

He stood, wiping the water off his face and running his fingers through his beach-bum hair that came down to his shoulders. He tugged at his snug-fitted Neoprene body suit, pulling his surf board from the water then jogged back to the white, sandy shore.

“Hey, nice surfing,” said a pretty girl, grinning, wearing a bikini as she lay on her beach towel.

“Thank you,” Kirk replied, smiling, making his way back to his stuff.

“Yeah, that was great surfing,” said a voice in the background.

Kirk turned.

Twelve stood in the sand a short distance from him, wearing a suit.

“Twelve!” said Kirk, pleased to see him, running to him, giving him a hug. “When did you get here?”

“Just arrived,” Twelve replied. “Look at you—long, sandy blond hair, surfboard. You look like you’re from California.”

“Like I’ll ever live there, huh?” said Kirk, putting a shirt on.

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you guys about,” said Twelve. “Your guys’ place far from here?”

“Just a few miles,” Kirk answered.

“My car is right over there,” Twelve stated.

“C’mon, I’ll show you the way,” said Kirk.

***

Chris and Kerry sat on the sofa in bath robes, sipping coffee. Kirk and Twelve came in the front door.

“How was surfing?” Kerry asked.

“Look who I found at the beach,” Kirk said, happy.

“Twelve!” said Chris, excitable, standing.

“It’s great to see you!” said Kerry, rushing over, hugging him.

“We’ve been so worried,” said Chris. “I was told you were going to face President Greenfield.”

“We didn’t think we’d ever see you again,” Kirk added.

“Well, I’m actually here with good news,” said Twelve.

“Please, come in and sit down,” said Chris.

They sat at the dining table.

“I made a treaty with the president,” said Twelve.

“A treaty? No kidding,” said Chris.

“It’s called
The Red Phoenix Twelve Treaty
,” Twelve replied, taking out a copy of the papers, handing it to Kerry.

“What is it about?” she asked.

“It states that none of us will be hunted down and killed by federal agents, providing that we promise never to show our faces again on US soil,” Twelve answered.

“Are you okay with that, Chris?” Kerry asked.

“Never?” Chris asked, troubled.

“Never,” Twelve answered. “It was all I could do to keep the president at bay with my idle threats as I showed him the phantasma.”

“Where is the apparition now?” asked Kirk.

“I’m keeping it in a safe place where no human will ever find it again,” Twelve responded.

“Well done,” said Chris.

“So, as long as the three of you are clear about where everything stands, that’s all I had,” Twelve stated.

“Chris, you’re being quiet about all this, what do you think?” asked Kerry.

“Are you okay about never going back, Dad?” asked Kirk.

“So, Twelve, you want bananas and strawberries in your pancakes?” asked Chris.

Twelve grinned.

THE END